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 Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 9:00 pm
 Kyreth scanned the rows and rows of books, his head tilted to the side so he could read their bindings better. One hand was shoved casually in his pocket, while the other traced the shelf with a pointed finger tapping each book as it passed. He'd heard some other students mention an older book dealing with mythology and he figured it'd be an interesting thing. He wondered if it was about old gods or mighty warriors or such. Unfortunately, the witchling only managed to overhear the author's name, but not the title. He really had no idea what the book was about specifically, and he kinda hoped this "Barcemi" didn't have his own row of books, or he'd be here all afternoon. "Babari, Badresh, Banum, ah! Barcemi" he grinned, pulling out the only book under that name. Good! That makes it easy. He made a bee-line towards the nearest table while he inspected the cover. The title seemed to be in a foreign language, but underneath it someone wrote in ink "Immortality" boldly on the cover. Kyreth scoffed, thinking it rude to deface someone's book, even if it was helpful in a way. He sat down, flipping to a random page, skimming through it while looking at a few pictures. It seemed to be about a creature he'd never seen before. The text inside was conveniently in the local language, and said something about drinking the beast's blood to gain eternal life. He chuckled at the thought. Was such a thing even possible? He flipped to another page; this one detailing a rare crystal, thought to give its wearer immortality. Scratching his head, he couldn't quite understand how it could naturally have such magic. It was mind-boggling, and the boy became absorbed in the text, oblivious to anyone around him.
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 9:55 pm
 Sigmund figured the library at Makai Royal Academy must be his favorite place on the entire campus, given the amount of time he spent there. The collection of tomes and texts didn't exactly shock and awe with its size, but the breadth that it managed to cover with the diminished number truly astounded the boy. This library was a concentrated treatise of the occult and the mystical, beyond what non-witches could comprehend, and it fit his research needs like none other that he'd ever experienced, outside of his sister, Niamh's, private collection, of course. But those books unnerved him, with their fixation on death and what came after.
Sigmund sought after eternal life, and the books in Makai's library made him feel far more optimistic about the outcome of THAT quarry.
He'd come to the library today for more than just taking notes and reviewing what he'd read. He'd heard tell from a source that he trusted that a book which fit his interests EXACTLY had slipped under his nose without his even realizing it. An antiquated book had apparently been struck from the more up-to-date catalogs, but from what Sigmund had heard, Barcemi's collection of folk legends and old myths that concern immortality was still very real, and still sat on the very shelf, free for anyone to pick up. His intention for the day was to get his hands on this tome and have something of a field day, and obtain as many leads for later research as possible.
With a loose sheaf of paper tucked under his arm, a pen tucked between the fingers that held the bundle together, Sigmund paced determinedly down the aisle of the library where Barcemi would be located, next to Banum... and was distressed to find the book wasn't there. A space for a phantom book sat between its neighbors; it hadn't been taken long ago. Sigmund wheeled on his heels, looking around the library for a student who might have picked up the book just before Sigmund had arrived. After a time, he laid eyes upon a boy who had engrossed himself in a novel in much the same way that Sigmund normally engrossed himself when he was interested. He recognized the handwriting in the book immediately: Another language that he didn't quite understand, but was learning, in order to read Barcemi's works.
The slightest hint of a smile touching his lips, Sigmund stalked toward the nearby table where the studying student sat, loathe to interrupt but too excited to care. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling up a chair across the table, “But that wouldn't happen to be Barcemi's treatise on immortality in mythology, would it...?”
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 10:17 pm
Kyreth jolted out of his daze at the sound of another's voice. He instinctively slammed the book shut, as if he were just caught reading pornography or something. Not that he owned any, of course...
"O..oh!" he exclaimed, realizing the situation wasn't so drastic. He took a quick glance at the cover of the book again, having already forgotten what exactly he was reading. "That would be this book, yes. Why, do you need it? I didn't check it out or anything, so it's pretty much fair game." he said, sliding the book across the table to the other boy. His eyes lingered on it, however. As confusing as the concept was, it was still an interesting read; filled with things that probably didn't exist. Though it would be awesome if they did!
