* * *
Ebrelle
* * *
Stevane busies herself with the tea and coffee, cleaning up after our diplomatic theatre. She's a blur at the edge of my senses, not someone that I really track so much as I'm aware of being in the room. Most of the room is a blur, to be honest. There's just a hazy void with me in the center of it, trying to ignore that ache inside of myself, trying to ignore the memories churning up. I'll just wait it out until I can see properly again, until I can sense some kind of world beyond my mind.
There's a sudden lurching weight on my knee, the prick of claws trying to lend me aid, and then Millie presses her furry head against my hand and demands to be petted. I accquiesce. It might be ironic that someone such as me, who'd tamed and trained so many animals, now finds himself to be bossed around by a critter he can't even properly catalog. She helps me forget, though, or ignore. Stevane tends to be good at that.
...Actually, I'm not sure if I was thinking about the shenanigan or the girl.
"Alright, are you done?" I look up, blinking against the haze that I expect but don't see. My vision's cleared up and the world isn't tunneled off from me anymore. Instead, Stevane stands in front of me, a cloth napkin in her hand, her hands on her hips, and her eyes narrowed.
I think I might be in trouble, and I swear I don't know what for.
She frowns. "Stop lying. It was bad enough seeing you lie to my Uncle just now, but it might be worse seeing you do it to yourself."
Now I'm exasperated. Alestere said that this mind connection was only to help with my nightmares, not to give Stevane some sort of way to monitor my thoughts.
"I don't think I really need to read your thoughts when I can see what you're thinking so clearly on your face." She lets out a heavy sigh, then flops into the chair she was previously occupying. I notice that the table is spotless now, and there's no evidence of our meeting left behind. She leans forward, elbows on the table. "I don't like seeing someone lie to my Uncle, ever, but I let you slide by because he didn't seem to want to press you on it, and I didn't think pressing you would result in anything anyone would want to witness. Still, you don't have any intention of going to Audiva Rocale. That's obvious. But when were you going to tell us?"
I have trouble looking her in the eye. Everything's going a bit fuzzy again. I'm starting to fade out again. She shakes my shoulder.
"Jhe 'Brelle? It's okay. No one's going to hurt you here."
But that's such a lie, really - my youngest daughter came in here and brought her other Father with her and forced me away from her. I can't even say I didn't deserve it. I just destroy everything I touch, really, and now they want me to go to the one place where I can do the most damage and the most damage can be done to me?
Then something hurts me all of a sudden, but in such an unexpected way that I jerk upright and open my eyes wide and everything goes back into focus.
Stevane rears back from me, her hand still raised at the end point of the arc that swept against my cheek. I reach up to my face, gingerly pressing my fingertips against the place where she slapped me. She glares, with concern if that's possible. She almost looks afraid of what she's just done. Then she lowers her hand and squares up her shoulders.
"You think you're not a threat if you stay in your room and do nothing? You're a threat to every person you love and every person who cares about you, including all those people in your Empire who swear allegiance to you. You're a threat because you're just going to fail them and us and bring doom on us all. If you don't want to do anyone any harm then you're out of luck. Nobody has that choice. So you'd better figure out something to do, or I'll just go tell Unkie."
I blink. Threats from Jhe o'Radia never meant something to me until now - they were just something to brush away with diplomacy or subterfuge until I didn't have to worry about his brother coming into the equation. Now Luciprochoros has more power over my life than I have over his, which is something I suppose I knew but never really considered until Stevane threatened to tattle on me like I was some sort of errant sibling. "I can explain why I cannot go back to Audiva Rocale."
She looks dubious. "Then are you going to explain it to him?"
"I... I don't know if he'll understand, and I'm afraid that he won't listen. If he won't, then he may try to force me into Audiva Rocale, and that might prove disastrous. Everyone is safer if I'm not there, I assure you." She remains unconvinced. I curse myself. She's so stubborn! Sometimes I swear she's worse than Elete! "He thinks everything will be okay if I assume the throne again, but it won't be. It'll just open me to possession and... to Nul. I can't do that to everyone. It was hard enough for your brother to pull me out of that."
