Story time.

[Faith Augustin]

14th Ashan, 718

"Stop teasing me!" she said, sticking her tongue out at her brother with a grin. "I can dress however I like and Mama says so. You look like a bird, so that's even sillier." Standing up from the blanket on which the picnic rested, she twirled around. "Look, it's a pretty dress and I've got high heeled shoes too, or boots but look at the heels!! Mama said I could have them because I'm going to meet the king. So are you, I know, but you're a boy," apparently, there was no worse insult than being dubbed as such. She twirled around in her red skirt which fell in rags to her knees and the tight corset. Her hair was piled on her head and she stuck her arms out and spun twice for him.

"I suppose," she said, flinging herself on to the blanket next to him, laying on her stomach and looking up at him with serious silver eyes, "I only got a new dress because we're meeting the king. Are you scared?" Her feet lifted behind her, swinging her lower legs back and forth as she lay on the blanket. "You're going to marry a princess. You'll be the Prince then." Faith wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I'm not calling you that. The Prince of Eternal Mercies, it's silly."

Picking up a small slice of cheese, she examined it carefully, then popped it into her mouth. "You'll always be Noth to me. My irritating big brother." She found it more or less impossible to think that anyone would want to marry him, because he was so annoying. "Remember when you and I got stuck on the roof? I thought Papa was going to kill you dead twice. He's proud of you, though." Sitting up, finding it difficult to stay still, Faith realised she was nervous.

"I don't like it Noth," she said, handing him a piece of chicken. "What if it changes you? What if you become this Prince of Eternal Mercies and we lose the real you?" Sighing, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't want that to happen. You're irritating and you smell funny, but you're my brother."

Sitting there with him, she was much more content to stay still. "Will you find me a nice prince to marry and have lots of fat babies with? Or can I live in a tower and become a mage?" Once he'd answered, she sighed deeply. "Tell me a story, Noth? Like you used to, when we were little?"

[Noth]

Noth found himself simply shaking his head from side to side as he stared at his sibling, her tongue outstretched in apparent mockery. She spoke of how she was allowed to dress however she desired, and that their mother had agreed to it. That elicited a roll of the eyes from the hybrid, his thoughts briefly flickering to the mother and questioning how she could have possibly decided that it was befitting for her daughter to wear whatever she wanted on a visit to the King. Of course, he had tried to intervene, using playful jesting and joking to attempt to make his sister understand that what she was wearing was… perhaps not altogether the most regal of outfits. Naturally, she was a stubborn sort, however, and whilst it was apparent that she’d taken no offense at his comment, it was equally obvious that she wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.

“No no, I don’t mind the heels.” He defended quickly, casting a solemn glance at the boots with the slightest hint of a wince crossing over his avian face. Choose your battles, he considered, before raising his eyes once more to his sister. “I’m just saying that there are very strict dress codes that are adhered to in the presence of a King. I’d be absolutely shocked if you didn’t receive the outfit requested of you already by courier… we are invited, after all, and it’s custom.” He himself had received his own outfit, an ornate suit of dark blues which matched the feathers he wore quite well and which ended in a long strip of cloth along the back of his collar in mock imitation of a gorget.

He considered pursuing the argument further, but he saw how happy the dress made her, the way that she spun around so preciously and he decided that the king would simply have to deal. Worst case scenario, he would talk him out of causing a scene for fear of making any political enemies out of them. After all, he might have been a king, but the king was only strong so long as people were willing to listen, and Noth had a way with persuasion that was unmatched by most. There was a sudden blotting out of the sun as his sister stood next to him and then plummeted like a catapult’s stone into the blanket besides him, he cast a brief glance over, a grin peering out of its hiding place upon his visage.

She began to question him on whether or not he was afraid to be meeting the king, and the hybrid propped himself up on an elbow, maneuvering about the blanket so that he could face her even from his prone position. “Nah. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s a King, but that doesn’t make him all powerful or anything.” He shrugged slightly, hoping that that answer was satisfying enough. It must have been, because his sister immediately began to speak of how he was going to be marrying a princess. The hybrid grinned slightly at the thought of finally getting to meet the beauty who would become his wife, and nodded. “Indeed I shall.” She spoke of how his new moniker was silly, eliciting another roll of the eyes from the hybrid who became acutely aware of the fact that he did that quite often. “I think it’s a decent title. It carries power with it as a prince, but it also means that I get to make lasting change, it’s not just something that’ll be forgotten forever to history, I get to help save the world, to stop slavery and famine and violence, and really help people, you know?”

