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 Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:40 am
Journal,
I worry about how I get myself into these things. It always starts out innocently enough, does it not? And now, here I am. With a jar. One might ask how I keep up with my duties to the Autumn Guard. One might ask why the lady does not scold me. However, I do what I can.
So, a scientist of sorts, a man who called himself Shy, gifted me with this after I agreed to take part in the project. I have gifted it in turn with a minor object, an ankh, nothing magical. Symbolic still, of eternal life, which seems appropriate. Also common enough with those of the gothic crowd, I have discovered. I wonder if they see the irony. I am, of yet, unaware of how this will effect the experiment. The purpose is, supposedly, a living being.
I am willing enough to trust in such a claim, having been witness to stranger yet happenings. This Gaia place in which I find myself, this place is different. However, one does what one can. I do believe I could care for a being, if I should need to. I have brought enough gryphon cubs and young children with me on my travels. The Autumn Guard takes all kinds.
How long will my travels keep me here? The guardian of a jar for now, and who knows what else might come to me in this place. There are times when I miss the guard, the trumpets roar, the wild restless beauty of it. I miss the clear voice of the Lady, she but whispers to me in this place. Still. I go where I am bidden. This place, this duty, is as good as any.
Now, a bit of meditation I think. I will study the jar and the ankh further in the morning. Of yet, nothing has happened.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:41 am
The meditation room, down the hall from the living room, was quiet, the walls thick, the air scented lightly with cinammon. Bowing before the statue of the Lady, Kniene settled in to let the silence fill him. He could hear, almost hear, the distant whispers of a voice, soothing promises leading him further into peace. The lady could reach him here, when she chose, but she rarely made the effort. She would call him back, when she needed him.
The hours were minutes, but they always were, and Kniene left the room, feeling refreshed but missing the Guard more than ever. His apartment was dark, and reaching for the nearest lightswitch, he noticed the glow in the living room. An almost khaki coloured light, and he approached his own mantle place cautiously, moving with silence he'd learned from too many years of being hunted. The Guard had not always been welcomed.
It was the Jar. It was glowing, only mildly, a soft gold-gray light. It seemed to move as he watched it, swirling like a storm contained. Curious, but careful, he lifted it, shaking it gently and having no effect on the mass within. The ankh was gone, replaced by the glowing mass. Slowly, he tipped the jar, still getting no reaction. Whatever was in there wasn't coming out, and he wasn't about to poke his fingers in.
"So it seems you've come to play, my friend. I assure you you'll find welcome in this place, should you awaken further. I will await you, but for now I need rest."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:42 am
Morning, and Kniene again went about his devotions. Being the messanger of the Lady was not a slack job. How could he not take the touch of his Lady seriously? The Autumn Guard, his distant allies, flashed through his mind as he meditated, he saw the proud dragons, the elegant elves. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes, and he cried without shame, missing them. This place. This strange, wild beautiful place. It wasn't his. But nevermind.
Walking into the living room, he found himself walking immediatly to the swirling mass in the glass jar. It hadn't changed during the night, it still danced, sand and wind and desert implications. He stared into it, as one would into a flame, facinated by the endless movement. Fingers touched the edge of the glass, searching for warmth and finding none. So, silence. Him, and a jar. Was this to be his life now? And for how long?
"There is nothing quite like a dragon in flight." He whispered to the jar, voice like honey brandy, heat and sweetness. "And should you ever find yourself on the back of one- well, it is not an event to foget. So much wildness, so much freedom and danger. The smoothness of scales and heat of the dragon, the roar of the wind. It's as close to the Lady's touch as I've come without her presince. I think she will like you, should you ever come to show yourself. A great thing my Lady of the Autumn. I will show you things friend. Or try to."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:44 am
The sky was threatening a storm, rumbling distant thunder and showing the night in bright cracks of lightning. Kniene, the hood of his cloak pulled up against the cold, made his way toward his apartment as quickly as possible. The velvet of his cloak wasn't water proof, and he really didn't have the funds to have one made in this world. Besides which, there were certain magics in the glyph like patterns that glittered in deep red over the brown of the cloak. The cloak had been a gift of great sentiment, and that perhaps, meant more than the magic within.
