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 Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:22 pm
Gentle blue light filled the room, lengthening shadows and making everything feel closer. Carefully cutting out another snowflake, Kniene stole a glance at his son, the boy sitting intently, cutting ankh patterns into his own piece of paper. Their christmas tree certainly didn't look like the sort in the pictures.
Well, the lights were right, and there were certainly enough presents under the tree, waiting to be opened in the morning, along with the strange box that Kniene had hesitantly labeled 'Alex'. But the other decorations were a bit more unique. It had taken quite a bit of prayer, and no small bit of his own sort of magic, but Kniene had managed to conjure up a box full of the sort of silver and gold charms that Sethos was always sketching. They would fade in a few days, but they wouldn't need the tree long.
The tree looked like a letter written in hiroglphics by an insane scribe. Feathers, ankhs, strangely formed birds, they caught the blue light, spinning and dancing. He had let his son place them, the boy had strong feelings about what went were, slapping his hand away when he tried to interfere. So Kniene had made hot chocolate, and now the two of them sat, sipping the warm drink, studying the tree and cutting out snowflakes.
Sethos had his ankh in his mouth, absentmindly chewing on it while he worked on getting his cuts just so. Kniene, taking cues from him, was cutting leaf patterns into his paper, thinking about the Lady, and feeling the old burn. Oh, there was beauty here, but to hear the trumpets again... to sing the old songs.
Standing without grace, Sethos picked up the roll of tape, pacing the room until he found the spot that was 'just right'. Kniene followed him drowsily, taking the tape in turn and hanging his 'snowflake' in a likely looking spot. They had the room covered in them. And they'd used the last of the paper.
Humming a snatch of Hymn of Colour, Kniene sat back by the fire, studying the flames and remembering the dance.
"Father?" There was a light pressure on his shoulder, and Kniene found himself staring up into the Fae boy's strange eyes. Ever serious eyes, with little laughter. It was so rare that Sethos spoke. Usually, it meant he wanted something.
"Yes, Sethos?"
The fae boy knelt before answering, his gaze steady.
"I love you."
The tears came immediately, pricking at the corner of his eyes as Kniene felt the hold his son had of his heart. So much depth in those eyes, and nothing but honesty. Reaching out, he pulled the boy down into his arms, burying his face in his son's brown hair.
"I love you too, Son."
So this was Christmas.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:23 pm
Message Sethos, Your lessons will commence with the both of us starting from the following week. They will happen in place of your medical evaluations, so just arrive at the same time, and all will be well. What we will first teach you, will be control. As a child your gift will come and go with your moods, but hopefully before you enter teenhood, you will be able to summon it at your will. This will involve a range of exercises that have been adapted to suit your needs, such as meditation, or fighting, anything that particularly appeals to you. At the same time, we will also teach you of the history of our race, the Sidhe. Both the Unseelie and Seelie courts will be noted in detail, from the major wars to the more common timeline as to why we died out. During this period should you remember anything from your past life, we will also help in your discovery. Childhood lessons will also be spent with a wide range of other skills. Keep up with your lessons outside the lab, but keep in mind some aspects of science history, and the arts will be undertaken by your tutors because of the relevance to the Sidhe world. There will be no exams, no tests, not until you reach teenhood, so please try to understand the fundamentals first. It is imperative that you have a strong grasp before entering teenhood, because things will get much harder. Regards, Tanya and Skill
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:24 pm
"Sethos, patience!" Kniene was worn out. Christmas, for all excitement, had drained him, and he still had sleep to catch up on. Between Sethos breaking everything in the house to 'test' his powers, and Alex's constant midnight energy, he felt like he might just fade out. So this was what it felt like to have children.
It didn't help that Sethos was so obviously frusterated with his inability to make proper use of his powers. They faded in and out, sometimes acting up accidently sometimes having no effect at all. This morning, a sudden flare had turned his eggs from well done to back in their shells. Kniene had made a second batch, and spent an hour reassuring the boy that he would get it right soon. That's what lessons were for, right?
"You forgot your cloak, Prince." Kniene slipped the heavy silver velvet over Sethos's shoulders, ruffling his hair, then pulling up the hood. "I don't wish to see you freeze."
Closing the clasp of his own cloak, he studied his son affectionatly, noting the slightly defeated slouch to his little princes shoulders. Hopefully, the lessons would bring his confidence back.
"It seems you have reached the age where much training is in order. It's about time I began you on weapons training."
That perked him up a bit, his back straightening. And it was about the right age. Sethos needed to know how to defend himself. The Guard had taught Kniene that.
Grinning, he ushered the boy out of the door and into the car. They sat, as ever, in silence. Sethos staring moodily out the window, Kniene occupied by Alex's antics. The building couldn't come soon enough.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:26 pm
First Lesson lithle Sethos was anxious, shifting in his seat, incapible of keeping his attention on the view. Why did the lab seem so far away today? He needed to be there! He needed to learn. This confusion, this inept fumbling had to stop. He wanted to know everything, immediatly, Skill and Tanya would help him with that. Finally, finally, the car came to a stop outside the lab. He was out the door before his father had even taken off his seatbelt. Only ingrained politeness allowed him to wait restlessly for the man to catch up.
