Chapter Text
The forest of Penacony National Park is a noticeable step up from the bland and depressing gray ocean of Pier Point. With beautiful blue spruces stacked up into the horizon like dominoes and inky gray mountains framing the sky, Aventurine is starting to understand why people adore this.
The park is idyllic. Refreshing. Peaceful, even.
More importantly, his new post as a fire lookout means he will be spending most of his days alone.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” his (now former) roommate Topaz had asked, when Aventurine first brought up his impending move. Her initial annoyance, that he would make such a grand change without consulting anyone about it first, had been quickly replaced with concern. “You’ll be super isolated, and if there’s actually a fire…”
“Oh please,” Aventurine had said, brushing her off. “I’ll be fine! You worry too much.”
“I’d love to worry less, but you make it hard.”
“If anything goes wrong--which it probably won’t--all I’ll have to do is call in the big guns. Most of the time I’ll be standing around doing nothing, anyway.”
The boredom is something he will have to find a way around quickly, but he’s nothing if not creative. He can always take a few days off here and there and visit the local mountain towns too, if the cabin fever grows too burdensome.
“Aventurine,” Topaz had said, sighing, “you are so stupid sometimes.” Aventurine cannot necessarily disagree, but despite her disapproval, she did not hesitate to help him collect his meager belongings and prepare for his move to the park.
There wasn’t all that much to pack up, anyway, so it took no time at all.
Even accounting for his general flippancy, he doesn’t intend to completely shirk his duties here. Acheron, the whole reason he even has this job to begin with, will be manning the other closest tower in the area. He owes her a lot for her support over the years, silent and steadfast without real judgment, so he’s not going to make an embarrassment of himself for her sake, even if she had been initially hesitant with her offer.
Once hearing of her last minute vacancy, however, he had all but insisted, and she had complied.
“I guess you’re just trying to prove something,” she had said cryptically. “I won’t stop you, if that’s truly what you want.”
Trying to forget his friends’ dwindling levels of enthusiasm, he makes his way up the mountainside for his first day.
Acheron stands beneath the tower when he finally arrives, gaze drawn up and up past the spiral of the metal staircase. The tower is taller than Aventurine expected, but he doesn’t suspect it will take very long to acquaint himself with it. He’s never developed a fear of heights, after all.
“Good, you’re here,” Acheron says when he finally stands before her, trying not to look like he’s gasping for air. She hardly gives him a moment to catch his breath, gesturing for him to follow her up. As they climb, Aventurine takes a good long look around him. With the trees dropping lower and lower, he can begin to look further and further into the distance.
Seeing it now before him, he can’t imagine ever getting used to the view, even if it is doomed to happen someday.
By the time they reach the top, Aventurine, already exhausted from the initial hike and the thin air, can no longer hide his heavy breathing, though he does try his best to smother the sound so as not to embarrass himself.
“You’ll get used to it,” Acheron says, like she can guess exactly what he’s thinking.
“Merciless as always,” he quips right back.
“Just stating the truth.”
She guides him through his equipment and shows him his alidade, reminds him of basic procedure, and tells him not to forget the sunscreen every morning. He makes mental notes here and there as she explains, asks questions when she mentions something unfamiliar, and ultimately attempts to present himself as someone professional and capable, for whatever that is worth.
“Looking forward to checking in with you every morning, Miss Raiden,” Aventurine says cheekily. He obviously already gets along well with her, so he’s not averse to spending a few minutes of each day with her as his only company.
“Oh,” Acheron says.
How she is capable of packing so much of Aventurine’s reservation into such a short word, Aventurine will never know.
“There was a last minute adjustment,” she explains. “The previous fire watcher will actually be keeping his post for the summer, instead of switching over to me. I apologize for the suddenness of the arrangement.”
“Ah. I see,” Aventurine says, trying to smile through his annoyance. He knows how important Acheron is to making sure the park runs smoothly. If she is needed elsewhere, then he won’t be the one to stop her, though the last minute change does rankle him a bit.
“I’ll still drop by to check in on you every so often, and to bring up supplies, of course,” she promises. “Plus, Ratio is an ace at his job. You’ll have an easy time with him.”
