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The day is sunny but here by the water the wind never ceases and so clouds keep pushing in front of Dominicus in the sky and paint the sand a patchwork of light and dark.
Colum watches Silas, one eye on their surroundings, always. They're the only people for miles and miles out here, even the small village is a short shuttle ride away.
The waves crash against the shore and occasionally he can feel the drops of seawater carried by the breeze.
"Comm!" The Master Templar says and Colum crouches down to look at what Silas has found. "Ho'd dis, peash?"
Small hands put a pretty shell into his palm and then Silas also crouches down and looks into a small puddle the tide left behind. "Look!" He says.
Colum looks.
There is a closed shell in it, that of a cockle.
Silas stares at it for a moment. Then the thing opens a bit and a bubble of air escapes.
He looks at Colum with all the excitement a toddler of his age has. "Bup!" He says and Colum smiles.
"Yes, it went 'blup'. It's still alive! You should be able to feel its energy."
"Yea," Silas agrees very seriously. "Alive."
"Wanna put it back in the ocean?"
"Oshun?"
"Ocean. The big water. That's where it came from when the tide carried it here last night."
Silas points at the waves, a questioning look on his little face. Colum nods.
"Ok!" Silas says.
"Here, I'll show you. You take your hands - both hands, see, like this - and you make a little bowl, like this." When his Master Templar does, Colum carefully picks up the cockle and puts it in his hands. "Just keep your hands like this, okay? It won't hurt you."
"Ok." Silas agrees and looks down on it. The edge opens a little and a bubble of water gets pushed out. "Alive." He says and looks up at Colum. Colum nods.
"Let's get it back to the big water, yeah? That's where its home is."
"Home." Silas agrees and then scrambles towards the edge of the beach.
It doesn't take him long even with how short his legs are and to Colum's surprise he manages the distance without dropping either the shell or himself. When the water licks at his tiny feet, though, he stops.
"Here?" He asks. His eyes are big and turned to him. Colum shakes his head.
"A little further in. C'mon, I'll get us there." He bends down and picks Silas up, and together they wade out until the water brushes the rolled up shorts Colum is wearing. "Here." He says then. Silas drops the cockle and it makes a little 'plonk' sound as it hits the water.
"Bye-bye!" Silas says quietly, and waves at it.
"Good job. I bet that shell is really happy to be back in the big water. You did great!" He kisses Silas' forehead.
Silas smiles and claps his hands together. When the water is shallow enough again Colum lets him back down. Their cottage is still within easy sight, just past the dunes. He takes a breath.
"My shell?" Silas asks and looks a little bit lost.
"Oh! Here. Got it." He reaches into the white-and-grey windbreaker and picks it out again, handing it to Silas.
"Thank you!" The smile is back on the little face and he happily scampers on.
It's peaceful out here. Their days stretch long and it is nice to teach Silas. There's plenty of fruit he gets to cut for them both and Silas falls asleep easier in the evenings, exhausted from the different air and the day's activities. His cough is almost gone again as well. He can't mourn that; his necromancer's health comes first above all else, but he will miss this place once they'll be forced to return to the city and resume the life meant for them.
It feels like a pocket of time almost, to be here, with Silas, now. Borrowed time. A held breath between the rushing of the universe.
Silas bends down to pick something up from the ground and in that moment a wave rolls in, and Colum bites his lip when he sees the water splashing up into the little face.
He runs the few steps to catch up.
"Hey! Hey, you alright?"
"Comm," Silas blubbers, his eyes shut tightly and little hands waving aimlessly. "Help-"
There's no tissue in his pockets and so Colum tugs the sleeve of his shirt down and wipes his necromancer's face with it. He makes sure to use his other sleeve to dab around the eyes to dry them off, too, and to not get more salt or sand in them. Silas sputters again and Colum barely manages to stop him from smearing more water across his cheeks with his hands. He wipes his mouth and nose again. To Silas' credit, he doesn't cry.
Silas peers up at him out of slits when Colum stops wiping. The Master Templar frowns.
