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Water 06 lost (and found)
(Kyvan and Caira)

He found her hiding in a dark alley, right behind the tavern, all curled up in a little ball, a shivering bundle of misery. It was pitiful, really. She couldn't have been more than three or four years old.

It made him mad, honestly. Waking in the middle of night to thumps and cries, leaving his tavern room to search out the source, and finding a filthy child huddled against the side of the building, trying to avoid the rain. He growled, clenching a fist at his side, tail snapping from side to side angrily. It made the tiny child jerk, and huddle closer to the side of the building, trying to shrink into the shadow...and watching him with impossibly wide, frightened eyes the whole time.

He knelt in front of her, reaching out with a clawed hand...and she whimpered, trying to scoot further away from him, and only managing to look even more pathetic and lost. Who could abandon a child like this? Just thinking about throwing out a helpless thing like her made him sick. He forced down a growl, and finally spoke to her. "Shhh now. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

A short time ago, in what was already beginning to feel like another life, he'd longed for a child. A family. It would have been perfect. She had wanted a child as well. This little waif in front of him was not his flesh and blood. Not his responsibility. But how responsible could it be, just leaving the girl here? She looked half starved. Not to mention scared to death.

He reached out again, and this time a tiny voice reached his ears. "Promise?" Gods above, she sounded so young and innocent. What in the world had happened to such a tiny thing, to leave her out on the street? He spoke again, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "Of course, I promise. Now come here, little one." He wondered what her name was. Or if she'd even gotten one before being tossed out on the streets.

He'd find out later, he resolved, as a tiny bundle of soaked and shivering child climbed into his arms. He stood up, wrapping his coat around the precious bundle as a tiny voice said, "Thank you." He paused for a moment, looking down at her, her tiny face pressed against his chest. He smiled, and gently ruffled the girl's grey hair. Someone had taught her manners at some point. Had that someone thrown her out? Or had something happened to that someone? He blinked away the moisture in his eyes, and shifted the light weight in his arms. It didn't matter.

She was his now, and he'd be damned before he threw her out.


Aether 36 Precious
(Kyvan and Caira)

Staring at the tiny child standing in the middle of his room, dripping on the floor, he decided the first priority would be getting her clean. He wasn't sure if her hair really was grey, if her skin was really that dark, if the tattered smock she wore was really that odd shade, somewhere between grey and black. And, to be entirely honest, she smelled. Not her fault, obviously. She looked up at him, managing to look hopeful and pitiful at the same time, blinking her odd yellow eyes at him.

"Your eyes are funny." And then she looked down, fidgeting uncomfortably. He chuckled lightly, and she looked back up at him, looking somewhat bolder. "But they are! One's green, and one's blue. It's strange!" He smiled at her, shaking his head. He'd always liked having bicolored eyes. Everyone used to say it was cute. Memories tugged at him, like they always did, and he ruthlessly reburied them. It hurt to dwell too long on the past...and he needed to take care of a certain child in his room.

"Come along, Caira. Let's get you cleaned up." She had, quite unexpectedly, started talking to him incessantly as he walked back to the tavern. And with every word spoken in that little voice, the vampire had liked the little one more and more. Even though most of it had been the nonsensical rambling of a child, he'd mananged to get her name...and the fact that she had not the slightest idea of where her parents where, and that she hadn't been abandoned. She'd run away from the people who had her. She didn't like them.

And as he filled the tub with warm water, he made another discovery about this tiny girl. (Whom he was beginning to compare to a small pile of dynamite.) "I can wash myself! Go away! Girls aren't supposed to be in the bathroom with boys! Goooooo!" She'd bounced on the tips of her toes on that last syllable, and tried to push him out. He grinned to himself, letting her shove him out. Really, looking at her in the alley, he'd never have guessed she'd have such an ...independent personality.

Looking through the clothes he'd stashed in the little chest at the foot of the bed, the only thing he could find was an old white shirt. It'd have to do for now. He'd get clothes for her in the morning. Laying the shirt on the bed, he informed her that she'd be borrowing one of his shirts for the night, and turned and headed back downstairs.

Being a vampire, he hadn't paid much attention to what the tavern was serving tonight. Hopefully it'd be something little Caira would enjoy. He'd been able to tell exactly how thin the girl was whilst carrying her through the streets. He smiled to himself as he walked. He was sure she'd be a cute little girl, once she was all washed up and fed.