Dorothe the russet gryphon that had so often walked beside him at the head of the guard. He had walked with such pride, the beauty of his painted feathers catching the attention of the curious local children. His animal appearance, combined with extreme intelligence, had been a great boon when dealing with the little ones. So many, having learned to fear adults, would tell Dorothe their secrets. It had been a simple enough thing, to lure them away. To show them bright sights and better things. Not all the Guard had Kniene's soft spot for children, but enough that they had earned a reputation of child theifs. And they were, when the theft was needed.
He pushed open the door to his apartment, still stuck in the nostalgia of things far distant. So lost, that he stumbled half way through the living room before he realized it was dark. The living room had not been dark since he agreed to take part in the project, received the vase that would become a living being. Supposedly.
But the pale sandy glow was gone, and Kniene had to fumble for a light switch. What had happened? Had he failed as a caretaker of a vase? The light showed broken glass, shining razor edged diamonds, scattered across the mantle place. Near the center, where the vase had been, was a tiny pile of sand, no longer glowing. He would have to speak to the man who'd given him this task, admit failure.
A small sound, rustling by the curtains. Kniene didn't own any pets. The rustling again, and a small child was peaking out at him, with the bright yellow eyes of a snake or a dragon. He held the ankh possesively, challenging, and made not the slightest sound.
Moving with the care one did with a wounded animal, Kniene knelt. "Well met, young one. Are you the being that I welcomed with my gift?"
No answer, but there was eerie intelligence behind those eyes. Kniene suspected he understood, and only chose not to respond.
"Shall I take silence as agreement, a yes?"
No answer.
"Well, yes it is then. I believe we should find you some food, and arrange a place for you to sleep." His voice had the goddess in it, it had charmed more skitish creatures than the child.
Without answering, the brunette moved toward him, his stride not cautious, but arrogant. He moved like he owned the house.
"Little prince, is it? Tiny king. Sethos, we shall call you, for the royal blood you think you carry."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:45 am
Journal,
The jar, innocent enough in its start, has changed significantly. Actually, it's shattered into a few thousand pieces. I suppose glass was perhaps not the best choice in which to encase magic. In place of the jar, I now have a small, somber child that looks at me like more of a servent than a guardian. Well, I have played the servent of my Lady for many a year, I suppose I can serve this child as well.
I have set him up in the spare bedroom, though he hardly needs a room of his own. Still, it seems the right thing to do, allowing him his own place, his own space. He would be offended at anything else. I will need to take him out, and get him more appropriate furniture. Something with a very egyption style I think. Something he can feel at home in.
He's very attached to the ankh. I have never seen it a way from him. Though the size is excessive I think I'll put a chain on it, so he might wear it around his neck. I can only imagine that he tires of carrying it everywhere.
There was a bit of sand, with the vase. It feels important, as it was a part of it once. I have used what minor magics I have to collect every last bit of it. I'm keeping it in a glass vial for now. He may have use of it when he ages.
I do hope he deigns to speak with me soon. This place is silent, but for the whispers of my memories, and another voice would be more than welcome.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:46 am
naeodin To Sethos' Guardian, Please bring Sethos' for a checkup tomorrow afternoon, at 4.pm. An orderly will come with directions at 3.30pm. Shy from Zero Three Zero.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:47 am
It had been an exhausting few days, caring for his new charge. Shopping had been the first order of buisness, and he had decided it would be best to leave the boy at home. It was a long walk, and Sethos was small and easily exhausted. He'd come home to find the child sitting with a pair of scissors, carefully remaking the puzzle he'd left for him. Each piece that hadn't fit had been cut to do so.
He'd gotten the boy clothes in a variety of colours, nice soft fabrics that he thought would appeal to Sethos's princely tastes. Sethos had happily put on the deep gold suede pants and the matching gray-silver top. He'd ferreted away anything in yellow, silver, black, or brown, but threw the pale red shirt and the green pants back at Kniene with a look that definately meant no.
He ate sparingly, and seemed to have odd tastes. Sethos liked strong flavors, either spicy or very sweet, and Kniene had taken to adding pepper to everything he prepared. He'd also bought some cook books. His aquantance with cooking was meat prepared over an open fire, so he was unexperianced with being a gormet.
