[J] Akakios :: Lament

[A Wandering Esper]

Second Thoughts

The meeting had been... Tense. Yes, tense was probably the best way to put it, and Lament was glad when he was simply able to slide away, ducking below the room's collective radar and making it outside, back to the spot where Tei had taught him the basics of archery.

It had gone better than he personally expected – he had expected someone to complain about him going along, and that had not happened. But still... He could not help but be a little nervous at the mix of emotions that had ran rampant in the room, most of which he was rather unused to. The tension has been so thick that one could have been able to cut it with a knife, or at least it had been, for him.

He positioned himself in front of the dead tree that had become his target – and that now bore endless notches upon it's dry bark – without thinking much about it. The god's mind was elsewhere, still focused on the meeting he had just left, and what had been revealed there.

There was indeed much more than he had thought to this... And perhaps it had been naive to think that all there had been to it had been what Tien had initially told him. It made sense – there was no use to tell him everything if he was going to be here for when she planed to speak of it... Especially as painful as it was. And it was painful – her words, her stance, every little movement that she had made had all but screamed it for him. She had laid her past – the good and the bad – bare for all those who were gathered to see. Akakios actually was not certain he would have been able to do the same, if he had been in Trickery's position.

Did he really have his place in a matter like this ? This was... Well. Grown-up stuff was the best way to put it. Events that happened long before he had existed. There had been plenty in the room that had experience, who actually knew how to fight, that could certainly do much better than he possibly could. So why him ? Obviously the others wanted him along, but... He was uncertain if he could actually accomplish what they seemed to expect of him.

Make her lament for her crimes...

Sure, the witch deserved it... But would he be able to do that ? He was not the vengeful kind... At least Akakios did not think so, but he had yet to be truly wronged, yet to be put in a situation that would make him know for sure.

For all that Lament looked like an adult, he surprisingly knew little about himself beyond the familiarity of a library, of a work desk, and an endless sea of paper.

Maybe he could say something came up, with his mother perhaps ? Or simply be honest. He would prefer to be honest.

An arrow was wordlessly notched into place, eyes narrowing slightly as a realization came upon him. That was... quite hypocritical, was it not ? How he found himself stifled by his parents' aoidei attempt to constantly baby him, how he constantly claimed that he was old enough to take care of himself.... And now this ? Why was he even considering this ?

It was not something he could pick and choose at. Either he wanted to be treated like an adult, or he wanted to be treated like a child. To pick and choose according to the situation was, well... Immature. Did he want to be seen as immature ?

No, he did not. He had given his word, said that he would go, and that was that. Lament could only take his word back if he had a valid reason to do so, and the fact that he was scared or anxious certainly was not a good reason.

Fear and anxiety was like anything else – it could be tamed, and it could be mastered. But at the same time, he would not promise to do something that he was uncertain he could actually accomplish.

The arrow was finally released, and it cut through the air in a straight line, ending a few inches up of his intended target. That was good, at least. His accuracy seemed to be getting better and better with every shot, through he knew that moving targets would be a whole different ballgame.

And so he settled into his routine of the last few days – aim, shoot, gather. Aim, shoot, gather. It was the only thing he could do to keep the anxiety at bay.  

[A Wandering Esper]

The First Part

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Into The Labyrinth ?

 

[A Wandering Esper]

To Telgar (Eventually)!

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Forgotten Prince

Mystery had left to join the others a long time ago, but he had stayed put. The bottle had been returned to the guards, and every now and then, Lament could catch some odd looks sent at his direction. Likely the men were wondering why he was up so late, and why he was not going to bed like the others had. Well, they would figure it out soon enough as word spread. For now, through, he could not be bothered to put up a pretence, or to deal with it himself.

One day. One day in this world and he was already losing whatever grip he had on himself. What the hell was wrong with him ?!

Of all the things they had to poke at... Of all the possible things that could have been said, why did it had to be a subject that was tender to begin with ? Usually he would have put on his pretence and

Get a hold of yourself. Lament grumbled to himself, and reached for the stack of dry wood to his left to feed the fire. The flames rose, nourished by the fuel and the air flow, and they danced, waved back and forth in a motion that was quite hypnotic. It felt like he might very well lose himself in it if he started at the dancing flames for too long.

Why had it strung this badly, anyway ? Maybe because Tien had looked a little too proud of her shoot... But... No. No, there was no way she could have known. Why should she ? Echo did not talk of it, unless the matter came up directly... And Nergal hated her, as far as Crys had told him. Even if he had been around, he would not have talked to her.

Tien and Enji had no idea how things were at home, and how badly he had needed to escape it. They did not know, and if they had known... That joke would never have come out. Both Enji and Tien were good people – they would not set out to harm him on purpose. Not on something like this.

No matter what he tried, nothing seemed to cure his mother's sorrow. And how could he ? He was not his father.

Nergal might as well have ripped her heart away... And Echo, as always, would forgive him, if he ever resurfaced again. She always did, and the youngest son had no idea how she actually managed to. It was either sheer force of character or complete stupidity... But love was blind, as many said.