She was precious.


Air 82 protect
(Sasha and Kyvan)

He was too soft hearted, too kind. It might have been alright, if he'd just been a normal guy. But if ever her uncle had been normal, it had been centuries ago, long before even her grandparents had been born. Her uncle was a vampire, and he was simply too kind, too polite, too sweet.

She knew there was something off about her uncle's new girlfriend. Her father had patted her head, smiled at her, and told her it was alright, that her uncle would still have the time to play with her, to dote on her.

She watched as they left that night, seized by an unspeakable dread. Her father had sent her on up to bed, chuckling at her wanting to stay up.

When her uncle returned late that night, half a dagger blade lodged in his ribs, and near incoherent from the shock of his girlfriend turning on him, she'd been shooed back up stairs and ignored. She'd crept back down after things had quieted down, and stared at the bloodstains on the rug. Ignoring the servant's attempts to get her back to her bedroom, she waited for her father to emerge, to say that her uncle would be fine.

And when he finally did, and granted her permission to go see him, she'd sworn to be quiet and not wake the vampire. Creeping in the room, she stood at the side of the bed, silently watching her uncle sleep. His left side was covered in bandages, and he looked so pale, so defenseless. She sighed, then took a step closer, and reached out, brushing the soft grey hair away from his forehead.

She sighed, and tucked her stuffed bear against her uncle's uninjured side, and then, feeling much older than her seven years, she kissed his forehead. Her father told her what happened. His girlfriend wanted immortality, wanted to be young and beautiful forever. Her uncle refused to turn her. He called immortality a curse. She didn't really understand all the things he said about it, but... Wasn't it his choice, too?

Her father always told her stories about brave knights defending beautiful princesses from horrible monsters and all the things that creep in the night. Wasn't her uncle a prince, before he'd become a vampire? She blinked a few times, watching her uncle sleeping peacefully. He didn't deserve to be treated like this. Hurt by jealous people, by people who feared him and what he was. Who protected the princes?

A sudden feeling of fierce determination rose in her, and she put her hand over her uncle's, and spoke in a quiet, serious voice. "I'm going to protect you."

Couldn't girls be knights too?

Aether – 98 – Puzzle

Ilia stared out of the window as the rain lashed against the glass. She sighed heavily. It was early evening on a Sunday in summer, but the rain was like a torrent. The library was closed for the night, and clean, and organised. Her room was tidy and Nette was napping. Parvarti was... well whoever knew where she was? Probably studying with Caine and Aya. Mama was in her oasis, daddy said she needed a lot of rest these days and the water made her feel good. Ilia wondered why. She also wondered why they were decorating another room in their apartment with blue things and why they talked a lot in quiet voices when they thought no one was listening. Mama had been giving her extra hugs and telling her how special she was and how nothing was going to change that too. It was all very strange.

She hopped down off the chair she had been standing on and activated the cameras. There were a few of the clan members lurking around, reading, relaxing. Ah! There! Daddy was in one of his favourite chairs with a big stack of books. He was researching something again. She skipped in his direction, wondering if it was ancient languages or robotics or philosophy this time. Maybe he'd read some to her. She liked to sit on a pile of books at his feet while he read out passages, and it didn't matter what book they came from. She was as happy listening to him tell her about quantum mechanics as she was listening to him tell her fairy tales. She hummed happily, rounding the corner. She came up and looked at the stack of books. Lots of words she didn't know there. Tilting her head she read out the title of the one he was absorbed in.

“A Father's Home Birth Handbook...” she recited. What on earth was that all about? Birthing homes? Oh! It was a construction book! Guyy looked up sharply and slammed the book shut. She was probably one of the few people in the library that could sneak up on him, and only when he was deeply distracted.
“Ilia, what are you doing?” He asked, bundling the book under a stack of forms and papers. Ilia leaned down and pointed at one of the ones in the pile at his side.
“I'm bored. Are you making a home?” She asked. Guyy stared at her for a moment. Odd little android.
“What makes you think I am making a home?” he asked curiously. She had some funny ideas.
“You're reading a home birth book, right? So, I figure, you're birthing a home.” She nodded.