"They aren't going anywhere, Sethos."But his father couldn't understand. The man was patience itself. Sethos burned inside, with desire and confusion. He needed to know. They walked to the door together, his father looking amused at his hurried pace. They needed to hurry. At the door, an attendant was waiting as ever. Sethos nodded, greeting him politely, wishing it could have been his teachers at the door. But at least he was nearly there. "Sethos is here for his lessons."naeodin "Skill, sit still. You're like a child." Her voice whipped through the room, and like backlash Skill turned to her, a scowl evident in his features. "He's been left to us, Tanya. How can you sit there, looking so calm when I'm..." he looked at his hands, and there was joy, excitement, apprehension in his face. "We are hardly capable of teaching a child--" "Sethos is a child, Skill. We can't go too wrong." Her tone was almost flippant. Almost, because she was still young enough to be nervous inside as well. "Sethos is here for his lesson." an attendant walked into the room, a different room from normal and immediatly both snapped into attention. Tanya with her languid form, Skill more crisp than freshly folded paper. The room was large, domed and silent. Voices could echo in here, but only if you were unreasonably loud and both fae had confidence that Sethos would not cause so much trouble. It was an unnaturla room, light spilling in from a domed ceiling and high bookshelves lining every corner, like a section of a library bought into Shy's lab. It was a room Skill particularly enjoyed, and it had taken little convincing for Tanya to agree this was the best place for their lessons. "Sethos." the slight hiss to her words was accentuated by the fact that she was so still. It must be the reptile genes, because she hardly seemed to move more than necessary. "Welcome." Skill smiled. It was a tight, fierce smile. "You've practiced." It was a statement, because both have met Sethos enough times, had been in charge of his medical charts for long enough to understand that little bit more about their silent Prince. lithle Nodding a quick farewell to the attendent, Sethos walked through the door, glad to have finally found his way to lessons. Despite feeling anxious, he forced himself to pause in the doorway, taking in the huge domed room. He noted, with pleasure, the bookcases that lined the walls, wondering what deep hidden knowledge they might contain. His fingers itched to leaf through the pages, to discover, but now was not the time. He turned his attention to his teachers next, Skill and Tanya awaited him within. Entering the room carefully, he bowed deeply to both his teachers, in the graceful way his father had taught him. Though not particularly graceful on average, practice had made that one movement skilled. Straightening, he studied his teachers, Tanya's calm, Skill's tense control. And how was he? Somewhere in between, he though. Meditation lessons with his father had taught him something of stillness, but he often felt that there was too much inside him, waiting to burst out. It made him restless and impatient, occasionally even angry. There were whole parts of him that he couldn't seem to access yet, and that frustration of desire felt like drowning. At Skill's words, he touched the vial of sand he still wore around his neck, nodding a positive response to the statement. Here, in lessons, it seemed he might need to speak more than he liked. But what help was there for it. There were things he needed to know, and things they needed to understand. He would not be verbose, but communication was unavoidable. "I have had little success, m'lord." naeodin The smile Tanya had deepened. She liked the formality, the professionalism. It made what she had to teach, what she had to give away seem more important. Sometimes (although she would never admit to it) she was a little bit disgusted with the way Xang and Ferroc were so warm towards Ritsuki. They were supposed to be mentors, teachers! Mighty fae, not... family. Or friends. How could you discipline someone when you were their friend? "That is good, Sethos." she said smoothly. She turned a glance to Skill, and mildly arched her brows. "Control is always very important, remember that. I will teach you about control." Was there a little emphasis placed on "I"? Probably. "She" Skill was a little it irritated that Tanya was trying to dominate the situation. But he wouldn't let it show. It wasn't good to show discord in front of your student- both fae shared the same mindset in many aspects. "Will teach you about control, about focusing on your skill. We know you learn certain aspects already at home, but they don't know how to tap into your magic, into your blood. Its..." he hesitated. He was speaking for so long! "Something you can't explain, but you can show." "You will need to practice, little Prince." Tanya hissed. "I will teach you everything you need to know about reaching your magic, and Skill will teach you how to work it. Time and memory can be the same thing." Well. That was enough talking out of her. It was ironic. The dealer of speeches hated speaking. "Do you questions, Sethos?" Skilled asked finally. Both rolled easily into the part of teachers, but that didn't mean they knew how to speak for a long time. "Lessons such as History will be held back for a while, but I'll give you books to read, to start you off." lithle Sethos nodded at the mention of books. Yes, history. He understood about history, how the past echoed into the present, how everything tied together. The books would be good, and he would study as asked. With gratitude. His serpant gaze went from Tanya to Skill and back again. Control, and specifics. Both important, he stood to learn much. This then, was a careful thing. He must be respectful, and obediant, or he stood to lose. Sethos did not like obediance, not really. He was, after all, as his father called him. Prince. But he knew his history. Untaught princes fell. Arrogant rulers were destroyed. This was a place of power to be, of gaining and learning. He would find himself here, if he was careful. There was a long hesitation before he spoke, letting the questions run through him. Trying to pick the right one. No use wasting words on unformed desires. Sethos was not the sort to hesitate, to fill space with 'umm' or 'uhh'. "Two. How do I gain control? My power does not act predictably. M'lady, I hope for your help there. Second, M'lord, there are echoes in me, of sand and glory. How do I further access my memories?" It was perhaps the most he'd ever said, but needed. Here, he must make new rules. Here, he must learn. naeodin Both Tanya and Skill exchanged glances of mild surprise at his second question. They were all of similar descent, speaking of deserts and sand, of powering empries built of sun and gold. "Memories, are elusive things." Skill started. "I control what you remember, what you forget. I sharpen the images too far for your mind to hold completely, or fade those that are... excessive. To tap into memories from another life time though, is difficult. It comes naturally in stages. Images, sounds, environments, and then the people, and yourself. Even we" they exchanged another glance. "Have not completely regained our memories..." But Skill knew, almost better than Tanya that Sethos was special. That he would probably remember almost everything by the time he was in his teens. It was a discomforting, scary thought for it required