|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 09, 2006 11:11 pm
Quote: Fire-child, star-child, what is Kel? Sword-bearers, song-weavers, that is Kel. They played without words, with only the rhythm of their hands and the weapons, flesh and steel. The rhythm was as old as time and as familiar as childhood. The game had more meaning than the act, more than the simplicity of the words. The Game of the People, it was called. Dawn-child, earth-child, what is Sen? Rune-makers, home-leaders, that is Sen. A kel'en who flinched, whose eye failed or whose wits wandered, had no value in the House.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 09, 2006 11:29 pm
kel'en Merai Forgotten's Name: Merai Forgotten's Gender: Male Daemon's Name: Simplicity Daemon's Species: Typhonic beast
Forgotten's Appearance (Physical): Like the mri his Document speaks of, the Forgotten Merai is golden-skinned and golden-eyed, with bronzy hair and pointed ears. Epicanthic folds give his eyes an exotic look. He looks perhaps uncannily human, differing only in little particulars (the second set of eyelids beneath the first, the unusual length of his limbs and digits, the sharpness of his senses, the little lynx-like tufts of hair on the tips of his ears) just enough to seem utterly alien as well.
Even at a very young age, Merai will wear the black of the mri warrior caste. Boots, pants, tunic, and flowing over-robe (as here). He won't have little metal ornaments; those too will come with time, as will the swords. Also, he will at first go without the head-cloth, veil, and visor. (This is not so much out of choice than as an infant first spit out by the Library, he won't have the coordination required to arrange the wrappings as they should be.) In their place, he'll have a light scarf woven with gold, white, and blue threads and sewn with curling runes in black. From his first appearance, he'll have six objects always with him--two throwing daggers the length of a grown man's hand, two thin metal wands of rougly the same length, and two fist-sized smoothed pebbles.
Though he will not when he is young, by the time he's out of childhood, Merai will have the seta'al--three blue-dyed scars at either outside corner of his eyes, across his cheekbones. (Ideally, his acquiring the scars would be a part of a growth quest.)
Forgotten's Appearance (Traits): Merai is a study in contrasts when it comes to how he holds himself. As a child, before he determines to wear the veil of his adopted caste, he will never be caught without a smile. Shon'ai is a joyous game; even though a slip may mean death, even the warrior Kel rejoice in its playing, and dying in the Game is considered as honorable as a death in battle.
At the same time, he will be closed and sober around "outsiders", those who aren't Forgotten, prefering to keep his feelings hidden. Some of this sobriety translates over into how he holds himself--keeping his head high and his back straight, always on the alert for an attack. Despite the usual smile and amusement at the world around him (not sarcastic amusement, but simple innocent joy of those who can live in the moment), Merai will never quite stop being wary of that world.
Daemon's Appearance (Physical): Of all the Egyptian deities represented by animals, Set's totem is the hardest to characterize. The beast isn't quite a jackal, though it has a canine body not unlike theirs; nor is it really an aardvark, though it is a rusty red like the aardvarks of the desert, with their more rounded ears, powerful neck, and down-curving snout. Unable to discern exactly what the creature might be, scholars of ancient Egyptian mythology have settled on the name "Typhonic beast" for this animal, emblematic of Set--troublesome god of the desert, of chaos, of storms.
Simplicity is a Typhonic beast. When she first comes into the world, she'll be no larger than a kitten. Her paws and hoof-like claws, much like those of an aardvark, will initially be awkwardly large for her small body, lending her a somewhat clumsy look, especially given her slim, canine legs. Her ears are long, but bear little resemblence to the ears of a jackal or of an aardvark, instead being quite unnaturally squared off. Though her snout has something of the downward curve of an aardvark's, she has a jackal's nose and jaws, with a carnivore's teeth. Her tail is more like a jackal's, forked about halfway down its length to give two ends to it.
While she's still young, before her coat of short, dense fur has grown in, she'll be very sparsely furred and her overall coloration a reddish one from blood vessels near the surface of her skin. (Her tail is the exception here, being covered with a downy fluff.) She has/will have the marking scheme of a black-backed jackal, but until her fur actually grows in, this will manifest as a vague black shape on her face and back. She'll wear a scarf like Merai's--it may look a little silly, but it keeps her warmer than she'd otherwise be.
The color of her coat may have some surprises once it grows all the way in, but those will depend on how she and Merai choose to settle the inevitable rift between them.
Her eyes are the color of polished white gold.
References: Young Aardvark, Set the Typhonic beast, Black-backed Jackal
Daemon's Appearance (Traits): Where Merai's good humor seems absent of malice, there's definitely a mischevious gleam in Simplicity's eyes. She is a canny beast and forward with her emotions; she's happy to approach people and demand attention, and isn't afraid to make her displeasure known when she "must". As a young creature, she'll likely hold herself with a tense sort of caution, being very awkward initially. As she grows, she'll gain considerably more poise.
She always holds her head high, and it's rare to catch her without her tail in some sort of expressive motion. Her ears are another good indicator of how she's feeling. The only sounds she ordinarly makes are quiet sighs, huffs, and choughs of breath, though she may screech in moments of extreme duress. When speaking to Merai or other daemons, she couches her words entirely in rhymes--less sophisticated when she's young, gradually improving as she ages to true poetry.
Forgotten's Personality: Distant and xenophobic, Merai will never open up to strangers, and will always consider most around him quite strange indeed. He will initially be distrustful with all outsiders, preferring the presence of his own "kind", in this case the Forgotten, to the presence of humans. His guardian is the only outsider he will believe actually means him any good--and that, only provisionally, at first. He dislikes being touched, dislikes having to show weakness before outsiders, and is very closed with most of his emotions. Early in life he may well find another Forgotten he connects with and become quite attached, treating him or her as a sole confidant and friend, to whom he will be more open.
Over time, and depending on how others treat him and to what lengths his guardian goes to demonstrate that there are trustworthy non-Forgotten out there, he may grow to be... Not quite as open as Simplicity, but definitely more trusting of those around him. Still, he'll always be a little more inclined to at the very least tolerate other Forgotten, and likely to prefer their company over that of others.