Guyy almost choked as he laughed, causing the little android to look at him with bafflement. It took him several moments to recover from her explanation. She was funny. He reached out and took her under the arms, pulling her up onto his knee. He had a lot to tell her. Despite her current insistence that she was female (he suspected Nette and Parvarti had something to do with that) she really had no idea what the function of a female was.
“Well, it's not quite like that.” He sighed. She looked up at him with wide, blue eyes. “A home birth has nothing to do with making homes. What it means is someone giving birth at home. Or not in a hospital at least.”
“Birth?” The little robot tugged on her shirt as she looked up at her creator.
“Yes. You remember when I gave you that book all about baby animals? Remember the picture of the dog having puppies?” he coaxed. She nodded, then her eyes went wide.
“Daddy! Are we getting a puppy?” She asked with excitement.

Guyy had to stop while he had another fit of laughter. He ruffled her hair and she grinned merrily.
“No sweetie. Not yet. Your Mama is going to give birth soon.” he smiled down at her.
“Mama's having puppies?” Ilia squeaked. Guyy took a deep breath and smiled widely. This was going to take a while.
“No, Mama will give birth to a little person. Like me, and like her. And a bit like you, but biological. A baby, Ilia. A little brother for you. He's inside her right now, but he'll be coming out very soon.”

Ilia took a moment to digest that. She had seen families with babies, there were always lots in the library. But she had never thought about where they came from. As far as she was aware, and it was enough for her childish brain, they simply came from the same place everyone else did. Not that she had a clue where that was either, now she considered it.
“Is that why Mama's belly is big in the mornings, before she gets dressed?”
“That's right.” He nodded. He knew sometimes Ilia caught Kaori before she had a chance to cast the illusion on herself to hide her condition. She knew it might be dangerous for the information to get out.
“How did he get in there?” Biologicals were confusing she decided. “Why couldn't you just make him in the workshop like me?”

Guyy leaned back. He really hadn't want to deal with this conversation yet. He chewed on his lip as she waited patiently for an answer.
“Well...ah... you see, your Mama and I love each other very much...” he began. Ilia nodded. She knew that. Everyone knew that. Even Gaia knew that. “So, I sort of... I planted a special seed in her.” he decided, his cheeks going a bit pink. This would have been easier if she didn't stare like she did.
“How?” She questioned. She was always full of questions.
“Well, that's a bit... um. There's a special sort of hug... no, that's not right.” he ruffled his hair as Ilia patiently sat and tried to make sense of everything. “...like when we kiss... hm. Something grown-ups do...”

It took him a long time, and several diagrams drawn on scraps of paper for her, before he managed to get the whole story out. Ilia's expressions ranged from shock, to disgust to pure confusion and finally, right at the end, a sense of understanding. It was a good thing no one was around, it would do no good to see the Shinigami Master blushing like a schoolgirl.
“So, you and Mama actually... you did that?!” She asked, shocked. Biologicals were really strange! “And you've got... you're not like me and Mama.” So that's what that thing was for. She'd seen it when he took her in the bath when she needed a wash. No wonder he'd avoided answering her persistent questions about it.
“Technically, right now, you're not like Mama either. You're neutral.” Guyy explained. “But you're a girl up here, right?” he tapped her forehead and she giggled.
“You can make me like Mama though, right?”
“Maybe when you're older. You don't need all those bits anyway.” He smiled at her affectionately. Perhaps, if she matured mentally and saw her friends growing up, she might want to look like them too. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it. “Let's go see your Mama and she can let you listen to your brother's heartbeat, okay?” he suggested. May as well let Kaori know Ilia was aware now.
“I can do that?! Can I talk to him?” She asked, hopping off his lap and taking his hand, pulling him towards the lift. They walked together across the empty floor.
“You can, and he can even hear you. But it will be a long time before he can talk back.” he grinned. It was actually sort of endearing how enthusiastic she was. This was going to turn out alright after all.

“Daddy?” She asked after a moment's silence.
“Yes honey?” He replied. There was something going through her mind, he could see that. She had that adorable little frowning pout of concentration she had picked up from her mother.
“If that's how you make a baby... is Uncle Jack going to have Uncle Raven's baby too?”

Guyy almost suffocated as he choked back laughter. Apparently he had a lot more to explain.