He took a good look at the boy in front of him. Deathly pale skin, gray eyes, snow white hair? It took all his willpower not to chuckle at him. He looked like he'd never seen the light of day! Not a freckle on him! Like someone took a big, magical eraser to him and wiped all the color away. Kyreth made a wiping motion on his mouth, forcing himself to keep a straight face and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking so rudely. He guessed he was just so used to being in a family of red-heads with bright green eyes that seeing someone so pale was such a new thing.
Grinning again, he kept the conversation going, "My name's Kyreth Baelthir. Witchling extraordinaire!" he said, donning a random title. Doing such things made him memorable in the eyes, or technically ears, of others.
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 11:02 pm
Sigmund's gaze hardened just a little bit at Kyreth's startled reaction to his voice. That was a very old and very valuable book he was slamming like it was some cheap, mass-produced school textbook that illustrated some mundane subject that held no meaning. That was a certified Barcemi masterpiece, an omnibus that dealt exclusively with Sigmund's life work, not just for the two years past where he'd even known to have a life's work, but for his entire future as well. It upset him a tiny amount bit to see it treated in such a manner.
“You should be careful...” Sigmund's voice took on a sort of gravity and danger, and the eeriness of his pallor and general lack of color shone. “That's... not very good for the book.”
When Kyreth passed the book across the table, though, and his eyes didn't leave it even when Sigmund had placed his delicate fingers upon it, he forgot his brief spurt of distaste. Kyreth knew that what they held between them was a work of mystery, the inner workings of life's greatest and dearest treasure locked within. Or at least, Sigmund assumed he did. He could be misinterpreting; he was really no god with people. “It'll spin your head in circles if you don't know what you're looking for,” he said, not realizing he was reading Kyreth's thoughts, “but if go about it with a plan, it's like a puzzle with tangible rewards. One that I mean to solve.”
His half-smile returned as he offered up his hand. “I am called Sigmund von Rohr, and we can share the book.”
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 11:29 pm
Sigmund's ominous warning sent a slight chill down Kyreth's spine. He made a mental memo to himself to treat books better. At least around this guy...He didn't want to step on any toes here. Though he -was- in a library, so being gentler with the books was a no-brainer.
Kyreth's eyes flickered up to meet Sigmund's when he spoke again. This guy was serious? He really believes these things exist? The red-head wanted to call him a fool, but closed his mouth just as fast as it opened. How could he berate someone with a dream? Ambition? His eyes fell back to the book, something familiar to rest on as he wondered about his own future. Did he believe in anything? What did he have to look forward to? Kyreth envied his new acquaintance, who seemed to have plans laid out already.
The sight of an outstretched hand caught his attention once more, and with an ear-to-ear grin, he took it and shook firmly. Trying to be polite, he asked, "So..I take it you want to become immortal?" while scooting his chair around the table until it was beside Sigmund's. "Can I ask why?" he added, genuinely interested. He wondered what it'd be like to be immortal. Kind of a burden, if you asked him. But there must be some kind of spark to make a witchling never want to die.
"What if you keep getting old?" he thought aloud, only half directing it towards Sigmund. Kyreth's face contorted a little at the thought. Old people were gross enough, but going beyond that a couple centuries? You'd look like a walking corpse. Maybe there was something in the book that was like a 2-for-1 deal. Never die -and- stay young. He commandeered the book for a moment, flipping through some pages to check. Though when none seemed to say it outright, he passed the book back, eyeing the page he left it on. Unfortunately, the author decided to write this one in the foreign language again, and Kyreth hadn't the slightest as to what it said. They should really get this thing translated...
