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 Posted: Mon Oct 07, 2013 11:14 pm
Under the Canopy - 365 wordsBiroki found the darkened path leading back to Ast, but he still wondered if it had been a mistake to wander so far away in the dead of night. Things lurked in the darkness and sure he had magic, but those things were soft-pawed and sneaky. It was a wonder he hadn't been attacked yet.
As he drew closer to the familiar settlement and his house (!!!) his mind returned to the two issues warring for his attention.
He now had an obligation- a mission, if you would- to find herbs for a new aquiantence- Rayolun the painted shifter. There had to be color-shifting herbs somewhere, and who knew what other properties they might have! Such a find would be interesting, but it might be dangerous... well, he could bring it up to Zuri later, and to Briella and Amninah as well. Maybe they could go exploring and find something interesting. Between the four of them, he was confident that they could handle just about anything. Wheras alone, he could handle... nothing.
Except the house. It was right in front of him, standing new and fresh and ready to be occupied. He had built it (screw the other guy) HE had built it with HIS hands.
His mind turned to Zuri. He would show it to her tomorrow. Things had to be perfect. He scaled the steps, checking off things on a mental checklist. All the scaffolding and random construction stuff gone? Yes. The thatching was well woven? Yes.
He filled a vase with water and began arranging the flowers, fiddling with them until they were just right. He wanted to impress her and make her swoon. He wanted to, for once and possibly for the only time, have the power to WOW her. To really impress her.
Things had to work out.
Eventually, as dawn's pale light began to seep through the canopy into his window, he closed his eyes to sleep on his new bed. He needed to not look like he had been up all night, though he knew he probably would. He thought he couldn't fall asleep, with the rapid flow of excited thoughts going through his head.
But he did.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:56 pm
Blindfolded - Biroki and Zuri - 188 words
It was always hard to sleep in a new place. Unfamiliar sounds and vibrations and light patterns woke you from sound slumber as if they somehow signaled a threat.
But here, in his new home, with Zuri warm and wonderful beside him, in the bed that HE had built, he didn't mind at all. Not at all.
He relaxed back into the bed, watching the shadows play on the new wooden ceiling.
So.
Here he was.
He had never felt more grown up than he did now, or as much of a man. He had made a house. He had brought his girl there. She had liked it.
And, most of all, he had managed to propose without fainting. It was a legitimate fear. If anything could make him pass out it would have been that moment... that intricately stressful and beautiful time-stopping moment.
He had a fiance now, he was taken, and it felt good to be wanted in such a permanent and lifelong way. They were going to get married and then... and then... what?
Oh he didn't know, but with Zuri things would be wonderful.
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Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2013 6:43 pm
Forever a Wimp – 1020 words
For Biroki, spell practice was as much an emotional relief as an attempt to be better. The magic burned inside him and it wanted out. He stood at his practice clearing, fairly far from the house, and summoned flames to him. It was an act so easy that it barely required much thought, as he gathered it around his hands. With a cry, he slammed it into the ground.
The explosion of fire was stunningly beautiful, and he followed it with lightning, letting his feelings explode out with the pyrotechnics. The searing of magic built and releases in a series of sudden cathartic bursts. Each bolt crackled and sizzled in the air before scorching the ground of the clearing. Worked into a wordless fury, he slammed the ground again and again with dancing heat and light until it was a black, glossy, smouldering floor surrounded by slightly crisped trees.
The Jahuar rains, regular and inevitable as ever, came, the bloated droplets dissipating into steam as they hit the ground and his sweating black skin. He panted in the rain and steam and smell of ozone and leaned back against a tree, sliding down to watch the rain fall and the steam rise over his magical handiwork.
He was not feeling good today, and though his magic was easing up on him, it still was difficult, some days, to stay calm and happy, especially when frustration loomed over him like an ugly neighbor.
Yesterday, he had been pathetic; pathetic and foolish. He had faced a Wadana and, instead of being courageous and standing and fighting, he had run. He had lost. Like he had lost so many other battles. Against Yaholo, against his own Zuri, in the tournament. Never once had he won. Why did he keep trying?
The tournament. Why had he thought he could win? He had trained for the fights so hard, only to be crushed as he always was. He would never win a fight. He would forever be Zuri's pathetic little pitiful husband. She was so much stronger than he was, in all the ways that was possible. She would always be stronger, always be more. She was carrying his child, and there was little he could do to help her. He was so impotent.
He had tried and failed in his endeavors, he would continue to try and continue to fail. He could continue to train in the knowledge that it would probably be fruitless, or he could give up and do something else, like agriculture. Everybody needed food, right?
But he knew that the magic inside him wouldn't let him do something so peaceful. Lighting and fire were very active elements. They needed to be released explosively, otherwise they would release themselves to great destruction.