A piece of chicken was handed to him, and he carefully took hold of it, observing it for a few instances before taking a bite. It always felt a touch taboo to be eating other birds, but he supposed that they weren’t capable of thinking like he was, and besides in the natural world there were hawks and falcons that preyed upon their smaller relatives. “Don’t worry, Sis. It’s just a title and a position. It’s not like I’m any different without it, just… a different face to put on is all. Like, when an actor decides they’ll play a role. They’re not really becoming that new person, they just have to change a little bit to play the part, and then once they’re done, they go home and they’re just like they were before.” He felt the weight of her leaning against his shoulder before he saw it, and he listened as she described him as “irritating and smelly”. “Royal cologne, I’ll have you know. Only the finest in smelling like an arrogant prattler.” He grinned, rolling over once more to face the sky, licking bits of chicken from his feathered fingers.

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” He answered when questioned about whether or not he’d find a prince for his sister or whether she could become a mage in a tower. “You could have both. Those poor unfortunate kids have to get to visit me sometimes though, or else they’ll grow up all chaotic and disorderly.” He smirked at her, indicating that it was a statement taken in jest.

There was a question of whether or not he’d tell a story, and he began to recall the many times he’d sat with her, telling her stories so that she’d be able to sleep better at night. He supposed once more before a potentially stressful situation wouldn’t be too bad. “Once upon a time there was a duck. Now, this duck did pretty well for himself, and he had managed to earn a great deal of money. Well, the king came to the duck and said ‘Duck, please help me, I need to take out a loan’. So, the duck loaned the king money, but as a year went by, then two, it became apparent that he wouldn’t be getting his money back. So, the duck went to the king’s castle, and along the way he saw a ladder. The ladder asked him where he was going, and the duck replied that he was going to the king’s castle. The ladder said ‘Oh, can I go too?’ and the duck said ‘Sure’. So, off they went to the king’s castle, but the king’s magistrate saw the duck and decided to stop him from getting his money back by throwing him into a pit. The duck didn’t know what to do, but then he remembered that he had been nice to the ladder, and the ladder was with him now. So the ladder leaned against the side of the pit, and the duck was able to get out and grab his money from the king.

Would you like to guess the moral of that story?”

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[Faith Augustin]

Faith had a lot of very good, valid and well constructed counter argument to each of her brother's mean and nasty ones, but she just looked at him and shook her head. "You know, no one thinks you're clever." She grinned at him and, laying on her stomach next to him after she'd handed him a piece of chicken, she sighed a deep and rather dramatic sigh. "It's a silly title, Noth. You can't be the prince of eternal mercies, cos not all mercies are eternal. Also, you can't just go around being a merciful prince or you'll be the biggest wimp in wimpville on wimpy-trial." Aha, now that was logic, Faith thought and she chuckled. When he said what he was going to do, though, she shook her head. "Don't be silly. No one can stop those things and if you try and fight them, people will just try and hurt you. You need to look after yourself, stay strong and destroy your enemies." Thinking about it, she considered and then added, "And rescue damsels, slay dragons, go on great adventures, too. Never drink wine from a dark handsome stranger or eat any apples given to you by witches. All of these things are important. Slaves don't matter, don't worry about them." Reaching up, she stroked his cheek. "You've always been too soft, Noth. People have hurt you and that's not fair."

But royal cologne? Faith shook her head and chuckled. "You're funny. Sometimes. Not then, but sometimes." She could be a mage in a tower and get married to a prince? Faith smiled and shook her head. "I can't love anyone else. I love him. Just him, only him. I'm his and he's mine. Intertwined." It didn't fit with the narrative of the dream, but in Faith's dreaming mind it did because the simple truth was that her love for Padraig ran deeper than a conscious awareness of who she was; it ran at a level of her very being and so, even when she could tell Noth, her brother, that slaves didn't matter, that he was too soft, she loved the man she loved.