so much control, so much acceptance. "I can help you, if you want." Skill said. "I can make it easier for the memories you already have to remain focused, to allow the access during your subconcious to become easier. Not all of these memories are good, Sethos." he said. He should know. Tanya, deciding that this was enough placed a hand on Skill's arm, and he turned to her, nodding. "Prince." she said, signalling that the conversation was going to be drawn to a close. "The reason your power does not behave perdictibly may be because you have reached it's limits." she almost smiled. "You cannot expect a child to read Shakespeare, and like that, you may be asking for too much." she stared at the sand around his neck. Before she could help herself, she found herself asking. "Why do you trap those that can aid you? It is like a bird unable to fly" Skill looked at Tanya sharply. "Tanya." he said. lithle Sethos touched the vial lightly. It had become such a part of him. His father had hung it around his neck after his first doctor's appointment, commanding that he not remove it, under any circumstance. He had felt the concern there, the importance, and obeyed. His fingers traced the form of it, stopping at the cork that kept it closed, not opening it, but holding it as if he might. His teacher was asking a question, something rarely done toward him. They knew he would only answer those of importance. Which meant that the question must be of importance. Why keep it closed? It had helped him, each time he'd managed to make the magic work, though the few times he'd done it by accident the sand had simply burned against his chest. So, why? Under his attention, the sand that had once been his substance grew warm, as it sometimes did. The heat was comforting, familiar, and he almost smiled. Only the seriousness of the question kept his expression neutral. "It is of me. I do not wish to lose it." naeodin Tanya and Skill exchanged glances. When they had come from their jars, nothing had remained with them and yet they a sneaking suspicion about what the sand was. It was too young perhaps, to be of great use-- but it helped Sethos, and because of that, helped the two desert fae as well. "Tanya." Skill said simply, and Tanya nodded. She reached for the vial around Sethos' neck, not touching it, not really but with her fingers hovering over, feeling the warm heat that Sethos carried around with him. And she said something. What she said, it was hard to say. She was a speaker of languages, communicating both with the truly sentient, and those who were only half. She spoke in a language too harsh for the common tongue, and then smiled. Her eyes had narrowed into mere slits of amusement, and she nodded to Skill. "It is." she confirmed. It was alive. It was breathing, growing, but it was too young to hold it's own shape... for now. "It will never leave you." she said simply, a closed, secretive smile on her features. "The day you tire of it, it will still remain." Tanya was still a teen, and she was still developing her own gifts-- which was why she looked so damn satisfied. Abruptly, she pulled her hand away, and nodded. "Control." she said. "I will teach you control." she moved around the room, collecting a large, dusty book that seemed to whisper secrets, a odd implement with a shiny round orb suspended in the middle of it, and an hourglass full of sand. "To teach you control, in the beginning we will work with a focal point. You will use it to focus your magic with it, and eventually it will move to a point where you only need to imagine the focal point to bring back the feeling of power. You will fail the first few times, and even should you exist, never grow arrogant. Your gift now, is at it's most vulnerably point. It will sulk, leave you alone should you harm it, and should you abuse it..." her eyes slid to Sethos. "We'll take care of it for you." lithle Never leave him? Well, that was a new understanding. His fingers continued to trace the cork, hesitant, concerned. But Tanya wouldn't lie, couldn't possibly be wrong. If she said the sand would stay with him, it would. It was of him. It was his. And if the trapping of it was hurting him, then it must be undone. In a quick, worried movement, he uncorked the vial, shoving the cork in his belt pouch. There, it was free. The warmth continued. So, he would leave it unfettered, and trust his substance to stay close to him. Sethos's eyes were automatically drawn to the book first, the feeling of age and power surrounding it. It was a beacon to him, and he found himself reaching toward it involuntarily, longing to leaf through the yellowed pages, to find ancient words of heavy wisdom. But control was the game of the moment. He pulled his attention away from the book, allowing himself to observe the orb, and the hourglass. Strange tools for learning about time, though the hourglass had a certain symbolic resonance. At Tanya's firm, warning words, he nodded, making no verbal response. For the lesson, he was speaking more than he liked. But that didn't mean he'd add meaningless chatter to the air. He understood what she'd said, and confirmed his understanding. What need was there for a Yes, or a No. He simply waited for the next explination. naeodin The sand seemed to whisper. It didn't leave the vial, not yet, but there was a shifting, a soft sigh as if recognizing the choice. Skill watched Tanya with narrowed eyes. He trusted this fae more than any other-- that was why they were paired together so often. But that didn't mean he was wholly comfortable with her actions. "Your gift." Tanya says. "Is of time. You cannot go back in the past or the future, but you can mend things, bring objects back to their original condition." she smiled. "Maybe this will also affect humans, living people" a fae who could control youth-- that would be a very powerful gift. "But places, actions, people, you can change it all." Tanya opened up the book to a page with an ornate picture, one of pyramids. She positioned the equipment with the ball away from Sethos, on the other side of the book and spun the ball around until... There. Light, light from the ceiling shone into the book. "Books. The Sun. Light." Tanya said, carressing every word. "Your power is to control time. Whether it is to fix the book once it is burned." for the light was powerful, and seemed too focused on the pages. "To move the object back to it's original position." there was plenty of room, and with not magnifier, the sun would not harm the object. "It is up to you. Focus on the book." for Tanya knew of his preference. "Or the sun." A child of the desert just like her and Skill. What else could be more fitting? She turned the hour glass over. Sand, pouring down a soft trickle, marking either his success or failure. lithle Sand, time, power. This was not some simple book he could rip pages from. There were no childhood lies contained within. In his soul, Sethos could hear the song of the pages, calling out to the sand covered places within him, whispering to the shadows and the light. Here was knowledge, here was learning. There were things he had to know. The book could not be allowed to burn. He would stop it. Still, he barely moved, only wrapping his fingers once again around the warm vial of sand. There were many actions offered him, some left unmentioned. He could simply move the book, reach out, and take it. He needed it, and he needed it whole. But then, the exercise would be useless, and unlike his father's