And then he recieved the letter, telling him that Sethos was do for a checkup. It made sense, he had no idea how the tiny boy worked, and caring for him would be difficult without regular help.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:48 am
The morning was a hard one. He'd had to coax Sethos out of his new black silk pjs, and into an outfit for the day. This time the young fae chose a velvet shirt in pale sandy yellow, and a pair of black suede pants. Kniene had gotten him a small cloak to match his own, in silver, and without the magic. The young fae had turned up his nose at a breakfast of boiled eggs, and Kniene had eventually given in and let him have cake. Just that once though.
The knock came at promptly 3:30, while he and Sethos were in the middle of a silent fight over the meditation room. It was the only room Kniene left locked, and Sethos was NOT happy to be kept out. Sethos didn't scream or cry, he glared, angry as death, and when he continued to be denied, walked over, grabbed a vase Kniene kept full of flowers from home, and shattered it on the ground. At the sound of the shatter, before he could react, the knocking started.
"You! Don't move." He opened the door, trying not to look frazzled. Standing in the doorway, was a tall, dark man, with startling blue eyes. His long black hair reached his shoulders, and he'd woven sparkling silver charms through the strands. Even in the dim winter sunlight, he glittered. The white lab coat failed to add an air of professionalism. Kniene was reminded of Dorothe and his glitter love.
"Hello, I'm Jason. I'm here to take you and your charge to the center." He sounded docterish enough, and Kniene tried his best to smile.
"Yes, of course." He walked over, grabbing Sethos's hand and tugging him to the door. The brunette fey had his ankh in his mouth again, sucking on it absently and staring curiously at the man. "Come young prince. We will discuss the danger of breaking things later.
The center was some distance from Kniene's place, luckily, the man had a car. Sethos was facinated, staring out the window, nose pressed to the glass. Kniene felt the same way. Though not as exciting as riding a dragon, it was strange to think there was nothing living about the car, that it was simply a dead tool. The man drove swiftly, and they had soon arrived at the white dome where Kniene had first recieved the vase that would be Sethos.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:49 am
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:50 am
Sethos was as silent as the grave on the drive home, though more restless than usual, shifting in his seat and twisting to look behind him. The young Fae had taken the whole ordeal suprisingly well, without breaking anything or refusing to obey. Suspecting that the young boy had enjoyed being around his own kind, Kniene made a note to attempt to locate other fae guardian. He surely wasn't the only one dealing with a child, and it would be nice for the boy to get some socialization. The silence of the house was bad for him, and though he never complained, Kniene suspected that he must get lonely.
"Here. Play with this." Reaching into his pocket, Kniene pulled out one of the puzzles he liked to play with when bored. Made of metel and string, the point was to remove the metal ring. They were difficult, but satisfying, and it seemed that the boy needed something to occupy him. Soon, he planned to take him out shopping with him, so he could pick out his own things.
Looking over the med report Kniene bit his lip. Some of it, he didn't even fully understand. But most was clear. Like the fact that the young Prince needed more meat in his diet. Well, that could be arranged, with a bit of effort. Cooking was still something of a mystery. The important thing was that Sethos was healthy, which meant he was caring for him properly. Having never truely raised a kid before, Kniene was discovering it was more difficult than he'd first assumed.
Sethos thrust the ring in his face, proving it had been removed. In his other hand, two halves of the string it had been connected to, roughly cut. The boy had taken the shortcut, again. It wasn't as if he was trying to cheat, as far as Kniene to tell he just always took the shortest route to the solution. And he had no idea how to teach Sethos there was a right way to do things. Especially since the child wouldn't converse.
"Very- very nice, Sethos. You did that quickly."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:52 am
Journal,
I feel that Sethos and I are finally starting to connect. It has been a hard road, full of broken pottery, but there is a softening in him that I can't help but celebrate. Mind, this doesn't mean there are fewer broken lamps, it simply means that I can be more forgiving as I clean up the results of his usual destruction.
