Chapter Text
The summer before starting your freshman year at an arcane magic academy should’ve been fun.
Like, seriously.
Okay, Cater wasn’t sure how it was supposed to be uniquely fun, compared to other summers, or anything, but he was one-hundred-percent sure it wasn’t supposed to be boring with a capital “B.”
Whiiiiiiiich it was.
Two weeks into his “birthday present”—a two-month family vacation during summer break to the beach—and he was already itching to call it quits. This was mainly ‘cause, back in February, during his birthday, he had done exactly one thing: NOT ASKED FOR A FAMILY VACATION DURING SUMMER BREAK TO THE BEACH!
What he had asked for, instead, had been something super small and much simpler: the keys to his own car.
‘Kay, fine, yeah, even then, he had known that later in the year he would be heading off to Sage’s Island, and he guessed most mages used blastcycles and brooms to get around. And, admittedly, he didn’t have a driver’s license yet (his dad had been supposed to help him get one that summer).
But still! Wouldn’t it have been, like, way cool if he could actually go wherever he wanted with his own car? (Yes, yes it would’ve.)
Sighsighsigh. Too bad a vacay with the fam had been the only things in the cards for him.
He’d been kinda-sorta-almost okay with it, at first, ‘cause, well, his parents and sisters had been hyped for two months in the sun. Not wanting to be the one to dull the Diamond family sparkle, he’d managed to get on board-ish.
Plus, the beach was fine, right? Snorkeling, scuba-diving, playing volleyball, getting tan, wakeboarding, beachcombing, swimming, building sandcastles, chillaxing, exploring the boardwalk, some magic-y stuff, maybe, and blah, blah, blah, the works? The vlogging and posting opportunities were not just endless but fun!
… yeah, except all of that had gotten old p’ fast. In fourteen days, actually. And he still had forty-two more of them to suffer through.
Having tanned enough that any more time in the sun would render him an unpleasant shade of BURNT, Cater sighed as he sunk deeper into the porch swing on his family’s villa. The villa that they had rented wasn’t right on the beach—like the fancier vacation homes were—but it was still situated high atop a wide cliff only yards away from it. The walking distance to the golden and tourist-speckled sands ahead was minimal.
Staring mindlessly at the beach down below, he strummed a slightly-forlorn-sounding chord on his guitar and desperately sent another wish into the stars for some company.
His parents were off doing a random beach-related activity, and his older sisters had monopolized the friendship of all the local and vacationing kids older than him. There didn’t seem to be any other people his age, either. This forced him—if he didn’t wanna kick it solo, at least—to hang out with snot-nosed middle-school-and-below-aged beachgoers, which he was so not gonna do, ‘cause hellooooo? He was sixteen? That was practically an adult, FFS. No freaking way was he gonna play babysitter.
So, since he’d tired of most modes of coastal recreation, and since he couldn’t stare at his phone all the time, Cater had been, for the past couple of days, relegated to sitting alone on his porch swing (like an ELDERLY PERSON, OMG) and peoplewatching the tourists at the beach from above.
All while teaching himself how to properly play a barred C chord on his guitar—and totes not failing at it, bee-tee-dubs.
Perched on the clifftop, he had an unobstructed view of an endless swath of sand that stretched out for miles. Below him, the beach teemed with visitors enjoying the seaside attractions: pinpricks of activity, from his high vantage point, all going about their vacations with gusto.
And, somehow, not a single one of them ever did anything even remotely interesting.
A lot of the time, in fact, he found himself not drawn to frolicking tourists, but to a certain property right along the beach. There were several of these huge, impossibly fancy homes, but the one he kept coming back to was literally on another level—emphasis on “literally.”
This particular beachfront house was twice the size of the others, and much of the external structure seemed to be a portico composed of fluted, weathered stone columns. A triangular roof with a golden-lightning-bolt-engraved pediment sat on top, while a grand staircase led up to a set of double doors. Along the building’s foundation were large sculptures carved to look like clouds—or maybe they actually were clouds, Cater now realized; after all, the entire property was floating seven inches off the ground with what he thought had been a levitation spell.