silly string puzzles, this was something he needed to know. There could be no simple short cuts, if he wished to gain true power. So, the book or the burn. He could heal the book, as it burned. But that would mean focusing until the sun shifted, and he was unsure of the time it would take. He had no desire to sit for hours, willing the book to it's original state. He could move the sun. But that was far beyond fixing pots. Far beyond him. That left the magnifier. It would have to be twisted away, back to how it had been. It would hang harmless, then. He tightened his grip on the sand, letting his focus slip into it, slip into the matching places within. External becoming internal, and though the sand was a piece of him, he understood that what he had over it was not control. He could not force, only ask. Only direct. The orb, twisted as it had been before. He held the image, projected it. To the sand, to his soul. Move back, move back. Let everything twist back up the threads of time. He felt the sun on the book as if he were the quickly heating pages. Soon, he knew, he would feel the burn as well. Back, turn back. naeodin The sand moved, as if through water, floating with a laziness that didn't translate to real time. Tanya and Skill could only see the swiftness, the sudden serpentine burn of sand. To Sethos, it would be slow, almost sensual except-- well, he was still a child. Directed, answering. It wasn't hard to get the sand to do what Sethos wanted because anything he wanted, it wanted. It wasn't that the sand moved the obstacle, that it pushed. Merely it surrounded it, and with a pulse, everything seemed to move back. Not directly into the old position, but in the same manner that Tanya had fiddled with it. As if time had been centralized, narrowed down and then rewound until... The magnifier shifted back, the light harmless now and although the book was warm, except a slight paling of the font right in the center, there was no other change. It was Skill who watched, Skill who noticed everything while all Tanya cared about was that Sethos had succeeded. What else had she expected from her prince? "The book is yours." Skill said. It was a very old copy steeped in magic, some of it nullified now, but still useful. It would provide aid, something to read about. And if Skill knew Tanya, he knew it had something to do with the Eyptian history. "Exactly like that." Tanya said, smug. "Now, we'll work with other exercises. And this time, I want you to try it by yourself." The sand had slipped back into the vial, a little bit rubbed off on Sethos' cheek, like a silly little kiss. Tanya smiled. "Your sand helps you, it aids you. But soon, you will be able to do all this without the aid of the sand." she paused. "Think of the sand as an amplifier. Right now because you cannot do it by yourself, because you are crippled, it supports and allows the basics to be done... however, once you can do this alone..." her smile turned a little bit too dark. "Imagine what you can do with it's aid."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:28 pm
"Anything to eat, Sethos?" Kniene asked, opening the door to the fridge and frowning at the package of snake meat that sat waiting too be cooked. Of course, he had eaten such foods while traveling when options were scarce, but picking snake out of a fully stocked fridge seemed odd. Still, one had to listen to the doctor.
And the doctor had said that Sethos needed more reptile in his diet. Who knew how something like that came to be?
But his son shook his head mutely, watching Alex climb up his arm. Though usually silent, there was something disturbing about it today. He'd come back from the 'playdate' moody, and that mood hadn't lifted. Kniene was starting to worry that something might have happened there.
"Sethos?" Kniene walked over to the table, sitting across from his son. He didn't even look up, just kept watching Alex, who was not managing a strange little dance on his shoulder. What music Alex might be hearing in the empty room was anyone's guess. "Is anything wrong?"
Sethos reached up, taking Alexandria off his arm, and putting her in his hand. The two had become strangely close lately, a fact Kniene found suprising. He hadn't expected his son to have compassion or interest in much of anything outside himself. But Alex seemed to be an acception.
Finally those serpant's eyes lifted as his fingers stroaked his 'pet'.
"I don't think I much like people, father. They're loud and demanding." His tone was quiet, troubled, more scratchy than usual. In his hand, Alex's dancing had stopped, it now rubbed against his fingers in an attempt to soothe.
And Kniene, who had always loved people, who had celebrated life, in the joy of his lady, didn't know what to say. Pushing himself to his feet, he put his arms around the boy, nuzzling his hair.
"Hey. You'll make friends. Give it time. There's light in you son. You just need to learn how to share it."
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:29 pm
Memories
lithle Already exhausted, Sethos was only half way into his lesson. He had finished his usual practice with Tanya, gaining further and further control over his power. He had gotten to the point where he no longer needed sand, but as a result, he ended up physically drained when he did magic. The sand had cushioned that, taken the impact of power loss for him. Now the loss was his. Not that he minded. Sethos would do anything for his teachers. He had always liked them, but with training had come complete respect. And with respect came a strange sort of obedience. He thought, perhaps, one day, they would be his First Knights. But he had a long way to go before he had the power to take power. And he would take power. He had had it before. He wanted it back. Which was why the second part of his lessons was so important. Skill was teaching him meditation, a strange sort that allowed him some meager access into the dark regions of his past memories. Usually, he only got glimpses, but those glimpses only made him want more. He needed to know who he was, what had happened. And for that, he needed focus. Bowing quickly to Skill, he sat down crosslegged, and closed his eyes. He still didn't quite understand why this sort of meditation only worked around Skill. At home, when he meditated with his father, he only felt calm. Never mind. Deep, slow breaths. Time to find the hidden thoughts. naeodin Skill smiled, watching Sethos. As soon as his breathing regulated and as far as he could tell, Sethos lasped into his state of being, Skill untapped his own gift. Stepping behind Sethos with a hand hovering just over the base of his skull, he closed his eyes. It was hard to explain what happened. Tanya never understood what it was like to have such a proactive gift. As he closed his eyes, another set seemed to open, larger, stronger, more keen and sharp. They looked into Sethos' mind, and with instinct, with practice because they had done is so often before, Skill found the darkness. It was something all fae had, the shadows that they couldn't quite leave behind from their past. Sethos' was almost clear, soon the memories would come rushing back. Skill only hoped that this started with the better ones. Waiting, always waiting, Skill entering the memory, pulsing along his power the way energy runs through water, straightening any loose bits and causing extra memories to fall off. Sometimes this resulted in the memories being remembered, of entering Sethos' mind. But