Merai's major weakness is his resistance to change. Actually, it might be better to say that he has an absolute refusal to change his ways, barring a world-shaking event that forces him to adapt. Though shon'ai is played by all three castes of the mri, in this, Merai will be most like the Kel, who dig in their heels when forced to be other than what they are. Very early on, he will begin to define who and what he is--and what he is not--and cling to that definition throughout his days. This has an advantageous side to it as well--it will be nearly impossible to get him to succumb to peer pressure, and one will always be able to count on him doing the honorable thing. On the other hand, his refusal to do most household chores, or learn to read or write, will quickly become tiresome and unacceptable.
However, Merai's attempts to cling to only one part of his metaphorical "heritage" will hinder his growth. Bereft of a social context, he will be unable to rely on anyone--not his guardian, not really Simplicity given her fickle nature--to give him the support he requires to live as a kel'en would. Therefore, he will need to learn to be self-contained, adopting the roles of all three castes to be truly balanced--but even if he makes this realization, Merai's innate stubborness means he'll resist it with all his will. Eventually, Simplicity may wear down some of his resistance to changing, and in turn, he may wear down her resistance to being tamed... At which point the pair will grow to accept who and what they are, though perhaps only in part.
It's a distinct possibility that over the course of his development, Merai will lose some of his mri social traits entirely. After all, anyone can play the Game so long as they understand the ideas behind it--and Merai and Simplicity are more representations of that concept than they are strictly mri. The idea of casting oneself into the future, the dark, without knowing what the ramifications might be, but being ready to meet them when they come--that's the beauty, and some say insanity, of the mri way of life.
Daemon's Personality: Simplicity is inwardly as twisted and knotted and complex as her appearance, and the god she resembles. She is neither a force for good nor evil, representing instead the necessary state of disorder all things move through in the course of their existence. Representing instability and disorder,
Excerpt:Quote: Fire-child, star-child, what is Kel? Sword-bearers, song-weavers, that is Kel. They played without words, with only the rhythm of their hands and the weapons, flesh and steel. The rhythm was as old as time and as familiar as childhood. The game had more meaning than the act, more than the simplicity of the words. The Game of the People, it was called. Dawn-child, earth-child, what is Sen? Rune-makers, home-leaders, that is Sen. A kel'en who flinched, whose eye failed or whose wits wandered, had no value in the House. How does the excerpt affect the pair?: It is important to note that the excerpt itself is a description not really of the mri as a people, but of the playing of the Game. The central concept behind Merai and Simplicity is that Game--the idea of choosing to cast oneself into the future, trusting that you'll be able to meet whatever comes, and revelling in life as it meets you.
This isn't something the two Forgotten will arrive at immediately--and may not arrive at at all. There's an inherent conflict between Merai and Simplicity--a force seeking order versus the necessary disorder required for change--that may obscure who and what they actually are. The fact Merai outwardly resembles a member of the mri race may lead him to believe that his eventual goal in life is to become one of the People, something Simplicity will actively resist if only because it's in her nature to do so. The harder she digs in her heels, though, the harder her Forgotten will pull in the opposite direction.
Engendering a constant friction between the two, this struggle will foment a great deal of character development as both of them, tied at the soul as they are, attempt to resolve it--without giving any ground, an ultimately futile gesture. Only time will really tell if they come to embrace the concept behind shon'ai... Which of a necessity means letting go, giving way, and trusting that you'll be able to catch what's thrown at you.
What does it reveal about..
.. their past?: Merai--the Merai of the story--was a warrior leader who was bound by the law of his people to kill or be killed to prevent the annex of his tribe by strangers. Lacking any other option and given no way out by his leader, he died in a challenge for honor and in so doing became a martyr to a cause that would ensure his people's security for generations.
.. how they are now that they are "reborn" as a Forgotten? [For example, do they take the words to heart, or do they believe they write their own path? etc.] .. their future?: [Is it a prophecy? etc.]
Powers, talents, special traits?: Merai doesn't have powers, per se, outside of some unique and decidedly alien traits. His reaction time will always be a split-second faster than that of even a trained human; his senses, especially his hearing, are much keener than a human's (though this doesn't necessarily make him more observant--that's something he'll need to learn how to do); the nictating membrane of his eyes protects them from bright light and blown dust; he is more resistant to extremes of cold and heat and aridity than a human would be. Despite how thin and delicate he appears, he's actually very strong.
He's also a very quick learner. It doesn't take him many repetitions to pick up a new task, especially when it comes to weapons and vehicles. He's good with knots and rhythms, and acquires spoken language rapidly. He'll try his damnedest not to learn to read or write, however. Time will tell whether or not this is successful. Without really knowing how, he also "remembers" many songs of the People, including the beat by which shon'ai is played.
In Simplicity resides most of the unusual power of the pair. Put simply, she is a chaos engine. When she is very young, before she grows into her paws, this manifests as tiny things--small bits of paper will shiver to dust before they come anywhere near her, mechanical devices that spend too long in her presence develop bugs or errors, and the air around her is never totally still, tossed in constant chaotic currents.
As she grows, her sphere of influence--that constant zone of wild, overheated winds--will grow with her, though she will know instinctively how to control it if she must. Eventually her powers will be such that she can cause small manmade things to fall completely apart if she touches them, and larger things--cars, refrigerators--will develop serious problems in her presence. Tiny objects will merely explode in a puff of dust or be brushed aside by the winds around her.
She cannot harm living things in this way, nor once-living things still in a somewhat natural state. A dead stick would be immune to her abilities; a planed and joined wooden floor would not. Uncarved bones could be used to hurt her, but a wired-together skeleton would fall apart as the wires spontaneously unravel.
Merai will always know how to put back together things Simplicity's influence has destroyed. This extends only to returning to their previous state (if possible), and only for things Simplicity has broken. He is hindered by the bounds of his knowledge of the tools required to repair such a thing; a screwdriver he might be able to master through trial and error, but repairing finicky electrical connections with a soldering iron would be out of his league. Similarly, explaining these things to someone who could fix it is always limited by his knowledge--not "the fuse needs to be replaced and these resistors rewired" but "this thing is dead and it needs another one, and these two things are connected wrong; THIS is how it should be". He cannot repair things like paper, which would be irretrievably destroyed by Simplicity's powers.