He watched as the rain fell harder, soaking his hair and clothes and feet and washing away the black burnt earth he had seared. Soon only the reddish soil would remain, and all memory of his wrath would be forgotten, lost to the rains and devouring jungle.
For the child inside her, he realized as wrath washed away, he couldn't give up hope that one day he would succeed. Otherwise, what sort of lesson would he be teaching them?
Stars, what sort of father could he be? A weak one, that was for sure. He wouldn't be much of a role model, not like Zuri's own father. Oh sure, he would be a good father. He would be a nice father. He was a nice guy.
But what kid looked up to a wimp? None at all. And a wimp was what he was. At least they had Zuri to look up to and respect, and he supposed he could inspire them to appreciate the world around them. He wasn't sure they would do anything more than laugh at their silly father's poetry and fine words.
Fine words were really all he he was capable of. He was just a sparking, firestarting weakling, and that was all he would ever be. He could get stronger, but so would everything around him... He just had to get used to it.
He could feel the fire magic churning inside of him, what little had regenerated after his tantrum, and he knew that he wouldn't get used to it. His own magic wouldn't let him. It was strong, full of raw, untamed energy and power. It would not let him rest until he stopped being a weakling, and he didn't know if that was even possible.
He watched the rain begin to let up, leaving only a few patches of blackened glass, the results of sudden heating from lightning. He was a wimp, and there was no changing that.
But perhaps...
Perhaps, he could be a tricky wimp. It was an interesting idea, winning by wit. But wasn't it cheating to be tricky? Zuri often used tricks on him. Surely his wife wasn't a cheat. That was why she won- strength and trickery, and she certainly won an awful lot. Well, she would have another thing coming. He would learn her tricks and use them against her. And, finally, he would win, and maybe keep winning for her and their children. He may be a wimp, but if he pushed hard enough, maybe he could be a passable wimp! Yeah! He liked the sound of that. Well, sort of. He'd like to not be a wimp at all. He wasn't going to give up on himself, though. If he had to be a wimp, he would be the best damn possible wimp.
The rain passed on, ending as suddenly as it had begun. Biroki stood up, scuffing at the blasted and shining patches of glass. It was time to gather resources and go home to Zuri- she would be wanting her tea and he, Biroki the wimp, was at her beck and call and not particularly upset about it.
He would learn her tricks. He would win. And then it would be his turn to provide a 'reward'.
The thought... was appealing.
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 10:19 pm
Well, I'm Stumped Biroki and Yaholo, 339 words
Biroki had a lot to muse on that sunset, as he watched from his favorite viewing spot. Alas, Zuri was busy, and his new friend had far off places to travel, so he watched it alone. Incidentally, the new friend was what he mused about- the strange half-alkidike man with the peculiar colors and markings. His eyes had been fantastic, though Biroki knew he wouldn't have been able to tell him so.
He had never met someone so much like him before, had never felt so relaxed around someone before. As their tea party had gone on- Biroki was glad that his tea-making skills seemed to be good at making new friends who wouldn't kill him- Biroki's stammering had reduced down to a trip up here or there.
Yaholo had been so nice, so kind, so interesting! Biroki hoped he'd have occasion to see the man again! He had thought he was the only one... though that was uncharitable to think. He just hadn't ever met someone like that before, and now he had.
Biroki wondered what being a halfbreed must be like. Surely, the man must have it worse than Zuri- if he was living with the Alkidikes, then he must be one of very very few males. Or the only male at all! Gosh, what would that be like, to be the only man among women?
As he watched shadows fall over the canopy, he shuddered. That actually sounded terrifying, especially considering that alkidikes were just plain scary women.
Either way, Biroki had felt a kinship that went beyond gender or race. He and Yaholo were good, kind, people in a world that didn't appreciate itself. Biroki smiled. He had a new friend to count on, who could count on him in return.
He hopped off the tree and made for one of his favorite thinking spots- a perch by a waterfall that would look absolutely beautiful in the moonlight.
Friendship was a good thing to have indeed.
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 10:36 pm
Birokidsness - Biroki and Zuri - 444 words
Biroki woke up. It couldn't have been more than a few hours since they had returned from the tournament- his skin had barely changed and he was still worn out.
Maybe it was because of the news, though he wasn't sure if 'it' was his exhaustion or his early rise. He sat up and looked at Zuri, not feeling as though sleep would come easily.
Children. A Child. He was going to be a father. There was no question of whether to keep the child or not- of course they would. Zuri wanted it, and she was the one pregnant, and he wanted it too.
He was afraid, though. He was very afraid. He had no way of really knowing how to be a father- he had never really met his biological father- and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Heck, he didn't really have parents who raised him. Reshel was many things, but not his father.
But perhaps that would be a good place to start. He needed to make up with his uncle now anyway, now that he had settled down. Reshel was not his father, but had known both of his mothers and had raised him. That was something.