He had initially assumed the inhabitants of such an ostentatious vacation home would be super-bougie people who flaunted their money like it was new. However, according to his observations, that didn’t really seem to be the case.
Three people, at most, had ever strode out of the double doors at a time: a young, humanoid robot with a shock of flamelike hair, and a pair of accompanying figures dressed in drab, leaden-colored robes. One of the figures wore a pink helmet, the other, blue.
He had talked to the robot boy once or twice—his name had been Ortho, IHRC. He’d been alright, as far as fourteen-year-olds went. Desperate for company as he was, Cater would’ve hung out with him, but ughhhh, was it really so much to ask for someone his own age?
Anyways, not like a creep—more like a lifeguard or, or, or … a guardian angel!—Cater, from his porch swing, kept an eye on Ortho out of sheer boredom. The kid was highkey fascinating and seemed to really enjoy scanning the surrounding beach for shells, photographing the wildlife, wandering down the nearby boardwalk, and occasionally pranking beachgoers by shooting them with his water nozzle attachment (LMAO, he was kinda a menace, if Cater was being honest).
Over the two weeks Cater had been at the beach, Ortho had emerged exactly five times; the helmeted duo had done so, uh … wow, probably only twice? Jeez, antisocial, much?
Today, no one had left the columned confines of this palatial home at all.
Or.
Well.
Maybe they had, and Cater had simply missed them. He’d spent most of the morning scrolling through Magicam in his room and had just rolled out of bed to come onto the porch with his guitar a minute ago.
As he idly strummed a chord that was definitely not barred C, the doors to the lightning-bolt-adorned beach house slowly creaked open. Out trudged a young man—no, a teenager—that wasn’t Ortho or the other pair.
Under the scorching sun, the lanky teenager stood out amidst the beachgoers. His bright yellow irises contrasted sharply with his fiery azure ponytail, which Cater noted bore an extremely striking resemblance to Ortho’s artificial hair. The teenager was dressed impractically for the hot weather, in loose, dark layers that appeared to have been slept in. Nervously fidgeting, he stared staunchly at some kind of tablet.
He was handsome enough to draw the eye of anyone, and Cater was super not immune AT ALL AT ALL. What piqued his interest the most was not just the fact that this teenager’s lips were such an aesthetic shade of blue, but ‘cause said lips were curved into the cutest little scowl of all time.
Like, normally, scowling people were a no-go with him (for the most part, he had the social savvy not to bother those who looked like they didn’t wanna be bothered), but, sevens, this guy managed to look so … he didn’t know … botherable … and attractive.
Or he did until he, his eyes fixed on his tablet, fell face-first into the sand when he descended the stairs and tried to step onto the beach. Cater cringed. RIP. He must’ve not remembered that his house was legit floating off the ground.
From where he sat, Cater couldn’t hear what the teenager was muttering as he lifted his head and spat out a mouthful of sand, but he swore his lips were moving in a way that made it look as if he were saying, “Could’ve been at home watching Howl’s Moving Castle, but, noooo, ixnay on anything practical, IG. Instead, I get to waste the summer at a wannabe Howl’s Floating Mojo Dojo Casa House, Age of the Gods edition. Thanks a ton, Uncle.”
Cater laughed at that and put down his guitar. He continued to watch the teenager, as he dusted himself off and meandered down the beach, still staring at his tablet. Although Cater had read his lips to reveal pure snark, and though he refused to drop his adorable scowl, there was something about the teenager’s movements that divulged nervousness and unease.
His back was hunched, he shuffled and dragged his feet whenever he walked, and the manner in which he gripped his tablet was supes reminiscent of how a soldier would hold up a shield when going into battle.
Every so often, he would pull out some walkie-talkie-esque, black-and-blue device from his hoodie pocket. He would give it a quick glance, shake his head in frustration, and continue to scuttle down the beach like some altogether anxious crustacean.
Cater hadn’t approached Ortho much these past two weeks ‘cause he really would’ve preferred for his first friend on the beach to be someone closer to his age. This teenager, thank the sevens, actually looked sixteen-ish, so he decided to go introduce himself.