Other important qualities: Other important concept details: Despite the fact they will quite often find themselves opposing each other over a diversity of issues, Merai and Simplicity don't hate each other. Quite the opposite; he adores her and she him, though they both have very funny ways of showing it. They may not LIKE each other a lot of the time, but they do love each other, and a lot of their tension in the relationship arises due to their mutual need to reshape their loved one into a more "acceptable" creature. Simplicity wants Merai to unbend and live life, to truly cast himself without worrying about propriety; Merai wants Simplicity to stop being so ruthlessly destructive and malicious, and instead take a "proper" role by his side. [more later]Wind-child, sun-child, what is Kath? Child-bearers, laugh-bringers, that is Kath.
Fire-child, star-child, what is Kel? Sword-bearers, song-weavers, that is Kel.
Dawn-child, earth-child, what is Sen? Rune-makers, home-leaders, that is Sen.
Then-child, now-child, what are we? Dream-seekers, life-bearers, we are--
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 09, 2006 11:38 pm
A Short Dictionary: The Mri Language a'ani - the rules of honorable (i.e., single) combat among the mri.
ai - a term of acknowledgement.
as'ei - short, palm-length throwing blades used by the kel'ein in combat. Shon'ai among the Kel is played with the as'ei.
av'en-kel - the long blade of the kel, the kel-sword. Traditional and usual weapon of a kel'en. Plural av'ein-kel.
av-tlen - the short sword borne by kel'ein, sometimes wielded opposite the av'ein-kel.
bu'ina'anein - presumptuousness, invasion of territory, especially where it concerns the she'pan or other leader.
cho-silk - a fabric known to the mri, like spidersilk in its clinging properties.
daithen - son, whether of blood or as of the relationship between a she'pan and her Children of her tribe. Derivatives: tsi'daith', not-son, a term of repudiation.
dus - the ursine dominant species of the planet Kesrith, traditional companions of the Kel from that world. Telempathic, resistant to most poison or injury, and having a dangerous poison of their own. Plural dusei.
Edun - the citadel-like home of a tribe of mri. Plural edunei.
eshai'i - lack-honor, an insult among the mri.
hal'ari - the High Speech, the well-conserved ancient (and formal) language of the mri. Hal'ari does not change, or changes only a very little, during the Betweens; a mu'ara dialect is substituted instead of pollution of the hal'ari in order to keep up with the need for new terms.
ika'al - ritual suicide, usually to avoid or address dishonor to a kel'en.
j'tai - honors, or ritual tokens given to a kel'en and worn on his robe as a symbol of his accomplishments. Usually metal.
Kath - childbearers, children, and homemakers, responsible for the upkeep of Edunei. They wear blue, and play shon'ai with rounded stones. Kath'ein are exclusively female and children under the age of consent; men who do not go into Sen or Kel die. Outsiders do not see the Kath. Derivatives: kath'anth - leader of a tribe's Kath-caste; kath'ein - a group of Kath.
ka'islai - a game of knots played by all castes. It requires weighted ropes, and involves the weaving of intricate mandala using those ropes. Derivatives: islan - a pattern used in ka'islai.
Kel - the warrior caste of mri society, the Face That Looks Outward. They wear black, and play shon'ai with blades. Kel'ein go veiled among outsiders. Derivatives: kel'anth - leader of a given tribe's Kel-caste, assisted by the kel-second; kel'ein - a group of Kel; kel'en - man of the Kel; kel'e'en - woman of the Kel; sov-kela - "brother in Kel", see entry.
Kesrith - the last homeworld-of-convenience of the mri who journeyed out from Kutath. Kesrith was a marginally viable, a world of thin air and alkaline desert.
Kutath - the original homeworld of the mri, shared with another humanoid race, the elee. It orbits a dying star, and is itself marginally viable, being mostly high desert and extensive cave systems.
komal - a drink, presumably fermented or alcoholic, that acts as a soporific.
mez - the traditional head-wrapping of the Kel; includes a veil, so that they may cover their faces.
miuk - the madness that overcomes a dus who is sick or injured, or whose kel'en master has died. Not unlike rabies, although it appears to be an entirely psychological disorder. Derivatives: miuk'ko, a dus who has been lost to the madness.
mri - literally, "the People".
mu'ara - the common speech, an agglutanative mri language common to a tribe or group of mri. Usually includes adaptations of tsi'mri words from the race a tribe is in service to. The mu'ara of a given Between is forgotten during the Dark in favor of the hal'ari, the High Speech.
Pana - the Mysteries, the Holy. Guarded by an entire mri tribe, only the she'pan has access to these, which contain the history of the tribe and the entire mri people.
Sen - the caste of priests and scribes. The Sen wear gold, and play shon'ai with wands. Some of them were formerly Kel. They are celebate, and outsiders rarely see them. They are the only mri who learn to read and write. The she'pan is drawn from their ranks. Derivatives: sen'anth - the leader of a tribe's Sen-caste; sen'ein - a group of sen; sen'en - a man of Sen-caste; sen'e'en - a woman of Sen-caste.
seta'al - the three blue-dyed scars that mark a mri as a true member of Kel-caste. A kel'en is not truly considered a member of the caste until he has the seta'al. Derivatives: tsi'seta - unscarred, of a kel'en without the seta'al.
she'pan - the Matriarch of a mri tribe, the spiritual and often military leader of the Edun. She is celibate, as is Sen, and wears white. When two mri tribes come together with the intent to merge, one of the she'pan'ei must die, as does her kel'anth. Derivatives: she'pan'anth - a term coined exclusively for Melien s'Intel Zain-Abrin, who became she'pan of all she'pan'ei on Kutath; su-she'pani kel'en a'anu - the she'pan's kel'en, who fights for her personal honor in inter-tribe warfare. May or may not also be the kel'anth.
siga - a kel's robe.
shon'ai - from the mri verb shonau, "to pass". The Passing game, the Game of the People. Played by two or more participants, involves throwing two objects (knives, stones, or wands) around the circle to a set rhythm. Each caste plays it with different objects; only for Kel is the Game regularly risky, as they play with blades.
