Inside, the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom. The roses and tulips, too, had opened their petals, along with the violets, starflowers, rhododendrons and countless other flowering plants. Their cycles were not dictated by season or climate; they were in perpetual bloom, a riot of beautiful colours and scents. Lirael had told him that the chamber was actually half as big as the ones in the Glacier, and more cheerful. High above, the smiling, benevolent face of the sun cast its light upon everything, highlighting the fading reflections of Charter Marks that floated like dust motes about a hunched figure.

Nicholas's head was bowed over something in his lap. He frequently consulted a paper beside him, bobbing his head between the page and the mysterious object. Sameth surmised that it held Charter marks- whatever Nicholas was making, it needed a great deal of spellwork. Marks floated up and around him, joining the others that were slowly fading. Curious, Sameth moved closer to where he sat.

The door closed behind him with a solid boom. Nick jerked and swore, mangling the pronunciation and drawing of a Charter mark. There was a bright flash from whatever he held and Sameth caught a glimpse of something streaking up into the trees, disappearing in its leafy branches.

Nick stood and turned around. The surprise on his face was a better reaction than what Sameth was hoping for. But it was quickly hidden behind a guarded politeness that pained him to witness.

"Sam. How did you- what are you doing here?" His hair fell over his eyes over his eyes in its usual disarray. Sameth's hand twitched, wanting to push it back, just as it had for years. Nicholas was dressed simply in Old Kingdom garb. His laced shirt was gaping at the collar, exposing skin whose tan was quickly fading from being cooped up inside for so long. He had stubbornly brought his Ancelstierran wardrobe with him over the Wall, only to watch in dismay as it unravelled stitch by stitch on the journey to Belisaere. In the end, he'd had to borrow some of Sam's clothes temporarily- in fact, this was one of the very shirts he used to work in, with the stubborn grease stains at the sleeves and dabs of paint on the front.

Nicholas still looked at him expectantly and Sameth knew he was fast running out of excuses for being places. He tried to avoid his gaze, eyes drifting down to the exposed skin again. It was no new sight, nothing indecent, yet the smooth span brought heat to his cheeks.

"Well, uh, I wanted to visit- that is, I came to see- I just wanted...to see the flowers. And trees. And birds?"

"Oh. Right. I see." The pretense was shamefully transparent, but Nick didn't call him out on it.

The memory of their last meeting made Sameth want to curl into a ball. All assurances that he wouldn't regret his actions dissolved; he'd been so foolish, letting his fears control him, lashing out at the one person he loved above all. Sameth wondered desperately if there was something he could do, something he could say, that would erase those hateful words. But not even Charter magic could fix all of life's problems.

Nicholas looked down at his feet, pushing his fair hair up and away. It fell right back to where it had been, but he didn't notice. He never did; playing with his hair was a nervous habit, Sameth had realised years ago. He tugged absently on a forelock as his eyes darted to the tree in which the mysterious object had vanished.

"So, what are you working on? I didn't think you were into crafting."

"No," Nick laughed. Both were consciously avoiding the elephant in the room. "That's always been your thing, hasn't it? Do you remember the time you tried to make my typewriter change colour as I typed?"

Sameth remembered with great amusement and undying embarrassment. Magic was weak beyond the the Wall, and non-existent further south; the spell had failed halfway through with a change in wind direction, and their room had been covered in rainbow ink for weeks. Nick had cursed and pummelled him before keeling over with laughter at their appearance. "We were called the twin clowns for the rest of the year," he snorted.

Looking at him now, grinning like he had back then, the memories of their friendship warming him, Sameth realised that wishing for things to change would never work.

If Nicholas confessed his love for Lirael? Sameth would still not stop wanting him. His creative, inventive, outlandish best friend had stolen his heart long ago, and nothing could change that fact. The remnants of his smile disintegrated.

Nicholas, sensing the change in mood, looked warily at him, as though fearing what would come next. Sameth took a deep breath.

Nicholas held his hands up. "Wait. Please wait."