Biroki wished he could help Zuri, but he couldn't carry the baby for her. It just simply was impossible, and he wondered why. He wanted to share in her burdens and sufferings and frustrations and joys, because at the very least- even as wimpy as he was- he could at least be a set of extra hands.
But this he couldn't share, not in the same way.
Things were about to get very hectic. Questions would be asked, things would be practiced, a room would be remodeled, and- most of all- people would be told.
And there was still Sen'oda. Would she ever wake? Would he ever meet his only remaining mother? Would she have some advice and insight? He would offer his assistance for advice and supplies. That would work. He stepped silently outside and looked up at the canopy. He planned out his day, piece by piece.
But no matter how he planned, he still felt that tremulous fear. What if he did something wrong? What if he wasn't good enough? But he had to put it aside. What happened, had happened, and would happen, and he would have to be man enough, at least, to step up to the challenge ahead, and brainy enough to be armed with every resource available.
Resolved, he went to the pantry and prepared his first meal. Today, he thought, was the first day of the rest of his life.
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 7:26 am
Biroki awoke with a start, confused -breifly- as to where he was. Zuri's breathing next to him calmed him. He was home, he was safe.
He'd had a nightmare that he had not had in ages. One of a screaming woman, bearing down on him with a pipe. The corridors of the jungle would stretch on and on between safety and the crazed woman, and he had to keep running and running, before she caught him.
He relaxed. He knew where the nightmare came from, and that woman had died a while ago, or so Reshel had told him. He was safe from her.
He wondered what happened to the girl, Hijil? He hadn't seen her much since, or at all recently. Well, he was sure she was okay.
The crib with the newborns was in their room, and he saw movement in the moonlight. He moved quickly, formula in hand, and took care of the twins before they could wake Zuri. He cooed and fed and re wrapped his girls quietly.
He felt warm, fuzzy, and most of all, safe. In dim summoned light, he saw his girls fall asleep again. It was peaceful. He leaned against the crib and watched them before he drifted away himself, smiling.
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Posted: Fri Dec 20, 2013 11:03 pm
Happy Family - 1438 words
Biroki couldn't stop shaking. He hugged his knees to him for the comfort they provided as he sat on the ground just in front of his uncle's hut. He didn't know what to do about what was happening. He wasn't prepared! He wasn't ready!
Reshel sat down next to him and put a firm hand on the panicking man's shoulder. "Biroki, you need to pull yourself together..." said the healer, pressing down firmly, as if his force of will could stop his nephew's trembling. "Everything will all be fine."
Biroki looked at him as if his uncle had suddenly sprouted a third eye.
"Fine? F-fine?!" his eyes were wide, and his voice was tinny and strained with fear "I don't know what to do!" he wailed.
"Sure you do." said Reshel, giving Biroki a shake. He was proud of his nephew. He was all grown up now. But the little crybaby boy he had been was still in there and still afraid of the unknown.
Reshel had known about Zuri's pregnancy for some time, even before he had been told. You cannot fool an experienced healer like Reshel for long. Under his careful monitoring, her pregnancy had gone well (though he suspected that more than one baby was involved, considering the few troubles she did have, and now... "You've helped me with this, remember?" He'd talked to Biroki about this before, and Biroki had helped him midwife once. The boy had been comparatively calm then.
Then again, it was his wife lying on the soft bedroll, wracked with muscle spasms, not some other woman from the village. That made it personal. That made it real. "And you'll help me again." Reshel gave Biroki another shake. "Come on, lad, its the miracle of life. There's nothing for you to be afraid of."
Biroki sniffled. "Reshel... what if it goes wrong? What if something happens?
"Nothing's going to happen. Everything is going to be fine." said Reshel soothingly.
"Don't lie to me!" cried Biroki, his voice more a squeak of anguish than a cry, "I know what can happen!"
Reshel knew he did. He knew what could happen too, and it wouldn’t happen on his watch if he could help it. "Aye. I'm saying. It will be fine."
"You can't know!" Biroki cried, burying his face in his hands. If she died... if something went wrong now...
She had gone into labor that afternoon, and Biroki had been calm then. He'd gotten her to the hut as quickly as possible, gotten anything she might want from home, and had returned before it hit him that it was actually happening- his child was about to be born.
Then he had really started panicking.
It would be his fault if something happened. Not the baby's - of course not. Babies were blameless. But he was the one that had seeded it inside her with his thoughtless lust. He groaned unhappily, his rich imagination providing him with a thousand dire scenarios within the second, countless what-ifs that only served to drive his panic deeper into his brain. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curl up in a little ball and cry.
Reshel smiled. "Biroki, I'm here. You're here. Nothing is going to happen. Do you understand? We wont let it happen, right? Biroki?" he gave the young man a light shove, "Between the two of us, this is going to go without a hitch. She carried the baby..." he didn't want to panic Biroki again by saying 'babies', "Full to term. She had no complications, she's been eating right, and shes a strong lass. She. Will. Be. Fine." Reshel glanced up as a groan of pain came from the hut, "Now lets get in there and help her out." he said, standing up.
