Count Your Blessings PV Niffler Finished

Even though Valya was the same size as him, Yefim could hoist him up with exceptional ease. Like picking up a baby bird, he was brought into the warmth of Yefim's chest, which burned with the fire of exercise still. Hugging Val only made it more clear though just how skinny he was, like he was a skinbag filled with loose bones. Yefim had seen his fair share of people who were out on their luck, destitute, hungry and alone. He had never considered Valya to be destitute nor alone, so why did he look like a starving orphan?

Though, soon enough, Yefim would learn he was practically an orphan now. It would light a new fire in Yefim, not only because Valya's health was important to him and his mission, but because he intended to quell the suffering of the world with his strength. If anything, he had a strange new excitement about him, now that his mission was more clear. Get Val to eat. Reassure him that he is right to be angry about the fate of his father, let him know the pure unadulterated truth: Yefim would fix everything. It was easy to promise things when nothing felt impossible, and real justice seemed within grasp.

Though the brawny broomrider was imposing and filled with the confidence of tiger in a room of kittens, he was not yet a man. He took part in an elaborate game of pretend, one so ingrained in him that he had been convinced it was reality. It helped that the two people closest to him exalted him, something that future therapists would no doubt contribute to the ease at which people are drawn to people such as him. When the world is difficult and confusing, it's comforting to think that someone knows what to do. For Yefim, it was comforting to think things would work out no matter what. In either of their lives, comfort was rare and covetous.

After a good half-cuddle, Val returned to the ground, looking good enough to walk. Niff's endurance and spirit were beyond compare, and something Yefim would admire about him in that moment with a proud smile. Valya was his, and what a perfect Valya he was-- as golden like the snitch in the sun. Yefim would wear a big, goofy grin when Niff called him amazing. For as full of himself as he was, he was not immune to a swell of joy to hear it acknowledged. The conversation was a difficult one though, and Yefim's expressions would change with each thought that went through his head.

[”My mom is great, don't get me wrong. She's smart and tough as nails. Papa always said people wouldn't believe it, that they would be scared.”] Yefim quickly spoke to defend his mother, who he also looked up to. Somehow, the conflict in his mind of either of his parents being wrong could not resolve itself. Certainly his mother also secretly knew and agreed, but also needed to keep quiet for appearances. Mental gymnastics didn't seem so complex when everyone looked good in the end. [”Never heard anything. Not about dying, prison, nothing. We don't even talk about the investigation anymore, the last time I saw a policeman at our house was two years ago, he could be anywhere. I was... I thought he would tell me. Maybe I still have to wait... until I'm ready?”]

For once, Yefim's words were questioning, not certain. However, Niffler's words brought his spirits back in an instant. That was right, they would make justice, with their own actions. He would keep fighting, keep winning, and keep growing. He was a fiendfyre, blazing uncontrollably, and nothing would survive his imminent destruction. His father was right. He would cleanse the world of evil and plunge it into perfect, holy chaos. At the time of reckoning, his father would no doubt be there, praising his name like the others. If that day were to come, he would insist two more names be shouted in horror and elation-- Valentin, Mikael. Without them, he would never have been able to keep the fire inside him burning so brightly.

[”If I hear from my father, Valya, you will be the first one I tell.”] Another smile warmed by the burning in his heart.

With the cool breeze on his sweat-beaded scalp, the periphery of the camp could be seen as the many students residing there would create a microcosm of activity. It was no longer the odd hours of the morning, with Yefim realizing then that he rarely ever took the time to just talk. Perhaps it was because it always felt like there was something he needed to be doing-- training and studying, mostly. He had left so much in his life up to fate, that he had forgotten to stop and appreciate what was right there in front of him.

[”A... darkness?”] Yefim would break his all-time record of questioning things with a second question.

As Yefim looked at him, Valya looked back. In those eyes, he saw the brilliance of a star, and the conviction of a wise elder. Yefim listened intently, drawn in by his beautiful speech. The way the words flowed, their strength and their weight, Yefim could feel himself overcome as if standing in a river. Tears would drench his eyes, though the expression was far from sad. It was triumphant, steeled, like the blade he was meant to be.

[”Of course!”] Yefim would pump his fists into the air, invigorated and loud. A few hyperactive hops would replace walking. [”That's exactly right! Together we can do ANYTHING!”]