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Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2011 12:46 pm
Sigmund nodded with satisfaction when Kyreth began to handle the book with more care. The first step to becoming a truly learned scholar was to treat books with respect, in Sigmund's opinion. They had a funny way of never forgetting, unlike men whose memories eventually wore out or winked out with death. Sigmund trusted them above all else as the supreme vehicle upon which knowledge should be delivered.
He saw the ridicule in Kyreth's eyes, and prepared to soundly defend himself and his goal, but it melted away before he even had a chance to speak. He held his search very close to his heart, because it was the only thing he could give himself after all the ordeals he'd lived through: the hope for an eternal future, and a furious rejection to the mortality that had tried and failed to take him once. He wouldn't stand to be mocked for his desires, not when he had already begun to unravel the veil that shrouded his answer. He had done more than any scholar before him could ever have HOPED to do: he had chosen to believe in what all others assumed to be myth and fancy.
Sigmund's hand wilted in Kyreth's grip, but he did his damnedest to squeeze back with what little strength he had in his weaker arm. He surprised himself with the vital energy that suddenly surged through him, and managed to match the strength of his companion, banishing the insecurity of a lame handshake.
“You take it correctly,” Sigmund replied, cautiously, “But... I don't know if I'm going to give you my reason.” The interest seemed innocent and genuine enough, but the pale boy still didn't know if he trusted this Kyreth to the point where he'd explain himself. One does well to take great care when challenging death, because one risks inviting the ever-present end to all things when he does so.
“Well...” He relented, though, for he saw no reason to be rude to this boy. He had to make friends eventually, didn't he? As much as he'd like to, he couldn't cling to the tails of his sister's coat, hiding, for his entire life. People didn't exactly take well to those that turned down every one of their questions. “I won't divulge my entire life to you, but I will tell you that I've come from the edge of death... And I'm not going to let it take me, now that I've won life back.”
“Now THAT, good Kyreth,” Sigmund said, in response to the boy's rhetorical question, “Is the correct beginning to a long series of questions, ones that I dealt with a long time ago.” Now he was running into familiar territory, and his reticence and shyness were falling away as his words sped up, though he didn't lose coherence. His fascination, his passion, his devotion to the subject became apparent in the reverent way in which he spoke. “To answer it, you have to think about what EXACTLY you're searching for. Not just adding infinite years to your final life expectancy, but rather stopping your body from aging. And for THAT,” he exclaimed, trying to keep from yelling, “You need a fountain of youth, one of my current quarries.”
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Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2011 6:36 pm
Kyreth always believed you could learn a lot about a person by the way they shook hands. At first he thought Sigmund was a soft-spoken bookworm, and thought his assumption was correct when his hand weakened in Ky's grip. But to his surprise, the pale witchling came back with more force. A toothy smirk played on Kyreth's lips, one of respect. There's more than meets the eye with this one, he thought.
"Fair enough," he said, when refused the answer to his question. He knew better than to prod people for more personal bits of information. After all, he wouldn't feel comfortable telling Sigmund some touchy subjects of his own. Not yet, anyways. And yet, Sigmund let him in on a small hint, so to speak. Edge of death? Kyreth himself once had a small brush with death. Though it was only a minor head wound, his scar still visible on his brow, as a child any sort of injury causing a concussion would be alarming. He thought he'd never wake up again. So he understood the kind of fear or general avoidance of death.
Nodding, he continued to listen to Sigmund speak, another side of him emerging from its cocoon. It was like watching a flower blossom, and he couldn't help but smile as he rested his chin on his palm. He figured Sigmund would be a good influence on him. A nice reminder that he needed to find something to work towards. Maybe if they became friends, they could go on an adventure, a quest of sorts, for this 'fountain of youth' he's mentioned. Maybe then he'd finally have a story to tell that wasn't made up!
"You're an eccentric sort, I like that!" he said, patting the white-haired witchling on the shoulder. "But what do you plan on doing for the rest of your eternal life? What's next?" he asked. It seemed like the search for immortality was already a lifetime achievement. Anything after that seemed to pale in comparison. Whatever came after had to be bigger, better than the dream before. It only made sense...