Shon'jir - the Passing, a ritual chant sung at births and deaths. Also refers to the long voyage between homeworlds undertaken by the entire mri race.
sov-kela - "brother in Kel", closest relationship between any two kel'ein outside of true (or blood) relation.
tsi'mri - literally, "not-people". Any non-mri outsider.
yai - nonsense exclamation, used for rebuking the dusei.
yin'ein - the old, traditional bladed weapons of the mri. Adaptation or alteration of these is impermissable and unthinkable.
zahen'ein - the modern weapons, guns and otherwise. Strategy and tactics with these are updated as the need arises.
zaidhe - a kel'en's visor.We are they that went not out: landwalkers, sky-watchers; We are they that went not out: world-holders, faith-keepers; We are they that went not out: and beautiful is our morning; We are they that went not out: and beautiful is our night.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 10, 2006 12:00 am
Four Words For Peace Quote: Peace was four words in the hal'ari. There was ai'a, that was self-peace, being right with one's place; and an'edi, that was house-peace, that rested on the she'pan; and there was kuta'i, that was the tranquility of nature; and there was sa'ahan, that was the tranquility of strength. Treaty-peace was a mu'ara word, and the mu'ara lay in the past, with the regul, that had broken it. Melein had killed for power, would kill, repeatedly, to unite the People. Would take the elee, their former allies. Would take Kutath. We will have ships, he could hear her saying in her heart. And they knew the way, to Arain, to human and regul space. It was not revenge they sought, nothing so human, but peace-- sa'ahan-peace, that could only exist in a mri universe. No compromise.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 10, 2006 12:02 am
Cee's own, and definitely not Liz-liz quality, scribblings of her Dream Forgotten.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 10, 2006 12:06 am
A Place to Stand Funds--200k Auction Coupon for making the final round in the last writing contest. --Assorted 2006 and 2005 Letters; I'd need to dig them out and check. --19k.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 10, 2006 12:08 am
Aaand this would be about said Dream Forgotten's potential guardian. Hoolay!
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 10, 2006 12:09 am
Quote: You decide on a trip to the house and the Library with your Forgotten and its daemon. Of course, you're not exactly sure how to find the Library because it certainly isn't the same way that you went last time ( not that you can really remember how you got there last time; a few too many accidents on the way ). It seems, however, that the house is up to its usual tricks and somehow, despite everything, you get separated from your toddler.
And then the real trouble begins. You find yourself on a quest within this house that can't possibly be this large ( it didn't look as big from the outside! ) and facing many trials and perils along the way. You must make it through the dangers the tricky house poses and find wherever it's hidden your toddler. It cannot be helped if the house is testing you to see if you're truly worthy of being a guardian. ... or it's really, really bored. Mind your feet as you explore, it does so like sucking them into the floorboards.
Meanwhile your Forgotten and its daemon are dealing with perils and troubles all their own that are being thrown at them by the house. They're trying to get back to you or just get out of the place they've been taken to within the house! Just how will both the guardian and the Forgotten and daemon handle being terrorized by the house itself?--- Time had taken on the quality of molasses when the mismatched trio came crunching up the gravel path to the House's stoop, dripping by in the somnolent warmth of late August. Man, Forgotten, and daemon, the little group cut an unusual sight that afternoon as they stood and gazed up at the looming structure before them. A pilgrimage, Nexeu had called it, and indeed, there was something of piety in their stillness and staring.
The House stared back, or so it seemed to Nexeu; unintimidated, he smiled up at it. "Hello, House," he greeted it, entirely too cheery. "I've brought your foundlings back."
Next to him, Merai and Simplicity seemed out of place--two small creatures dark and sober in the shadow of a pale man full of strange humor. They exchanged a glance at Nexeu's greeting, a thought flittering between them--so strange and our true-father is perverse--before Merai solemnly raised a hand and crooked his fingers in greeting to the house. He remained silent, long grown accustomed to Nexeu speaking for him, and a moment languished in that silence.
Somewhere in the woods behind the house, a woodlark burst into liquid song. Taking that as a cue, Nexeu stepped forward to mount up the steps to the house two at a time. He halted only once, looking back over his shoulder at his charges with a patience that belied his eagerness to get going. Merai gave the stairs a look of distaste--they were much too tall for his short legs--and knotted a hand in Simplicity's fur for balance. Together, under the gaze of their parent, they climbed the steps to take their place beside Nexeu on the stoop; two pairs of eyes--one blue, one gold--lifted to his face, before Merai gave a fractional nod: as if to say, "we're here."
"Then," the mage said to his Forgotten, "without any further ado, let's go." He swung the door open with a sweep of his arm, and the incongruous trio stepped from afternoon light into dusty twilight.
###
The floorboards creaked under Nexeu's tread; Merai and his daemon followed in feline quiet as all three stalked across the antechamber. The Forgotten did occasion to look around them as he walked, one hand still on his daemon's back--the House was a wonder of ancient construction and rambling architecture. Achingly strange and far too colorful for his eyes and Simplicity's much keener view, but interesting nonetheless. As much as curiosity tempted, though, they followed their father as he headed straight for the stairs.
Do you remember the way to the Library? Simplicity asked as they walked, her ears pricked forward. A thought below words colored this: they had better, as little as they liked the idea of going back there, because their true-father probably didn't.
Not that either of them would question him. Yes. Merai frowned; if he thought hard enough about it, the miniscule itch that said (this way to the Library) was still there. Muddled, but there.
"If I remember correctly," Nexeu broke in on the silent exchange between Forgotten and daemon, "the Library is down, and down, and for a change of pace, down a little further. It's a wonder the House hasn't struck oil with all this digging it's doing, though that would explain some things..." He trailed off; stopped.