Himself... He was not sure he could do the same. Twice he had been promised.... and twice the promise had broken. Twice now he had be put aside, and now it looked like he had been outright forgotten.

The man that had once called him his young prince, the man he had once looked up to with such childlike love and devotion... Had vanished. He would not even answer Ankou, of all the gods that could seek him out.

Well. It was not like he ever needed his father at this point. Lament liked to think that he had proven that well enough with the steps he had taken so far. The only thing he wanted was for his mother's broken heart to mend... And he knew that would not be easy. What had been broken could never be put back together exactly the same as it had been. There would always be cracks.

And that why he had decided he would never be like his mother. Lament had decided that he would never put himself in that position to begin with. He would keep his heart to himself, so that no one would ever break it. If he did not let anyone know him so deeply, then he could not be broken so completely. At least, in theory he figured that would work.

It was not like he was a stranger to loneliness, either. He could live perfectly well without... any of that.

It was that mask, he knew it. Not the mask itself, but the feeling that had clung to it. It was unnatural, and he could not help but feel put on edge by it. It ruffled him in the worst kind of way, and he simply did not have enough clues as to what had happened, and who had been involved. Lorinia was of course the prime suspect, especially after what Armond had said. That particular fact had far from gone unnoticed from Akakios at all.

But how ? How ? It made no sense. How could Lorinia do something like this ? To force a feeling to take over an object was not even something he had even done ! He had taken from people, yes, but people generated those feelings – how could an inanimate object with no will be overtaken by sorrow ?

It made no sense. It made no sense at all, and he did not like this. It put him on edge just to think about it. But how could he explain it ? If he could not make sense of it, how could he make the others understand ?

No, he needed to be certain, first. Lament needed to have a good grip on the situation before he could make the rest of the group understand. He needed more proof... Proof that he would hopefully be able to gather before it could be too late. The lack of information was worse than any of the frustrations Akakios had felt while shut into the library for hours, prowling book after book often for days on end for information that might not even exist.

Now, the danger was very tangible if he could not figure this out. If Lorinia truly had power over emotions like he thought she did, then he was the only one that could possibly do anything about it, the only one she might not be able to mess with. He was sorrow, was loss, and it was not some pretender to godhood that could best him in his own playground.

Or so he hoped, at least.

One thing was certain, through – he had to pull himself together, and do his best not to be caught off-guard again. When the others would wake up in the morning, he would simply act as if nothing had happened.  

[A Wandering Esper]

Spiral City Of Traders

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Meeting The Locals

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Aftermath And A Show

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Actions And Consequences

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Trickery's Fortune

So there had been a show promised last night by those who had went to the tavern. Which was both a good and bad thing.

The good thing was that it would make their cover move believable – it would set a precedent as entertainers and help ease any suspicion, which would hopefully allow them to fly right under Lorinia's radar.

The bad thing was that he had no idea what kind of 'entertainer' he should be. While there was a chance he might not be noticed thanks to his apparent age, Akakios would prefer not to risk it – and he certainly preferred to feel useful. So that meant that he had to think up of something, which was not as easy as one might think at first glance.

As far as his actual powers went, there was little he could do that would be physically tangible, and that mortals could easily understand at first glance. Writing very fast would not exactly be impressive to a crowd looking for entertainment, and his second ability, while useful so far at picking up the invisible clues the others partaking in this journey would overlook, would likewise not amuse a crowd much. So that aspect had been put aside as a viable option rather early on.

The young god could certainly manipulate his mana to do all sort of other things... But he would rather not cross the line from entertainer to mage, as it might attract the wrong kind of attention. The fact that his 'parents' would likely be unable to accomplish similar facts was also likely to come across as suspicious. At least, this was his gut feeling on it. He had little idea how 'magic' worked for mortals, if it was passed down the bloodline or if a mortal could learn to master it if they were determined enough. There was also the issue of age – he would likely be considered too young to be too skilled at most of anything, as the form Lament has taken still looked to be young and learning. The prodigal child option would catch even more of the potentially bad attention, he felt.

Some sort of storyteller was his next idea. And it could have easily worked in his favor. After all, Akakios had read – and transcribed – so many books, some of them mortal legends, and he remembered enough of many of them to retell them, and had the imagination to fill in the blanks himself. He was a writer and storyteller by heart, and while laments were obviously his forte, Akakios could easily think up other genres if he focused a little more on it.

But again, there was the issue of age – how could a child his age know so many stories - enough stories to remain interesting for the span of time required ? Lament could not make himself come across as older than he was without blowing his cover as Tien and Enjiron's child. Which meant his repertoire would have to be really basic and simple... And well, he was not sure if he could actually avoid slipping. So that option was put aside for the time being.

They had stopped to make camp about an hour ago – and Akakios made sure his feathered mount was settled and fed before heading back to explore the caravans. He had been allowed access to whatever was not a private caravan by Armond, in hopes that the young god would find something – be is costume or an idea – that he could use. Lament had nothing against rummaging through the contents of said caravan. While most would have seen most of the content of the caravan as interesting as best, and junk at worse, it was not the case for Akakios and his curiosity. Every dusty corner, every closed chest was a treasure that was waiting to be discovered. There were likely objects here that most had forgotten where even there, and he would be the one to discover them.