Maybe the shove had managed to stick the message through his nephew’s thick skull. Biroki certainly felt calmer now. He took a deep breath, then another, feeling the panic wash away. He trusted Reshel to be right. Reshel had to be right. Things would be okay. One major, painful worry still remained, though.
"Reshel?" Biroki asked, "What if she hates me?"
Reshel looked at him, puzzled. Then he laughed. "Biroki, let me tell you something. You- and no man, really- ain’t never gonna go through what she’s going through right now. You want my opinion? If she's pissed off and wants to beat you to a tarry pulp..." He smiled, ”You let her.” he chuckled at a memory of another birth, long ago. "Ya know, when you were born, your mom was the sweetest. She thanked me, even. But Sen? Sen’oda? Sen wanted to beat me up, and I wasn't even the father.” he flinched, unnecessarily dramatically, but hopefully it would be enough to break his nephew's mood. ” But you know what? I let my sister beat me up, and she beat me good. Do you understand?"
Biroki smiled wanly. "I think so." he said, his voice a little wobbly, but stronger now "I think... I'm ready to help now."
He stood up and followed a pleased (and smug) Reshel into the hut.
~~~
Reshel cleaned up in the warm, softened Jahuar silence. Both parents and babes lay sleeping from their respective ordeals. He smiled at the group of them, cuddled together in a corner of his hut. He had been right: It had been twins- two beautiful, healthy baby girls. His little grandnieces.
He had never thought of his nephew being a father. He still didn't look like one- Biroki's face was soft and youthful in sleep, very much like he had been when he was a child. Reshel chuckled to himself. He would grow into the role, eventually -- he could see, already, lines of worry beginning to crease his boy's face. Reshel had never thought he'd be anything close to a father himself, but he'd managed to raise Biroki. He'd had to grow into the role, too.
His sister Sen'oda had always been a fireball. She had been fierce, even when they were little. When her mate had become round with child, she had badgered him, day in and day out, about Jkhom's health. He had insisted she would be fine, and she had been. Biroki had been born smoothly with no complications. Even so, Sen'oda had taken out her worries on him: he could still remember the pain of the bruises. Reshel supposed that was the disadvantage of being someone's brother- you were always close enough to hit. He'd let her- he knew how she worked. She was the sort of woman who had to hit a problem, and Jkhom's pregnancy was a problem she could not help her with, nor could she hit. So, Reshel became the punching bag.
He knelt beside her still, thin, ragged form, laying on a mat on the other side of the hut. It was terrible to see her now, once so full and strong, now so shrunken and weak. She had been asleep for so long. Reshel patted her sunken cheek and tipped her head up to carefully feed her some water.
He was worried about her. In his professional opinion, she should have awoken from her deep slumber by now. It had been a long time since the two Alkidikes had brought her, and the grave wounds she had been brought in with had long healed, leaving nasty scars on her taut skin.
There was only so much he could do, and he wondered if she would ever wake up. Some of the other healers in the village had told him to give up on her. They said that she would never wake, that she was dead but for his intervention and he should let her pass on. But Reshel refused to give up on his sister. She wouldn't have given up on him, and she deserved the same courtesy. He set her head down and looked at her as she breathed shallowly.
"Ah, Sen" he mumbled, "Don't ya want to see yer grandkids?"
No response. "I know yer upset. I know you want to see Jkhom. But ya can't, sis, she's not here. At least...” he choked on the emotion that rushed through him. Hope, longing, love, and pain. He missed his sister so badly. ...At least wake up and see this sight, here."
Nothing.
"Ah well. Was worth a try." he said, covering her up again. He'd have to change her linens and clean her tomorrow.
He looked once more at the new family and smiled.
His Biroki was all grown up.
He just wished his sister could see it.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 2:29 pm
Training - 696 words
It had been a long time since his last outburst. Biroki had thought that he had finally gotten his magical tantrums under control, that he had calmed the storm inside of him. And, for the most part, he had. He no longer felt constantly angry or snappish, and he'd certainly made no accidental fires recently. All of his fires and sparks had been of his own will. He could control the roiling forces inside of him, and had even figured out how to turn it towards the manipulation of Earth energies.
Maybe it was the stress of taking care of the girls and generally being an adult, or maybe it was how much of Zuri's attention was now on their children and not on him. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
Either way, while he was gathering, he had suddenly felt the need to lash out at something. He inspected the scorch mark on the tree, feeling more than a little apologetic towards the tree. At least it wasn't an earthling companion, or a pet, that had taken the searingly bright bolt of lightning. The tree, he hoped, would live.