The hairs on the back of Merai's neck prickled. Simplicity's tail became a brush twice its size, a warning rumble beginning low in her chest. A whisper of noise announced itself from the hallway to their left: a hissing that built to the sound of tearing paper.
"Stairs," Nexeu said, pointedly. "There were stairs here a moment ago. I know there were. I saw them." He started forward again, the floor creaking louder, louder, louder with each step. "And I'll be very displeased indeed if--"
"Wait!" Unable to contain the sudden hideous worry bubbling inside him, Merai started forward. "Wait, true-father! Don't--"
They hit on the same realization at the same moment. Simplicity grabbed the back of Merai's tunic in her teeth, yanking him back with all her strength. Nexeu froze, back stiffening. "Not another step, Merai," he said, quiet and calm. "Stay right where you are."
Dead silence gripped the room. Merai held his breath as Simplicity gradually let go of his tunic. Half a minute passed; the Forgotten let his breath out in a gusty sigh, taking another greedy sip of air and watching as Nexeu stood frozen like a man in a minefield.
Gradually, incrementally, the mage straightened. "Maybe," and that's as far as he got. Cacophony tore the silence in two, the boards beneath Nexeu's feet cobwebbing with fractures with a hideous sound like an onrushing avalanche. He looked down, expression aghast. Then he looked up at Merai, purple eyes full of an ugly calm. Anguished, Merai tried to start forward, only to have Simplicity yank him back again.
The floor gave way with a tremendous *CRACK*, swallowing Merai's father whole.
The Forgotten didn't even get a chance to scream.
He sat down hard, stunned, as Simplicity gawped at the hole where their parent had been. Dust motes danced in the light slanting in from the windows, deceptively peaceful as the floor began to knit itself back together, soundless and smug. Within seconds it was whole, as if it had never given way.
Merai gulped, swallowing a sob as tears stood out at the corners of his eyes. That wasn't supposed to happen! he thought, anguished. If we had been faster--
Don't think in maybes. Simplicity pressed a cold nose to the back of his neck. Merai blinked rapidly, banishing the tears from his eyes. Up, said his daemon, growling low in her throat for emphasis. I can still smell him. We will find him. She nudged him again with her head. Up!
His jaw set, Merai pushed himself to his feet. There were no stairs across from them, just as their father had said. The Forgotten raised a hand to brush a lock of his bronzy hair from his eyes, saying aloud, "We need to find another way down."
Outside, maybe? Daemon and child turned as one to look back the way they came, to see a hallway stretching on toward infinity--and no door. The air in the hall shimmered as with heat; a window erupted on one wall with a sound like tearing flesh, to be followed by several more down its length. Though his view from here was poor, Merai was fairly certain they didn't look out on the summer afternoon outside.
Tears gathered in his eyes once more. They did not have the luxury of crying, that he knew. "We go forward," he said, placing a hand on Simplicity's back. "We go forward and we find a way down." Together, the pair started toward the unfinished hall.
A long red carpet rolled out to meet them, like a tongue in the mouth of some great beast. The hot breath of air that followed dried the tears standing out on Merai's cheeks; and together, he and Simplicity walked.
+++
A pile of cutlery and porcelain broke Nexeu's fall. The mage landed with a crash that echoed in the spacious room, and straightway scrambled to his feet, swearing. Fresh wounds marked his face and arms, staining the white of his cloak; he pulled a--mercifully short!--dinner knife from between his ribs and threw it away with an air of disgust.
"Ow. b*****d," he concluded, and took a step forward to look back up at the way he came from. Shards of bone-white dishware disintegrated under his boots.
The ceiling six feet above his head was smooth as an egg. Nexeu swore again, roundly. He hadn't come here to have the House play GAMES with him, though he could see a certain brute humor in its tricks. He was not, however, in a very funny mood, and so concluded his cursing by kicking a teacup across the room.
It exploded in a hail of fragments and made him feel a little better. But where were Merai and Simplicity? Nexeu reached up to run a hand through his white hair, frowning--not noticing the blood--and looked back over his shoulder. No sign of them there, but then, if they'd had the mischance to land in that, they probably would have set up howling. Even Merai's usual stoicism tended to fracture when he was badly surprised.
The mage looked back across the room; while he wasn't looking, the house had produced a new door with crystal doorknob. It glimmered at him, smugly, in some sourceless shaft of light from above.
Nexeu strode toward it, taking the doorknob in hand and shoving it open. The room it led into was a dead end.
The new door closed itself behind him and promptly sealed. On the far wall, the House began to rearrange the white paint into letters. Would you like to play a game? it spelled out.
"Wonderful. Just wonderful," Nexeu said to no one in particular.
Would you like to play a game?
"Like I've got a bloody choice here!" he yelled back at it.
Would you like to play a game?
He stifled the immediate urge to bring send the entire House up in a towering inferno. Not for himself, but Merai and Simplicity were probably somewhere else in this little maze from hell, and he'd rather not immolate them. Nexeu took a deep breath to cool his ire and forced his usual smile onto his face.
Would you like to play a game?
"All right," he purred. "I'm good at games. Let's hear it."
+++
If the world outside the windows were any indication, Merai and Simplicity had walked from dusk to dawn to dusk again along the length of the hallway, and they seemed no nearer to a door. The daemon had suggested they go back the way they came, only to turn and find the carpet had been rolling up behind them to expose a floor that was little more than a few rotting spars over blackness.
Merai sat down abruptly, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes in an effort to stave off tears of frustration. We aren't getting anywhere! he lamented to Simplicity.
His daemon had turned around to glare at the carpet, which was attempting to herd them along by rolling up against her ankles. She opened her mouth, tongue drawn back, and hissed like a teakettle in displeasure.
The carpet rolled back several inches, chastened. Simplicity stalked forward, still hissing, and it moved again. Once she judged that it had given her sufficient space, she leapt onto it and sat down, pinning it.
It made a noise like a suffocating mouse, unable to move out from under even the daemon's slight weight. She smiled to herself and began to groom a paw. No, she replied at length. Maybe we should find another way out.