Fire – 61 – Winter

“Come on then, we can go to the garden and build a snowman.” Guyy promised the girls. They squealed in delight and jumped up and down. The heavy snow had kept them indoors for a while and they were itching to get out.
“Oh no, get back here.” Kaori giggled, carrying the young boy on her hip. Guyy bent to kiss his son on the head before kissing his wife. “You're not going out there like that.” she chastised. But it was not one of the children she was fussing over.
“Awww mum..” Guyy joked as she set the infant down carefully in his play area.
“Shush. Come here.” She reached out towards him and he approached her contently as the girls ran around getting gloves and scarves, running up and down the corridor just outside the door and shouting merrily. Winter brought out the play in everyone.
“Gladly...” he murmured, catching her lips in a kiss. She slid a thick scarf around his neck and secured it, bundling him up like she would a child. Gloves were forced into his hands and he dutifully pulled them on. He was already wearing two heavy woollen sweaters.
“Oh, you!” she giggled against his lips. “Don't forget a hat. And your jacket!”
“Yes mum.” he teased again, getting a swat from her playfully.

“Why can't I play with the other children?” The boy sighed.
“Snow makes you very sick, remember?” The mousy woman with the wire rimmed glasses explained for the hundredth time that season. The boy's red eyes looked up at her mournfully.
“I'll wear my big coat! I promise!” he pleaded. She clucked her tongue softly.
“And last time the big boys took your coat. Remember?” She sighed. “I had to come get you before you fell asleep in the snow.”
“But I want to build a snowman.” The six year old Guyy pouted, leaning on his elbows and staring out the window at the white world.
“We'll make one together, in the garden. But you have to drink this first.” She smiled, handing him a big mug of lemon and honey tea. He brightened up.
“Really? Aww mum, you're the best!”

Guyy watched the children laughing and running around on the wide rooftop. He poked some eyes in the large snowman they had built together with a heavily gloved finger. Despite being bundled up he still felt a little drowsy. But it was the good, relaxed kind of drowsy. Durem was caught in a very heavy winter this year. Nette threw a snowball at Parvarti, causing the little odd-eyed girl to retaliate with a giggle. Ilia watched them in bemusement, small android hands scooping up a handful of the white stuff and balling it curiously. She was learning a lot of new activities today. She hadn't needed gloves and scarf, but when she saw the other girls getting them she had insisted. It was cute, really.
“Babysitting?” The familiar voice next to him made Guyy look around. Jack smiled at him widely, all wrapped up himself. Not nearly as much as anyone else. He had the benefit of being able to warm himself. Small patches of melted snow appeared around his feet as Jack walked towards him.
“Kind of. I just felt like getting out a little.” Guyy greeted him as he came to stand beside him.
“Don't make yourself ill. Kaori would be mad.”

Guyy laughed. Winter had everyone fussing over him. He nodded and reached out a gloved hand to pat his old friend's shoulder cheerfully. Jack snuggled up to him, resting his head on Guyy's shoulder and smiling to himself. Guyy felt a bubble of warmth cocoon them both. The snow around them melted.
“Thanks.” Guyy nodded gratefully.
“Mm. Welcome.” Jack replied lazily, with his eyes closed. Jack was obviously in a very good mood. “Hasn't been this cold in winter since... ah... been a long time.”
“Yeah, it's been a while.” Guyy nodded solemnly, glad that this time he had people to care for him.

The boy shivered. He was curled up in a doorway. Normally he'd be in a pile of other children, but the street urchins had been moved on and he hadn't been able to follow. He'd ran along behind them as best he could, but eventually the cold was just too much for him and he'd taken rest in an alleyway. When he managed to move again, all the kids were gone. He was alone again. He was used to that of course, but right now he needed the closeness of other bodies. He had only the thin clothes on his back after all. He felt tired, so tired...

He forced himself up. He had to keep moving. Vague memories of sweet tea and warm wool around him. Memories of a caring mother. Memories of blood and screaming.

Keep moving Guyy, keep moving. Don't sleep. If you sleep, you won't wake up. You know that kid, you know that. Keep going. Twelve years old is too young to sleep forever. Keep going, find shelter, find food... find help...

Help...