Still, it meant that he was not yet completely in control of the chaotic storm of the energies within him. He had to be vigilant. He had to healthily respect the raw power at his fingertips. Most of all, though, he had to refine his control. What if he felt this way when he was out with Zuri? Or the girls? He didn't want to harm them because of that irrational, rash mood. Indirectly or unintentionally, he still didn't want to hurt his family. Stars, he didn't want to hurt anybody. He supposed it wouldn't be too bad if he struck an Obanese with lightning but that was another story. They were an enemy. He was not worried about striking an enemy. It was friend and family he worried about.
He turned away from the scorch mark, shaken, and decided to cut his gathering expedition short. Clearly he needed to train more.
He made his way to the small meadow that he used to practice in. It was close enough to be convenient to walk to but far enough away to practice in privacy. It bore the marks of his energies; charcoal and melted silica stained the ground a shiny black, the air, beaten so by flame and thunder, was still drier than the surrounding moisture, even though it had been a week since he had been here last. He pulled one of the blackened logs he used for target practice and set it in the center.
He knew how to use his magic - he no longer needed constant practice to be able to cast spells. Now, the training was to restrain it: he could make it bend to his will, but now he needed to stop it from influencing his will. That would require peace and quiet.
He sat on the log and, taking several deep, long, breaths, closed his eyes and let his mind and body calm down. He felt his muscles relax and his consciousness drift. He became aware of his magic, rumbling like magma beneath his thoughts - beneath the calm of who he was. Because, despite his stammering and uncertainty and occasional frantic fits, he was actually - he realized - a calm guy who was usually aware of the world around him. The key now was to keep that calmness intact and prevent the energies within from exploding out. The method to do that, he thought, had to lie deeper. He let himself fall deeper into meditation.
When he opened his eyes, it was no longer night - when he had started out - but now daytime in Jahuar, signaled not by light filtered through the canopy, but by a change in the noises of the jungle. He hurried to his feet and headed towards home, feeling sheepish. He had fallen asleep, likely, and needed to get home with his goods before Zuri worried. He left feeling as though he had found something profound about himself. He'd just need some more time to realize what that something was.
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Posted: Wed Feb 26, 2014 7:31 pm
Blazing Threats in the Dark Sage Class Quest (666 words)i
Biroki watched them take the criminals and the dead bodies away, too stunned and off balance to move. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, aside from a passionate confusion. It took him a while, alone, before he could get the courage to head home.
Home was very close by - too close - though it was far enough that the noises of battle had not pierced the usual nocturnal Jahuar din. His house was quiet as he entered the structure, his wife and children asleep.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at them, feeling his tension wash away. His wife was so beautiful and vibrant and alive. He loved her so dearly. And his girls, his two girls, they were so small and vulnerable and cute. If Zuri could claim to have his heart, then the twins had his soul. If anything had happened to them, anything at all... He would not have been able to forgive himself.
But nothing had happened. His girls were safe and sound, undisturbed from their slumber. Antiope's words lingered in his mind: His girls were safe, but could he live with what he had done to save them?
He didn't feel like sleeping, so he went into their cooking area, nudging the fire from embers into glorious warmth and setting a kettle to boiling water for some tea. He watched it as it heated, thinking.
Because he hadn't thought while he was fighting, not really. Or, if he had, his thoughts had been so narrow, not as spacious and free as they usually were, that he could not consider them thought. In those moments, his mind had focused onto one very keen fact: It was either them, or him and his family. The men had been a threat and he had had to deal with them, and he had.
But did he have to kill those two men? No. He hadn't had to kill them. They would have been found and brought to justice anyway. But in that moment he hadn't known that. He had felt alone - so very alone - and powerful, and desperate, and angry.
He didn't feel angry anymore, just... put out. He watched as the kettle began to steam. Could he live with himself? Could he live with having murdered, essentially, two men? Two shifters, like himself? Thugs, yes, but people? Antiope was right. They hadn't deserved their death. But they had threatened his family, and he knew - with absolute and terrifying certainty - that they would have done terrible things to his girls. Zuri could take care of herself, but ambushed in her sleep by four men? Without Biroki to help? And the Twins... they were so helpless.
No. His family was safe. He could live with his actions. He had done what had had to be done. It would be worth their deaths to see his two little girls grow up, to hold Zuri in his arms every night, to know that he had, for all his incompetance, come through when he was needed.
Yes, he could live with himself and, he knew, with time he would be able to sleep properly again. But he also knew that he would never forget the sounds of the thug's death - The flames as they devoured him, the screams of the man as he was burned alive, the finalistic thud of the mans body on the ground... He would never forget those. Nor would he forget the uncontrollable rage he had felt, or the death he had been prepared to deal, or the sudden realization, as the water hit him, that he was not in control.
He poured himself a cup of tea, holding it close to him as he breathed in its herbal scent. H would not forget those. He curled himself around the cup, shuddering with internal tears - of grief, relief, or fear, he could not tell.