Out? We need to go down and find true-father! Merai pulled his hands from his eyes, pushing himself to his feet and heading back toward Simplicity. We need to--
He stopped, noticing something strange out of the corner of his eye. Carefully, so as not to trip on unsteady young legs, he backed up, watching the two windows he'd stopped between.
One led to dawn. The other to darkness. But both very clearly had latches, and he swore he could see a wall on the other side of the window to dawn.
Another way out. He ran back toward Simplicity, leaping up onto the carpet beside her. She mewled, distressed, and slid down toward the opposite wall as Merai stood up on tiptoes. He could barely reach the windowsill, but sunk his fingers into it and held on for all he was worth. The wall was slick and smugly provided little purchase for his scrabbling feet--until Simplicity interposed her head and shoulders, shoving him up toward the sill. Merai struggled to pull his weight onto it and sat down there, breathing hard from exertion.
Simplicity leapt up after him. The carpet, freed, rolled on its merry way--leaving scant floor underneath them if they wanted to go back.
Merai had no intention of going back. He wiggled around on the sill as Simplicity watched, trying the latch of the window.
It was stuck.
That reduced him to tears. He did not cry as other children did, with sobs and wailing; he sat there with tears streaming down his face and made no noise whatsoever as Simplicity climbed into his lap and purred in a desperate attempt to sooth him.
Now they were trapped. He'd foolishly gotten them stuck up here, and they couldn't go through the window like he'd thought to. Simplicity butted her head against his chin, trying to distract him. It's all right, she said, it was a very good idea and I'm sure we'll find another way out from here.
"No!" Petulant, he pushed her. Startled, caught off-balance, Simplicity fell off the ledge and through the rotted floor.
Merai shrieked in sudden dismay, reaching for her as his daemon caught on a splintering plank with her forepaws. She stared up at him with huge blue eyes and gave a pitiful mewl.
Much as it had before, the floor waited for a suspenseful minute before giving way and dumping the daemon into blackness.
Merai felt their bond stretch, and stretch, as if his heart were being torn from his chest. "NO!" He threw himself off the windowsill and fell after her with a scream.
+++
I run, but cannot walk, Have a mouth, but cannot talk, Have a head, but cannot weep, Have a bed but never sleep, What am I?
"A river." Nexeu rubbed at his face. The House's idea of a game was RIDDLES. RIDDLES, of all things. Riddles, for him! Who had made a habit of using them against HIS enemies! "You have no sense of dramatic appropriateness whatsoever," he mumbled to the floor.
The mage was fast growing impatient. He looked up as the words on the far wall began rearranging themselves again--when a shriek of dismay, tinny with distance, tore through the stultifying silence.
"Merai?" Nexeu's head snapped up as he tracked on his son's shriek. Where was he?
My rain--
"A volcano," Nexeu hissed, starting toward the opposite wall. This House wasn't going to play with him any longer, not if his child were in danger.
I am meat, I am wax--
"The human heart." He was fast closing on the wall, and much as he had thought--though he'd been too unobservant to note it before--there was a door there. No handle and no hinges, but there was a faint outline of a door beneath the white words on the wall.
Why did--
"Because," Nexeu drew in a great breath, pulling his hand back and curling his clawed fingers into a fist, "it was STAPLED TO THE CHICKEN!"
The wood of the door was paper-thin and gave way when he smashed a hand through it. There was, however, no knob on the other side--had this been a fool's errand?
The mage rested the side of his face against the door and whispered, "You will not bar me from my son any longer. I'll take you apart starting with this door if I find he's been hurt while you've kept us separated." He curled his other hand into a fist.
"Do you understand me?"
A handle appeared of a sudden under his questing fingers. He jiggled it, shoved the door open and pulled his scraped arm out of the broken wood. Breaking out onto the other side, he ran down the hallway and toward where he'd last heard that scream.
+++
Daemon and Forgotten landed together in a heap of blankets. Merai immediately swept Simplicity up in his arms, clinging to her with all his strength. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her fur, tears streaming down his face once more.
It's all right, she replied, sandpaper tongue licking away the tears. It's all right.
They'd landed in another long hallway, this one darker than the other, and disused. Merai realized he had no idea where they were, and expressed as much to his daemon in silence.
Simplicity, however, had wiggled out of his arms, and stood with her ears pricked forward near the edge of the pile. Footsteps. I hear them, do you?
Merai sat up, straining his ears. "--Yes!"
Was it an enemy? He didn't have long to ponder that before Nexeu--bloodied, battered, but very much alive--burst in on them. "Merai!"
The Forgotten sat bolt upright, before throwing himself at his parent with enough force to knock the man off his feet. They clung to each other for a long moment like that; for once, even the garrulous mage was silent as he simply held his son, eyes closed tight.
"True-father," Merai whispered, "I thought you had died."
Nexeu chuckled, low in his throat. "You should know better than that, mon cher. Not me. Never me."
Finding the Library after THIS seemed like a much smaller task. Quote: As a teenager, your forgotten has once again looked over their excerpt. A scrap of paper with only so many words that supposedly defines who and what they are. This isn't the first time they've questioned themselves, they did so as a child as well, but now there's a desperate edge to the questioning.
Your forgotten is unsure of themselves, of who and what they are and who they could become. They are so unsure of themselves, so confused, that words and phrases from their excerpt keep disappearing and reappearing. Every time this happens, it's as if a piece of your forgotten and its daemon are lost.
Something must be done. Some insight must be gained by forgotten and daemon. They must either accept who and what they are or risk totally losing themselves and any chance for direction in their life. As the words fade away from the paper, so do they and so does their chance for understanding everything.
And there's nothing, it seems, that you can do about it.The creak of the old swing was soothing to Merai; a creature accustomed to silence, it seemed even he needed noise once and a while to reassure himself that his ears still worked. Simplicity lay nearby, watching her Forgotten as he swung more by habit than for the joy of it. Forward, down, back, down--the movement built a rhythm, sure and simple enough to create a life around.