It’s some form of reassurance, but still. Aventurine will be stuck with a stranger for the summer. How fun. He only hopes that this ‘Ratio’ will be a worthwhile conversationalist for the times they will be forced to work together, or else Aventurine will be spending the majority of his time familiarizing himself with the local bird populations instead.
Aventurine asks his final questions and waves Acheron goodbye. From the main observation point at the cab of the tower, he watches her figure grow smaller and smaller and then finally disappear between the trees.
Sooner than he can process it, he is alone.
He doesn’t dwell too long on the sensation, electing to start unpacking immediately. The provided bed leaves much to be desired in terms of comfort, but a bed is a bed and Aventurine cannot complain because at least he has one. There’s a desk and a couple chairs too, as well as his assortment of living and forest equipment and a stuffed bookshelf, but for the most part the tower is bare and without personality.
The night comes quietly, and the following morning is calm. He gets up early despite his full body exhaustion, watching the sun peek out from behind the mountains, cradled in pinks and oranges. The sunrise is picturesque and gentle, and Aventurine would like to think that nothing could disturb this quiet, esoteric peace.
Or at least, it would be quiet and peaceful, were the image not loudly and rudely interrupted by the screech of his walkie talkie going off.
“I’ve been told that you are new.” A sigh, gravely and harsh through the speaker, follows. Aventurine feels almost offended that the man on the other end wouldn’t even try to hide his annoyance, rather than being up front about it. “Let us get this over with.”
This is who Acheron said Aventurine would have an easy time getting along with? Acheron is either oblivious, or playing some kind of joke on him.
Despite his poor attitude, the other man methodically guides Aventurine through the motions of morning check in. Even through his grumpy mood, Aventurine has no problems keeping up with the other lookout, and they finish quickly.
In the awkward silence that follows, Ratio makes no move to appear more chatty. Feeling like testing his luck, Aventurine pulls his walkie talkie up to his mouth and tries for something casual.
“So…You’re Mr. Ratio?”
A pause. “It’s Dr. Ratio, actually.”
‘Doctor,’ Aventurine mouths, before continuing aloud, “What’s a doctor doing all the way out here? This all seems a bit…low brow for you. No offense.”
The pause that follows is uncomfortably long, and Aventurine gets the feeling that he must have misstepped somehow. A new record for him, he thinks. Usually he lasts a full minute before someone becomes annoyed with him.
“Please try to keep the channels clear,” the man responds shortly.
“Oh come on, Doctor,” Aventurine tries again. “We’re the only two people out here. Clear for what?”
“Clear in the event of an emergency. You know, the entire reason that we’ve been stationed out here in the first place?”
“You’re no fun,” Aventurine says, before holding down the push-to-talk button for thirty terrible, lengthy seconds.
When Ratio finally regains access to the channel, he somehow sounds even more irritated. “Stop joking around,” he says.
“Just making sure you’re up to snuff,” Aventurine says, not even hiding his laughter. “Acheron said you’re the best of the best, so I just wanted to make sure.”
“You are being needlessly childish. Why even come all the way out here, if you’re so keen on neglecting your duties?”
“Who said I’m neglecting my duties?” Aventurine says. He leans back in his chair, making another pass with his eyes toward the distant treeline. “Besides, you’ve apparently been stuck out here way longer than me. If anything, I’m just a rookie, and you’re a seasoned professional. Why’s that, dear Doctor?”
Just as Aventurine is ready to congratulate himself for roping Ratio back into an actual conversation, the line goes silent and Ratio does not respond further, even after Aventurine probes a few more times. To Aventurine’s disappointment, Ratio ends up staying silent for the entire rest of the morning, only chiming in for a robotic check in at lunch.
Aventurine almost considers giving up on the other man, chalking it up to a failure on his part from the get go, but he might as well apologize regardless.
“Hey, listen. I’m sorry,” he tries, some time in the afternoon. “I’m taking this seriously, I promise. I just thought that, with us being the only two people out here all day, we could get to know each other.”
Ratio doesn’t respond for a full minute. Aventurine is about to deem it a lost cause, before Ratio finally deigns to speak.
“I appreciate the apology,” Ratio says. “In truth, you are correct. We are the only two people who will be hearing each other’s voices regularly this summer. As such, I would expect a modicum of professionalism from you.”
