Alistair was sitting on the wooden step outside the base, watching the grey of the sky thin into evening.

Silas walked past him without saying anything, nodding once.

Following that, Silas headed for the territory’s edge, where Elara had been sitting for almost an hour without moving.

He didn’t sit beside her. He sat near her, not in her space, far enough that her Favor had room to rest, and close enough that she’d know he was there.

Alistair had begun to notice this distance over the past weeks. It was a nearness Silas used only with Elara.

’He’s careful with her,’ Alistair thought. ’More than I’d noticed at first.’

The sun was low. The settlements out across the Oasis of Grain were beginning to show the pattern of cookfires Alistair had been training himself to read.

Seeing her quiet, Silas didn’t speak for a while.

Eventually, he said, "Elara."

"Yes."

"What do you want?"

Alistair raised a brow, listening from the step. That wasn’t a question Silas usually asked.

Elara turned her head slightly. "From what?"

"From anything," replied Silas. "Not from Sun Harvest. Not from the Oasis of Grain. Not from the faction, or the inquiry, or your father. Just, when you stop moving long enough to ask, what do you want?"

Elara was quiet.

Alistair could see the side of her face from where he sat. She was thinking, not stalling, and he’d learned to tell the difference over the months.

’She’s been asked this before,’ Alistair thought. ’Just not like this.’

She finally spoke, her voice slow and careful. "I want a conversation about something small, that stays on the something small, because the other person is genuinely interested in the something small."

Silas waited, listening.

"I had one today, in Stenfell. A woman called Maren argued with me about water routing for twenty minutes, and the argument was only the argument. It didn’t mean anything about who I was, or who my father was, or what faction I belong to. It was just a disagreement, about water." Elara paused, exhaling. "I’d never had one of those. I’m thirty-one, and I’d never had an argument that was only the argument. Until today."

Silas was quiet.

"That’s what I want," she said. "A lot more of that. For the rest of my life."

Alistair was reluctantly moved.

He didn’t get up from the step, however, because it wasn’t a moment a man walked into.

Silas nodded slowly. "Good. That’s something you can build toward."

"You’re not going to tell me if it’s possible."

"I don’t know if it is. Neither do you," replied Silas, looking out at the settlements. "Regardless, that’s the point of building toward something. If you knew, you’d be walking, not building. And, walking is just motion. Building is what happens when you don’t know what’s at the other end, and you go anyway."

Elara was quiet for a long moment.

Then, eventually, she asked, "When did you get wise?"

"I had a lot of time to think."

There was a sadness in the way he said it.

Alistair, watching from the step, recognized the shape of it. It was the sadness of a man who’d been alone in the dark long enough to get very good at thinking, and who knew exactly what that kind of skill had cost.

Silas didn’t perform the sadness. He let it sit inside the sentence.

At the edges of it, however, there was a warmth that hadn’t been there three months ago.

Elara asked the next question quietly. "Are you still lonely?"

Silas took his time before answering. "Less."

"Less how?"

He looked back at the base. The candles in the windows were lit. Due was inside. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"It’s different when the choice is available, and you choose not to be," said Silas. "For a long time, the loneliness was the only option. Now, it’s one option among a few, and I don’t choose it very often, and when I do, I choose it for a reason." He paused. "The loneliness was the part that was wrong. The quiet, I still like. I still like the quiet."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"From the first week. You like quiet the way I like arguments that stay arguments. It’s the same shape. You and I want the same thing, from different directions."

Silas looked at her for a long moment.

Something warmed at the corners of his eyes. He rarely let it reach that far.

"Yes," he said quietly. "That’s accurate."

Alistair exhaled slowly. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

The sun finished going down. The settlements lit one by one across the Oasis, and the wind comes thin and cold from the west.

After a few moments, Elara said, "The thing you and Alistair built, during the search. Due said he doesn’t have a word for it yet."

Silas nodded. "I have a word now. I told him yesterday." He paused. "Trust. However, not the way most people use the word. Trust in the moment of the asking, not in the belief about the future."

"That’s not a short word."

"No," replied Silas. "It’s the right one."

Elara fell silent. Then, after a while, she said, "Silas."

Silas looked at her, without saying anything.

"I’m going to use it too."

"For what?"

"For what’s happening between the four of us."

Silas went very quiet.

"Yes," he said eventually. "I think... that’s the right use."

Alistair clicked his tongue softly, looking down at his hands. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to interrupt.

Behind him, in the base, Due lit the second candle in the east-facing window, and the warmer light reached the porch.

Hearing the light shift, Elara stood up. "Are you coming in?"

"In a few minutes."

She walked back toward the base. Passing Alistair on the step, she paused, and her eyes met his. She didn’t look surprised to find him there.

"You heard," she said.

"I heard."

"Good," replied Elara, and went inside.

Alistair stayed on the step a little longer, watching Silas at the edge.

Silas didn’t turn around. He looked at the dark the way he had in the weeks before they’d found him, yet not the same way at all, because the dark was the same, and he wasn’t the same man inside it.

Eventually, Silas stood up and walked back.

Passing Alistair, he nodded once.

"You should sleep," said Silas.

"In a few minutes."

"You sound like Elara."

Alistair’s lips twitched, but he kept his face still. Something in the way Silas said it made him think Silas had wanted the reaction.

"I’ll come in soon," replied Alistair.

The door closed behind Silas.

Alistair stayed where he was, thinking about the word Silas had picked, and the way Elara had taken it for the four of them without asking permission, and the way Silas had let her.

’That’s the right use,’ he thought.

He stood up after a while and went inside.

The second candle was still burning when he reached the door.

And, the next morning, before the sun was fully up, the fourth bird of the week arrived at the window.

It carried a dispatch from the Sovereign Record, and on the very last line of the continental section, was the phrase Alistair had been expecting to read for eleven weeks, and had not expected to read this soon.