this time, this time it only furthered the connection into Sethos' old life. Into the soul. lithle The taste of sand and heat. Sethos could feel himself fading, falling, fragmenting. The new forgotten so that the old could reappear. It was hard to remember who he was, or where he was. All he could seem to focus on was the heat, and the gritty flavor of sand. Who was he, where was he? There were voices, he could hear them even though he couldn't yet see. Angry words, shouting. A rising emotion. Panic. Loneliness, betrayal. She had skin like the darkness, hair like moonlight. Her eyes were twin flames, and he felt he was burning up in them. He was being burnt. The knife was a thin promise of death in silver. She held it like a lover. She had been his lover. She was leaving. No. She was destroying. He couldn't move, and she was still shouting. The fierceness in the words was obvious but he couldn't understand what she said. Only her anger. Only the knife. She kissed him. He felt the gentle pressure against his lips. He couldn't move, couldn't push her away. She tasted like death. The knife came then, across his throat, and the pain was like nothing he'd ever known. Sethos came to himself, screaming. naeodin Instinctively Skill snatched his hand away, but he was rational enough to take care of pulling his gift away, making sure that none of it remained, nothing to trigger an unnatural memory within Sethos. It was fast work, but complicated and by the time he had finished Tanya was already reaching for Sethos. Neither Skill or Tanya were particularly emotional, loving fae. They weren't like Ae who would probably offer love and hugs. But the scream had been unnatural, too old for the child and Tanya held Sethos closer, closer as if somehow she could get rid of the nightmares. Because it had scared her. For a moment, it had felt as if... as if he was lost. "Sethos, tell us." she said, the world a hissed command. "Tell us what you saw." lithle He was sobbing. By the Lady, he couldn't seem to stop sobbing. Each gasping breath failed to bring air into his starving lungs. His whole body shook, and he could only just feel Tanya's closeness. He was still entranced, shocked, falling. Another shuddering attempt to breathe, the rush of air filling him. At his chest, the sand was almost painfully hot. For Sethos, it was a comfort. A reminder of the here and now. A reminder that he was Sethos now. His father was Kniene. Skill and Tanya were his teachers. She was holding him. "I-- I died." He only barely managed to get the words out between whimpers, and saying it made them real again. The pain rose back up, he could so clearly remember the look in her eyes, the feel of the knife. "I died." He repeated, after another whimper. The tears made his snake like eyes too bright, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from shaking. naeodin Had Tanya been human, she would have made the soft hushing, 'sshhussh'' sounds that woman were prone to doing. It was different, a slightly hissing, clicking sound and Tanya rocked Sethos slowly, holding him close enough that she could feel the warm glow of the sand vial. "Sethos, darling." Tanya crooned. She almost smiled, because... well, she wasn't good with emotion, with comforting and only logic seemed to work in her mind. "You didn't die." Skill was probably worse than she was, so he grabbed any opening. "Well, you might have been really hurt, but you couldn't have died. You're fae. If you'd died, then you wouldn't be here, with us. You wouldn't have been a faerie to enter the jar." Tanya rolled her eyes. Skill was definitly worse than she was. "You're okay now." she said, patting his back. "How?" Skill asked. Tanya's eyes were so venemous, that Skill winced. "What I mean is... what happened, Sethos?" this had been the first time Skill had seen his charge react so strongly, and so despite himself he was pretty intrigued about the whole thing. lithle He hadn't died. He hadn't died? But he had felt it, felt himself falling and fading. Something had happened to him there. Something worse than a simple cut on the throat. What had happened? Had he been healed at the last minute? Resurrected? Had the knife been made to do something else? But he couldn't remember, couldn't reach to before or after the vision. Only the feel of the blade against his neck. Only the feeling of being drained away. If only he could have understood what she'd said. But the language had been strange, beyond him. The question's took time to penetrate, his own thoughts too heavy to allow for the needs of another. But respect for his teachers was second nature now, and his mouth was fighting to form words through the sobbing. He had to speak, had to tell. They had asked him too. "There was a fae. A woman. I cared for her. She was yelling and I couldn't move. I couldn't use my powers. I just had to sit there. She had a knife. Silver. The blade. My throat." His voice failed him then, as the panic returned. naeodin Immediatly Tanya held him closer. "Sethos, it's okay. It's alright." she said, trying to reassure the boy. "It's okay." Skill in the meanwhile, was trying to keep his features composed. A woman? Another fae? Then they could kill each other. But what was she doing and how... and... all these thoughts, turbulant thoughts ran across his mind like a sprinter, too fast for him to acknowledge completely. "Sethos, you are alive now." he said, sitting behind Tanya so that he could look straight into Sethos' eyes. "You are alive now. You aren't harmed." for a moment, his features hardened. "And no one is going to harm you like that again." He was feeling protective for his young charge. But was it really his fault? lithle Calming himself to at least a low panic, Sethos carefully pulled himself out of Tanya's arms. He needed... he needed to think. Or maybe he needed not to think. One way or another, he had to do something other than sit and cry. He could feel himself changing, could feel the pain and anger taking up residence in his heart. He'd always known that others weren't to be trusted. His memories had just shown him why. And yet--- and yet he knew that some of those he cared for were worth the caring. Would they betray him? How could he know? "M'lord, M'lady, I feel it would be best for me to return home." He forced the formalities out, giving them a shakey bow. "Thank you." He just wanted his father. naeodin Tanya nodded. "We'll bring the car." Her tone brook no arguments. She wasn't going to see Sethos out of her sight until she knew he would be safe. Skill opened his mouth to say something, anything but her look was enough to silence him, to have him try a new tactic. "Sethos." Skill said, and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a slim card with a single number printed on one side, Skill smiled. "This is the number to our room. Whenever you have any more of these dreams, whenever you have any more questions, let us now and we'll anwer, okay?" Meanwhile, he had work to do as well. Figuring out who that fae was. This was rare, seeing something so powerful as a child-- and Skill wanted to know why. Tanya nodded. "We'll help you in any way." she said quietly, her sibilant words catching the air.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 1:30 pm
Sethos sat in the car, still shaking mildly, wishing the ride was over. He needed to be home. He just... he just wanted to see his father. The vision wouldn't leave him alone. He kept feeling the sharp pain of the knife.