“And that means keeping the lines clear? All day long?” Aventurine groans. Now that he has caught a whiff of Ratio’s personality, he’d prefer to spend at least a few days picking apart that man’s brain, rather than ignoring it entirely.
“No,” Ratio says, sounding weary. “Perhaps not. But do keep in mind that your equipment’s primary purpose is not for simple ‘chats.’”
“But we still can have them, yeah?”
Ratio sighs into the line. “If you must. Just promise me that you won’t let it distract you from your duties.”
“Of course not.” Aventurine says, saluting even though he knows Ratio can’t see him. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“I should hope so.”
Aventurine gives himself a mental pat on the back. Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
“So, do you do anything for fun?” Aventurine asks, when Ratio makes no move to add anything else of substance to the conversation. “It must get boring, being out here all on your own.”
“I pass the time,” Ratio says. “Usually with chess, or my research.”
“Chess? All by yourself?”
“Miss Acheron is a capable player. But when I am alone out here, then yes, I play against myself.”
Strange, Aventurine thinks, though who is he to judge? He dragged himself up the mountain carrying a backpack half stuffed with beads and yarn, after all.
“And your research? You do research up here?” Aventurine says.
“Mostly a smattering of personal ecological projects,” he says, before launching into a litany of words that Aventurine can vaguely connect to general ecological concepts and points of conservation efforts.
“Perhaps I can take you out and show you,” Ratio says, like someone just barely suppressing their desire to continue infodumping to the first receptive ear in the vicinity. “You should become acquainted with the walking trails here, anyhow.”
Aventurine was planning on giving it a few more days before listening to his boredom and going exploring, but it would probably be more productive to take advantage of a voluntary tour guide.
“If you’re offering,” he says.
“Let us wait until Wednesday. I will come to retrieve you at 5:00 sharp.”
Three days from now? Aventurine can do that.
Ratio only contacts him once more that first day for a nightly check in. Nothing else really notable happens--though Aventurine does think he sees a bear shaped blob in the distance sometime near sunset. He spends most of his downtime after finishing his unpacking browsing the tower’s bookshelf. Contrary to his expectations--that the shelf would be full of twenty-year-old manuals and outdated atlases, the shelf is actually filled with more recent volumes--text books on medicine and physics, fire prevention, the local ecosystem, but also a handful on history, anthropology, and philosophy. Strangely enough, even a few books on fairy tales rest on the bottom shelf, dusty and seemingly forgotten, though there are far fewer in number than the tomes.
That Ratio had said he was a doctor, and Aventurine assumed it was somewhere in the realm of biology or the environment. Looking at the veritable library before him, however, Aventurine wonders if perhaps this Ratio is sharper than first contact would assume.
The next day, Aventurine alternates between thumbing through one of the local ecosystem journals and setting up his crafts. He’s brought enough yarn and fabric and beads that he should be able to make Topaz and Acheron each a horde of new necklaces and matching scarves by the end of the summer.
At about 11 in the morning, his walkie talkie sounds.
“Mr. Kakavasha,” Ratio says.
Aventurine cringes. “I just go by Aventurine.”
“Like the stone,” Ratio says, contemplatively. “Is it a nickname? It does not match the name on your paperwork. That one seemed more familiar.”
Hm. Unfortunate, that Ratio might recognize that name, but it can’t always be helped. Aventurine tries to dodge the topic, clearing his throat.
“Yes, like the stone.”
“Very well, then. Let’s play chess, Mr. Aventurine.”
The request is abrupt, but Aventurine has no reason to say no. He was honestly expecting Ratio to bring it up sooner rather than later. “Just over the air?”
“Yes. You know how to play, I presume?”
“Of course.” It’s been a few years since Aventurine has actually sat down at a board with someone else, sure, but he still remembers the basics.
“Good. You may begin.”
They play for the next few hours. To Aventurine’s chagrin, he loses every game. Even after he gives up on multitasking with his knitting and focuses primarily on strategizing, he still loses.
“You’re weirdly good at this, Doc.”
“I’ve been playing since I was a child. It is only to be expected.”
This doctor is good at chess, and cocky too. Aventurine packs a pair of cards away in his travel pack. Maybe when they meet in person, Aventurine can dazzle the doctor with his poker skills.
