The clanning of Kronk and Orn was complete as Sanria sank behind her desk. She was happy to have her son among the ranks, happy to have Kronk finally given a home, but her concerns had nearly immediately turned to Ror again.
It had been some time since she'd spoken to the elf, a fact which didn't bother Sanria by any stretch. The less she had to speak to him, the better. It meant she wouldn't have to dredge up Throm again. But when they had spoken about Westbridge, her mind turned. She had been content to remain out of the fight, but lately her comfortability had begun to wane. Her answer was not sufficient. Knowing people were suffering still under the oppression of Vector, that she was content to sit back and do nothing, it sat heavily on her mind.
She breached the topic with Kineada, who was eager to hear the outcome of her conversation with Enmach - when she had it. But his question as to how they would manage such a feat strummed in Sanria's ears as she waited for her Argenach counsellor. In a flash of silver, Enmach appeared and bowed deeply. "You called, Lady Sanria?"
"Enmach, thank you so much for coming."
"Of course. What is it you wished to speak about with me?"
"Westbridge."
"The settlement to our east?"
"The same. It is overrun by Vector. TriPower had once deigned to clean up the city - had mounted forces to free the people of the tyranny there, but-"
"It has not come to pass. I am aware. And what would you determine to do?"
"I'm not certain, but... I do not believe it is a balancing force to have a government bent on oppression in power over such a diverse city."
"I would incline to agree, but are you speaking war?"
"No... not war. Just, an end to the tribulations."
Sanria watched as Enmach bowed her head, her fingers steepled at her lips. "This will require far more hands than what you have amassed, and this particular fight would be yours alone - the Rilmani could not step in to give aid."
"Why?"
"For the same reason we brought you here in the first place, Lady Sanria. Your Keepers are to help us maintain the mortal side. The... ah..."
"The fights too small for you to concern yourselves with," Sanria said pointedly, watching as Enmach merely bowed her head. "I see. But I don't even know where to begin."
"I suggest you call a meeting of your fellow leaders. Determine their mindset on the issue. Beyond that, you will need help, and lots of it. The potential for bringing disaster on yourselves is great."
"Nice to know you're honest. By the way... Sir Kineada sends his regards." Sanria chuckled inwardly as Enmach's face scrunched slightly.
"No. My answer still stands. I have no interest in his bedchambers."
"Suit yourself," Sanria shrugged. "Just know that he is quite tenacious."
Enmach scoffed and shook her head. In a flash she was gone, leaving Sanria to stare at her desk with a deep sigh. The time for doing nothing was gone, a comfort she could no longer afford. She would gather Kineada and Vorcet and determine their next course of action. It could no longer wait.
The Return
Walking through the forest, Ror placed his hand on a tree every few feet. As he closed his eyes, he concentrated. Where was it? It had been a long time, and the forest was a living thing. Living things
changed. Ror tapped into his memories and compared them to that of the trees. Gradually he came closer to what he was looking for.
Ror looked up at the wall of plants before him that blocked his path. "It's here."
With a single step, he stepped forward and pushed himself through the plants. The greenery swallowed him, and before he knew it, he was at the other side. He placed his foot on one of the many small rocks
in his vicinity and looked up at the giant tree that still grew here. Ror pressed on, climbing the rocks up towards the tree trunk.
He smiled as he noticed a weathered, wooden sign. The letters had faded, but he knew what they had said, once, they had spelled out "Welcome".
"I'm home."
changed. Ror tapped into his memories and compared them to that of the trees. Gradually he came closer to what he was looking for.
Ror looked up at the wall of plants before him that blocked his path. "It's here."
With a single step, he stepped forward and pushed himself through the plants. The greenery swallowed him, and before he knew it, he was at the other side. He placed his foot on one of the many small rocks
in his vicinity and looked up at the giant tree that still grew here. Ror pressed on, climbing the rocks up towards the tree trunk.
He smiled as he noticed a weathered, wooden sign. The letters had faded, but he knew what they had said, once, they had spelled out "Welcome".
"I'm home."
Renewed Vigor
Claire appeared in a flash of purple light that shot through Ruthivan's room, illuminating his sleeping form on the bed. Claire crept closer and looked down at him. He looked lost, haggard, scraggly, and most of all, exhausted. She loathed him, the way he had forced this link upon her, the way he had succeeded in tearing apart her life with Gilean. Yes, death would certainly end the bond, but to kill an esper - indeed to kill anyone - was beneath Claire's capacity. There had to be another way.
Claire stood there for a long moment, staring down at Ruthivan's sleeping form, and thought about leaving. But the smell of him, sweat - forest - leather, made her body dance with a charged energy. Every atom in her skin seemed to vibrate and as if calling out to his, they roused Ruthivan.
Claire held her breath as, by the light of her own purple skin, Ruthivan's dark red eyes locked onto her. She could see in that moment the confusion, the state of believing it to be a dream, then the realization that it wasn't. She loathed him. Yes, she truly did loathe him. But she felt herself willingly go as he pulled her to him. Like a drug, his kiss sent Claire into a swoon of intoxication. Logic could tell her why. But all logic had been left standing at the bedside.
