...Friday, May 2nd, 2008...
Crossposted here. [X]
Crossposted here. [X]
The morning had started out like any other morning for one Syrelia Balcombe. She had gotten up to the sound of her alarm clock -- that incessant beeping that she swore would drive her mad one day -- and threw on her bathrobe over her night clothes to meander off to brush her teeth. The routine carried her after that to the doorstep of her tower home.
The young woman's home was rather different compared to most, but then she was different and she enjoyed that fact. It sat on her family's estate, one she now proudly called her home after her mother stepped down as the head of the household and her middle sister, Marilyn, took charge. The Dying Tower -- what Syrelia affectionately named her home -- sat not too far away from where her sister made her home in the family house and she would often spend her time over there when she was not busy with her summoning spells or brewing and mixing rather noxious smelling concoctions. Oh, there was nothing better than the smell of newts' eyes boiling over an open fire.
Syrelia prided herself on being a witch, which, on Gaia, probably isn't much to brag about because strange beings like that come a dime a dozen, but she loved it and goshdarnit if she wouldn't take pride in that fact.
Fuzzy slippered feet finally carried the young woman to her destination and she stood over her stoop, peering groggily down at a large sack of mail sitting on it. This was how it was every morning, a rather impressive looking pile of mail roughly stuffed into a leather sack. Syrelia received mail from all Gaia over and then some, and read every single piece, including the Sunday paper. Especially the Sunday paper. That was her favorite, Sundays.
But there was something off about this arrival of mail today. For one thing, it was significantly more heavy when Syrelia tried to pick it up and for another, it moved. Something inside of it was squirming and she hadn't seen that since someone sent her a squid two years ago. (And she would like to add that that particular squid, Harriet Floundersworth, is now happily living within the ocean surrounding Gambino, thank you very much.)
The moving caused her to have one of those moments where all you can do is freeze up and stare. Good lord, what if it were a shark this time?!
It took her only a second to recover and, wiping her nose nonchalantly on her bathrobe sleeve, nothing actually there, Syrelia stooped down and untied the mail bag, peering inside when out tumbled a little golden figure wrapped in beautiful, soft looking fabrics.
There was another of those heart freezing, statute like moments in which all Syrelia could do was look down at the figure who had now neatly gathered itself into a sitting heap, perched cross legged on the stoop and staring right back up her.
They stared for a long time.
And for a longer time still, until...
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... 'Kay." That was about all Syrelia could manage. Really, what else are you to say when a kid falls out of your mail bag onto your front doorstep? Welcome in, little one, have some tea? That seemed rather trite in her opinion, so she popped out the other response instead. It worked, right?
The child continued to look back, not saying a word. It was kind of creepy, whatever it was. And that was when Syrelia noticed the rolled up piece of parchment next to the kid. Tentatively she reached out to take it, almost expecting the thing to bite her arm off and prance with it through the orchard, but nothing happened and the paper was safely in her hand.
She read it.
And read it again.
Then one more time.
One more time because she could not have read that right, nope.
Oh, no. That was right. Well, crap. What was she supposed to do?
According to the letter, this thing was a god of Peace. It was raised by the Myrimikan Monks. And it really was an it, though the writer of said letter referred to it as a "brother." Oh, yeah, and its name was Jorophyth, a name which looked like someone just threw some letters together to make a passing name. And by passing, not passing at all by any sorts of normal standards.
No, but really. What was she supposed to do?
The realization dawned on her after a few seconds that she didn't have a choice in this. There wasn't a bone in her body that could bring her to just leave little Jorophyth on the stoop for whatever evil thingy it was out there in the universe of other evil thingies, not mention the child starve or freeze or be eaten by a pack of wild wolves or something like that.
With a small sigh, she extended a hand to the child who took it without hesitation. "Well, buddy. It looks like it's you and me now, huh?"