The door, and Sethos slid silently out of the car, making his way up the long stairs, past the book store where Cathy had taught him to read.
Alex was on the steps, having slid under the door again. Sethos scooped it up, and continued on his way. Step up. Fumble for key. Open door. He was shaking more now, in the unguarded space of the stairs. He had learned something new today.
Fear.
His father, not visible, not anywhere, which meant he must be in that room. Meditating. Talking to the Lady. Usually, Sethos tried to let him have his peace.
He banged on the door, lockedas always. He hit as hard as he could, as if the door were the dreams. Finally, after forever, it swung open, momentum carrying him through at a stumble. Straight into his fathers arms.
Wrapped up immediatly, to the soft shushing of his fathers voice. Pulled into a room of soft music and insense. No words passed between them. He just cried.
Unashamed, for once, of feeling.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 8:41 pm
Journal,
My, how time rushes. Sethos has been growing so fast. It seems like yesterday that he came out of his jar, and now he's nearly as tall as I am. Soon, I'll have to look up to my only son.
The last month has been hard. Sethos has been reaching toward his past, having dreams and visions. Apparently, his past was rather, well, dark. He's still not clear on the details. He had power, he's told me that much. And he was-- attacked by a loved one. Not killed, it seems, but somehow bound. What he had was lost.
It's made him less trustful, and he wasn't much for people in the first place. I can see the detachment in his eyes. He'll come close to me, yes. But even Cathy is treated with a certain amount of uncertainty. Females seem to concern him more than males, a fact that I'm rather unhappy with. But we've talked about it, and I'm hoping he'll overcome it soon.
For now, he's a quiet teenager, more interesting in reading and studying than a social life. He seems to have fallen into a-- I'm not sure. A lost place. His powers obey him well, his memories are becoming sorted out. And he's stopped moving.
For a dancer of the change, his stubbornness is hard to understand. It's like he's afraid to reach out. I will come up with an answer, but for the moment, I feel lost.
Kniene
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2006 2:59 pm
Invitation The thick scent of incense, the warmth of silence. It felt good to have his son kneeling beside him, going through the movements of meditation, even if he couldn't hear the Lady's whisper. That Sethos would even show enough interest to join him, well, that was special.
Kniene.
The voice was like a jolt. The Lady spoke in images and emotions, such a clear statement was startling. But he knew the voice of his Lady. And she was speaking to him. His mind was full of the scent of autumn. Rain and apples.
Kniene. Tomorrow. You will come to me. Bring the boy.Lady, how? There was no need to speak, he simply formed the words in his mind. He had been her Voice, once.The same way you arrived. I will open a portal here. I am waiting for you, Kniene. I miss you.
As abruptly as that, the feeling of her was gone, leaving him hollow and dizzy.
"Sethos?" He said his son's name gently, careful not to pull the boy out of his own trance to quickly, "We're going to be taking a short trip."
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2006 7:51 pm
Departure
The room was quiet as Kniene checked the contents of their new canvas backpacks one last time. Food, water, a change of clothes. Kniene had his sword hanging heavy on his belt, while Sethos carried the bow he'd come to be so proficient at.
"Are you prepared, Sethos?" Kniene asked, handing the teen his backpack and putting on his own. "My hope is that we'll be near the guard, but there's no promise."
Sethos inclined his head, a silent acknowledgement of his willingness to leave. He spoke more, yes, but that was no reason to be chatty.
"Then, we depart." The portal waited against the far wall of the meditation room, a swirling restless mass of gold, deep red, and earthy brown. Kniene could feel the energy of it, the warmth of his Lady's power, joyful, impatient, waiting. It was time then. Setting his hand lightly on Kniene's shoulder, he led them through.
The transition was familiar. He felt himself fading, losing contact with his body. Sensation faded, and his mind was full of song and colour. The rush of wind, an eagles cry. His Lady's kiss.
A wide green plain, with a town off to the left, rough and rural. No sign of the autumn guard. They had arrived.
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Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2006 8:31 am
Transport His eyes itched, and the scent of the town was overwhelming. Dung and unwashed bodies, pressed to close together. Sethos kept his thoughts to himself, but couldn't help thinking them. Had his father really come from this sort of place? A place where Sethos's lack of humanity had to be hidden, and the men and women still glared at them from street corners. Everything was dirty, and they walked in mud.
"This is only a temporary stop, Sethos." His father murmured placing a hand lightly on his arm. "We'll need horses. You wouldn't want to walk to-- them. They only feel about a day's ride distant, and they travel slowly."They stopped then, at father's rather mild gesture, walking off the rode and toward a building. A stable, it seemed, he could hear the restless movements of the animals within. "Good Day.""Good Day M'lord." The man replied. His voice was rough, his tone unfriendly, making his words sound mocking instead of respectful.
"We'll need two fresh horses. Do you have any?""A few M'lord. Nothing so grand as you might be used too."Sethos was confused, though he kept his mouth shut. His father wasn't a rich man, not to his knowledge. Just a man. And the stranger's tone-- it set his teeth on edge. He was suprised to feel a sharp flash of anger, the emotion almost unfamiliar. He was not accustom to growing disturbed so quickly. "I am sure I can find two to my liking." His father walked forward, so Sethos followed, into the stable and the heavy animal smell of horses. The closest he'd ever had to a pet was Alex, and it felt strange to be around 'real' animals. The bartering took time, but Sethos was too busy feeling displaced and angry to manaqe boredom, he just waited, trying not to breathe through his nose too much. He didn't like this world of his father's. It was nothing like Gaia, or the desert he remembered from his past. Of course, he wasn't sure he liked that place either. The betrayal-- it still hurt. It wouldn't happen again. No one would get so close again. The horses, one grey, the other brown, were huge to him. Large, threatening animals that he couldn't imagine riding. It was-- another obstical, in this strange quest. "Father, I do not ride." He pointed out, as his father saddled the animals. "I know Sethos, but you need not be a master to sit in a saddle. We will take breaks. You will-- probably be sore by the night, nonetheless.""Yes, Father." He lowered his head. The childhood arrogance that had caused him to fight against Kniene's will had long ago left him. The man had taken him in, given him a chance at former glory. He found he loved him with the same silent intensity that ran through most of his emotions. And-- there was a sadness about him, that made Sethos ache in sympathy, even if he didn't know the source. "Well then, let's get you on a horse."