"You can stay here with me, you know..."
"No. I can't."
"Why? Why not?" Claire rose from the bed and dressed, facing away from Ruthivan. "I just... can't. I'll bring the children to see you tomorrow but..." In a moment she was back at the cottage, slipping into her familiar bed. She knew Gilean was awake, but she couldn't bear to touch him. She wasn't sure he'd let her if she tried.
Claire stood there for a long moment, staring down at Ruthivan's sleeping form, and thought about leaving. But the smell of him, sweat - forest - leather, made her body dance with a charged energy. Every atom in her skin seemed to vibrate and as if calling out to his, they roused Ruthivan.
Claire held her breath as, by the light of her own purple skin, Ruthivan's dark red eyes locked onto her. She could see in that moment the confusion, the state of believing it to be a dream, then the realization that it wasn't. She loathed him. Yes, she truly did loathe him. But she felt herself willingly go as he pulled her to him. Like a drug, his kiss sent Claire into a swoon of intoxication. Logic could tell her why. But all logic had been left standing at the bedside.
"You can stay here with me, you know..."
"No. I can't."
"Why? Why not?" Claire rose from the bed and dressed, facing away from Ruthivan. "I just... can't. I'll bring the children to see you tomorrow but..." In a moment she was back at the cottage, slipping into her familiar bed. She knew Gilean was awake, but she couldn't bear to touch him. She wasn't sure he'd let her if she tried.
Lost and Found
Claire stared out of the window that faced the back of her cottage. She watched the lazy stream bubble and babble its way over the rocks, scattering the sunlight on its surface. She watched the tufts of pollen that dropped from the trees, glowing speckles that drifted on the light breeze. They had more freedom than she.
Night finally fell and the children were tucked away in bed. Claire sat with Gilean, watching him read in his chair, the firelight casting a deep yellow glow on his skin. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at her and closed his book. He gave a warm, though pitying smile. "You seem troubled," he said gently.
"I can't keep doing this, Gilean," Claire replied.
"Doing what?"
"Staying inside, locked away from life out of fear."
"There's nothing else we can do."
"I am going to go to him."
A sudden chill went through the room and Gilean looked down at his lap. Claire sighed lightly. "I know we have been trying to let this bond die, but it's not, Gilean. I am losing my mind."
"I just think that given time-"
"How much time? I'm... I'm miserable, Gilean. This method is not the answer. I'm not feeling less drawn to him, on the contrary, it's gotten worse."
"I don't know what else I can say," he whispered.
Claire's heart ached for Gilean. She hated what she did to him, hated making him hurt, but she could do nothing about what nature had placed between herself and Ruthivan. She stood up and walked over to Gilean, giving him a small hug, one that was meekly returned. "I'll be back." A nod was all she gained by way of a reply.
Night finally fell and the children were tucked away in bed. Claire sat with Gilean, watching him read in his chair, the firelight casting a deep yellow glow on his skin. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at her and closed his book. He gave a warm, though pitying smile. "You seem troubled," he said gently.
"I can't keep doing this, Gilean," Claire replied.
"Doing what?"
"Staying inside, locked away from life out of fear."
"There's nothing else we can do."
"I am going to go to him."
A sudden chill went through the room and Gilean looked down at his lap. Claire sighed lightly. "I know we have been trying to let this bond die, but it's not, Gilean. I am losing my mind."
"I just think that given time-"
"How much time? I'm... I'm miserable, Gilean. This method is not the answer. I'm not feeling less drawn to him, on the contrary, it's gotten worse."
"I don't know what else I can say," he whispered.
Claire's heart ached for Gilean. She hated what she did to him, hated making him hurt, but she could do nothing about what nature had placed between herself and Ruthivan. She stood up and walked over to Gilean, giving him a small hug, one that was meekly returned. "I'll be back." A nod was all she gained by way of a reply.
Mrs. Wolldon
Leandra looked down at the bundle in her arms. Truth was she was afraid of the tiny infant that lay there, sleeping. She'd never had a baby before and it hurt like hell. He came out screaming and didn't quiet until her mom put him in her arms. She was afraid because for the first time, Leandra realized she really was a mom and really did actually marry Askari. She realized they had no where to live but here with her mom and dad. She looked at Askari and saw that he was afraid, too.
Even the day of her wedding, as she and Askari stared at each other in the druid grove, even as the Elder Druid looked at them like they were too young but trying, even as she repeated the druid's words and squeezed Askari's hands and put the ring on his finger, she was afraid. Was the rest of her life going to be fear like this?
The baby (they couldn't even figure out what to name him yet) stirred and brought Leandra's eyes onto him. He was cute - with the dark hair of his dad and the dark eyes of his dad and the lighter red skin of his dad... and Leandra's mind wandered. Maybe Esper genes were stronger than human genes. Maybe.
Leandra called to her dad. She asked him to let her and Askari stay until they found their own house. She talked to Colin and felt her heart sink. She could tell he wasn't proud of her, maybe even embarrassed by her but he said that wasn't true. Then, Leandra's mind wandered to Nioma. She asked her father if he'd be telling the baby who her real dad was - but every time she asked, Colin just got mad. Like he didn't think she had a different dad... like he didn't care that she wouldn't know when she got bigger. Sometimes, though, it was good to know when to stop talking.