Aaaaand help him off the ground, since, apparently, the teenager, who literally refused to take his eyes off his tablet for even a second, had now tripped over a leftover sandcastle. Once again, he had faceplanted into the sand. This time, he seemed to be resigned to just lying there and had yet to make any efforts to stand up.
After sprinting down the cliff and onto the beach, Cater chuckled when he realized that in the time it had taken him to do that, the teenager still hadn’t moved. He did, however, raise his head slightly, his piercing yellow eyes widening at first in alarm and then in irritation, when he heard Cater advancing.
“Um, hey there!” Cater said with practiced ease. He offered out his hand, and the teenager stared at it for a solid minute (yes, he mentally counted the seconds, and yes, it was as awkward as it sounded), before tentatively reaching up and using it to pull himself into a standing position. “Cater Diamond’s the name, and being awesome’s the game.” Curiously, he cocked his head. “Who’re you?”
White-knuckling his tablet, the teenager averted his gaze and muttered, “I—Idia Shroud.”
And without another word, Idia whirled right around and shuffled away.
Sheesh, not even a cursory “thank you” for the help? That was, like, kinda rude. Had Miss Congeniality over here never heard of manners?
Cater chewed the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath. Nopenopenope—the first rule of making friends, he had learned, was “Go along to get along.” Be peppy, be perky, be congenial, and let any discomfort roll right off. That mindset, after all, had always stopped him from being the “New Kid Who Sits Alone at Lunch” every time he had moved.
So. He did only as an I’m-so-desperate-for-friends-RN-this-is-totally-normal-BTW person would do.
He followed Idia as he continued to skulk along the beach.
Idia didn’t even seem to notice that the two of them were now walking side-by-side, which was good, ‘cause Cater was trying to be nonchalant. His arms were folded behind his head, and he stretched languidly as he hurried to match Idia’s strides (which had widened at his arrival). They were along the shoreline now, and the sea lapped at their ankles.
Cater frowned as his foot splashed in the calm turquoise water. One thing he had been particularly looking forward to doing on this trip had been surfing the ocean waves. He’d learned how to do it a couple of summers ago when his family had visited a beach near Dreamworksland, and it had been SO FUN. Major, major cowabummer that the waves at this beach were legit nonexistent.
Shaking his head in disappointment, he turned to Idia, who still hadn’t acknowledged his presence.
Attempting to keep his voice light, Cater asked, “Soooo, whatcha doing?”
“Getting trailed by the Energizer Bunny of Socialization, who’s hopped up on, like, seventy charisma stat powerups,” muttered Idia.
Cater had been thisclose to whipping out his phone and being all, like, “The Energizer Bunny???? OMG?? Where???” until realization dawned on him, and he laughed sheepishly. “LOLOL, hilarious. Sorry for bothering you and stuff, but you’re, like, the only person on this beach that’s my age. There’s nothing to do around here, and I’m just kinda beyond bored, y’know?”
Idia shrugged. “Skill issue. I’ve got loads to do.” An even deeper scowl marred his face as he once again took out whatever walkie-talkie gadget he’d pulled out earlier and surveyed it. “FML, bet the battery’s out.”
“The battery of what’s out?” wondered Cater as Idia pocketed the gadget.
“An advanced scanner that employs spatial proximity detection algorithms to ascertain and analyze local technomantic signatures and activities within the immediate vicinity.” When Cater stared at him in confusion, Idia rolled his eyes and slowly said, “A technomantic activity scanner.”
Oh. Ob—vi—ous—ly. “Cool! What’s it for?”
A sigh, as if he were explaining to a toddler, escaped Idia’s lips. “To check if my brother has been around here.”
“Ortho?” Them being brothers would make sense, since he and Idia seemed to have the same hair.
Idia wheeled on him, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “How do you know Ortho?”
“We’ve talked once or twice. He’s pretty okay for a kid.” Cater then grinned. “I didn’t realize he had a brother! Also—um, why’s it important if he’s been around here, BTW?”