However, the slight confusion in her dreaming mind which caused her to frown and grumble in her sleep disappeared as her brother told her a story. Of a duck and a ladder. She listened, though there was a grin on her face and then he asked her what she thought the moral of the story was. Faith sat up and looked at him. "Well, that depends who you are. To the king, the moral is dig deeper wells. To the ladder, it's get better friends. For the duck? Well, never loan money to anyone, especially not a king. They've got more money and power than you to begin with so they're not ever paying that back." She shook her head. "Or, I suppose, for the king is there's a stupid duck born every bit."

She leaned against him again and, as was their way, she did what he had. "My story is of a boy who dreamed of being a hero. He practiced and trained and he was so focused that friends fell by the wayside because he was too busy to keep them. He worked and he trained and he became the best warrior in the land. He stood up for what was right and he drew everyone's attention to it. He showed them the injustices, the concerns and the things they should be angry about, the common people, and they rallied with him, under his banner. They went to war and they fought for what they believed was right. Thousands, hundreds of thousands died." Faith looked at her brother and she asked, seriously, "Was he a hero? Does the answer change if they won or lost?"

[Noth]

The twilight hybrid found himself staring at his sibling, observing her carefully for several instances as his thoughts rustled around in his mind. She had always been a fairly clever person, if not somewhat insistent on the way things ought to be or were with little regard to other opinions. That was perfectly acceptable, of course, because everyone was entitled to think their own ways, but sometimes he wished that he was capable of changing her mind, or of showing her different pathways than her own that were also just as valid. Sadly, it didn’t seem likely that any reasoning on his part would pierce through the hardened stone of his siblings psyche, but he could still hope.

The Avriel rolled his eyes at the comment that he was not regarded as clever, giving a sigh of mock disappointment at the news. He heard her sigh deeply before elaborating that he couldn’t be the Prince of Eternal Mercies, because the timespan of such a title was beyond the bounds of reality. It was true that the idea of being granted any title for all time would seem somewhat pointless to those that didn’t understand what was truly in store for mankind, and he envisioned that if he were ignorant of what would occur, he would likely consider it to be a fairly foolish title as well. She further mentioned that if he went around offering loads of mercy that he would be regarded as weak. “There’s nothing weak about granting retribution for the contrite, Boots. Everyone needs a second chance.” He smiled briefly.

When he spoke of all the things that he would accomplish, of all the goals that he had set for himself, he half-expected for her to interject that such activities wouldn’t be possible. He admitted that the world as it was did not exist in a prime place for such things to take place, because there was constant conflict between nations and peoples, and because there were far too many individuals working to tear mortalkind apart instead of sew them together so that they might benefit one another. Thankfully, that issue would be rectified in the future when all persons were united under a singular banner in the distant future. The list of his duties as Prince were regaled to him by his younger sister with some inclusion of what he believed were storybook elements from when they had been children. That elicited a short bark of laughter from the hybrid, though the mood turned somewhat more serious when she placed a hand upon his cheek, stating that he had been too soft and that it had led to his own injury.

The hybrid shuttered his eyes for a moment, recalling all of the acts of hatred that had plagued him throughout his existence. He had not been born… correctly, but instead had been subject to an unnatural formation. One of his wings had been deprived of him entirely, and flat skin marked the area where it should have burst free from its fleshy confines. Beyond that, he was covered in a thick layer of feathers from head to talon, and his eyes burned with a fiery gaze that was sure to draw the ire of others. They were afraid of him, he knew, and that was the reason that they went through so many troubles attempting to annihilate him. They regarded him as little more than an abomination, because they saw the world with their eyes and not their hearts.

Whilst Noth had honestly offered to attempt to locate a potential spouse for his sibling; he didn’t mind the idea of offering since it meant he’d have a chance at vetting all potential suitors, she seemed rather intent on a particular person. The Avriel had only ever encountered her suitor a couple of times in the past if memory served, and he wasn’t entirely sure of most of his personal features, though he was aware of his work. “The Curator?” He questioned with a smirk and a shrug. The man had seemed pleasant enough if somewhat misguided in his search and entirely devoted to his job. Nevertheless, if it made her happy then he would not interfere.