Askari came back into the room after her dad left, and Leandra looked at him closely. He was her husband now, and her baby's dad, and she did love him. She may not know everything about him yet, but she would, and even though things still didn't feel completely right, and even though she was still afraid, at least looking at him made her feel not alone. She would never again be alone.
Even the day of her wedding, as she and Askari stared at each other in the druid grove, even as the Elder Druid looked at them like they were too young but trying, even as she repeated the druid's words and squeezed Askari's hands and put the ring on his finger, she was afraid. Was the rest of her life going to be fear like this?
The baby (they couldn't even figure out what to name him yet) stirred and brought Leandra's eyes onto him. He was cute - with the dark hair of his dad and the dark eyes of his dad and the lighter red skin of his dad... and Leandra's mind wandered. Maybe Esper genes were stronger than human genes. Maybe.
Leandra called to her dad. She asked him to let her and Askari stay until they found their own house. She talked to Colin and felt her heart sink. She could tell he wasn't proud of her, maybe even embarrassed by her but he said that wasn't true. Then, Leandra's mind wandered to Nioma. She asked her father if he'd be telling the baby who her real dad was - but every time she asked, Colin just got mad. Like he didn't think she had a different dad... like he didn't care that she wouldn't know when she got bigger. Sometimes, though, it was good to know when to stop talking.
Askari came back into the room after her dad left, and Leandra looked at him closely. He was her husband now, and her baby's dad, and she did love him. She may not know everything about him yet, but she would, and even though things still didn't feel completely right, and even though she was still afraid, at least looking at him made her feel not alone. She would never again be alone.
Familiarity (1-2)
Sanria was warmed at how enthusiastically Ror took the moss. He checked his list and agreed he had all he needed. Methodical and attentive. She stared at the uniform again with a smile and nod. "Throm would have been very happy with you, I know it."
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
Research Division
"He disappeared?" the elf asked.
"He died. Old history... I'm sorry," Sanria replied, standing straighter.
"I see. My condolences"
"Thank you. I'm Sanria Stone."
"Ror Surion," he said with a salute. "Research division."
"What do you research, if I could ask?"
"Ah, I research the domains of magic, most predominantly the lifeforce and nature."
Sanria's head swam. Lifeforce and nature. Key components in the creation of Nioma. She batted the thoughts away before they could take hold. This was a new face. Before she knew it, he rattled off the names of each herb in her hand and it pleased her greatly. "Are you a sage? Most who aren't don't really know them so well..."
"Indeed, I am a sage. Although still in training, I must admit."
"We are always in training, Sir Ror."
"Touche."
The elf, Ror, had been looking for herbs and in particular the moss that grew abundantly at the edge of the falls. It was an opportunity to show the cavern to a new face, and Sanria led Ror behind the falls and into the sparkle of the Bejuril Crystals. She allowed him to take a few, telling him the story of Icehawk and how, long ago, he had been able to fashion communication crystals that worked with technology. Yet another memory from a time that seemed so far away from now.
Sanria left Ror happily pulling crystals from the cavern and walked back out into the forests. She gathered the moss for him, tucking it into one of the satchels she had brought for her own purposes, then sat across from the falls, watching the water. An elf. In truth, the last one she had seen was Kaliadra and that was ages past. How was she? Obviously alive, for without her Sanria would also be dead. Had she forgotten herself? Or perhaps she had found a new life and moved on. The questions kept surfacing until Ror at last made his way back out from the cavern.
"He died. Old history... I'm sorry," Sanria replied, standing straighter.
"I see. My condolences"
"Thank you. I'm Sanria Stone."
"Ror Surion," he said with a salute. "Research division."
"What do you research, if I could ask?"
"Ah, I research the domains of magic, most predominantly the lifeforce and nature."
Sanria's head swam. Lifeforce and nature. Key components in the creation of Nioma. She batted the thoughts away before they could take hold. This was a new face. Before she knew it, he rattled off the names of each herb in her hand and it pleased her greatly. "Are you a sage? Most who aren't don't really know them so well..."
"Indeed, I am a sage. Although still in training, I must admit."
"We are always in training, Sir Ror."
"Touche."
The elf, Ror, had been looking for herbs and in particular the moss that grew abundantly at the edge of the falls. It was an opportunity to show the cavern to a new face, and Sanria led Ror behind the falls and into the sparkle of the Bejuril Crystals. She allowed him to take a few, telling him the story of Icehawk and how, long ago, he had been able to fashion communication crystals that worked with technology. Yet another memory from a time that seemed so far away from now.
Sanria left Ror happily pulling crystals from the cavern and walked back out into the forests. She gathered the moss for him, tucking it into one of the satchels she had brought for her own purposes, then sat across from the falls, watching the water. An elf. In truth, the last one she had seen was Kaliadra and that was ages past. How was she? Obviously alive, for without her Sanria would also be dead. Had she forgotten herself? Or perhaps she had found a new life and moved on. The questions kept surfacing until Ror at last made his way back out from the cavern.
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