“‘Cause he ran off to explore mid-me-reconfiguring-his-hardware.” Idia pulled a small chip from his pocket. “He left before I could reinstall his tracker or get his cell services back online, and I’ve completely lost visual as to where he is ATM.” Idia’s features contorted with worry, and he bit his lip. “Which is mega-bad, since we’re near a huge body of water,” they both glanced at the ocean, “and I still haven’t figured out how to max his waterproofing.”
Cater’s eyes flew open at that. Oooooh, now that he gave it another thought, he’d never actually seen Ortho go near the water; he’d always kept a healthy distance from it. In fact, the only water-related activity he appeared to participate in was spraying people with his nozzle. Yeah, he could guess how it would be super not good for a robot to get wet.
“Want some help looking for him?” he offered, as Idia, who was holding his tablet under his arm since he needed both hands to fiddle with his scanner, turned back around in the direction he’d come from.
Idia scoffed. “Uh, no thanks. I’m a solo player—plus, this is an elite-only mission, and there’s no way you meet the level requirements for it.”
Bristling slightly, Cater grit his teeth to keep his grin on. “Aw, c’mon, I can do stuff! I bet finding him will be a piece of cake if two people are on the case instead of one.”
“Gonna press ‘X’ to doubt that” was all Idia said as he walked over to his beach house. This time, he minded that the structure was floating and hopped gracelessly onto the portico, Cater in tow.
Together, they walked up the staircase. Cater had been content to wait outside the door while Idia fetched a new battery for his scanner. Whiiiiich was why his face resembled the :open_mouth: emoji when, although he didn’t expressly welcome him in, Idia gave him a halfhearted, backward wave upon seeing him lingering in the doorway and trying to make sense of the “ξενία” rug at his feet.
After walking inside, Cater’s jaw dropped when he realized that the interior of the house was just as opulent as the exterior. Even more columns peppered a spacious entryway, and marble tiles lined the floor. Intricately-carved statues stood sentinel in every corner and alcove, while the walls were decorated in complicated mosaics.
Many different corridors branched off from this main expanse, and he followed Idia down one of them. It was hard to focus on where he was going, due to the extreme splendor that greeted him wherever he looked.
If certain things—like an abundance of golden lightning bolt insignias and thundercloud carvings—hadn’t made the place look slightly tacky, and if he weren’t literally in someone’s private residence, Cater would’ve taken close to a zillion pictures to post on Magicam. Being here was like being in a freaking museum.
Before long, Idia swung open a door, revealing a room that most definitely did not resemble the interior or the exterior of the house.
Whereas everything previously had been white, laurel and olive green, and gold, the inside of this room was entirely black and blue. LED strip lights replaced windows and torches. Carved busts and mosaics gave way to anime figurines and videogame posters. The recurring lightning bolt motif was nowhere to be seen, instead taken over by numerous stylized skulls. A set of bunk beds, a desk, a PC, a bookshelf, a TV, and a videogame console were the only furniture.
Everything in this room looked slipshod and slightly messy, as if the decorating had been done in a hurry and without much care. Cater got that. If this was some kinda vacation home, there was no need to put too much effort into how your room ended up looking. Well, given Idia’s personality and the way he barged through the door unceremoniously, he assumed that this was his room.
“Don’t touch anything,” instructed Idia as they filed inside. He beelined toward his desk, placed his tablet down, and began rummaging for a scanner battery.
Like I was gonna, Cater mused as he kept his hands staunchly behind his back. Idia was very nerdy, he observed as he gave the room a quick onceover.
He was trying his best not to be nosy, but, sevens, this guy was not doing a good job of hiding his SUPER cringey interests. Comicbooks, volumes upon volumes of manga, idol-themed body pillows, cosplay accessories, all manner of fandom memorabilia, board game boxes—everywhere he looked, he spotted a new level of geekery that was beyond his wildest imaginations.
He grinned. Who knew that such a gloomy scowl could hide such unfathomable dorkiness? It was sorta on-brand, though? And he wasn’t gonna lie: knowing Idia’s snark belied this kinda behavior made him even cuter.