So, why the change? I've begun to read to him. I'd tried this before, with kids stories from Cathy (and isn't it lovely to have an apartment over a book store?) but he never showed much interest, quickly bored and fidgeting.
Yesterday morning, when going through my usual waking meditation, the Lady spoke to me clearly. Still a gentle whisper compared to her full voice, but she told me she had sent a gift to make my stay here easier. I wasn't overly suprised, my Lady has always been generous with her most devout, but I was suprised to find what she had sent me. A pile of books. Old books, from my home time. Fairy tales, and moral stories, but not the bloodless clean things they read to children here.
Inspired, I read Sethos the story of Amber, a princess who wishes more than anything to know the truth of the world and is driven mad upon discovering it. The Prince was on the edge of his seat. He hung on every word, and seems to be insisting, in his silent way, that I teach him to read. His facination with the book was obvious. I've never taught before, but I hope to be capible of doing so. Today, I plan to talk to Cathy about finding more childrens books, but the old kind. Perhaps those will be more entertaining for him. I also plan to start reading him myths, since they have a simular somber tone.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:56 am
"This... Lady, Sethos, This isn't working!" Like the first rattle of a snake, the slight raise in Kniene's voice showed he was a little too close to snapping at the child. "Listen, Son, I know you want to learn to read, but I don't think I can teach you. I'm just, just not cut out for it."
Though silent, Sethos could be almost painfully easy to read. As Kniene denied him the chance, his shoulders slumped, and he refused to look at anything but his feet. Kniene had never seen Sethos cry, but the child could be subject to incredible mood swings. Usually existing at a casual, apathetic neutral, he could become furious or deeply depressed without a second's warning.
"Come, my Prince, don't play the broken hearted. Did I speak to say you couldn't learn? I only said I couldn't teach you."
Taking Sethos by the hand, and giving the boy the pile of books he'd been trying to teach him from, he led them both downstairs, and into the bookstore they lived above. It was such a welcoming place, warm, with the smell of coffe and dust hanging on the air. Used books and overstuffed chairs, gentle lighting. Cathy was standing behind the counter, the elderly woman had a plump, grandmotherly look about her, and sharp blue eyes that hinted at her extreame intellect. Kniene enjoyed her company, often coming down to discuss child rearing techniques with her.
"Cathy, are you busy?" He called out, ushering Sethos into the nearest chair. It was only the second time Sethos had been in the store, and he twisted in place, trying to look everywhere at once.
"Not especially, why?"
"Sethos desires a lesson in reading."
"Really, that's wonderful. Books open up so much of the world. And if he likes being read to so much, I can only imagine..."
Smiling at Cathy's enthusiasm, Kniene ruffled Sethos's hair, "I'm having trouble teaching him. I simply do not have the skill. So, I was wonder-"
"I'd love to!" The woman interupted, rushing out from behind the counter and squeezing Sethos's hands. The boy simply stared at her, shocked at the formality, "Trust me, Child, literature opens the world. With it, you can learn to save it, or own it."
There was a small smile from the young child, nearly invisible, but he allowed himself a slight nod of agreement. Kniene couldn't help but wonder which option had appealed to him. "I'll leave you two to play."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:57 am
The downtown area, full of shops, was bustling, and Kniene held tightly to Sethos's hand. Though his adopted fae son had certain calm about him, he'd never been in so large a crowd. The pupils of his snake like eyes had widened at all the people, and his shoulders were lined with tension. Sethos simply didn't like being around more than a few people at once.
Finding the store he'd been looking for, Kniene ducked inside, pulling Sethos with him. Inside, it was warm, dark, and smelled strongly of insense. Celtic music played softly in the background, each shelf was filled with beautiful figurines and candles. Releasing Sethos's hand, he held the boy by his shoulders and met his eye.
"I have to find a gift for Cathy. If you break anything, we can't get her a gift. No gift, no more reading lessons, understood?"
Sethos looked startled at the threat, but nodded once, briefly, to show his obediance. Usually, Kniene didn't bother with commanding the boy, but Sethos seemed to love the sound of fragile things breaking.
"All right then, go ahead and explore."