He would not forget. Not as long as he lived.
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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2014 3:03 pm
Meta Ch. 5: Invasion Response: Responsible for Others – 345 words
Biroki had never felt so grown up in his life. Nor had he ever felt quite this afraid. He'd had others under his care, but the responsibility had ultimately fallen to his uncle in those cases. Even when He'd been responsible for his Sen'oda, when their hut had burned down, it had still not felt like HIS job... More like a job he was filling in for. Temporarily.
He hadn't felt this way even when his girls had been in dange from that madman and his cronies.
Now, though, as he carried a patient he was treating to Neued, He felt this fear strongly. He supposed that was what leadership was - being responsible for the lives and deaths of people under his command. He had to manage the prentices and healers, get them to where they were needed and keep them working. But he also had to take care of them, assigning them breaks or other chores. It was draining, especially since his assistance - meager as his healing magic could be - was needed. Carrying the patient was, for him, a break from the rigors of the day.
It had hurt that he'd had to put patients above other patients. He'd felt the exhaustion in his lead-ees faces as keenly as his own. But, he found, he didn't regret today at all. He didn't regret anything he did today, not really. It hurt, but all of his decisions, he thought, had been good ones, and that surprised him.
He'd been given responsibility and he hadn't flopped at the first hurdle. He'd managed a group and they had come thought. They had saved lives. It gave him a little thrill of excitement to realize that, for the first time in his life, he - Biroki the wimp - had been a leader.
He was a little afraid of that too. What sort of person would he be if he got used to leading? He hadn't disliked the wimpy Biroki he had been. What if he didn't like the kind of man he was becoming?
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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2014 3:12 pm
Meta Ch. 5: Invasion Response: Worry – 247 words
In the Chaos, Biroki had neglected to worry about his wife and children for the first time since he had had a wife and children. Upon reaching Neued, though, he realized this and panicked. Yes, he'd sent Yaholo to find them, Yes Zuri could take care of herself, Yes his daughters got out of trouble as often as in, but he still felt worry grip his chest and stomach, squeezing out his confidence.
For the first time since the battle had started, he had ceased to be the leaderly Sage Biroki, and had become the worried wimpy father he had always been.
This was war.
His wife could take care of herself, but against armies of Obans? Or those monsters he had heard of? He didn't think so. Not even her.
His children? Yes they got out of trouble and were clever and resourceful girls who he adored with all his being. But there were so many ways for them to find trouble, and so many troubles that would find them. He groaned, searching for his family in the shifter settlement. Why had he brought them to this war? Why hadn't he been more assertive and gone out to battle himself?
He should have gone. He should have been out there. then his girls would have been safe and sound, instead of him. Because He'd lost them. He moved faster, calling their names throughout the crowded settlement. He needed to find them before it was too late!
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Posted: Sun Apr 13, 2014 5:59 pm
Red of Tooth and Claw Ikkio and Ruelash with Biroki as a Cameo, 488 words Biroki could still feel his rage simmering under his skin, like boiling magma, ready to erupt at any moment. He was angry - he was still angry - at that ice tribe man. But he had controlled himself.
As Zuri watched the girls tend their animals, he finished the cooking, using the familiar activity to soothe himself.
It was working.
His magic was slowly working its way back within where it belonged, and he was starting to feel calm and rational again, able to think clearly about the whole event.
When he had walked into the fight, he had only really seen a man, a child, and a pack of ferocious beasts. He had reacted accordingly, chasing the beasts off and checking to be sure they were both all right, alive, or at least saveable.
He had been shocked to find that the girl was his own daughter... no, not exactly shocked. Not alone, anyway. Shocked, stunned, startled, horrified, terrified... all of those emotions had mixed into a heartbeat of an instant, rocking his body with panic. Relief had been there too - that his daughter was alive.
He had wondered why she was there, when she was supposed to be safe and sound with her mother. But the man had been gravely injured, and needed tending, so that thought had been put out of his mind for the moment.
And honestly, Ikkio had wandered off into trouble before. It was not so much a surprise, as much as a nightmare nearly realized - that she had found a trouble she almost could not return from. That was why he had decided to force her to stay with her sister, who was less prone to wandering and more reasonable. Besides, even on an escapade, the two could look after each other. In fact, as long as they were together with their beasts - including that new Radaku once it was trained - he was happy to encourage exploration and adventures. That wasn't why Ikkio was in trouble, though it was a part of it.
He was angry with Ikkio because she had lied. Quite a few times. Some of her lies had been obvious. Some had been subtle. Biroki knew that all children - or at least most of them - lied on some level. But Ikkio's lies were more than that. He had seen the rage on the mans face, the anger of being accused. Ikkio had nearly gotten herself killed. And she had almost caused that man to die as well. Biroki had wanted to kill him. But he had, thank the gods, had enough control to just scare the man into standing down.