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Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2006 9:47 am
Night Walk The air was full of night sounds. Crickets, birds, the rush of wind through the branches under which they'd camped. Without the noise of cars on the street below the small sounds seemed louder, more immediate. Sethos felt as if he was melting into the night. Father had bought canvas in town, and had made what amounted to a makeshift tent. It was small, cramped, and the ground was hard under the thin nest of blankets they'd brought. It didn't help that they'd been riding all day. His whole body ached, a deep, fierce pain that refused to ease. Father said in the morning, he'd be stiff. He wasn't looking forward to it. At least they'd catch up with Father's people in the morning. And then, hopefully, the whole trip could be finished. They'd fulfill whatever obligation it was that brought them here, and return to the safe familarity of home. He didn't like this strangeness, this abruptness of change. And he couldn't sleep. Father had said he was taking a walk, and Sethos, sore and exhausted had simply nodded. But now, he almost wish he'd asked to follow. He couldn't sleep, and the night seemed too large. Crawling out of the tent, he pulled his cloak tightly around him. The air was chilly, and the sharp wind bit at his exposed skin. Above him, the stars were very bright. He hadn't realized, before, that there could be so many stars, like white powder spread across the blanket of dark sky. The moons were even more impressive, two of them, dominating the sky and filling his gaze with their silver white glow. Despite his soreness, Sethos found himself relaxing. There was power and beauty here, and it felt like a part of him. He loved the sun, but he felt alive at night. Laughter. Soft and dry, like a rustle of leaves. The relaxation left him abruptly. That wasn't his father's voice. Collecting his power, though unsure of how it might help him, he moved toward the sound, silent as possible. And with the leaves blowing about, his footsteps didn't sound like much. Slowly, his serpant gaze made out a form, and the laughter became more distinct. Voices followed. Two of them. And the form distinguished itself, becoming a couple, walking together. Words.
"It has been too long since we walked the night." He'd never heard the voice before, but knew it. It resonated through him, and had done so for much of his short life. It was the voice of his father's dreams and visions. Autumn.
"We walked the dusk, Lady." And that was his father, there was no mistaking the calm saddness of Kniene's words. He had his hand about her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Their backs were to him. He fell still. "As you say. Still it has been too long." She knelt, touching the ground, and a fur was spread out in front of her, where before there had only been sticks and leaves. The two of them sat. She was in his arms. "Do you like it there?""Of course. Gaia is full of wonders. Beauties I can't even hope to describe." Sethos knew it was wrong to be listening. He didn't move. "You're lying." The was no anger in her accusation, instead it was paired with more of her dry laughter. "Lady-- I miss the stars. The trumpets. The laughter of the children. I miss the colours. The feeling of riding dragonback. The dance."Sethos had never heard his father speak so plainly. There was pain in his voice, not distant with calm but raw and immediate. His voice was rough, like a person on the edge of tears, and fighting to keep them from flowing. But her voice was cool. As distant as the winds, as the turn of the seasons. "Is that what you miss?""Lady, I have no right to miss you." And now there was something else that Sethos had not heard in his voice before. Bitterness. "No. You gave up that right." Finally her voice lost its amused tone. Her feelings were hard to read. Sethos wasn't sure what he heard from her. Anger, perhaps? Disappointment, maybe. "And still, I do my best to keep you.""And I live a stranger, so that I might be kept." They were silent then, or if they spoke, the did it too softly for him to hear the words. The pause was long enough that Sethos was considering turning back when his father spoke again. "How is Dorothe?" "He is-- well. A good leader. A good Voice." The strangeness in her voice was more obvious, though he still couldn't pinpoint it's meaning. "I am glad.""Must we talk of it?" "Would you rather it sits between us?""I am the Between." She responded, and he heard the force of power in her voice. It faded quickly. "And I have you for such a little while.""As my Lady wishes."They were only shadows to him. But he could see her lean into Kniene, could see the two shadows merging into one. His head was full of their conversation. The shades and implications he had no way to understand. Dorothe? He knew the name. His Father's gryphon friend. He backed away, silent as he had followed. The tent was barely warmer, only safer from the wind. He kept hearing the pain in Father's voice. What had he lost, so that Sethos might gain a parent? What was going on? And would Kniene even want to return, now that he had his Lady in his arms again?
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Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2006 2:01 pm
Autumn Guard Three days. Three days since they'd reached the Autumn Guard. Since that night when Sethos had seen his Father talking to the Goddess. They had not spoken of it the next morning. They had still not spoken of it. Sethos felt lost. The colours, the passion, the wildness of the guard confused him. They acted like a unit, a family, but a huge, expansive family, with too much noise, and too much affection. He had met gryphons and elves. Dragons and centaurs. And to the last, they'd been polite, more than that, joyful. Glad to meet Kniene's son, and glad to have Kniene back. No one had yet mentioned the reasons he'd left in the first place. Sethos wondered if he'd ever know. He kept to himself, not knowing what else to do. Father had been quiet since they'd got here. Rekindling old friendships, but with distance. It wasn't that he didn't seem happy. He did seem happy. But it was if he wouldn't let the happiness touch him, as if he wouldn't fully feel the emotion. As if he were afraid to let it too close. The fires were just being lit. It was coming on dusk. From the tent he shared with his father Sethos could see a young dragon rough housing with a centaur. Like children. Like he and Noelle had once done, in their own way. The two he watched had no anger, though. Just scales made a brighter gold by the setting sun, and wild laughter. "Come walk with me." To his eyes, she was fae. A fae with eyes like twilight, and hair the colour of a sunset's last breath. Deep red, with hidden gold. She was the Lady, she was Autumn. She was smiling at him. No one seemed to be looking toward them. And he stood, to follow.