While Sethos crept around the store, Kniene headed straight to the back, where a shelf full of obscure occult titles were kept. Cathy would enjoy something of the sort, an old musty tome full of ancient wisdom. Picking up one, he flipped through the first couple pages, almost coughing at the dust. The book was illustrated, the yellowing pages filled with strange symbols. It would work nicely.
"Father. I need this." The voice was warm and rough, like desert sand, brushing over the senses and hinting at old, hidden things. Sethos hissed his S. There was no childishness in the words, no hesitation. He spoke liked he'd always been doing it.
Dropping the book he held with a loud thunk, Kniene turned sharply to look at his son, kneeling and pulling the fae child toward him, "Sethos? Did you speak?"
The brunette child nodded, holding out the item that had called up so much importance that he had actually spoken. It was a golden band, inscribed with hiroglyphics. Made to be a bracelet, it looked like it would fit perfectly on Sethos's upper arm.
"You want this?" He asked, and Sethos shook his head, still not speaking again. Considering the boys few words, Kniene rephrased his question. "You need this?"
That got a frantic nod, Kniene hugged the boy, ruffling his long hair. "Well, then you shall have it, my Prince. Certainly it fits your regal airs. Now, we must purchase these treasures, I've found the perfect book for Cathy."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:59 am
Journal,
It's been a year now, since Sethos first found his way out of his vase. The changes he's gone through, the growth, it truely stuns me. Though still quiet and disinclined to speak, he does talk. Short, to the point statements. His speech patterns seem almost more archaic than mine. I fear I have raised him in a style that does not fit the rush of Gaia, the quick pace. My methods are more suitable at home.
I think I am finally learning to be a father, and he calls me by the title. This project I involved myself in so lightly, it grips my soul now. Sethos has my heart, as my only son. My brilliant, silent child. I no longer feel so alone. The pulse of my connection with the lady has always been a comfort, but the addition of a child has made this place bearable to me. I still don't feel that this is my home. That will always be the autumn guard. But it does not hurt me so much to be away.
I wonder what they would say of him? Welcome him, no doubt, with open arms. They have never rejected the strange ones. I worry that others will. He is not the sort for easy friendships, that much is true. He has his books, me, Cathy, and other than liking the occasional walk, he seems to have no interest in the world outside the door. Still, he is young yet, though he grows quickly. Tomorrow, he has an appointment with Shy. Sometimes, he actually seems to look forward to those.
On a milder note, I have recently discovered a new 'pet'. The thing was left at our doorstep, and Sethos brought it inside. I have named the strange, living blue ball Alexandria. Sethos seems to enjoy it, though I worry he is too rough with the creature.
Kniene
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 10:00 am
The lights in the room were dimmed, sweet, warm silence embracing him. Father was in the other room, speaking with his Lady, and who knew where Alexandria was. She was always disappearing.
The dark felt good. The day had been long, and while Sethos loved the feeling of sun on his skin, he always felt more awake at night. Sunlight gave him that drowsy, distant feeling, like he could float away. Now, bathed in the softer glow of the moon, he was fully aware.
He held his vial of sand in one hand, focusing quietly on it. There was a soft warmth there. Not forceful, just wakeful under his attention. What was he doing? What could he do? There was, perhaps, some difficulty to the protection of speech, his endless questions had to be answered from within. Everything had gone back to normal, time flowing backward. But only for the vase, the flowers. Not for the girl or the others.
So, was it localized? Could he rewind objects? How far back? Could he make a tree a seed, or a desk a tree? A grown man a babe again? Some of the possibilities seemed rather dangerous.
In front of him sat one of his father's books, a page ripped roughly from it. This was the test then. Pulling out the stopper, he let the sand flow out into his hand. The warmth stayed, and the sand did not settle lightly, but moved with gentle awareness.
Staring at the book, he tried to sink into the sand, to get that exhaulted feeling of right back. Nothing came. Only comforting warmth, and the light scratch of sand on skin. The feeling wouldn't come. The sand wouldn't listen. Sethos held his ankh in his free hand, closing his eyes this time, trying to call up the feeling.
Nothing.
Well, he was new yet. It would come. It would come if he had to try all night.
Four hours later, the book was whole again.
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