Five minutes later, Idia still had yet to find the battery, so Cater ambled over to him. For a split second, he glanced at the PC screen and caught a glimpse of the last query: “top 10 BL manhwas.” (WTH did “BL” even stand for? Blow … lob? Cater had absolutely no clue.) Idia yelped and closed the window when he saw that he had left it open.
Cater leaned on the desk and observed Idia as he continued to search. “What’s the 411 on the battery sitch, Ids?”
Idia glared at him. “Dude, if you’re gonna call me a nickname, I would lowkey prefer ‘Gloomurai’ or ‘Blue Idia.’”
“Yeahhhhh, I don’t think so.”
“Then I’m gonna call you ‘Cay,’ and that sounds actually stupid AF.”
Laughing, Cater twirled a strand of his hair diffidently. “TBH, I go by Cay-Cay sometimes!”
“Forget what I said before: that sounds actually stupid AF.” Idia rolled his eyes and continued to scour his desk. “Anyways, I know exactly where I left a new battery.” His eyes widened. “It’s on my bed.” Cater whipped toward the bunk beds, as Idia groaned and added, “At home.”
Welp.
Cater knitted his eyebrows in consternation. “And there’s no other way to power your scanner?”
Idia shook his head. “This thing runs exclusively on batteries, since using any kind of magic would screw up the tracking.” He began to crack his knuckles nervously, and a bead of sweat dribbled down his forehead. “But I’ve gotta find Ortho and make sure he’s all good.” So quietly that Cater realized that he probably wasn’t supposed to hear this part, Idia whispered, “I can’t lose him again.”
Sensing the urgency of the situation, Cater tried to appear placating. “DW, my guy, we’ll find him, even without your scanner.” He racked his brain for a solution, wishing he was on his porch to try and get a clear vista of the sprawling sands for Ortho. “Have you tried checking the far end of the beach?”
“I dunno, did you see me checking the far end of the beach?” sniped Idia, who was now pacing the room apprehensively.
Cater tried to brush off this bout of prickliness, knowing that Idia was just worried for his brother. “I mean, he sometimes goes over there to collect seashells ‘n’ stuff. Or maybe he went to the seagull nests by the cliffside. IIRC, he likes taking pics of the chicks—the seagull kind, obvi.”
Idia sniffed. “What are you? Some kinda stalker?”
He blushed and waved his hands pacifyingly. “Noooo, it’s not like that! It’s just that I live in the villa up on the cliff behind the beach, and there are occasions where I see your brother doing stuff outside when I sit on the porch. He’s p’ interesting to watch compared to all the other tourists, and I kinda guess I also like making sure he’s okay and all.” Clearing his throat, Cater continued, “I highkey would consider myself to be a guardian angel or a … a …” he deflated a little, “super bored and lonely teenager with nothing else to do.” Yuck. That last part had been way TMI.
“You’ve been … you’ve been looking out for my brother like that?” Idia wondered slowly. He was silent for a moment, and Cater winced. But then, a grin broke out on his face, overtaking his usual frown. Wow. If Cater had thought Idia looked hot scowling, he was on a whole other level of gorgeousness when he smiled. “That’s insanely creepy.” But the insult couldn’t hide the pleased note in his voice.
Cater had assumed that Idia would insist that they split up to cover more ground to find Ortho but was surprised (and happily so) to hear him say, “We’ll scope that section of the beach you mentioned RQ before checking out the cliffs.”
If Ortho wasn’t in either of those places, they’d search the boardwalk for any sign of him. All the while, they would listen for the sounds of annoyed beachgoers in case Ortho had blasted them with water.
If all else failed, they could just walk up the cliff to Cater’s porch and survey the entire beach from there. He had suggested doing that first, but Idia had pointed out that they needed to physically get to Ortho. For now, it would just be easier to walk to the places he most likely would be, before giving the beach a full overview and trying to find a faraway blip of blue-and-white in a sea of tiny tourists. (Even though Cater, experienced as he was in doing just that, was confident he could. Idia, shockingly, didn’t doubt him.)
As they walked to where he had often seen Ortho collecting shells, Cater noticed that Idia, who seemed unburdened by the fact that he was dressed in dark layers, continuously glanced at the ocean.