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Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2011 12:22 pm
As Sigmund watched ridicule fade into admiration, he chuckled and coughed in embarrassment. Normally, he hid his true emotions deep within himself, putting up a facade of silence and apathy in its place while feeling and color raged and churned beneath the surface like the boiling ocean in the depths of a storm. When moments of great passion took him, though, his humors would bubble over and burst to the surface. It left him feeling terribly exposed and vulnerable, even if he enjoyed being able to express himself more than anything in the world. The greatest expression of vitality is the burst of positive emotions like anger or happiness.
“Eccentric?” Sigmund paused, and thought the word over. Off the beaten path, not normal, contrary to popular belief. Yes, he supposed he couldn't deny the label, because his very nature made him so. What normal person tried to shrug off the mantle of their own mortality? Surely every living creature with the capacity to think had considered the idea at one point or another, but how many of them went to the same lengths, devoted so much energy to the cause? He was abnormal in the most literal sense of the word, being that he rejected normality to become something more. And a trait like that was valued, was it not? People admired that sort of individuality.
“What's next?” Sigmund looked at Kyreth as if the answer was the most simple, obvious thing to ever exist. “Who cares? I've got eternity to figure it out, don't you see?” Why make plans yet? He would worry exclusively about getting there for now, and once he'd attained his goal, only THEN would Sigmund begin pondering over what to do with his hard-won prize. To be honest, he didn't really think he'd care.
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Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2011 1:01 pm
Kyreth burst out in a laughter slightly too loud for their setting. He clasped his mouth shut after hearing a stern shushing from the librarian and chuckled a little bit more.
"You're exactly right! Hell, you've got all the time in the world! Though I suggest something like world domination" he joked. It seemed like a popular choice for immortals. "But every good demi-god needs a side-kick right?" he added. Immortality wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but friends help each other out, right? And ever since his accident, he had been lacking in the friendship department. "Right! So let's do this then!" he said in a vigorous whisper. His fist shot up in the air as he grinned in excitement. He hoped Sigmund wouldn't mind his help, if he could help at all. If anything, the boy could use moral support. Surely most others would think this to be a lost cause, like Kyreth did at first. But seeing such ambition could make a believer out of the red-head. So if there was anything he could do, he'd do it.
"So how close are you? To finding this fountain thingie?" he asked, his knees bouncing under the table. If he were a mononoke, his tail would be wagging. Searching for a fable screamed adventure, and Kyreth wanted to be right in the middle of it.
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Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2011 5:30 pm
Sigmund started at the sudden outburst of laughter, caught off-guard. This Kyreth was... extroverted, of that he could be certain. Full of questions and gaiety and fire. Normally this sort of person would grate against him, and if it had been any other occasion, Sigmund would have left a great deal earlier than he planned to at that moment. As it stood, Kyreth had managed to stay tolerable by continually asking questions that reminded Sigmund of his own beginnings, when he first started researching.
“Side-kick...?” Sigmund was beginning to think this boy was romanticisizing the concept, turning eternal life into eternal power. Sigmund wasn't very concerned with power, though he imagined it would eventually come as the centuries passed. World domination... While it sounded pretty enough, to rule the planet, the boy didn't want to push his luck. He did believe he'd eventually find a way to extend his life indefinitely, but he didn't yet know in what form, or even the side-effects, and he sincerely doubted that once he'd obtained his final prize he'd be immune to death entirely. Tempting fate with delusions of grandeur tended to entice fate into bringing a pointy, painful demise. Why throw his life's work away to become the villain in a fantasy novel?
