Seen & Unseen

CHAPTER 1

THE SEEN

SEN

There’s never enough privacy to keep everything hidden, but as Sen tucks his leatherbound journal into the back corner of his desk drawer, he does his best to convince himself otherwise. Nobody would call him an angry man—and he isn’t—but the blemished snow outside his study’s window is enough to at least break the peace. As a historian, he knows well how the leap from disruption to destruction is often a series of small steps, and those large boot prints serve as a far too tangible reminder. Nobody should be here… not at this hour.

The sun isn’t yet above the horizon, and the snow is still a frozen, unmarred sheet of white. Or it was… until someone decided to create tracks from the main road up to their farmhouse’s porch. He and Kami chose to live out here for several reasons, but privacy was primary among them. He’d be lying if he didn’t also acknowledge the living history of their home as a contributing factor. But given their circumstances, it’s best to live where meddling small-town neighbors can’t see everything, and he’d have chosen to do so even if the house hadn’t been passed down in Kami’s family for generations.

Thank the Seen and Unseen for the peace which allows for such freedom.

Why would anyone be here now, though?

 Sen moves from his study into the foyer, hoping to keep his family asleep a while longer. Winter pours inside the moment he opens the large oak door to his home before anyone can knock, and the well-loved flannel blanket around his shoulders isn’t enough to keep him from exchanging his polite smile for a grimace. The only saving grace is the crisp scent of freshly fallen snow.

The ancient, weathered pine of the front porch is covered with a thin layer of frost, blending seamlessly into the rest of the scenery. Icicles drip from the porch roof, drilling holes in the snow piled beneath them, one frigid droplet at a time. It’s late February in the mountains, when the world is blanketed more often than it’s not, and as his eyes adjust to the lack of contrast outside, his gaze settles on the Seen official.

He’d expected it to be someone from town, requesting some favor or another. Instead, Kader, a friend and colleague from his former Assignment days, huddles before him. While wonderful to see the man, it’s also a curious thing. What is he doing in Benteo? Sen has worked with the Academies long enough to understand this is abnormal, and the slow realization settles like iron in his gut, souring his initial excitement over seeing the familiar face.

“Hello, Sen.” Kader’s voice is a muffled, apologetic whisper. He’s covered head-to-toe in wool, mouth buried in his scarved collar. “I hope I didn’t wake anyone else. I saw the light on in your study and figured you were up.”

They typically greet one another warmly, but not today.

Sen breathes deeply against tightening muscles, looking past the porch railings to the blinking green light of the transport cart pulled off the main road. Kader must have taken the sturgeon overnight and caught a cart from Benteo Delta all the way out here. Definitely not just stopping by, casually seeing a light on in the window. Seen officials don’t make house calls.

What do they want from him? Or is it about Kami? It can’t be… He swallows hard.

“Why are you here?” Sen’s voice is gruffer than usual, and he quickly realizes his lapsed manners. He and Kader may have a long friendship, but he’s still the Seen, and they deserve respect. Especially since it’s clear he’s here in a professional capacity. “I mean, it’s just that it’s barely morning, and you’re a long way from home.”

“I know it’s unusual for me to show up like this. I was hoping we could talk.” Kader glances inside, but Sen isn’t opening his home at this hour.

“Let me put on a coat and boots. I’ll meet you at the gazebo on the other side of the clearing.” Sen gestures with a tilt of his head toward the back of the house. “Start that way, and you’ll find it.”

Kader nods once before tucking his hands into his pockets and heading off, and Sen reaches for his wool coat from the hook by the door, taking his time. It doesn’t make sense. Either this is really good, or really bad. He’s guessing it’s the latter. Has he missed an Academy notice? Were his last submitted curriculum adjustments inappropriate in some way? Did he forget to update comms to show his time off for the next six months?

No, he’s certain he entered that. He’d checked it twice, just to be sure.

If a Seen official is here, it must be something important, otherwise they would have called or sent a note. The knot in his stomach grows as he trudges across the yard and considers what might be happening. Is it his mother, and they want to deliver the news in person? This thought elicits a baffling combination of emotions he’ll sort through later… or not. Perhaps it’s about one of his past Assignments? No, they wouldn’t come over something so insignificant. His mind keeps veering toward his greatest fear—that they know about him or Kami—but that’s impossible. They’ve been careful.

Kader’s smile as Sen approaches is reassuring, at least, and his shoulders relax. Relief trickles in, offering a sweet, albeit temporary, reprieve from his awareness of the cold.

“Thank the Seen and Unseen for scarves and mittens,” Kader chuckles, puffing frost into the air with each syllable.

The two old friends extend their familiar greeting, clasping forearms and pulling each other close until they’re chest-to-chest. So perhaps it’s a friendly visit after all?

“It’s supposed to be nearly spring,” Sen forces out between chattering teeth. “I’m sorry I couldn’t invite you in. I didn’t want to disturb my family.”

 “I won’t keep you long. The last thing I need is one of our best innovators dying from hypothermia on my account. And I don’t really care to die, either, for that matter!”

“Yes, the Academies probably wouldn’t want that.” It comes out icy. Sen tries again for a lighter tone. “Really, I’m eager to hear what this is about. What brings you all the way to Benteo?”

“We need you to come in on Assignment.”

So, not just a friendly visit, then. He sighs.

Ten years ago, Sen would have been flattered and thrilled to have a Seen official personally request him. Five years ago, even. But that’s not his life anymore. That’s not who he wants to be. He has responsibilities, and as much as he respects the Academies, his days of travel and adventure are over. He now serves them as an instructor, and it’s good, honorable work.