They spend the remaining time before Wednesday playing chess and talking over the radio. Nothing notable happens in the forest--no smoke, no sudden blazes, no irresponsible hikers throwing cigarette butts into the bushes, but Aventurine does discover that his guess regarding the books is correct.
“I was originally posted at your tower,” Ratio explains, when Aventurine asks about it. “It was far too much of a hassle to move all the books with me when I relocated, so I left them there.”
“It’s a very eclectic assortment,” Aventurine observes.
Ratio hums dismissively. “Simple light reading material.”
Light reading material. Yeah, sure.
“And the fairy tale books? They don’t seem to fit the theme.”
The radio goes quiet. Aventurine has grown accustomed enough to Ratio’s responses by now that he doesn’t immediately think Ratio has ghosted him. But by the time he makes up his mind to question whether or not it’s an equipment malfunction, Ratio is speaking again.
“All the books are from my personal collection,” Ratio says finally, sounding resigned. “Please, try not to damage them. I’ve gone to great lengths to protect them from the elements, even in my absence.”
Aventurine glances over at the bookshelf. There’s a layer of protective tarp attached at the top, currently folded up and away so Aventurine can have easy access to the shelves. He makes a mental note to fold it back down before tomorrow morning.
For all he knows, Ratio probably loves those books more than he does other people. Even having left them behind in Aventurine’s tower, they’re still closer in physical proximity to Ratio than most humans will ever be, save for the moments when he has to climb down and lambast dumb hikers. He seems like the kind of guy to do that.
“Remember, I will be there tomorrow at 5:00.” Ratio cuts in, breaking Aventurine’s concentration. “Be prepared to leave at once.”
Aventurine already has his backpack for the following day sorted, sitting like a sentinel at the foot of his bed.
Ratio does not look at all like how Aventurine expected.
He’s muscular, yes, and tan. That much is to be expected, what with how long he spends outside.
He’s younger, though. There are the future signs of wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes, and a few strands of gray in soft blue hair hidden behind a beat up off white cap, but he barely looks five years older than Aventurine all the same. Plus from the sound of his voice over the radio, and the size of his unmissable ego, Aventurine would have guessed him to be at least a decade older.
He’s handsome too, even behind his sunglasses, which is frustrating. Some people get all the luck.
“Hurry up,” Ratio says. He has brought his own pack, a thick, lumpy obstruction on his back. “Did you bring a map? I will need to mark a few things for you.”
“Way ahead of you, Doc,” Aventurine says, as they meet at the foot of his tower. Ratio pulls a marker out from his breast pocket and quickly makes a few marks on the map--mostly just delineating the most important paths, as well as some natural hazards--before he returns it to Aventurine and they set off.
They walk for about a half hour before stopping. Ratio makes idle commentary about the landscape the whole time, while Aventurine struggles to both talk and keep up with his pace.
At least the sunrise is pretty, bathing them in soft orange and purple.
They stop beside a thin, fast moving stream. Ratio sets his bag down against a rock beside the bank and begins digging. Before Aventurine’s very eyes, Ratio pulls out the thickest, deadliest looking notebook that Aventurine has ever seen.
“You could kill someone with that,” Aventurine says, gaping. No wonder Ratio is so buff, if he’s been lugging that thing around with him every time he leaves the tower.
“Most people do not give me a reason to,” Ratio replies, smiling with teeth. “Do not be the first.”
Aventurine watches him work. Ratio takes extensive notes in the notebook, tubes some samples from the water, and then moves on.
Ratio tries to explain what he is doing as they walk, occasionally stopping to obtain some samples, bring out some random tool, or explain his thought process. Aventurine stops paying attention when the lecture transforms from things he should know--tips for navigation, signs to watch out for when looking for fires, or general survival skills--and morphs into things he doesn’t care as much for--measures of canopy cover, local beetle populations, blah blah blah.
In Ratio’s defense, he doesn’t do a half bad job describing his work in a way that keeps it interesting, much like an educator would. In Aventurine’s defense, he’s sleep deprived, sweaty, and growing more physically exhausted with each breath--factors that even the best teacher cannot alleviate.
Aventurine still tries to ask questions, here and there, when he isn’t busy panting. He’d like to at least pretend that he is capable of listening. Ratio hums appreciatively whenever Aventurine does, so it must be winning some sort of brownie points in his favor.