Guyy curled up next to Kaori on the sofa. She'd insisted on checking him over and wrapping a blanket around him. Now she had him on the sofa, a cup of warm, sweet tea in his hands. She watched him like a hawk to ensure he drank it.
“Really, I'm fine. I just got a little sleepy is all.” He protested, smiling at her. She cared so much. He was warmed from the heart out. Her arms went around him.
“Better safe than sorry.” She crooned, lifting the edge of the blanket and snuggling under it with him. He laughed lightly and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. She giggled. “Your nose is cold!”

Her fingers reached up to rub at the tip of his nose and he laughed, catching her hand and kissing her palm gently. She smiled softly and watched him before she nuzzled in at the side of his neck. They entwined, Guyy enjoying the closeness and the heat of their bodies pressed together.
“Did the girls have fun?” She murmured softly.
“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “They taught Ilia how to throw snowballs. She's a wicked shot.” he laughed. That was why his nose was cold.
“Good. Next time I'll come up with you.” her fingers traced patterns on his chest and he sighed contently.

Winter. At home. Safe in the arms of his wife. Safe surrounded by friends. Snowing outside again. That doesn't matter now. It'll never matter again.

The snow is calming, and beautiful.

Earth – 98 – Funeral

“Run! Guyy, run!”
“Mum! I can't leave you!”
“Run now!”

An inhuman roar. A monster, bigger than anything Guyy had ever seen. And yet, something in his mind recognised it...

Teeth and claws and roaring and blood.

The smash of a vase. More inhuman roaring, howling in pain, howling in anger.

“Run!”

A flash of claws. So much blood. His mother... oh Gaia, his mother...

Guyy woke and sat up sharply, trapped in the sheets and sweating. He gasped and looked around. His bed. His apartment. The library. Kaori was awake, watching him silently where she lay, bright blue eyes shining in the dark. She probably woke up when the nightmare began. She would have been waiting for him to wake from it or still. Her hand was on his pillow. She might even have been using her powers to try and soothe him. He pushed his hair back from his face and took a deep breath, shaking off the cruel terror of childhood.
“Sorry.” He whispered. Her hand reached up to his chest, pushing him gently down to the pillow again. He allowed it, letting her guide him as she made soft, comforting noises.
“Same dream?” She murmured in the dark. He closed his eyes and nodded, relying on his heat sense to feel her. She pulled him close and wrapped him in a hug. No words were needed, she knew what he had dreamt.

Fingers brushed a sweat-soaked lock of hair from his forehead and lips covered his face here and there lightly, comfortingly. A low purr rumbled in her throat, she knew how relaxing he found that sound. It vibrated through her flesh and into his. He let out a gentle breath. The dreams were getting worse lately. It was that time of year. Almost to the day...
“Did you ever say goodbye to her?” Kaori's voice cut through the darkness like a knife. He opened his eyes. Had he? No. No, he hadn't. He'd just ran like she told him to. When he went back, the entire village was gone, razed to the ground. She was impossible to identify among the bodies. They'd stacked them up, like a ghastly monument. He remembered shaking and vomiting and crying. The men there clearing up the massacre, some kind of military he supposed, had tried to take him back with them but he'd been so frightened he'd ran. Ended up in Durem. He remembered Durem, the times his mother had taken him there as a special treat. He supposed that was why he went there.
“You need to say goodbye to her, I think. You should go back there. We'll go back there.” She sighed, taking his hand in hers and kissing his chin gently. “Like we went back to the lab.”

–

They stood, gazing around the ruins. No one had rebuilt here in fifteen years. It was a cursed place, a place of death. A ghost town. Guyy pulled the long coat around himself, shielding himself from the wind. She stood beside him, dressed in black and looking elegant. She had an armful of lilies, a stark white against the black, like her tightly wrapped hair.
“So much death here.” She remarked. She would know better than anyone. Her crystal blue eyes scanned the ruins. He nodded, bit his lip and nervously stepped forward. Someone had erected a hasty cross where the bodies had been stacked. It had been weathered and had fallen over, cracking. He bent down and lifted it back into place, the old wood splintering under his touch. It wouldn't last long. He wondered who had done it. The soldiers? Most likely. And the bodies... no sign of their fate. Perhaps they'd been taken away for study and then either released to families or simply disposed of. His mother had no family except himself and he had no records. She was probably in a mass grave somewhere.