She looks away. Lyric is such a sensitive subject for everyone. I try not to say anything, even though I miss him terribly, and feel so much guilt over what happened to him because of me.
"I don't want that to happen ever again. I won't be strong enough, no matter how long I'm given to recover. I've endured years of training and grooming to make me into sort of puppet. It's just not safe. I'm not safe. I don't even know why they allowed me anywhere near your mind."
She looks back at me with her eyes narrowed, and frost in her tone. "Are you implying that I'm safe?"
There's something to her now, some sort of predatory, hawkish look that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end. It's a familiar type of fear, but I have trouble placing it, possibly because I'm afraid to. There's a whisper in the back of my mind, and then I realize that it's her mind. No... it's finding me by way of her mind, but the source is really...
Am I so nice and safe and fuzzy to you that I'll have to prove otherwise? The metal edge to the tone gives the words an eerie twist.
I feel very cold when I realize that Stevane's Arms are talking to me. I've never even seen them. To be honest, I pretend they don't exist, most of the time. That way I can pretend she's not Armed. But I can't ignore how this fear feels familiar, now. I'm on edge the same way that I tend to be around the Judge. I keep forgetting Stevane is his daughter - a convenient, necessary amnesia to keep my mental peace.
"I'm not," I finally answer. "Are you implying that you can defend yourself against me, though?"
"If I couldn't, then neither Jhe h'Leste, Jhe h'Akribastes, nor Jhe o'Radia would have allowed me here with you. Give me some credit. I'm here to protect you just as much as I am to babysit you. As much as it may shock you, there is a possibility that you are not the most dangerous person in the room right now."
I mull that over.
"Are you ever going to do anything with yourself?" Stevane cuts through my thoughts, though at least she uses the least damaging method to do so.
"Whatever do you mean?" I'm getting a little tired of this interrogation and being pressed to admit things, especially with someone so well-equipped to pick out the targets within me.
"You said it yourself, earlier: 'Stevane, what is it that I do, anyway?' I told you the answer, and then you promptly forgot about it all. But it's worth asking again. What is it that you're going to do here? I'm not going to sit by watching you mope until Unkie decides to ask you the wrong question."
I don't even see why it is that I need to do anything. There's nothing that I can do to fix the situation at hand, after all, and certainly nothing I can do for my family. I'm no use to anyone. I'm about to dwell on that when I realize Stevane's making my hair stand on end again, and that she can hear my thoughts.
Well, what is it that I can do? There's no way that I know of to fix the problem in my Palace - Nul will encroach and take over, because it's what Nul does. Although, when I think of it pragmatically, that's not a very satisfying answer, is it? You can't just explain something away like that with no rational reason for it. But no one's ever conducted a thorough analysis of Nul. The very thought is madness - why, you'd need a fantastic lab for it, some method of keeping samples, some way of examining it while managing to shield yourself... although, now that I contemplate all that, I have some idea of how I would construct it all. Just as a mental exercise, mind.
"I've seen that before. That stuff you're trying to make."
I look up at her, eyes wide. "When did you--"
"Lyiannethe. The Kommissar's laboratory. He had all sorts of stuff he was messing around with, and I bet some of it's what you need. I bet a lot of it's still there. Jhe Calyx didn't much like the place at all, and I bet he'd be glad to hand some stuff over. Someone needs to find out what was going on there, anyway."
I'm aghast at the thought of actually attempting any of this madness.
She snorts. "You need to learn to stop lying to yourself. You'll learn to have a lot more fun once you do."
"But no one would help me, Stevane. No one's as crazy as all that."
Stevane taps her chin. "Oh, I know one guy."
I raise an eyebrow.
She grins. "My Uncle."
* * *
Erynn
* * *
Trail life is hard! Especially with Gerude's Father around - we keep doing things like we're supposed to instead of taking it easy. Gerude seems to thrive on the extra vigilance, so there's no sympathy for me from his quarter. He's like a miniature of Jhe h'Akribastes sometimes, I swear. At least right now I'm getting a rest. Fast asleep, in fact. We're traveling in the desert, after all. The best way to not burn your eyes out or roast your skin off is to just sleep during the day and travel in the evening and night. Of course, it doesn't feel so much like sleep to me, because my dreams get so active. That might be why Gerude accuses me of hitting him in my sleep sometimes.