He knew exactly what was on his mind: Ortho may have been a smart little robot, but what if he’d somehow accidentally hovered into the water and found trouble? Without his tracker on, how would they ever know where his body was? Okay, that was sorta messed-up, but still.
Lucky for them, any and all worries remained just that—worries—for as they neared the far end of the beach, which was littered with seashells, they spotted Ortho wandering about. Studiously examining shell fragments, he didn’t acknowledge Cater nor Idia as they walked up to him.
But without raising his head, he greeted them with a “Hello, brother! And hello …” he paused and Cater guessed he was probs going through his database of names, “Cater Diamond! What are you both doing here?”
Idia ignored the question completely and frowned. “Ortho, seriously? What kinda F-tier move was that, dashing off before I could get your tracker reinstalled?”
Ortho turned to him confusedly. “Oh, were you not done back then? I thought you were, so I decided to go collect shells for my mosaic.”
“A mosaic?” Cater raised his eyebrows. “OMG, spill.”
“You see, Cater Diamond,” eagerly explained Ortho, “our Uncle’s home is filled with numerous mosaics. Seeing them sparked my desire to try my own hand at creating one. I recently uploaded a new creativity module, and this vacation seemed like the perfect opportunity to put it to the test.
“However, I encountered a challenge: the scarcity of glass and the limited variety of colorful stones here on the beach. So, I improvised and decided to use seashells as my tesserae of choice. According to my research, this alternative is a unique and creative approach to the art of mosaic!” Ortho’s eyes lit up. “Let me show you what I’ve done so far!”
Idia looked as if he were ready to argue, but he allowed Ortho to lead him and Cater to a sheltered region of the beach. It was closer inland, where the tides would never reach. There, on the sand, lay hundreds of shells in various hues, and they were all arranged in a half-finished portrait. Its subject looked suspiciously familiar.
“Aw, isn’t that totes adorbs?” Cater squealed as he poked Idia in the shoulder. “Your little bro’s making a mosaic of you!”
He had to hold in his gasp when the tips of Idia’s blue hair shifted pink when he blushed.
“Don’t you think it’s good, brother?” Ortho asked, his eyes closing contentedly. “I even tried to get your smile just right!”
“JTLYK, you definitely succeeded,” interjected Cater. “And you should smile more, Idia,” he examined the mosaic and beamed, “‘cause you look way cute like that!”
Idia looked at the ground, his face turning even pinker as he rubbed his arm shyly. “I—it’s great, Ortho. R—really, really A1. But you should go home so I can get your tracker in you before you do anything else.”
Ortho hummed in consent and immediately turned back toward their house. “Of course! I’ll return and continue my work here once the installation is complete.”
Cater and Idia followed a few feet behind him. The sun was just starting to set, shading the horizon in purple, pink, and gold, and the tranquil rhythm of foaming tides harmonized perfectly, somehow, with the calling of the seagulls. Beyond the both of them, the beach stretched out, curving along the shoreline, while the cliffs loomed on their left. With every step, the sand yielded beneath their feet, leaving imprints as they moved forward.
At that moment, Idia cleared his throat and said, “Th—thanks for today.”
Cater smiled. So Miss Congeniality had heard of manners, after all. “No problem!”
Idia stopped in his tracks and spun so that they stood face-to-face, his yellow eyes boring directly into Cater’s green ones. (Cue the skipping of heartbeats.) “No, I really mean it, okay? Like, duh, I could’ve found Ortho even if I ran solo,” he scoffed, “but you were a top-tier teammate.”
His face grew warm at Idia’s words, and Cater began to fiddle with one of his earrings. “Thanks a bunch for saying that! And, hey! I’m only as good as my teammate, y’know.”
By now, they had reached Idia and Ortho’s beachfront home. Cater still had a short walk to his family’s clifftop villa. As the Shroud brothers ascended the staircase, he chewed his lip and called to Idia, “See you around this summer?”
Idia, who’d already reached the top of the stairs, turned to face him. He shrugged. “Maybe.”