Kaori laid the bouquet of white flowers at the base of the cross and closed her eyes for a moment. He wondered if she was praying, or just meditating. For all he knew she was conversing with other reapers silently. He knelt on one knee and took a single lily from the bundle. When he glanced up she was watching him silently. He stood beside her.
“Zeta destroyed everyone when he realised he'd lost me.” he explained. Kaori listened in silence, her hand on his arm. “Too many innocent people died because of me.”
“They died because of him. And because he was mad. Not because of you.”
He made a soft noise and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her with him as they walked through the wasted village. He brought them to a stop outside a dilapidated cottage. It was small, uncomplicated. Two bedrooms at the most. The door lay in the garden, the windows bare of glass. There were chunks of masonry missing and the roof had almost entirely collapsed inward. Guyy led them inside. It was still furnished, but hardly anything was intact.

Dark stains marred the floor and walls, large furrows everywhere scarred the building. Ancient blood. Claw marks from a large creature. Shards of porcelain.

Guyy laid the lily down over one of the stains and stepped back into Kaori's embrace,
“Goodbye mum. Thank you.” He murmured. Light shone through the window, catching something that had lain against the wall for all these years. He bent and picked it up. Her glasses, shattered and stained. He smiled softly.

Earth – 11 – Madness

She was gone. She was gone. She was never coming back.

Zeta howled to the moon, causing the other Chimera to stir in the safety of their newly constructed huts. Alpha raised his head from where he curled on a pile of furs with his own mate. He stared at the wall, listening to the mournful sound. Zeta was at the temple, he knew. Zeta was always at the temple. Zeta had practically constructed that temple with his own two hands.
“Go back to sleep, my other.” Eta murmured. “He'll quiet down soon.”
“Yes. Of course.” Alpha sighed, concerned for the lowest ranking of his kin. He lowered his head, resting his muzzle alongside that of his mate's. She gave him a soft nuzzle and drifted back to sleep. Many of the others did not wake at all when Zeta cried now. It was a familiar night sound. But she knew how Alpha worried for him.

Mu had suffered terribly for two weeks. She barely woke near the end, when the fever took her. And when she was awake she just cried and howled in pain. None of the others could cure her agony. Not even her mate, Zeta. Not once did he leave her side. Not ever did he forgive the humans and their strange technology that had infected her with some vile curse. She never saw the temple. But she did see the beach, just once, before she departed for the Calm Lands. Zeta buried her himself, laying her broken manacles at her headstone in remembrance. He tended her grave, built the temple and howled for her soul.

He was alone.

His mind began to crack and warp. He would destroy them. He would make the world suffer as he suffered.

Cloudchaser gasped and opened his eyes. Such pain racked through him. Pain in his very soul. He gazed with his golden eyes on the older, scarred male who sat in quiet contemplation opposite him. Zeta, having returned and preparing for his death gradually, was still lost in meditation. The teenage shaman had forced himself out of the trance. His gentle soul was wounded by feeling even a fraction of the bloodmadness Zeta had within him. The madness he was trying to control. For a moment Cloudchaser felt a little awed at how well the older male was doing. Had he felt the entire breadth of his companion's madness he would never have returned sane, he knew. This was built deep into the psyche of every Chimera. Even their distant relative, Oroborus, knew that madness.

“Uncle.” He stated to the elder. Zeta let his eyes open, staring at the youth. “Can I bring you relief?”
“No, child. You cannot. No one can. I accept my fate now.” Zeta growled in reply. “I must die, to protect my siblings. I must give my life in order to pay for the lives I took.”
“Yes.” Cloudchaser lowered his eyes to the temple floor. They knew that was the only way. The deadly venom of Oroborus hung around Zeta's neck in a vial, a gift from his brother. The only gift he could give him, the chance to end his own life swiftly. It was strangely compassionate of the snake, especially considering Zeta had killed him once, and killed their mother. Large claws cupped his muzzle with uncharacteristic tenderness, lifting his face to look back up at his uncle.
“Thank you for peace, little one. I am sorry I have tainted your pure soul.” Zeta spoke in a quiet voice.

Cloudchaser smiled. If not for the uncontrollable madness in his uncle's soul, it was possible Zeta would have been the first shaman instead of himself.

