Anyway, it didn’t matter. Those people had given him up. The Order was the only home he had ever had.
Not the Order, his inner voice corrected him snidely. Your Master.
Pushing the uncomfortable thought out of his mind, Eridan looked around the living room. He hadn’t been here in over a month. Castien lately insisted that when he was away, Eridan should stay in the house Castien had bought for him in the Apprentices’ district, but Eridan still couldn’t think of that house as home. Granted, it probably didn’t help that he barely spent any time there, preferring his Master’s mansion. To his surprise, Castien didn’t seem to object to his presence, only ordering Eridan to go to his own house in his absence.
Eridan wandered out onto the terrace. He tried not to look down. He wasn’t very good with heights, and the cliff the house was imbedded in was almost a straight-up, rock wall tarsecs high. The view was awe-inspiring, the setting sun coloring the clouds and the sea golden and pink. Eridan knew it was the best view in Hronthar, his Master’s house the only one besides the castle that offered such a view. He suddenly wondered how much this mansion had cost Castien. That said, Eridan doubted the beautiful view was the reason his Master had acquired it: owning the best house in District Four was likely a power play of some sort.
Eridan smiled softly, thinking about how the rest of the world viewed mind adepts of the Order. Everyone thought the “monks” lived in austere conditions and didn’t care for material things or power. Granted, it was the way of thinking that was carefully cultivated by the Order, but it was still amusing how clueless the rest of the planet was. Castien alone owned numerous estates and companies on and off Calluvia, and he knew other Masters did, too.
“Tell me why you lost control of yourself,” Castien said, coming to stand next to him. He looked not at the sun disappearing into the horizon, but at the water far below them. His Master wasn’t afraid of heights—he wasn’t afraid of anything, as far as Eridan was aware. He was so damn perfect. Perfectly in control. Sometimes it made Eridan want to scream and do something ridiculous, just to see that icy composure shatter.
Eridan pursed his lips, hating that Castien still wouldn’t look at him. They had been apart for more than a month. Surely he deserved one look.
“There’s nothing to explain,” he said sullenly. “Salah was a dick.”
“Language.”
Rolling his eyes, Eridan stepped closer to his Master. “I don’t want to talk about Salah when I just got you back.” He leaned his shoulder against his Master’s, enjoying how solid it felt and breathing in his familiar scent. I missed you. He didn’t dare say it aloud again.
Eridan glared at the sky, suddenly feeling a little bit pathetic. What if Salah was right and he really was delusional? What if his Master didn’t care about him at all?
He pulled away and leaned against the railing, looking into the horizon. “Grandmaster said he might reassign me to another Master.”
He felt Castien stiffen. “What?” he said sharply.
Eridan studied him, a little surprised by such a visible reaction. Normally, his Master was very difficult to read, even for him—and they had shared a telepathic bond for years.
Eridan shrugged, watching Castien’s profile carefully, hope stirring in his heart. Did his Master care after all?
“He said he might take me on as his apprentice himself.”
Castien’s face was like stone as he ground out, “I didn’t waste years on teaching you to give you to someone else.”
Oh.
Eridan deflated. He looked away, fighting the sudden tightness in his throat. He didn’t know why he felt like this. Castien had never lied to him about this. He had never pretended to care for him. He had always been clear that he was incapable of deep emotions.
“I was away for less than two months, but of course you managed to get in trouble,” Castien said, a touch of irritation lacing his words. “Have I not told you to stay away from Tethru?”
“But I’m twenty,” Eridan said. “Surely too old.”
“You will be too old for him when you start looking old enough. Tethru does not care for your biological age.” Castien sighed. “I have been keeping you away from him for a reason, Eridan. Once he sets his sights on someone, he fixates. He obsesses. The fact that you are mine—my apprentice—will only make you more desirable for him. You would be a prized trophy for him.”
“But what can he do?” Eridan said, frowning. “Can he actually take me from you?”
Castien was quiet.
His gaze on the water below, he said, “I do not know.”
Eridan stared. He had never heard his Master admitting that he didn’t know something. Never.
“There are provisions for reassigning apprentices that he can use. It happens very rarely, but there are precedents.”