The morals offered by his sibling to the tale he had regaled were not at all entirely incorrect, though he did note that she had failed to touch upon the actual moral. “The moral is actually to help others and that they’ll help you, but I suppose there is some wisdom in digging deep moats.” He smirked again, lying back in the blanket and staring upwards at the sky, watching as the wind currents flickered and danced with one another in the heavens above. She decided to tell a story too, it seemed, and he listened intently, though… there was a brief impression that somehow it… was related to him? Perhaps it was a misinterpretation, or a question of morality, of what was right and wrong, but he was uncertain.

He considered for a few moments, crimson eyes shuddering themselves from the visual spectrum as he regarded her brief tale. “Yes.” He answered finally, eyes opening once more as he spun about to face her. “It does matter if he wins or loses. If he loses, then all of the deaths that were inflicted by the war come to nothing. The thousands of acts of carnage and suffering and pain all become just another part of life, they don’t work to fix the issue. When a surgeon cuts away at a growth, if they fail, then all they’ve managed to do is wound their patient, not fix the problem.” He elaborated with an example. “But if he wins… if the hero manages to attain the victory he wants, and gets to enact the laws that he knows he must, and he manages to unite all of the people under him, then all the casualties become temporary.”

“A true hero doesn’t let death stop them, Boots. A true hero knows that sometimes the way to salvation is a road covered in blood, but they see that in the end it’s all temporary. One trial, it will all be fixed.”

[Faith Augustin]

Boots? Hmmm. Faith considered for a moment and then grinned at her brother. She liked the name, she decided "Boots. That is acceptable," she grinned and sat with him, just quiet together for a moment. He was clever, she knew that and he was kind, too. But did everyone deserve a second chance? Faith wasn't sure of that and her expression said so.

He did, though. He deserved all the chances there were. People treated him like he was different, like he was bad because of that difference and Faith simply didn't understand it. "Do you think people will be kind to you now?" The earnest young woman asked without guile because he was her brother and there were no secrets between them. They knew each other, knew each other's feelings on things in ways that not even their parents did. Reaching up she stroked his cheek. "I think you're handsome and she's lucky. Think of all the cute fat babies you'll make." But yes, her blush told the truth of his question. The Curator, as he called him. "I love him. Those words, that sentiment, it's all woefully overused and not at all anywhere near good enough for what I feel." She sighed slightly and tried to explain the best and probably only way she could. "Whatever my soul is made of, his is constructed from the same. I wasn't whole before him and I would be hollow without him." When she awoke, that bit would be the part of this dream which scared her most ~ the admittance of vulnerability to Noth was genuine, heartfelt and complete. Yet, in the dream she smiled at him and spoke with total honesty. "He makes everything I do possible. Without him, there would be no me."

She grinned wickedly when he said what the moral of the story had been and she shook her head. "Mine was better," she insisted. "You've got to learn to dig deep, brother mine. All sorts of things." She was teasing, there was no doubt but equally, she knew that the two of them felt so very differently about so many things. Like, his answer to her question, to her story? She shook her head. "If the hero wins or loses, the dead will still be dead. There's no meaning in death - that's found in the life which happened before the death. And the surgeon is playing the odds. Doing nothing would make death inevitable. Better to try, isn't it?" Thinking about it, Faith chewed her lip in consideration.

"I don't know, Noth. I wish I did. I wish I had a way of stopping the bad people, but I don't. I've got secret weapons now, things that he doesn't know about, but ..." In the distance, a baby started to cry and Faith turned to look.

"Is that Mama? I think I have to go." Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek.

[Noth]

The twilight hybrid wasn’t entirely certain when he had forgotten the name of his own sister. It seemed like such an absolutely dreadful thing to have lost from his memory, but no matter how hard he mentally raked through the muck of esoteric knowledge which was confided within his mind, he could not seem to locate her name. He knew that he had to have learned it at some point, because she was his sister, and it would be absolutely ridiculous of him to forgotten to learn the name of his own sibling whilst they were children. That was the primary reason that he had been referring to her as Boots for the duration of the conversation, because he couldn’t imagine the shame that would befall him and the hurt ridicule that would cross her visage when he admitted that he didn’t know what he was actually meant to call her.