“You haven't.” Cloudchaser assured him. He felt the massive paw drop away from his jaw. “You have worked hard. We should rest for a while.” Cloudchaser leaned forward and nudged his long pale nose underneath his uncle's chin in a gesture of gentle affection. He could not heal his wounded soul, but he could offer comfort when it was needed. Zeta drew the smaller male against his chest and together, they rested.

Silence.

Silence. Utter and total silence.

Emma Jane sat up slowly, her muscles aching in protest of the timidly made movement. Her hand moved to her back where the central of her bodily ache seemed to be. A grimace turned her lips into a thin line at the blossoming pain as tender bruises met her searching fingertips. Her hands next rose to her head where the pain was sharpest. Against her bald scalp she could feel stitches. Familiar. Bruises throbbed as she explored her skin with ginger touches, wincing as her fingers passed over more stitching, methodically exploring the remnants of the latest round of “research”.

Her feet hit the floor with a soft thud, her small, naked body slowly rising off the white cot. One hand remained on the bed; her weight leaned slightly against it. She was weak. When had her last meal been? A day ago? Three? Six hours? Time had lost meaning. Everything was white.

Everything was Silent.

With a slow deep breath she stepped away from the bed, her footsteps sounding impossibly loud in the quiet. How many months since she had last heard a human voice? How many weeks since she had last heard anything except besides the soft sound of her feet padding against the tile floor? How long ago had she given up on speaking to the whiteness in preference of the lonely Silence?

Because no matter how much she spoke into the whiteness of the room, there was never any response.

The Silence saw to that.

The seamless door disappeared into the wall, rising and revealing another perfectly white room. Emma Jane looked around her room with golden eyes for the cameras she knew watched her night and day. Always the next room opened shortly after she awoke. Eyes once more complacently set in front of her she dutifully walked through the large open door.

The second room in her prison cell, that was what she called it while she was coherent enough to call it anything, was identical to the first.

Blindingly white ceiling. Blindingly white, tile floor. Blindingly white walls. The only difference Emma Jane had ever managed to discern between this room and the first was the furniture that decorated the middle of the room. Her bed had been replaced by a small, square table. Covering the table was the same plain, white tablecloth that always covered the table. On top of the white table cloth was a white plate; the food on the plate appeared shockingly colorful in contrast to everything else. Behind the table sat one white, wooden chair. A clear glass sitting above the right side of the plate contained water.

Emma Jane halted as she crossed under the large door way, taking only a few small steps into the second room. It was large, and she was in pain. Her tired body ached, and the table seemed an impossible distance. Her lips parted to call for help as her legs gave out, the tiles slamming against her knees ripping a gasp of pain from between her lips.

Sound in the Silence.

She was almost shocked as she heard the sound of sobbing in the air. As if she heard the noise before she realized she was the one making it. The tile was cold against her bare skin as she collapsed onto it fully, her stomach heaving from the force of the racking cries leaving her body. She gasped and leaned over in time to avoid being covered in vomit, the bright puddle standing out starkly against the white tiles.

It took some time for the girl to recover her senses. Her breathing gradually slowed, and her cries grew quiet. A few moments more and she had pulled herself to her feet.

Sound in the Silence.

Slowly she made her way towards the table and sat in her white chair. The silver forked felt heavy in her weak condition, but that was hardly concerning to her. Mechanically she lifted the colorful, tasteless food to her lips, chewing and swallowing as she knew she should. Once the plate was cleared she set the utensil down once more with a gentle clink, her eyes sliding over to the pills waiting for her.

She knew the pills would stop the pain.

She had not expected breaking the Silence would stop the pain.
So as she reached for the pills she promised herself she would not be silenced. She would break free from her prison one day. She would find her voice.

Her hand rose to her mouth, followed shortly by the glass of water. She knew what would come next. Already she could feel the strong medication beginning to take its toll. She pushed her chair back and slowly, carefully made her way back towards her room. She had learned long ago not to stay in the chair. Waking in the chair was not pleasant.

Gently she sat back on her white mattress, the sleepiness overtaking her body making her groggy. Her eyes slid shut as she leaned back, laying down on the small bed.

Two whispered words broke the Silence. “I promise.”