"No-"

"Please, Sameth. Just wait. I know you're angry at me, and busy with your own worries and responsibilities, but please, for my sake, listen to me."

Sameth had to confess the truth, he knew, to make it clear to Nick that they could no longer be friends. That he could no longer see him as only a friend. This was the best thing he could do. Apologise, confess, and part ways. But, ever the fool in love, he conceded.

"It's almost ready. I was just putting the final touches to it when you came." Nick looked sheepish. "I was supposed to send it to you later, so this may be slightly- actually, it will be completely humiliating and I will be utterly mortified." He walked over to the tree and whistled softly, holding a hand up to the branches. Something shifted and moved down, and Nicholas quickly grabbed whatever it was.

He placed the object in the grass and picked up the paper with the marks, whispering in deep concentration for a minute. Marks appeared with increasing frequency, burning gold as they surrounded the object on the ground. Sameth could see marks of recording and movement, of sound and...harmony? The sequence looked more and more familiar the longer he studied it.

The golden glow grew brighter still as Nicholas called upon a master Charter mark to bind the others together, dropping the paper to dedicate his full attention to the task. Sam noted the strained concentration on Nick's face with growing concern; although the marks were fairly safe and only moderately powerful, this was advanced magic for someone who, mere months ago, could not control a single simple Charter mark.

Then, with one last pulse, the light died down. Nicholas blinked rapidly and swayed on his feet. Sameth rushed to steady him, but he exhaled and shook his head, bending down to retrieve the object

"Please, just look." Nicholas uncurled his fingers.

Nestled in his palms was a small bird, its head tucked under one wing. But this was no ordinary bird; it was made of wood and Charter magic, marks chasing each other across the surface, before settling into the wood and disappearing from sight. The figure was rudimentary, inexpertly but lovingly crafted. It lacked the detail of a professional's hand, but the work that had been put into it was evident, and Sameth finally understood why it was all so familiar.

"That's my bird!" He cried. The bird he'd carved years ago when he was still an amateur, planning to gift it to Nick on his birthday when he returned to Ancelstierre. But the project had failed his expectations, and he'd arrived at school with disappointment and an inanimate block of wood. Nicholas had encouraged him not to dwell on the bird, and eventually Sameth forgot about it and the associated frustration.

Nicholas whistled. The bird shivered, removing its head from under the wing. It blinked, large, liquid black eyes regarding the two of them with curiosity, before bursting upwards with a sudden, powerful movement. Too sudden, too powerful, it turned out; the force of its flight stripped the cherry tree of some of its blossoms, and the startled flight of the real songbirds helped dislodge even more. It flitted around the room, exercising its wooden wings, the creaking audible above the startled chirping of the disturbed creatures, blossoms swirling high above them, caught drifting in the Charter-infused atmosphere.

Nicholas cursed. "It's not meant to do that. At least, I think it isn't." He glanced at Sam. "Is it?"

Sameth shook his head. That had been the problem with the bird- it had been an attempt to create an artificial messenger bird, like the spelled messenger hawks Nicholas had expressed interest in. But Sam could never perfect its movements, or carve the features to make it more bird-like, more realistic. His need for perfection, his wish to give Nicholas something truly remarkable, had failed. Especially when he'd realised Nicholas wouldn't be able to use it far beyond the Wall.

Finally, the bird came to perch on one of the branches near them. It shivered, opened its beak, and Nicholas's voice came out.

"Sameth, this message is long overdue. We've been friends for over a decade, you and me. And never once have I thanked you. Thanked you for being by my side, for listening to my madman's ravings and outlandish ideas- yes, I know what the people think about me. Never have I thanked you for caring so much, for telling me no when I needed to hear it, and for encouraging me when I needed it the most. You have been the best friend a man can ask for. Thank you for being there for me.

"But the one thing you've never been able to do is see just how brilliant you really are. You are constantly trying to bring out the best in others, but you never believe your best is enough. It takes time to get something right- don't give up on the first go. You are a vital, irreplaceable part of countless people's lives. And to prove how much I mean that, behold the performance of a lifetime!"