Regardless of his inability to quite remember what his sibling’s name was, he paid rapt attention to both her statements and to the many questions that she often fielded towards him. She questioned whether or not people would be kind to him now that he was becoming the Prince of Eternal Mercies. It was a position that spoke both of power and prestige, and there was little doubt that at least some persons would fall into line because of it, but… the hybrid didn’t delude himself into believing that he would suddenly be treated with kindness. “No, I don’t believe so. In fact, I’m quite certain that even fewer people will actually like me, because they will be envious over my position.” He simply shrugged, apparently unbothered by the thought that a few thousand persons might despise him, because in the end, he knew that he would do the right thing, and that was all that truly mattered.

He felt her hand gently caress his cheek, and he smiled warmly towards his sister, appreciating her notions of compassion in a world where such things were a rarity. Even though she spoke of how certain people weren’t deserving of this, or that this type of people didn’t truly matter, he didn’t believe for an instant that she really meant any of it. She was a far kinder soul than most that he had ever encountered, and while it was quite true that she could be misled, or could be fooled into believing untruths, he didn’t doubt that she would always act righteously with whatever information she did possess.

There was a brief mention of the Curator, and his sister became incredibly gushy over the subject, practically throwing out waves of affection for a person not even present. The hybrid simply rolled his eyes, finding it all too fairy-tale-esque, but happy nonetheless that she was satisfied with her choice in lover. Everyone had someone waiting for them out there, he supposed, and he was happy that she had managed to find her someone.

The conversation turned once more to the story that he had told, and she insisted that her answers to the question of the story’s moral were much better than his own. The Avriel simply smirked at the thought of her chiding him for not having an interesting enough lesson to add for the story, and then tisked in mock disappointment over her inability to grasp the concept. She spoke of how the hero winning or losing didn’t affect the loss of life, because the dead would be dead, and he simply shook his head.

“Boots, death is a pit in the ground. People fall in, and they disappear from our lives, and we can’t see them anymore. Everyone seems to think that’s the end of it… but a pit in the ground didn’t stop the Duck. It’s like no one ever considers for a moment the wonders of a ladder. It’s like no one thinks that they can reach beyond the veil and just pluck lives back from it, to drag them free from their prison.”

“I’ll do it, Boots. I’ll bring them all back. Every. Single. One.” There was a whisper which tickled his ears, an otherworldly murmur of a cosmic being drawing close to his consciousness, and it spoke to him in commanding tone to remain silent. He could not see the Beast which rode along his back, but it had been with him for quite some time, and he knew when it was time to obey its commands. It spoke of things beyond comprehension, whispered them into his mind with thoughts and images and impressions. It spoke of dreams and the places beyond dreams, of people whose names he did not know, and the reason why they were shuttered away from him.

Crimson eyes narrowed, ever so slowly, coming to… an understanding. He didn’t move or make a motion when she reached over and kissed him upon the cheek, though for a heartbeat he considered it. It was… too much, especially for a sleeping mind to understand, one unaccustomed to such intrusions.

If the girl looked, she might have seen some indication of the Beast, some shimmer of unnatural power leant across his shoulder, and then, in her mind would be the faintest echoes and whispers urging her to forget all that she had learned.

The dream ended.

[Ellen'wyn]

Noth

Comments

I enjoy seeing a more vulnerable side of Noth, but at the same time it just makes me sad. Noth is a good "bad guy". I want to root for him and hope he fails all at the same time.

Points

EXP: 15 points

These points may not be used for magic.

Renown: In your dreams. HA! See what I did there?

Knowledge

Nada

Loot & Consequences

Items: None

Injuries/Overstepping: None

Faith

Comments

This was sweet and wrong on so many levels at the same time. I'm so conflicted. I'm trying to make connections in my head between this dream and some of the other things I've seen you guys write. I don't know if I'm digging too deep, but I see so much continuity. Very nice and exciting to read.

Points

EXP: 15 points

These points may not be used for magic.

Renown: Nupe

Knowledge

Nada

Loot & Consequences

Items: None

Injuries/Overstepping: None

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