Master Prompt
Everyone in their life experiences a point where someone or something is in their way, underestimating them, judging them unfairly, holding them back. Whatever form it takes, it leaves a lasting impression, and even after massive achievements, these kinds of things can still linger at the back of a person's mind. Who has wronged your character in the past? Who does your character most feel they still have something to prove to, if only to rub their successes in this person's face?
RP your character looking back on the successes and pains of their life to date, considering their relationships in full and what they need to do to move on from their past regrets or - if appropriate - exact a little much-deserved revenge. Do you go seeking an encounter out? Or perhaps your character simply runs into this person who has never valued or judged them adequately - how do you cope, and what helps your character to move on from the injustices of their younger years to the poise and power befitting of a true master of their art?
Are You My Mother?
Master.
The thought seemed strange still, even now, after having contemplated the trip, planning it, arranging for it and so forth for a period of quite some time, overall. Lithian knew on some level that he
did qualify for the rank and title. Despite his and Casseth’s comparatively ‘young’ ages, they had faced trials some never would in their lifetime. Of course, their trials paled in comparison to those of many others, but in the end, they had still shaped them over the years, growing them and honing their skills in various ways. But it did not make the high name feel any more solidly appropriate. Lithian still felt that he had much to learn yet.
These thoughts and others swam through his mind in the immediate aftermath of his and Casseth’s meeting with Lord Ysaride. It was a wonder to him still, on some level, that he had even managed to attain special permissions to have his mate permitted into the Celestial Plane to begin with. Despite his show of determination and confidence in his assertions to Casseth himself, he
hadn’t been entirely sure the request would go through. Far from it.
But then, he supposed, under some highly unusual circumstances, there was the rare hybrid that was granted permanent access to the Plane — as, he heard, was the case with Casseth’s mother — as well as temporary grants to child-hybrids with pureblood dovaa parents, as with Ataya and Akara and others. These thoughts had given him hope in the first place, and in light of them, perhaps it wasn’t so strange that Ysaride agreed to meet with one of Casseth’s new rank.
Lithian shook his head and turned his thoughts to other things. There was much yet to do in the day, after all.
After making it out of the Celestial Fortress and through the city proper, he and Casseth ate their midday meal and spent another brief stretch of time together before Lithian deemed it high time he get on with the next portion of his promised duties on the Plane: going to see his father. After a passing conversation with Casseth on the subject — where the fact that Lithian’s mother would also, likely, be present — Casseth quickly answered the unspoken question between them and suggested that Lithian go on ahead while he stayed behind. Extra trouble was not necessary at this stage, and though it was never openly said between them, both knew that a cross between Casseth and Lithian’s mother was unlikely to go smoothly at best.
So, however reluctantly, Lithian conceded, brushing his lips over Cas’ cheek before heading on his own way, back along the outskirts of the city and down the familiar path towards the Bhardvaris estate.
It was late afternoon as he approached the gates, the air crisp and comfortable as it ever seemed to be. His home, as ever, looked unchanged, as though time had caught it in an unmoving droplet and frozen it there: grass bright green, pebbled walk smooth and even, blossoms blooming and the familiar architecture of his home in perfect condition. Or rather, what once was his home.
An unfamiliar face working in the gardens spotted him and stilled, approaching a moment later. “Can I help you, Sir…?” The servant let the question hang open, leaving room for a name or title and holding out the pause in clear anticipation of it.
“Fedele,” Lithian said. “Lithian Fedele. I am here for Nevhin Bhardvaris.”
The servant must have been new indeed — that, or his name was not spoken of — because she did not blink, only dipped her head in a curt nod, if slightly uncertain, and promised to fetch him before heading off down the path. Lithian walked idly through the garden as he waited, straying slightly off the path when he reached the small, artificial brook that wound its way through and around the estate garden.
It looked so much smaller, now, than it had to him as a child. Standing at the edge and watching the light of evening glimmer white over the surface, he debated — but did not get the opportunity to make a choice before a voice interrupted him.
“Forgive me, but I was not expecting company.”
Lithian started, attention jerking around to land on the source of the voice, and mouth opening on instinct. ‘
Mother—’ But then, no, that wasn’t correct. He hesitated, a slight pinch furrowing his brow. “My apologies, Lady Bhardvaris…I am here to see my father.”
His mother’s gaze narrowed, but he spoke again before her.
“Last we saw each other, he requested that I stop through when next I was on the Plane. I did not mean to waste your time.”
“Lithian,” his mother quipped.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You were never a stubborn boy, Lithian.”
“Never so stubborn as you might have hoped.”
“Do not pin this on me. Of all things, why
now do you choose—”
“Because I have something
worth standing beside—”
“Don’t be a fool, Lithian.”
“I never have been.”
“There are
reasons for things being as they are.
Centuries of history—”
“You preached peace when I was a child,” Lithian murmured, frowning. “It was something you left your life as a soldier for, something you advocated for, fiercely.”
“There is a
difference,” his mother snapped, “between making peace with one’s enemies and casting aside all order created by the gods for selfish, individual whims experimental of fancy—”
“Casseth is my mate, as much as you and my father are. We were mated before a priest of Abronaxus in the company of friends and family on the shore beside the house we have lived in now for several years and share together.
That is not changing…”
“You cannot compare it to the relationship your father and I—”
“I can compare it to any relationship wherein there is love, trust, and companionship as I would hope there is in
every mated pair, though sadly that is not the case, which I would suppose puts Casseth and I in a more fortunate place than many…what more do you want from me?”
“I want a
life for you,” his mother snapped.
“And I
have one! Where I am happy and loved, by all those who matter but you it seems—”
“Don’t you
dare…say that.” Her shoulders were stiff, jaw tight and hands at her sides. “You
know I love you.”
Lithian frowned, eyeing her. “Do you know that sometimes you force me to wonder…?”
“Lithian…” His mother shook his head. “
You chose this—”
“I fell in love.”
“I want what is
best for you!”
“I
have everything that I want—”
“You shame and endanger yourself—”
“I am unashamed and safer with Casseth than anywhere else—”
“You
know that to be a lie,” his mother growled. “Even if everything you state is so in your own mind, you
know that is a lie. You become a target by sharing the spaces he does. You become a target by speaking with him, by
looking at him. You are a pureblood born of Abronaxus’ blood, and you are affiliating with something the gods never intended—”
“Then, if they are as powerful as we allege them to be, why did they allow him to come to be?” Lithian countered. “Would it not have been simplest just to design their individual creatures so that their parts did not fit togeth—”
“Do not be crude. Hybrids are a fact of our world, just as death, disease, agony, and betrayal are facts of our world. The gods allow for us to make mistakes so that we learn, and hybrids are just that: living mistakes. And you endanger yourself every moment you spend near to one…”
“Then, I suppose,” Lithian conceded, frowning, “I will be living a very dangerous life, won’t I?”
“Foolish boy—”
“I am grown. I am making my own choices, and I am choosing who to spend my life with and where. Casseth is a permanent part of my life…and if you would like to be also, that is a fact you will need to contend with in time…” Lithian hesitated, lashes flicking low — not quite daring to watch his mother’s train of expressions, despite the determination in his voice. “I hope…and will pray to our god that one day you will.”
“Lithian—”
“Pardon me, Lady Bhardvaris,” he murmured, moving to step past her, “but I came here to speak with my father.” He felt the tremor in the earth. A raw, subtle ripple of excess power, billowing out from her like the wake of a raindrop on a still lake. But nothing became of it, and when he moved past her, giving her his back, she did not stop his retreat.
Word Count: 1,502
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