Aether – 30 – Rain

The teenager huddled in a doorway and shivered. Even in summer there were days he got no relief from the cold. The heavy rain had easily soaked through his thin, tattered clothing. The material clung to his skin as a gentle breeze chilled him to the bone. His raven black hair moulded to his scalp. The doorway offered only slight shelter. He had been chased away from everywhere else and simply didn't have the energy to try any other potential cover. He was cold, tired and hungry. The other kids avoided him these days. They'd heard he was a killer, a freak. He couldn't help it. He needed to survive, and sometimes that meant defending himself, or doing a little job for a pocketful of cash.

There were other ways to make money, of course, but he hadn't taken those routes. Sadly he'd learned nothing was free in this world. Not food. Not warmth. Not even shelter. He raised his head, ruby eyes scanning the streets. The rain kept them mostly empty. There was a single figure walking up the street, an umbrella shielding the blond hair from the pouring rain. He looked like one of those people busily on his way somewhere important. He knew that kind. No time for people like him. Just scorn. He was probably going to a job, or to some kind of education, or to meet someone, Maybe he was meeting a date.

Guyy lowered his head and coughed out a little scorn. Rich fools and their easy lives. If they had any idea what life was really like, if they ever really saw the waifs and strays trying to scratch out a living from their scraps then they wouldn't -
He stared at the ground. Or rather at the tidy shoes that had stopped in front of him. The rain had relented a little. He glanced up in surprise. He looked up into the healthy face of a boy around about his own age. Faded rubies met turquoise for a moment as they regarded one another silently, the blond's umbrella giving them both shelter for a few minutes. Guyy wondered what was going to happen. Maybe he just wanted to look. Maybe he thought Guyy was the person he was supposed to be meeting.

Suddenly the other teenager surprised the snake by silently holding out the handle of the umbrella towards him, clearly meaning for him to take it. Guyy eyed it suspiciously. You never got anything for free out here. He stared at the extended hand. Was the kid cruising maybe? Looking for a blow perhaps? The blond shook his hand again, offering it up without a word.
“Why?” Guyy croaked, looking up into his face and seeing it almost expressionless.
“You need it. You're shivering.”

Guyy was indeed shivering. He was frozen. And he had to admit that it felt nice now that the rain wasn't pounding on him. After a little hesitation he reached out with thin, weak fingers and wrapped his hand around the hilt of the umbrella, drawing it close. The blond let go. Guyy stared at it, amazed. His fingers traced the initial carved into the handle. Did he really want nothing in return? He felt a little speechless. It took a moment for his lips to move again.
“Thank...” he looked up. The boy was already jogging down the street, his blond hair now sticking to his own scalp with rain. “...You.” He sighed. No, he wouldn't have heard him. He hugged the umbrella to himself.

A random act of kindness.

He clung to that umbrella, glad it was the sort that folded down small enough to fit inside a bag. He had to fight to keep such a precious commodity, and more than once he was tempted to trade it for a little food or a packet of cigarettes. But he kept hold of it. It was more than a simple umbrella to him. It was proof than not everyone was out to get him. It was a reminder that people weren't always cruel and wicked.

He kept it with him when he was recruited by the Boss, though once he had his own place he never used it. He kept it on a shelf in his room. His own personal random act of kindness. But his time with the Boss and his crew hardened him. The umbrella went into his closet the less kindness he saw in the world. The crueller he became. It was forgotten, ignored. There was no kindness in this world, only pain and misery. The boy had been a fool to give away such a thing, with more money than sense. Guyy felt he should have attacked him and robbed him. His mind was broken, he saw no goodness in himself or anywhere else any more.

Until there was yet another random act of kindness in his life. He wondered how long Jack had saved his allowance in order to buy Guyy's freedom. Years, perhaps. It was a ridiculous amount of money, enough that the Boss knew Guyy would never be able to save enough, not with his addiction eating at him, not with the fact he earned no actual money. But when Jack had presented him with that money on that rainy day and told him to leave, he was stunned. Jack cried and pushed him out the door, forcing him to confront their wicked master.

He never got a chance to return to his room. He had to leave everything. The Boss was so angry he had him escorted right out the gates to take his bought freedom. He barely had a chance to look up at Jack's tear stained face as he stared out the window. He wished he could go back for his umbrella. His first random act of kindness. Maybe the world did have some good in it still, after all.