“You know I don’t do Assignments anymore.”

“I know. The students at Amani Academy don’t stop talking about your history classes, which is a first. It’s just that there’s something we’ve discovered, and you’re the one for the job. I can’t—”

“I really do apologize.” Sen blows hot breath into his cupped hands, holding them over his face for warmth. “I know myself, and if you tell me what it is, it will be even harder to decline. I feel terrible that you traveled all this way, but I’m not available.”

Kader shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand.”

But Sen does understand. It’s already been hard enough for him to settle into his new role, and he often feels the pull back. He needs to be home with Kami and Harai, and his teaching role at Amani allows him to do that.

“It’s not often I say that I can’t — or won’t — do something for the Academies, but this is one of those times. My Assignment days are done.” He ignores the stab of disappointment in his chest.

“The Unseen requested you, personally.” Kader lifts his chin for emphasis.

Worlds. Of course they did. What could the Unseen possibly want with him?

Though few have ever met them throughout the centuries since the Reset, Sen holds the Unseen in the highest regard, as most do. They united the world, ushered in the lasting peace of the Now Times, and govern with goodness and compassion for all people. And, in their benevolence, they appointed the Seen to be their ambassadors to the public, so nobody ever feels alone, abandoned, or on their own. Both arms—the Seen and Unseen—operate with the sole purpose of service toward humanity. If this practically all-seeing entity desires his presence, who is he to say no? Surely they know better than he does.

Still, Sen stays resolute, rubbing his hands together vigorously. Kami would never accept it. Hopefully, the Unseen will recognize his commitment to his family as righteous.

Kader finally concedes with a long exhale. “I’ll see if I can get someone else on it then. But I wouldn’t have left Alvera if I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“I know, and I’m honored the Unseen thought of me. Truly, thank you.”

When Kader smiles, only half his mouth lifts. “You’d better get back inside. Your lips are turning blue.”

“I wish you well, friend. I’ll come visit next time I’m in Alvera,” Sen promises, turning back toward the house.

“I certainly hope so. Please let your father know we’re thinking of him often and wish you all well. We miss him back home.”

The sincerity in his voice is disarming, and it strikes Sen for the first time that Kader must have spent a lot of time with his dad. He’s not quite sure what emotion this conjures, but perhaps it’s jealousy. Maybe a hint of anger as well, if he’s being honest, but he tosses that one into the void, as usual.

“I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Thanks. Maybe he can come with you next time you visit campus.”

Sen rubs his hands together again, as if it’s actually doing any good, and assures himself he has no intention of going to Alvera anytime soon, so there’s no point in thinking about it. While his mom would want him to visit, he’s committed to showing her the same amount of attention she’s always shown him, which is to say, none. 

Kader and Sen both watch the ground closely to avoid slipping, boots crunching easily through the layer of ice on the surface of soft, powdered snow, but Sen’s stomach lurches when he smells smoke and looks up to see billows of white rising from the chimney. Kami is awake already, and she has no doubt noticed his absence.

“Looks like I woke them after all,” Kader says, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, Sen resigns himself to the interrogation to come. “I’m not sure what I’m going to say to her.”

“Maybe she’ll tell you to come back to Alvera with me.” Kader grins, dimples on full display despite the dark stubble covering the bottom half of his face. Sen has seen him use that smile to its full advantage on countless occasions, but it doesn’t work on him. Never has.

“Not likely. She’s getting close to delivering. The midwife says we’ve still got another month or six weeks, but she delivered early last time, so you never know.”

“Well, I’ll be in Benteo until this afternoon if you change your mind. I can easily add you to the sturgeon itinerary.”

“No need. I won’t be changing my mind.” Sen pauses at the porch steps.

Kader purses his lips. “It was worth the try.”

“I suppose it was. Sorry to disappoint you.”

They exchange the common farewell blessing, holding arms as they kiss both cheeks, and Sen waves as Kader walks down the long drive toward the awaiting cart. He climbs into it, light switching from flashing green to solid red, before the transport silently accelerates toward town with the Seen official tucked safely inside. It hasn’t even made it around the bend before the door opens behind him. Warm air shuffles the black waves snaking out from beneath Sen’s favorite fur-lined hat.

He doesn’t turn around right away. First, he pats his pocket three times and reaches inside. Fidgeting with the acorn there, Sen jabs the pointed end into his thumb, holding it in place until his brain stops registering the pain. He closes his eyes and inhales the aromas wafting from inside—old paper and leather mingling with the woodsmoke of freshly lit pine.

“You coming in? Or am I just letting the warm air out for no reason?” Kami’s voice, usually velvet, has early morning gravel in it.

He can also tell she’s smiling by the way the ends of her words lilt, like when she sings. At least she’s not upset. Either that or, knowing her, she’s trying to alleviate her own concerns by feigning lightness.

“Oh, I’m coming in. I can’t feel my face anymore.”

She chuckles. “Tea’s almost done. That should help warm you up.”

“Thanks, my love.”

Sen rolls the acorn between his fingers as he heads inside. It’s served as an anchor for him since the moment he received it…when Kami gifted the keepsake to him all those years ago. She’d placed a soft linen pouch into his hand that day, and when he’d shown his confusion, she’d told him they were like that acorn, full of life and potential. She kept one for herself, too. ‘It may seem small now,’ she’d said, ‘but one day, it’ll be a mighty tree.’ Sen had imagined Yggdrasil, the tree of life from his history books, with branches extending to the realms above and roots diving into the realms below, standing firm in many worlds at once. As it turns out, they’d both been right.