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Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 8:48 pm
A Lecture Sethos's emotions were glitter and fire, his body tense with the silence. He thought, and kept thinking of, his father. Kniene, who'd been silent, hurt even, since the last time the Lady had appeared. He thought of the prayers and rituals that he'd been taught, the time spent in silent meditation. His father's firm, but gentle voice speaking of change and acceptance. The Autumn Guard, with their fierce love of life, and their strange beauty. The thoughts filled him, overwhelmed him, stilled his tongue. She didn't speak either, and her steps were slow. The forest they walked through was ancient, the trees spoke in gentle rustling, the ground was thick with dead leaves and moss. After they'd been walking long enough to lose any sound or sight of the camp, they reached a clearing. A small stream ran through it, burbling gently, chatting with the trees. She touched the ground beside the spring with long fingers, pulling the same trick he'd seen before. The fur was the same deep red of her hair, and soft as rabbit's fur.
"Sit with me." It wasn't a request, though she said it sweetly, her gaze on the sky, still turning colours above them. As if no time had passed, and they still existed on the first kiss of dusk. "Yes, Lady." She was, he thought, a Goddess. And while, his memories told him, he'd been mistaken as a God once, he had only been Fae. Vulnerable to binding at the blade of a knife. There seemed to be no choice in obeying her. The silence fell between them again, and the air was thick with the scent of apples and smoke. Her dress, of dark gold silk, seemed to catch the dying light and hold it. She almost glowed. "You love your father." Again, it was a statement, not a question, but he nodded anyway. Silence held him. Not the usual, optional silence he so respected, but the silence of the powerless in front of the great. Against his neck, the vial of sand burned. "I love him as well. But he left me."She paused, as if expecting a response from him. But even in the company of Gods, nature won out, and Sethos waited silently for her to continue. Her eyes seemed somehow darker though the light lingered, with no attention paid to the passage of time. She sighed, or perhaps the wind picked up. The scenery seemed part of her. "But that is past, and his choice was noble enough. We do not speak of that this eve. No, Sethos, Sand's Child, Time Twister. We speak of you." Her attention left the sky, turned to him. He felt like he was drowning. And while part of him desperately wanted to ask about his father he wouldn't. Kniene would tell him, if he wished. "He is worried about you.""Why?" The statement merited the question. He had not thought that he was causing his father concern. "You have-- faded with the return of your memories. I see it as well. Clearer than he does." She reached out, finger hovering just above his Ankh. He could feel her power, though she didn't touch him. "You lock yourself away. You know you've been hurt in the past. Worse-- betrayed and bound."It seemed as if she meant to sound understanding, but there was a distance to her. As if the very fact of her nature made it hard to reach her. "And so you hide in your silence. Oh, you tell yourself it's a thing of power. But you think it protects you. You make yourself a thing apart. Unreachable. Sethos, you are a fool." And then she did touch him, closed the small gap between her finger and his chest. Warmth ran through him in a rush, shifting and wild. "To stagnate is to die. And you're on that road. Avoiding people doesn't protect you from betrayal, interacting with them does. The more you know, the more you understand, the more prepared and capible you'll be. In your past, you let one person in. And she turned on you. Had you let two people in, perhaps you'd have gotten a warning. Power is not something you can hold on your own." Her words were water, were wind in leaves. Her words were wine and he was drunk on them. Blows and he was bruised. A lecture from a goddess was no ordinary experiance. "Listen carefully, child. I know the voice of starlight and the taste of hatred. And you know so much less than you think you do. Experiance. Learn. Go outside yourself. If you stop growing, you will find you quickly start fading. And what's happened once can happen again. Live. For his sake."She stood, a whisp, a bit of breeze, with a smile like a broken heart. Her fingers brushed his head lightly, and the circlet he wore burned briefly. The sand echoed it.
"Tell him I said, Goodbye."The world was fading, like a dream that couldn't quite be held. The trees seemed to bleed into one other, the sound of water became the roar of wind, and then the rush of cars. The meditation room. His father stood, silent, his expression remote. Sethos thought he could feel his pain. "She said goodbye, Father. She said she loved you." And for once, silence meant there was nothing left to say.
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2006 7:58 am
Finding a place to put a baby in an already full apartment was something that Kniene hadn't even considered before. When the infant got older, they'd have no choice but to move. For the moment, it looked like the young criminal would be living in his room.
They'd picked up a bassinet on the way home, one without the frills and lace that seemed so popular. Kniene had a feeling that the angry child wouldn't really care for girlish decoration. Or decoration of any sort. If anything, he might want a punching bag. He certainly hadn't given up on beating on Sethos.
The bassinet was set up in the corner of his room, and the child, having worn himself out with screams, had fallen asleep. It made the room seem almost earily quiet. The whole house, in fact, felt strange.
But, a new child was bound to take some adaption.
Kniene walked over to the bassinet, peering down at the sleeping infant, his little wings and tiny fists. The wings had been a surprise, hidden as they were beneath the white T-shirt when he came. They fit through slits that Kniene had made in his pjs, matching his hair and eyes. Such pretty colouring.
"You need a name, young one." He whispered quietly, reaching down to not quite touch his hair. He didn't stir. "Autsu. Where I come from, a follower of the God of Chance, brother of my Lady. You need a chance, Autsu. My he bless you."
He walked out of the room, and found Sethos standing there, a distant look in his eyes.
"Son?" He asked, keeping his voice low, in respect for Autsu. But Sethos shook his head, eyes brougth to focus.
"I feel very strongly toward him. It is strange." His son told him, as his fingers stroked the Ankh he always wore. The ankh that had first called him to his current form.
"Not so strange. The Lady requires that every infant be loved." He squeezed his son's arm lightly, "I will make us some tea, and we can speak of what's passed in these hectic days."
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