At this point, Nicholas groaned, covered his face and turned away.

For a moment, the bird was quiet. Then, Nicholas's voice sounded again, humming a very familiar tune. He began to sing.

It was their school song, as it had been for generations. But Nicholas crooned through the whole thing, a quiet, gentle performance unlike their robust belting in Somersby. It transformed the song, turning it from a schoolyard cacophony into a sweet lullaby. Nicholas had transformed the song into something else entirely, something otherworldly. Sameth was enraptured. As the final syllable faded away he blinked rapidly, speechless.

The bird closed its beak and shuffled on the branch. Nicholas slowly lowered his hands, eyes averted from Sameth. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the bird began singing again. Except, this time, it wasn't Nick's voice; the pure, high notes were its own rendition, devoid of words, copying the melody of the song.

The other living songbirds picked up the melody and joined the wooden creation, harmonious and achingly beautiful, until the chamber was filled with the wordless, enchanting melody.

"Didn't expect that to happen," Nicholas murmured. "Seems your project was more complex than I remember."

There are moments in life where one can feel the turning of the wheel of time, the rise of something epochal, historic, life-changing. Some run from these moments, fearing the change to come. Others stand and watch the dawn of a new day, not caring if the light burns them to ash. Sameth watched.

"You threw away your bird and spellwork, but I kept them," Nick remarked quietly. "I know you saw that project as a failure, when it was just another lesson to be learnt. You never did give yourself enough credit."

Sameth stared at him, could not stop staring as the chirping died down. Silence filled the space again.

"I love you," he whispered. Then, stronger. "I love you, Nicholas Sayre."

Nicholas stopped shifting about. The colour drained from his face until he looked ready to collapse.

Sameth moved closer. Nick didn't react when he clasped his hands. "I have loved you for so long, but refused to accept it. I love you with all my heart. You make me so happy it hurts, and the notion of losing you makes me feel like I'll shatter into a million pieces. I cannot imagine a life without you."

Nick remained expressionless, as though oblivious to what was happening. Then he opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it. Looked away, his jaw tightening.

"What I said last time... I didn't want to believe the truth glaring at me. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same, that you'd never want to speak to me again."

He sank to his knees, resting his forehead against Nick's belly, feeling the warmth radiating from him. "I thought I'd lose my best friend along with the love of my life. But, after all this," Sam urged softly. "After the bird, the song, the message, can't you say you feel the same?" He knew, as he looked up, that every ounce of his love was visible. Sameth was completely vulnerable. But whatever came next, he was also ready for it.

Nicholas glared down at him. He disentangled their hands, pulled him up by the scruff of his neck, and punched him across the jaw.

Before Sam could do anything beyond grunt, Nicholas grabbed him and crushed their lips together, a jarring, abrupt union, only pulling away when he thought his message had been fully received. He held on tightly, as though afraid to let go.

"You goddamn idiot," Nick breathed. "You damn...fool. I have loved you forever. As a friend...and more. There was never a moment where I didn't feel like you were my other half. All this time, and you said nothing? What were you thinking?" He kissed Sam again. This time, it was soft, gentle. A sweet, almost innocent kiss.

It was Sam who pulled away this time. "You never said anything either! You make me believe you're infatuated with my aunt, and then disappear from sight for a whole month. What was I supposed to think?"

"The problem is that you think too much," Nick muttered, pressing their foreheads together. Their Charter marks flared, warm, comforting. "We both do. If we'd learned to listen to our hearts it wouldn't have been so damned hard to get here. But... I guess there are some lessons you have to learn the hard way."

Sameth paused. He couldn't help but laugh at such a profound statement coming from his best friend. Nick joined in. It was the laughter of joy, release. There was no more pain, no more subterfuge and hidden feeling, and they kissed again, because there was nothing left to say.

As they became more and more lost in each other, the forgotten cherry blossoms floated down around them, blanketing the chamber and the two lovers, together at last.