Sigmund nearly laughed, himself, at the sight of Kyreth, who looked ready to jump from his chair and run off into the wilds so fast the soles of his shoes would blaze. “Not so fast, Kyreth.” Sigmund reached into his jacket and extracted a small journal that was nonetheless rather thick. He patted it with great affection and placed it gently upon the table, allowing his companion to inspect it for a moment. Bound in scuffed, worn, warm leather, it looked to be hundreds of years old, and as far as Sigmund knew, it just might be. On the front covered, a simple sigil was embossed: A great serpent bent into a circle, its mouth fit entirely around its tail. He opened it after showing Kyreth the cover, revealing pliant pages that looked thousands of years younger than the bindings.
The pages weren't just filled, they were COVERED in tiny writing that ran from the very edge of each page to the inner margin, punctuated only by diagrams. Page after page filled with notes so meticulous and neat that they looked as if they'd been printed, instead of handwritten. Sigmund took great pride in his aversion to mistakes in writing, and had never needed to scribble a single note out.
“This is everything,” he said, with something like reverence. “This is everything I've learned, all the sense I've made out of things so far. I've had several leads on possible fountains...” He paused, and deftly flipped the pages to reveal another long list of notes, coupled with a diagram of an ornate fountain.
“Most of them, however, turn out to be nothing more than highly-oxidized spring water, good for helping the body repair, but not what we're looking for. That's why I was looking for this book! To hopefully find a new lead on the subject.”
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Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 12:27 am
Kyreth's eyes had been wandering the room, focusing briefly on other students minding their own businesses. At the sound of his name, they flickered towards the journal that Sigmund pulled out, intrigued once more. The boy was easily distracted, and even in brief pauses between sentences, he'd find his mind wandering. But the journal seemed to put a spell on him, so to speak. It forced his attention on it. The book seemed at least as old as the one he'd picked from the shelf earlier. What kind of secrets were written on its pages?
And the sigil on the cover itself was a mystery of its own. Kyreth had never seen it before, and naturally his curiosity was peaked. "What does that mean?" he asked, like a young schoolboy learning a new word. He pointed at it, his finger just a centimeter away, unsure if the book was too sacred to be touched directly by him.
And then there were the notes inside. He squinted and leaned in. Who could read, let alone write, such miniscule words!? And with such neat handwriting! Kyreth's own writing was more like chicken scratch than literature. It was practically a code only he could decipher, and it drove his instructors batshit.
"This is..." he paused, shaking his head in slight disbelief, "impressive, to say the least!" Page after page after page after page. He could barely see the paper under all that ink. Kyreth rubbed his mouth and jaw, almost making sure it didn't hang agape. "I-i-i-I don't know what else to say.." he shrugged, taking the tome of immortality into his hands, gently of course. He rifled through some pages and added, "Let's get started, then. Let's find this thing, right?" with a boyish grin.
He flipped the pages, smoothing each down after it settled. His fingers would always end up at his lips after each turn of a page, as they usually rested when he was thinking. He couldn't read most of the text, since the majority was in some ancient language. But pictures were universal, and eventually he found one that vaguely resembled a fountain. It looked more like a geyser, really. He slid the book closer to Sigmund, so he could get a better look.
"Can you read any of this? Picture looks...sort of like a fountain...maybe. More than all those other things anyways." he said, shrugging again. He really was a novice at this. At researching in general. But he couldn't help but get caught up in Sigmund's ambition. Dreams, determination; what a grand thing to have! It was probably one of Kyreth's favorite things to see. And before he knew it, the witchling was grinning again.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 1:16 pm
Sigmund put on a knowing smile and flipped back to the cover of the book, millions of pages that couldn't have been there flattening into nothingness as the strange magic that bound the book hid them again. He placed a fingertip upon the symbol and used it to trace around the familiar old serpent, running the soft flesh along the grooves and embossments that made the thing so complex, despite being a simple shape. Kyreth wanted to know old Jörmungandr, hmmm? Another good time for Sigmund to flex his encyclopedic knowledge on such subjects.