She had lied so many times for no real reason in that one encounter, he had to wonder when else the girl had lied. As he served dinner and looked at her smiling, seemingly innocent face, he was afraid to find out.
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Posted: Mon Apr 28, 2014 5:24 pm
A Private Battle: Mage and Mother Ikkio, Ikuri, Biroki, Zuri, 149 words
The morning after a fight. Biroki had never really had that sort of feeling before. He'd had falling outs, yes, but never with close friends.
And certainly never with someone as intimate as Zuri. He'd managed to get to a cot and sleep, and he was refreshed and ready to continue his work as a healer.
But the fact remained. He had fought with his wife. She was still angry. And he was still right.
He was sorry that he had left his girls alone, but they had managed and he had saved lives.
Those lives would save them all. It worked out. It was better for all of them in the end, as long as the wounded could go out there and fight for their freedom.
Why couldn't Zuri see that? Why didn't she understand?
This was bigger than all of them.
He knew that.
It still hurt.
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Posted: Tue Apr 29, 2014 11:20 am
Liar Child – 1003 words
Biroki's family was diurnal, and so he had taken to sleeping mostly in the night. The girls were starting to wake up more in the darkened times, but they were still mostly active during the day and inactive at night. The problem with sleeping at night is that it cloaked even the canopy in darkness, bringing with it memories equally dark.
The sound of burning flesh... the sound of screams... He remembered very clearly the agonized faces of those horrible men as they faced his wrath. He remembered the sharp, intoxicating feeling of wanting to kill and destroy. He had been without compassion or humanity the, and this knowledge haunted his memories in the dark like ghosts and stole away his sleep. Only Zuri's warm body next to him and the pattering of rain on his roof could banish these memories to the realms of the dead where they belonged, away from the living and from his family.
He was awake again tonight, but it was not the screams of ghosts that disturbed him. It was something very alive, very real, and – somehow – more disturbing to him.
His daughter was a liar.
He had known since a long time ago that Ikkio told fibs. She told them quite often. He had just told himself that it was because she was a child. Children lie because sometimes they prefer it to the truth, and though they should be taught not to lie, it was acceptable for them to do so. But Ikkio lied far beyond where a child should go. Her lies came as freely as sap from a tree, and were as sticky and treacherous.
Her lies, he knew, could kill.
They almost had. He had almost believed her – that the Ice tribe man had hurt her, that he was trying to hurt her, that he was evil. The man had certainly seemed like a wild, vicious animal, growling at anybody who came near. But the truth had been there, and Biroki was glad he had seen it. The man had been seriously injured, and his daughter unharmed save for a few bruises. The man had been protecting his daughter, not hurting her.
Biroki had wanted to believe his little baby girl. He loved her with all of his heart. But in that moment, he had seen that she was lying and that her lies carried with them malice and ruin. For who, he could not say. The ice tribe man? For himself? For his family? For Ikkio? It did not matter.
Even when it was clear that she would not be believed, she had continued to lie. That ws what bothered him the most – that she had continued to lie. He had seen, out of the corner of his eye, a brilliant grin, hidden at his glance. She had lied and lied, and had done so intentionally to cause harm.
He had been resisting the conclusion, but he had to admit that she, his darling child, was not innocent.
He got out of bed and looked into the nursery at the twins, snuggled together in sleep. They looked so peaceful together, his Ikuri and his Ikkio. They looked warm, and gentle, and sweet. They looked like his girls.
But he felt discouraged: This was another lie from Ikkio. There was, he realized now, no peace, no warmth, no gentleness or sweetness in that soul. It was an icy soul, one that he had glimpsed in her yellow eyes – so unlike his or Zuri's – that he had written off as simply their oddness. But he had to admit it now that he knew the truth. He had not been wrong to flinch and shiver at their coldness.
His daughter was evil.
He felt reluctant – sick even – to think it about his own child. It was true, though. His daughter was evil. She lied in word, action, and deed. She played people like puppets in a game, tweaking them here and there. He had seen her do this to her mother, and to her sister, And others.
She had tried to do it to him.
She had tried to make him kill again.
He was her father, and thus it was his responsibility to raise her right... to n** this horror in the bud. He couldn't count on her mother's help – Zuri was wrapped tight around the child's little finger. He wondered how much like her grandfather little Ikkio really was, and how much she merely mimicked to keep her mother reminiscing and pliable. He knew telling Zuri would not go over well. It might even make things worse. If he did something, it would have to be by himself, and be very subtle. He had no desire for Zuri's ire to be manipulated towards him – she was frightening when she was angry. (And sexy, too. But mostly frightening.)
He stood over the bed of the sleeping children as they stirred quietly, and thought about his options. Hurting Ikkio – in any way, shape, or form was out of the question entirely. Biroki could and would never hurt his girls. He had been punishing them with chores and grounding, as his uncle had with him. That punishment was productive in many ways, and still got the point across.