When they finally stop at a clearing for lunch, Aventurine sprawls down on his back in the grass and lets out a long, pained whine.
“Everything hurts,” he says, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes. “I’ll never recover.”
“That should be adequate for today,” Ratio says, removing his glasses and unwrapping a sandwich, looking as ruffled as one would after walking five minutes to the corner store. “I’ll walk you back and drop you off after we finish eating.”
Aventurine removes his hand to glare. “I think you must like trees more than people, to find this enjoyable,” Aventurine says.
Ratio frowns, though it does little to hide his amusement. “You just need to drink more water. Dehydration will do you no favors.”
“I know, I know.” Groaning, he struggles up into a seated position, already knowing that he will be sore tomorrow. Retrieving his water bottle from his pack, he chugs half of it down and then settles in for his own lunch.
Some water and a few minutes sitting in the shade does him wonders, however, and he finds himself bouncing back quickly.
“What are you a doctor of, anyway?” Aventurine asks, after he’s finished scarfing down his own food. “Ecology?”
“Medicine, actually.”
Medicine? It’s understandable that Ratio would have some first aid knowledge, sure. But his current ‘research,’ as he likes to call it, seems so far removed from medicine.
“Now I’m even more curious why you’re all the way out in the forest,” Aventurine says, sitting up. “There isn’t exactly a plethora of patients out here.” He goes to pull his cards out of his bag, shuffling them as he thinks. Maybe they can sneak a quick game in before Ratio herds him back to the tower.
“I could ask the same of you. Most people have their reasons, and I try not to pry.”
“Acheron was kind enough to refer me,” Aventurine says. It may not be the whole truth of the matter, but it’s not incorrect.
Ratio levels him an unimpressed look. “Yes, and she seemed hesitant to bring you on when we last spoke. I suspect that, had she not been reassigned, she would have denied you.” He gives Aventurine a not so subtle once over. “After our initial interactions, I had assumed it was because of your temperament, and yet I have found that in some ways, she was right about you. You are quite the dedicated individual. Most people who have attempted to follow me on my initiation hike quit before the sun has even finished rising.”
Aventurine freezes. “What the hell. Were you just hazing me?”
Ratio looks offended. “Absolutely not. Had you expressed even a single sign that you wished to quit, I would have gladly walked you back and helped to set you on your merry way. Most of the people in your position before you have realized that they are not cut out for this, and have done so themselves. I do not push people who do not wish to be pushed.”
“I guess I’ve just never been a quitter,” Aventurine says, still disgruntled. Maybe he was wrong about Ratio liking trees more than people. He must like them both equally. Because to him, Aventurine must have about as much worth as a tree.
Ratio sighs, and does not complain when Aventurine deals him a hand.
“I suppose, as an apology for giving you grief, I will answer your question.”
It takes Aventurine a moment to realize what Ratio is referring to, but when he does, a frisson of excitement passes through him.
“I have often considered myself as distinct from the life around me. Not superior to it, mind you, so do not misinterpret me. Simply different. I love life, and people, and nature, and will continue to do so until the day that I die.”
He turns away as he speaks, staring deep into the forest. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves around them like a million tiny, harmonizing voices. Ratio’s expression grows distant, and for a moment, he looks as though he has forgotten that Aventurine is even sitting there before him.
“The forest is not kind,” Ratio continues. “For most creatures, it is a matter of survival. A single accident, a cruel winter, an opportunistic predator--anything can spell disaster, cruelly and definitively.”
Ratio finally meets Aventurine’s eyes. Within them, Aventurine sees something molten and bright, like the mirror from his childhood apartment.
“But in some ways, this forest is the kindest place I have ever been. Every morning, the sun will rise, the wind will blow, and the birds will chirp. The mountains outside my window will stand there long after I die, and the leaves will grow back every year after the snow. Not because it wishes to, but simply because it is.”
Ratio chuckles, a soft little sound amidst the breeze. “I suppose that kindness is a comfort.”
Aventurine doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. Instead, they play a single round of poker. To Ratio’s barely concealed shock and pleasure, Aventurine wins, and after they finish cleaning up, Ratio walks Aventurine back to his tower, this time at a far more sedate pace.