"AH!!! Sooooooooooo you are the new kid!!!!"
Elowen sang loudly as Sol facepalmed, his hand sliding down his face with resignation as someone who had witnessed this exact disaster multiple times before.
He gushed past Sol like wind toward Lyor, hands thrown forward to 'inspect' the new arrival. His auburn curls bounced with each step, vials clinking on his belt like warning bells that no one ever heeded.
Lyor recoiled so fast it looked as though someone had hurled an Ember stone at him. He threw his hands up, covering his face, shoulders hunching instinctively. That dumbass proceeded anyway.
He peeled his arms away from his face and promptly cupped his cheeks, squishing them inward.
Lyor's eyes went comically wide, whites showing all around, and Sol had to press his lips into a thin line to stop laughing. He looked like a startled Songbird, all feathers frozen in panic.
"Oh, don't be like that," he chirped.
"Let me see, let me see," Elowen went on, tilting Lyor's head left, then right, as if evaluating a vegetable at market. "Hm. Bone structure is similar to the last few arrivals. But thinner. Much thinner. You need more food. Mira got you covered."
He pressed Lyor's cheeks together again, turning his face upward. "Look up. No, higher. Good. Eyes clear. Pupils responsive. Very dramatic expression." He booped his nose.
"Stop—" Lyor tried, but Elowen was already lifting his chin.
"Open," Elowen commanded, and to everyone's surprise, Lyor obeyed.
Elowen leaned in far too close, peering inside his mouth. "Teeth intact. Gums not healthy. But can be fixed."
He then reached up and grabbed a few strands of Lyor's hair, rubbing it between his fingers.
"So white," he breathed in awe. "Like a Snow Prince." He twirled a strand thoughtfully, holding it up against the light. "Does it glow in moonlight? We must test that later."
Lyor stared at him in stunned disbelief.
Elowen grinned wildly and started patting down his shoulders. "Let's see the arms. Any drawings? Any—"
A firm hand landed squarely on top of Elowen's head with a dull smack.
He froze.
Teebu stood behind him, expression stern.
"You can stop treating him like one of your pets."
Elowen opened his mouth to argue, but one look from Teebu made him snap it shut. He offered a sheepish smile instead, glasses slipping slightly down his nose.
"Right," Elowen said, clearing his throat. He stepped back and this time gently placed his hand over his chest. "PROPER INTRODUCTION!"
Lyor flinched again at the sound.
Elowen paused, noticing. His voice softened.
"The name is Elowen, nineteen years old, and I am the alchemist here."
"L-Lyor Daniels. I-"
"You have TWO NAMES!?" Elowen yelped, delighted, already forgetting his restraint, bouncing on his heels. "How mysterious! We only have one name. Boring. Basic. Like bread without butter. Like water without—"
Sol reached and trapped him by putting his arm around the neck, dragging him back. Elowen's words dissolved into wheezing protests, his glasses askew, hands flailing at Sol's forearm.
"Teebu, I think we need to speak with him more," Sol said, ignoring the weak elbow digging into his ribs. "And only we should know about his memories."
"What about his memories, honey?" Elowen asked, looking up through his stupidly round glasses, still somehow managing to sound intrigued despite the chokehold.
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Sol tightened his grip, felt Elowen's hair tickling his chin, the familiar frustration creeping in. "I don't have a gooey body. It's as firm as Crolion muscles!"
Hearing that, Lyor covered his hands over his mouth and looked down immediately. His shoulders shook slightly. Sol thought he was crying, yet felt no sadness, then recognized the shape of suppressed laughter. The kid was laughing at them, or trying not to, the sound muffled behind his palms.
Sol held back a retort, remembering the little confession in the forest, not wanting to make him feel scared of him even more. He released Elowen with a shove, and his friend stumbled forward, straightening his glasses with wounded dignity, already opening his mouth to complain, but closed it in resignation.
Soft wind wrapped around them, carrying scents of silvermint and distant rain, easing the tension. The whisperwood leaves rustled, a sound like distant approval.
"Agreed," Teebu said, his voice settling the moment.
"Lyor, I know you are tired, but I think you are still mistaken. About this place and us." He gestured toward the healing house, the open door.
"Why don't we talk a bit more and let you rest before you take a stroll in the village?"
Lyor looked at the door, then at the forest behind him, then at the others. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sol saw the calculation there, the weighing of options.
"One day," Lyor said again, as if reminding himself, the words thin but holding.
"One day," Teebu confirmed. "And honest answers. From all of us."
They walked back toward the healing house, Elowen chattering about nutritional deficiencies and dream analysis, Mira falling into step beside Lyor with careful distance.
Sol brought up the rear, watching the white-haired kid's shoulders, the way they slowly, incrementally, stopped hunching toward his ears.