It seemed effective on Ikkio, but Biroki knew he would have to do more and try harder to stop her lies and malice. But he didn't know what to do. He stroked her face gently, and the little, lavender haired girl stirred, her face uneasy. He wondered what it was. What dark dreams did his little girl dream? What dark council did she keep in her sleep?
He banished the thought the second it formed, disgusted with herself. His daughter was not posessed or under the sway of evil spirits. She was just... twisted. A little. And he could fix that.
He had to fix her. Otherwise they were all doomed to fall to her lies.
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Posted: Tue Apr 29, 2014 11:23 am
Light Child – 1010 words
Biroki brought his hand over his eyes slowly, as if wiping away the dark thoughts about his daughter. He really didn't know what to think, other than that Ikkio was dangerous and he was afraid. He didn't want to believe that she was evil - that any child could be truly evil. Yet his mind kept insisting that a darkness lived in his girl, something that he could never understand, and that he needed to try to fix before it became a monster. He didn't think he could fix it.
How had the two twins turned out so different? Had they swapped personalities in the womb in their time there together, collecting dark and light aspects for themselves until they were polarized? Had one simply formed to counteract the other, Ikuri to be the light to Ikkio's dark, or Ikkio to be the dark to Ikuri's light?
For that was what they were, dark and light, truth and lie, night and day, good and evil. They were alike in face and body – like reflections... but like reflections, they mirrored each other as opposites. Ikuri was so unlike her sister.
Biroki looked at her sleeping, innocent, face and relaxed. Here was true innocence and gentleness. Here was true peace. He stroked her soft hair as she slept, smiling down at his darling little princess.
He had promised himself on the day of their birth that he would not play favorites, that he would treat both twins with equal love and care. But Ikuri was, undeniably, his favorite. She had none of her sister's malice, and she told no lie beyond the innocence of make-believe. She had a love of life and the world that Biroki understood very well, and he hoped she would maintain it through the rigors of growing up, because he wanted her to see the world as a beautiful place. As he saw it.
He regretted that she wanted to follow his path of magic. He sincerely hoped that she would find, later, that she didn't want to destroy or kill or harm, and would take the path of a soul linker or a scholar instead of a sorcerer. At the same time, though, he was flattered that she held him so highly, and he wanted to teach her everything he could.
He could not resist the demands of her sweet, large, grey eyes, or her cute little smile. He wanted nothing more than to see her happy. He wanted to wipe away any and all sorrowful tears that might chance their way down her face. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right and to make things all right for her. He wanted to hold Ikuri in his arms and dance with his daughter through the flower-speckled jungle to the tune of her laughter and joy.
He was completely under her sway, and he knew it and loved it. She was so like him - gentle and kind, but also so like her mother - strong and beautiful. She was their daughter in ways Ikkio was not.
He wanted to see her grow up into the amazing young woman she was fated to be. Hehe would surely be beating young men and women off with a stick and eventually one would be hers. He wanted her to stay a child forever so that he wouldn't have to cry like a baby at her wedding.
Zuri, as his wife, was half his being. But Ikuri had taken the other half of his heart. He was hers, at her beck and call, and he would adore his little baby girl until the end of time.
Which was why he had to protect her. Ikkio snuggled up to her sister, but he knew there was no real affection in that child's heart. The very person who Ikuri had been born with could destroy her. He was sure that, if Ikuri was threatened or harmed, it was likely to be Ikkio's fault. Ikuri got into trouble only when her sister was with her. They got out again, yes, and had fun. But it was only a matter of time before Ikuri found herself in trouble again. It was only a matter of time before they – or just Ikuri – would not be able to escape trouble. He had to protect her from the malice that slept beside her.
He didn't know how to do that. Ikuri loved her sister, and it broke his heart to see that love returned with a calculating, yellow look that did not speak of love returned. It frightened him how close his light was to that darkness, and how there was little he could do to stop it. Could he tell his daughter to stop loving her sister? He could not. He didn't want her to stop loving anything in this life.
But that love, pure as it was, could hurt her, and he was afraid. He knew it was up to him to protect her – Zuri would be of no help. As he had – regretfully – played favorites, so had she. Ikkio was hers – or, rather, she was Ikkio's, under the sway of those cool yellow eyes and that soft voice that flowed around you, rich and sweet and thick like syrup. A voice that had an agenda and motives that a little girl should not have. Ikuri's voice was sweet too, but innocent like the chirping of the musical insects and the cool waters of a burbling stream. She had no motives beyond the moment. She was not her sister.
No, Zuri would not be able to help. It was up to him to protect his daughter, his precious treasure, his Ikuri. To make sure she grew up to be strong – strong enough to weather the weight of the world, and strong enough to resist and defy her sister.
He kissed her forehead gently before returning to his own bed. He believed that she could do it. He just had to help her.
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