It's not my fault that I've got places to be. Places I'm being summoned to, in fact. The thing about being a Poet is that there are just so many interesting ways to check in with the management. So off I dream and off I go.
Dream travel is so much more convenient than that desert trail nonsense. Practically instant. I feel out the place I'm in when I arrive. Yup, this is the spot. I'd recognize the King's quarters in any mental state. They always look the same no matter if I'm dreaming or awake. I drop into a chair, then stretch my arms over my head for a few moments before settling back into it. The best thing about our King's office is that his chairs are so comfortable. "Jhe h'Logos? You asked for a report?" I look around for him. He's not in view, but I'm too comfy to get up and look much further.
Ah, there's the King, I see him out of the corner of my eye, from somewhere behind me.
"Indeed I did." The voice is wrong for Jhe h'Logos. I should feel alarm a bit sooner than it comes over me, but I must admit, my guard's down. I never even made a pretense of putting it up, fool me.
I decide to stay calm and keep my seat, then, instead of expending useful energy on what might be a pointless struggle. "Jhe Edward. Such an unexpected pleasure."
"Jhe Blackirons." He comes closer, but stays out at my side, not quite in plain view yet. It seems he's keeping to the shadows. No surprise there. "I've been away from my favorite pupil for such a long time. How do you fare?" From here I can just barely make out his eyes - the irises are blank, and I can see no pupil. His face is too shadowed for me to make out more.
I repress a grimace, ending up with a smirk instead. I lean back against one arm of my chair, giving me a better line of sight on Edward. He takes a step back in response. "I fare well, but considering the circumstances I'm a little out of sorts. Just what are you doing in Jhe h'Logos's quarters? Surely you haven't defected back to Crux Radia so quickly."
"I am Jhe h'Logos, Jhe Blackirons." Edward adjusts his posture to be a bit more haughty. "This is, of course, my territory." He's not just making idle conversation. I can feel the nudge in his words, the working of Poetry - he's trying to draw me in with his speech and distract me.
His territory? I question my surroundings. They look the same as Jhe h'Logos's quarters... to a degree. The furnishings change just a bit from time to time as the Poet King receives gifts or has to replace certain things. While the overall appearance is the same, details vary over the years. What I see now doesn't match my King's current quarters exactly - but they did probably look exactly like this about ten years ago, when Edward was still in the Poet Hall. A shame I wasn't alert enough to check on that ahead of time! Jhe h'Logos doesn't keep his quarters so dark, either. Edward wants those shadows to hide in, though.
Typical of him. And he called my work cliche!
"It seems that this is in fact a place of yours, Jhe Edward - but it is not what I'd call Jhe h'Logos's territory, no matter how accurate a construct you make." I brush a piece of imaginary lint off of my sleeve. "Nor how often or how fervently you claim to be Jhe h'Logos. I know my own King."
He snorts. "Indeed you do, Jhe Blackirons. You've known me for quite some time." He steps forward, taking care to stay well away from my chair, walking in the areas where the shadows hang. He then takes a seat himself, regarding me from the new vantage. "The person you knew to be Jhe h'Logos is dead, through an unfortunate set of circumstances, and I remain." He waves his hand to the side. "Whoever it is in Radia that has presumed to take the title is an impostor, unconfident and easily shaken. He doesn't have the proper strength of will and presence of mind to keep the position for too much longer. Surely some of you have already noticed how he strains under his duties... practically sweating his own confidence away?" There's real concern in his voice, no matter how false his words must be. The fact that I can't test them as false is a little strange, but I could think of some reasons as to why I don't detect the taint of lies on his tongue as I should. There's no telling what Nul can cloak and hide, especially for someone who's sworn himself to the Jherent.