“This,” he began, leaning forward a bit, as if to lend his words confidentiality, “is Ouroboros, though he's been called many names, from Atum to Quetzalcoatl. He's been given many meanings, but I like to believe he represents infinity.” To tell the truth, the Ouroboros meant more than just infinity, but Sigmund didn't quite know how to put it into words to make it understandable. The snake which eats its own tail... It represented the cyclic nature of things. It has no beginning and no end, merely turning upon itself for as long as time exists. To Sigmund, it represented the sort of eternal life that can never be extinguished by the paradox of its own nature. He didn't want to risk mincing his words and feeling awkward, though, so he left this unexplained. He opened the book back up to show Kyreth the contents again.
Sigmund's fingers tightened around the book in an instinctive gesture of protectiveness at Kyreth's words. He couldn't read sarcasm very well, so he assumed when most people put emphasis on a single word that normally conferred a positive meaning, they actually meant it in a negative way. When Kyreth called his book 'impressive,' he felt like he'd been hit with a little flak, and he tried to keep the hurt out of his eyes. Did this Kyreth think him strange for his meticulous note-taking? Yes, they walked the fine line between dedicated and maniacal, but Sigmund didn't think he was so odd for keeping them... He didn't know how to respond, and didn't know whether he was taking things in the COMPLETE WRONG WAY (he was.), so he kept his mouth shut on that thought too.
Sigmund was still brooding when Kyreth spoke up and asked him about the book's language. He hid his upset from his voice as he answered, softly, “The language is long dead, but I've been teaching myself. Give it to me, and I'll see what I can find.” He reached out and placed his fingers upon the book, tugging it gently out from under Kyreth's own hands, turning it to look at it himself. He placed his own notebook beside it, on the right so he could write as he read, and began quickly looking back and forth from Barcemi's tome and a blank sheet in his own book, which began to fill up rapidly with notes as he read and re-read each page, occasionally turning back and forth in either to cross-reference. This was his realm, the land of books and knowledge and the written word, and soon enough he'd forget he'd even be upset.
He'd be in this land a little longer, so he left Kyreth to his thoughts while he delvedi nto his own.
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Posted: Thu Mar 29, 2012 11:33 pm
Kyreth, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, rocked in his chair ever so slightly as he listened to Sigmund explain Ouroboros. A creature with many names? When it came to mythical beasts, Kyreth always assumed it was the real deal if multiple civilizations had stories on them. Ouroboros must exist somewhere then, and the thought of it sent electric chills down his spine. How cool would it be to meet such a creature. He wondered if it would give wishes or something. A boy could hope.
Sigmund's following silence made Kyreth uneasy. Did he say something wrong? He could never tell how to act around others the best way. He continued rocking in his chair as he scanned the book, unable to sit still both from his excitement and his anxiety. He even rocked a tad too far for a moment but luckily caught the library table in time. Needless to say, it didn't stop him from rocking despite nearly making a fool of himself.
Finally, he asked his question and was a little saddened by the answer. A dead language? Why don't people still use it? It still exists, it should be spoken! Just like any foreign language. The very concept of a full language rotting away, its fingers gripping Sigmund just to hold onto life, bothered Kyreth and forced him to forget the awkward silence from before.
Still musing over the language, he studied Sigmund as the other studied the book. He found himself suddenly sitting still, watching the witchling's tunnel vision. He could practically see the gears and cogs working in his mind, the way his eyes darted between tome and notebook, his hand writing effortlessly and simultaneously. So focused, Kyreth was hesitant to speak, to break this marvelous concentration. His voice cracked a little as he spoke, "Do you- you think you could teach this to me? The language?". Admittedly, his main reason was so he could use it like a secret code, always a child at heart. "I mean it feels weird, like you're doing all the work, and I'm just twiddling my thumbs, along for the ride.." He wanted a purpose, wanted to contribute. He hoped Sigmund would understand his motives were genuine, though born mostly out of boredom with his still-water life.
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