Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Not for you. We know who we are. The cool kids. And you're not one of them.))

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It was a beautiful, shining late summer day on Gaia. It was as perfect an August as anyone could wish for. The balance between summer's departure and autumn's arrival made the weather perfect, left the skies with scattered clouds and the air with a faint breeze blowing in from the ocean. The highs of July were gone now, the leaves on the trees just beginning to turn, and an ideal day for a walk in the park.

The part was quiet today, a few picnics and sports games. Some office types were taking their lunch on the green, sitting on their briefcases to avoid grass stains, or on benches where available. Labor Day was just passed, and the revelers from the long weekend were still recooperating at home from the barbeques and sporting events.

There were less children than usual, some already back at school, others trapped in that pre-school depression that approaches when the end of summer is near and the supplies for the coming year start to arrive at home. Papers and tests awaited those poor souls, teachers and gym class and social cliques, unless they were young enough that school was still something to look forward to, with that single, loving teacher who usually took on the role of mom for six or seven hours each day and always, always gave gold stars for good homework and attendance.

For some children, especially on Gaia, the approach of school was totally unconcerning. Too frequently the children born on Gaia were given absolutely no schooling at all, or some form of home instruction which varied greatly in quality and usefulness.

For one of those rare children born from works of literature, the mode of learning was entirely self-directed, but it was also totally satisfactory. Third Hhalak Atreides-Piett learned everything he could from his mother's infinitely varied library. The laws of physics, the strategy of war, the care of plants and animals and biological processes that governed the human body. If there was a subject he wanted to learn, he would simply find a book written about it.

He was no fool. Whenever possible he also applied his knowledge. When his loyal daemon Constant cut her paw on a sharp rock, he bandaged it with precision and care. He planted seeds in the yard and coaxed into life a small garden, the fruits of which he would not see for many years, if he lived that long. When he played ball with Aelinye, he knew exactly how much force to apply so that she would always catch it, and always gently.

Today he was applying his knowledge of physics at the park on the swings. His precious little sister Aelinye giggled with delight as he pushed her carefully back and forth. He compensated for the unevenness of the chains on either side of the swing and soon had a steady, rhythmic pace going. All that, and he was still small enough that he had to reach up to push her and ask for help when he put herin the swing and eventually took her out.

That help came in the form of Trion Bartholomew, his guardian for the day, who flipped through a lurid French novel while keeping a firm watch on Third, Constant, and Aelinye. He was by far Third's favorite day guardian, since he trusted Third more than anyone else and did not question the Forgotten's judgment without good reason. He had not yet found any good reasons.

Third's daemon Constant lay on the red and white checkered blanket next to Trion, head on her paws. A few minutes earlier she had been jumping at Third's side, cheerfully barking at the motion of the swing. But she had observed Third slip almost into a reverie as he determined the perfect force and angle required to keep the swing in motion for the least energy expenditure possible. Besides, he needed to spend quality time with his little sister, just the two of them, adn Constant did not begrudge him that. They were two souls locked into one, but very different people, and, she thought, complimented each other nicely. Their need for unique identities was perfectly balanced by mutual respect for those identities.

Besides, Constant was watching her Forgotten enjoy himself, which made her relaxed and happy.

The wolflike daemon heaved a contented sigh. Trion reached over and gave her a rub behind the ears. Not only was he Third's favorite, he was Constant's as well. He respected the daemon as much as her Forgotten, a rare joy from Constant's perspective, since most people looked at her as merely a dog or pet. She only wished there were some way for her to more directly communicate with Trion instead of having Third as a go-between. She would like to someday tell Trion how much his respect meant to her without needing the services fo a translator.

Constant let the warm feeling of Trion's fingers massage her into a lull. Aelinye had a high tolerance for swings and it would probably be a while before the little girl was tired of the motion. She scarcely noticed when Trion's hand withdrew, or when a leaf fell on her back from the trees overhead.

Trion watched Constant fall into a daydream, envying that ability as he wondered: what did daemons dream of? Her ear twitched in her sleep and Tiron resumed his novel.

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