There was a great deal of clothing, various outfits and costumes that he could easily shift slightly to make fit. But first, he needed to figure out what his next role would be... Which was strange. It had never occurred to him before to be anything but himself – through now he could see the uses of it. Be it to blend seamlessly into the environment or to get closer to mortals that might have been either unwilling or too shy to address a god directly. Lament figured he was doing a little bit of both, right now. He had yet to show his true self to the other blades here. It was part experiment, as he wished to figure out just how long he could stay in one form for. So far, he had not felt like he was straining to keep his shape in the least. The other reason was that he had no idea how the mortals would react, even if he was far from the strangest-looking god around. Through they had taken to Taj well enough...

The chest he was digging into was mostly filled with textiles, but once they were carefully put aside for the time being, a small wooden box was revealed, and carefully relocated to his lap. What could be inside this... ?

The latch of the wooden box was carefully undone, and inside... Were cards. Long cards of heavy card stock, with printed black backing. The first card was flipped...

...To reveal the first card of the tarot – the magician looked back at the unsuspecting god, and he could not help but smile, amused by the irony. It was the card that reminded Cosine of him, as his aunt had told him as she was explaining the tarot deck to her – numbered cards of cups, wands, swords, pantacles.... and characters.

The magician meant new ideas, the reveal of new thoughts and concepts.... And perhaps it was his aunt's influence that made his eyes widen as the idea struck him, and he checked the cards. The major arcana was all there... As were all four suits of the minor, and the court cards. The cards had some wear to them, showing that they had been used once – by who, he had no idea, and no mean to tell – but they were definitively useable.

Akakios knew the meaning of the cards, and how to draw them. Cosine had been more than willing to sate his endless curiosity on that aspect. But he had never truly tried to draw cards.... And therefore it was not something he could come across as especially skilled at.

A young teenager, one who enjoyed the unknown and the unseen... Drawing his first cards for hopeful coin, striving on some level of independence from his parents... The story came to him now, and his role was clear – and as far as he could think of it, perfect.

Even if he might have to apologize to his aunt later. Hopefully the goddess of Numbers would not be able to feel the many ways he was bound to screw up – be it on purpose or not. Hopefully Cosine would understand, if it was the case.

The cards were returned to the wooden box, and now Lament turned his thought to the many textiles he could remember seeing. Now that he had settled on the role of a fortune teller... The next step was to look like a fortune teller.

This would be out of his comfort zone, but oddly enough, Lament found that he was looking forward to the challenge.  

[A Wandering Esper]

Ef Vitale Srif or The Time of Fire

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Fire Hawk

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Revelations

Even if he had the habit of sleeping, Lament doubted he would have been able to do so this night. There were too many thoughts running circles into his mind.

Once everyone was asleep - or so he thought - he made his escape. He opened the window and made his way to the roof. He simply needed to be alone now, and to think. The others would understand... or so he hoped.

Lorinia, and what she had done... Odd that, perhaps, he owed her his life. Had she not killed the previous Lament, then there might have been enough of her to be reborn. Would he exist then ? Probably not.

And yet there was no comfort in that knowledge. His own existence seemed to be as drenched in sorrow as it could be - the result of a madwoman craving power that was not her's, age ago. His actual birth, as the world was slated to end - an end that was barely avoided, though back then he had not known as much.

They did say that the sorrow in her eyes was so heavy that it could be seen even though the veil she wore. Kevin's words echoed in his mind. But I figure that when all you know is to write endings...

Was he like that ? He was so often told that he always looked somewhat melancholic. But was he truly ? He thought he knew how to be happy, but did he really, or did he only think he did ?

Could he be the same as his predecessor ? And yet now he was faced with fighting the woman who had killed the previous Lament - who surely had been stronger and more experienced than he was. It seemed like an impossible task in itself.

And yet, worse than that, was the realization of exactly why Lorinia had bothered him so much. She had the previous Lament's power - the power that was the same as he wielded. The things she did were things he could have been able to do, as well.

It was that potential that scared him. It scared him so much that he had no idea how to even put it into words. She was so utterly wrong in so many ways and yet any of the things the witch did were things he had the power to do himself.

He likely had the power to be even worse than Lorinia, even. It was an horrible thought he kept pushing away and yet it kept coming back to the forefront, no matter how he simply did not wish to think about it.

He used to think his power was a good thing, that as bad as it could seem to be in the first glance, in the end things get better - people would cry, people would grieve, and then they could move on, continue with their lives.

Now, Akakios was forced to realize that power was not innately good or bad - it depended in whose's hands it was. It depended on what you did with it. This was a revelation he could never unsee - something he could never forget.

On that night, Lament lost a part of him that he would never truly be able to get again. He had understood something he could never truly forget - and he realized as such.

On that night, he found himself crying not only for a woman he had never, and would never know - but for himself, as well.  

[A Wandering Esper]

Lament's Sorrows

 

[A Wandering Esper]

On The Path Of Confusion