"Your observations are quite intriguing, but I don't share your concern. Perhaps you should devote your time to more constructive pursuits than stalking people... or tricking and detaining them, for that matter."
Edward shakes his head... then breaks into a soft chuckle. "You're my star pupil, Jhe Blackirons. You'll survive. But won't you stay for awhile?" Something starts to wrap around my arms, linking them to the chair's arms. "It's a bit lonely in here, I must admit - and you and I really must pool our resources together, being of such like mental capabilities and Poetic persuasions. Really, don't you yearn for someone who understands you writing, who knows the significance in the shadows you let linger in your work, who accepts that certain things must be left just a little bit dark... just a little bit tragic?"
I jerk myself up, shaking out of the trance he was lulling me into. I remind myself that I don't want to be stuck to this chair, I don't want to let myself be restrained, and most of all I certainly don't want to be around Edward any longer than I have to be. "No, but thank you for thinking of me." I stand up, the arms of the chair not wanting to let me go. So, well, I stand up with it still attached to my arms. It's merely a construct, after all, with no real weight to it. This is just a dream. My dream. My dream where there's a chair stuck to me, but whatever.
Edward opens his mouth to spout some more stalkerish tragic tripe, but I decide that I'm deaf in this dream, and I'm also in the desert, and I'm alone. And then I decide, after a moment's contemplation of the starry night sky, that a chair is no longer stuck to my arms. Then I sit in it.
I look up at the constellations of my dreams, contemplate, and interpret. Edward is active again. Edward is trying to reach Poets again. And Edward is attacking my King - or at least he wants me to think he is.
The chair's real nice, though.
* * *
Edward
* * *
Erynn is a loss. That much is for a certain. Whether he remains a loss in the future is something I will just have to wait and see. Perhaps I can influence scenarios to come out in my favor. Perhaps not.
What is certain is that I am alone in this place now... if I can call it a place. It is my home now, at least... but this deep inside Nul, I can rarely if ever make out any of my surroundings. I doubt I even have surroundings. There are some times where I wonder if I still have a body... but I'm fairly certain that hasn't changed, even though I've yet to physically leave Nul since I became Herald.
Someone else would understand, if they were here. And surely they would assist me... if only they were beside me. There must be a Poet who understands me, who won't subscribe to the delusion that the current Jhe h'Logos is any replacement for the previous one... or for me, for that matter.
They'll see. If they won't see now, they will soon. The impostor Jhe h'Logos will break under my assault if he doesn't cede the crown to me.
Reaching him now would be difficult, though. I had to stretch far to call and catch Erynn... and then of course to only have him slip away. It's too much of a strain to cage a Poet of his standing with my mind while I dwell inside Nul. I still have to recover from the transition, to grow used to my new home. I wonder if I'll simply have to learn to live on my own for now, instead of holding out for more company...
I don't know when my Lady Thelea will return. I ask my King of her health and well-being from time to time, but he refuses to tell me when she might visit again. I miss her. Ten years I've been at her side, her prized servant, her lover. I would do anything for her, anything, and something in my chest aches when I think of her now. I've never been apart from her this long before, and I fear it's wearing on me just as much as Nul itself is.
I'm afraid to ask my King to make me forget the pain. Something about the request makes me cry caution. Sometimes when he erases the pain, other things are erased...
And I would never want to lose my feelings for my Lady Thelea. Never.
My mind recedes into the black for a time... the black and numb cold that I always forget afterward. I suppose this is rest, or sleep. It's almost not something I do willingly... sometimes that cold shadow just takes me, and then suddenly it is later, and time has passed.
Time passes.
I wake a little dreary, as if there's a fog in my mind, as if the shadows have seeped down into it instead of just wrapping around it securely. Either the feeling passes or I get used to it, because after a few moments my King tells me that I'm fine, and then I am. I don't remember quite what was wrong before, and of course I don't need to. I just need to attack. Attack that impostor Jhe h'Logos and make him pay for his mockery and deceit. Bring him down, grind him to the floor, make him kneel and abdicate.
Then everything will be fine, and maybe I will even see my Lady Thelea again.