Merai had established himself around patterns--the coming and going of his true-father from their home, the cycle of dawn and dusk, the passage of seasons. For the framework of every day he had built himself a routine, waking and eating and tending to the younger children, then training his hands and his body for a future he wasn't even sure would come, then eating and sleeping once more. Day in and day out, sun-up to sun-down, he had built himself a structure as regular as his heartbeat.
Now all of that was falling apart.
It began simply and quietly. Some vast spellworking of his true-father had pulled Nexeu out of the house later and later until he simply hadn't come home at all three nights in a row. When he returned he was not in his usual good humor, instead snarling and sequestering himself. All the disharmony floating around distressed Simplicity; and what upset the daemon upset her Forgotten, and so Merai found himself tiptoeing through the house in hopes of not disturbing an angry parent.
The mage's talkative nature and black humor were the backbone of Merai's life until then. It showed when they were yanked out from under him; the younger children were no longer so clement while their only parent was angry at the entire world, and so Merai had to deal with more and louder of the usual squabbles. More squabbles meant it was harder to find time for himself, and so training went by the wayside, letting a day's energy build up unused in his muscles and make him so jittery he couldn't sleep. Lack of sleep frayed his own long-suffering temper, making him inclined to snap and Simplicity inclined to use her claws when anyone should cross them. Disharmony increased, and the household seemed to Merai to be rapidly falling apart from a lack of structure.
He pumped his legs harder, fingers digging into his palms as he tightened his fists around the chain of the swing. He pushed himself until he could hear the blood singing in his ears, and feel the pulse of his heart--even that wasn't a constant anymore, skipping every second or third or fourth beat and making him light-headed if he pushed his body too far. Now he welcomed the delirium, if only to offer him some respite from the thoughts that bounced between his mind and Simplicity's, circling like a dog chasing its tail and having no more success in the endeavor.
Scrambling for some form of surety in his life, Merai had--despite his distaste for reading--turned to his excerpt, what Nexeu had called the core of his being. This did not prove the expected balm; instead, much as weight on a broken limb will worsen it, the fragment of text grated against his thoughts, increasing his self-doubt to a point most unbearable. Though things had begun looking up at home within days, Merai's condition continued to slip. Was the order he sought merely a consequence of what some piece of paper said? Was he even his own being, or just some puppet, living out his days exactly as predicted until his eventual end? A kel'en who wavered... The routine he had once embraced became unbearable, until--until--
His trembling fingers lost their hold on the swing's chains, his body betraying him at last. On the next upswing he fell, landing with unwonted ungainliness--a leg half-on the seat of the swing, the other knee on the ground, head bowed as the contraption dragged him several steps backward, forward, back again--until he could with a twist of his entire body shake the trapped limb loose and collapse. Simplicity mewled in distress, knowing better than the force help on him when he wouldn't have it--and still heaving herself to her feet and shoving her head under his chin, trying to help him up, help him breathe.
Take a breath, mine--just breathe for a while, it will make the pain go away, she urged, working her shoulders underneath him. He pushed at her, weakly, then fell away onto his back--staring up at the leaves of the tree the swing was suspended from as they swirled dizzily above him. Simplicity herself had to stop and catch her breath, before giving a wet cough and arching her neck as if ridding herself of a hair mat.
"We ran from them," Merai said, wasting breath and for a moment uncaring. "We ran--" He sucked in another breath, muscles long-denied of oxygen shrieking in pain, heart straining. "--from...from..."
Unable to continue standing herself, Simplicity collapsed atop her Forgotten, momentarily increasing the pain of his pulled leg. But the sharper agony gradual melted into the dull overall pulse, and whatever Merai had been grasping at mentally fled with it. He let his head drop back to the cold ground beneath him, bruising his scalp as he did, far more desperate to simply get air into his laboring lungs, to quell the salt-copper taste of blood in the back of his mouth.
So it was Forgotten and daemon lay there for a long time, one atop the other, until both had caught their breath. Even then it was difficult for Merai to put together thoughts so badly shattered both by his fall and by the increasing feeling he was breaking into pieces like a dropped plate. "We ran--from home, and they won't--" He swallowed quite hard, trying to force himself to a sitting position. Simplicity yowled a protest, digging her claws into the fabric of his tunic.
Don't try to sit up, mine! Stay here until the hurting dies down, until we can breathe again! In, out, in, out, her claws flicked from their velvet sheathes, kneading against his chest in abject urgency. Merai laid a hand on his daemon's back, unable to find breath for words and opting instead to speak mind to mind, Father won't find us! If we can't pull ourselves together and walk back on our own, we won't walk back at all!
The daemon stilled, breathing hard through her nose and mouth. At last--and to Merai's abject relief--she crawled off of him, landing heavily by his side. Then, she said, we go. He would have smiled, but smiling hurt; as did looping an arm through the swing and struggling to his feet. His wrenched leg would not bear much weight, but Simplicity did what she could to support him, letting him rest a hand on her head.
Together, they set out; together, they got no more than three steps from the tree before collapsing as their mutual vision blacked out.
---
Consciousness came slowly and painfully. It was a struggle for Simplicity to open her eyes and force her head up; every muscle, every bone ached. For a moment she entertained the idea that somehow, whatever had caused them to collapse in the first place had come and gone like some childhood fever. But no: if she listened, she could hear her own heart skipping every third beat and sometimes the second.
Merai--for a moment she panicked after him, until the warmth lying next to her seeped in. She turned her head then, seeing him well beside her and covered in a quilt. A bed--their true-father's bed; they had been found, they were home and all his worries were assuaged--!
Her thudding heart skipped another beat, reminding her cruelly that they were by no means saved. She dropped her head, closing her eyes and hissing out a painful breath. Beside her, Merai stirred; she felt him muddle his way toward consciousness. Soon, soon, he too would be awake and then together they could find a way out of this...
"So you're awake."
Nexeu's rough tenor brought Simplicity back to reality. Her ears pricked forward; beside her, she knew Merai had opened his eyes to golden slits, watching their parent. The mage's scent--clean linen and cinnamon--washed over her, bringing reassurance that little else could. If anyone would know what was happening, he would; if anyone could help them, he definitely would.