"Sa'ty..." He grouses.
Colum smiles. "The water?"
Silas nods, still frowning. He glares at the ocean. "Don' like."
"That's okay. It's not for drinking."
"My shell!" Silas yells suddenly, and sprints towards where the water is receding and pulling the shell he was holding on to away. He grabs it, and then nearly crashes into Colum's shins on his hurried retreat as the water pushes back in.
"Sa'ty..." He complains and pats his free hand against Colum's knee. He lets himself be shephered away from where the waves roll on the beach.
"Do you want a mint?" Colum has some in the inner pocket of this jacket. Silas nods and Colum holds one out to him. Small fingers pluck it from his palm and then the pure white pill vanishes behind pouting lips. They stand there for a moment, recovering from the small shock that was. Eventually Silas looks up at him.
"Broda Ash, up peash?" He asks and his eyes are big and pleading.
"Of course, Master Octakiseron."
"Who?" Silas asks, as Colum settles him on his shoulders.
"Hold on to my head?" He asks and Silas hands him the shell before his little hands settle on Colum's forehead.
"You're Master Octakiseron." Colum says then. The shell he puts in his pocket. One hand carries their shoes, the other he touches to the skinny leg of his child necromancer to secure him. The little soles brush sand against his jacket.
"Ma..ter... Oka... sion." Silas tries to say.
"Mas-ter Oc-ta-ki-se-ron." Colum spells for him. They continue down the smooth sand, where the water isn't actively rolling over but where it's still easy to walk.
"Say it with me?" Colum asks after Silas butchers another attempt of his own name.
"No." Silas says and Colum laughs. He brushes his thumb over the tiny knee.
"That's okay. You'll learn one day."
For a while he's quiet. But when the wind picks up again Colum can feel Silas squirming and pauses, turning his head a little even though that won't do much.
"You okay?"
"Don' wan' mint."
"Put it in my palm." He can feel Silas lean forward when Colum holds his hand up, and then the rest of the mint and a lot of spit hit his palm. He brushes most of that off on his jacket before putting the mint in his mouth and chewing it up.
"No!" Silas complains and kicks his heels a little.
"Hey, no kicking, remember?" Colum catches one small foot in his hand.
"But! No!" Silas sounds closer to tears now than he was back when the wave hit him.
"Hm?" Colum asks, and bites another small portion of the mint apart.
"Tha!" Silas sniffles. "No!"
"Okay, I won't chew my mint."
"No chewing!" Silas agrees and wiggles again.
"I don't chew and you don't wiggle, okay?"
"'m cold..." Silas admits.
"We can't have that. Hold on." The windbreaker unzips at the top. The wind blows a gust of air under the protective layer and Colum shivers, half in sympathy for the tiny human he cares for so and half because it really is quite fresh. He lifts Silas from his shoulders and tucks him into the jacket, uncaring of how he'll have to brush the sand out of the shirt underneath later. Silas nestles against him, fitting into the space on Colum's hip like he was always meant to be there. Colum fusses over adjusting the jacket around him a moment longer. Silas yawns.
He can see faint freckles starting to show on the bridge of the soft nose in his necromancer's face. He'll have to make sure to put more lotion on before they next leave the house. It wouldn't do if they cured his coughing here but he returned with a sunburn...
"Home peash?" Silas asks and Colum wraps an arm around him protectively.
"You wanna go back? Enough beach?"
"'nuff." Silas agrees.
"Alright. Back we go. Say bye to the big water?"
"Bye!" Silas waves the hand that is still free at the waves before Colum turns around and starts on the way back.
Silas makes a soft sound. His body is so small against Colum's own. It shouldn't be a surprise anymore, and yet Colum realizes it time and time again. He squeezes softly.
"Okay?" Colum asks quietly. Silas hums.
"Wam." He says. Colum presses a kiss to the top of his head. The thin blond hair he braided this morning has a lot of fly-aways by now.
"Good. Warm and safe."
"Uh-huh." Silas agrees.