"Good." A rustle of clothing; perhaps he had taken a seat next to them. "I found your passage." Another rustle, this time of paper. Simplicity felt Merai sit up, heard him catch his breath even as this exertion proved too much.
She mewled her distress.
"Don't move too much. The words are fading from the paper; I imagine that's what's happening to your pulse, and Simplicity's." She caught her breath--not for a shortness of it, but in anticipation. Surely this could only mean he had a solution! Surely he would have some cure for them, some magic that would fix the stubborn words onto the paper and keep them from fading away...
His next words shattered her fragile hopes. "I don't know what's causing it--and worse, I suspect this might be something you have to face yourself." The paper rustled again, and Simplicity felt it brush by her whiskers--before a rough hand fondled her ears, the imposition unwelcome. She gave another cry, finding herself too weak to bat his hand away.
"I could fix it, I think. I've been studying you two." He sounded so maddeningly calm that Simplicity wanted to leap up and tear his ears to ribbons, but oh, she couldn't draw nearly enough breath into her lungs... "But if it is, in truth, your soul--well, I doubt very much you'd want me to force you to be something you aren't, if either of you were in your right mind."
Simplicity could have cried, if she had the capability to. He was going to leave them to their fate? Their true-father, who had guarded them thus far only to abandon them now? She gave voice to as much of a cry as she dared, burying her head between her front paws. Merai's mute shock washed over her, intensifying the need to weep though she could not.
Hideously, Nexeu knew enough of them to wait until they had stilled once more to continue speaking. "All young things need to choose who and what they are." For a moment, that maddening calm broke, and under the scent of cinnamon Simplicity thought she caught a hint of fear--
Gone. "You as much as anyone. Choose well, mon cher." He hesitated a moment, then added, softly: "I love you. Good luck."
A final rustle of cloth, and his footsteps retreated across the room, leaving daemon and her Forgotten to continue their struggle just to breathe.
---
He left us alone! He took enough care to find us, and then brought us back here--to abandon us? Indignation surged between them; neither Forgotten nor daemon quite knew which of them had started the thought, but it had been repeated a thousand times in as many seconds, fluttering cold and black between their minds.
He says he loves us, and so he leaves us alone--to what! To fade away? Merai opened his eyes long enough to peer myopically at the piece of paper Nexeu had left with them. Every time his pulse skipped, another letter faded away. Every time the breath caught in his throat and it seemed as if he would be sick, another word departed. Game--rhythm--simplicity; these three words remained now, even as the others gave up the last of their ink and dissolved into the white of the paper.
He folded the paper in his hand, eyes tight-shut once more and breath gurgling in his throat. He says we must choose, he added wearily. He cannot choose for us--if he did...
A whip of bristling fur dusted across his knuckles as Simplicity let out a hissing breath. Can't choose? Can't choose to what--now we see that those words are all that we are, they are our soul, so who is it who does the choosing, mine?
More than anything, he felt below his daemon's angry words, they both wanted to release this choice and relax into sleep. With sleep their labored breathing would ease; with sleep, they could forget the way their hearts beat thready into nothingness; with sleep...
Merai coughed, the spasm wracking his body. How he longed to submit! How he longed to, even as something in him rejected the idea of fading even as Simplicity did. If it were... he began, then coughed again. Thoughts slithered through his mental grip like water from a closed fist, oozing away all the faster the harder he tried to grab them.
Fading, as did the words on the page, seemingly of their own volition. If the words are all we are, he struggled to form the thought. Simplicity--why do we try so hard...not to fade...with them?
His daemon stilled. Are we the words? she asked, in a tiny voice. Are we the rhythm of the game? Or do we make it ourselves?
Getting an arm under him, Merai pushed himself up, cracking open his eyes and staring at that little scrap of paper. "Game" and "simplicity" were all that were left; there were more lacunae than there were beats in the rhythm of his heart. Was this all they were? Or could he--
He felt as if he were blind, grasping blind at some huge unseen shape that contained within it the sum of all ideas, all choice, of what it meant to love but abandoned one's loved thing to the agony of indecision. It could not fit into the space his mind afforded; could not, he imagined, ever fit even if he had all the experience and wisdom of his true-father.
Simplicity arose, tail twisting and looping about itself, describing the form her thoughts took as she too tried to cope with this immensity. Submit, give up, throw the choice away and fade with the words--submit and be dictated, or...
"I choose," Merai said in a voice gone weak and thready. "I choose choice." He panted for breath, even as out of the corner of his eye he could see the last letters of his daemon's name trickling off the page...
"I choose! I choose to cast myself, not to be thrown!" He forced the words out with the last of his breath, voice cresting into a shout.
I choose too! I choose to write or unwrite, to make or unmake, not be made or unmade, by my own accord! Still panting for breath, Simplicity struggled to hold her head steady, blue eyes trained on the piece of paper.
We choose! said Forgotten and daemon together.
A long sick moment stretched out before them as they watched, breathless, as the last letter oozed with a snail's pace off the page. It faded and wavered to the time of a fibrillating heart, and despite his triumphal words, Merai wavered for a moment--
Simplicity yowled in his ear, loud and strong.
A kel'en who flinched--!
He cast the paper away from him with the last of his strength. I choose--I throw--
It fluttered slowly to the ground like a dying moth, drawing with it Merai's and Simplicity's eyes. Achingly slow it settled onto the carpet, and then... As if a great weight had been lifted... its hold on them snapped.
Merai gasped, drawing a sweet breath of air into his lungs. Beside him Simplicity did the same, before sitting back on her haunches and sipping greedily at the air once more. Their heartbeat, loud and strong, pounded in their ears once more, drawing that precious oxygen back into starved tissues.
"We chose," Merai said, voice weak but triumphal.
We did. And chose well. From Dark beginning To Dark at ending, Between them a Sun, But after comes Dark, And in that Dark, One ending.
From Dark to Dark Is one voyage. From Dark to Dark Is our voyage. And after the Dark, O brothers, o sisters, Come we home.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|