* * *
Alestere
* * *
While the two of those are out for awhile in my Emperor's head, I examine the crown that's been encircling it for the last two months. A crown that, I do admit, I have really wanted to have for myself. Legitimacy is slow for a person to establish and even slower for that person to notice it's there. The Crown solves so many problems - no need to establish what's plain to see, right on my head. It's so very simple.
And, well, Elete spent the last decade with it welded to his poor head, practically. I'd say he had a psychological dependency, but it was even deeper than that - without the Crown, he didn't have a reason to make himself go on living. It was his life in so many ways.
It is not mine. The pang of longing I feel in response is matched by an even deeper pang of guilt that I even feel it. I don't deserve this crown. I haven't earned it, and it belongs to Jhe o'Radia. I merely took it from him to keep it from hurting him any further.
That, in fact, would be the reason I haven't put it on yet while no one is looking. Just for a second, even. Just to feel the familiar weight on my head, like Elete did. It gives one this constant feeling of presence, of being all together in one place, yet also in so many places at once. So connected with the Poets, even beyond the role of Jhe h'Logos. So wonderful and joyful and most of all so very certain. No one's contested me as Poet King besides apparently Edward, but I keep wondering if at any point in my day someone will pause for a moment, turn to me, and ask me just what it is I think I'm doing, walking about as if I own the Poet Hall.
Most of all, I keep fearing that person will be 'Sy. The weight of the crown would be so wonderful. He won't take me seriously now like he took Elete, but perhaps with the Crown...
No. It can't work like that. I can't have it. For some reason I know that, some base instinct. Just as Elete knew he had to wear it for the rest of his life, once he accepted its mantle of responsibility. It's a subtle knowing, a secret confidence that calms my nerves. I'm not used to them jangling so, and over something so silly as possessiveness. What could I ever need or want now? I'm a King, and people love me. What could I want? Other than the love of just one person, a person who has a particular disdain for figures of authority?
No, I don't want it. I lower the Crown to the table.
But I don't let it go, because that would be just as foolish as wearing it. This thing is dangerous. It certainly calls to me enough to be a dangerous thing. I'm almost surprised I was so tempted, but this would be the one thing that would tempt me so. Why is it so insidious? Has it always been like this? Has it always been so... harmful? There's a certain malice to it now. A taint. Is this Edward's work? It doesn't feel as if it could just be done by him, perhaps Nul--
"AUGH." I jump, almost dropping the thing. Jhe o'Radia sits up from his slumped posture, a grimace twisting his face. "My neck!"
From behind him, Katherine massages her own neck. "I'll help you with that in just a second, got my own to-- ahhh. That's better." She reaches down over the back of the chair and holds her fingers to the base of Jhe o'Radia's skull.
His expression immediately shifts to that of relief. "Thank you. You're my favorite eldest daughter, do you know that?"
Katherine just looks relieved to have her other Father back.
I share that relief, and then a part of me is tickled by the fact that Jhe o'Radia is technically my Father as well. He and Elete never shared a close relationship over it, but still, his blood is in my veins as much as Thelea Xaillyndesse's is. I guess I have a right to share some happiness of that sort.
But there's no time to really dwell on that, is there? As Jhe o'Radia composes himself, my fingers tense around the Crown. I'm not sure how to tell him what I need to tell him. A Poet King grasping for words? How shameful. But I don't have much authority to behind my hunches, and I'd really prefer not to be laughed out of his office.
No one else is here to tell him, though, so it must be me. At least he doesn't look the worse for wear.
Katherine looks up at me, that relief so prominent in her eyes. "There wasn't much damage. He didn't need to be cleaned much. Edward's work was subtle, but it wasn't as brutal as it could have been." She pats Jhe o'Radia's shoulder. "You'll be fine with some coffee and some socializing. You've been locking yourself away from people, and that's done more damage to an extrovert like you than Edward simply attacking could have."
He nods, obviously preoccupied by something, but taking her advice to heart. "I did miss people. I just thought that I was doing the right thing. It's funny, too - I can't remember what exactly I was trying to do. Write it all better, I suppose." He laughs. "Poetry doesn't work quite so easily, does it, Jhe h'Logos?"
I start to attention. I wasn't expecting to hear my title. "If only it would, your highness."
"I go by many names - Luciprochoros is the best one, but it's a mouthful. Please just call me Luci. Please don't demurr out of using it. My leave is enough for you to overcome the compulsion. I'm the Emperor and you're not." He says it all so matter-of-fact, topped off with a cheerful grin that only has a touch of severity to it. "You and I get too stuffy about things with each other, or at least we did. Elete and I. Two of one, a pair of the other, in that regard at least." He sighs. "You're not the same. You're not equal."
I bite my lip. I'm unsure of where this is going, and my future self didn't feel the need to give me any pointers on it, so I'm unsettled. I know I can't quite live up to Elete but--
"You're a bit better, in fact, and I think you'll be doing a lot of work for me, so we ought to start off a bit less dysfunctionally, right?"
I almost drop the Crown. Katherine looks at me. The little grin on her face is my prompt to close my mouth. It's hanging wide open. "I am afraid I have arrived at a loss of words, Jhe-- Luci."
He nods affably. He points at the Crown. "Oh, yes. I find that thing tends to have just that effect. I've wondered about that, since gaining quite a chunk of clarity after you kindly pulled it off of my head. Do you know if Elete would have agreed with my estimation of its effect? He could be quite a talker, you know."
I consider the question, and then consider the fact that I am holding the thing. The thing which has given our Emperor so much trouble in thinking over the past two months. "It has a dark nature about it now. I am unsure of the origin of that darkness. Elete didn't perceive such a thing, but..." I sigh. "He was slowly being tainted by Nul itself. For all I know, that's where the problem arose. It's quite an interesting subject, but I'm more concerned with what to do with it now, your h-- Jhe Luci. To be quite honest, I'm only holding it now because I'm afraid of what it might do unattended."
Katherine frowns. "Does it need to be sealed? What would that do, though? Perhaps it should be cleansed?" She looks at her Father. "Can it?"
He laughs. "You act as if I was there when it was made. It was long ago, and I was unconscious at the time, possibly in a worse state than what Edward left me in, though not nearly as dark of one. Rhia-- well, we can't ask her now, she's quite gone." Luci has trouble looking at his daughter for a second, and I feel the pang of pain from here. "'Sy was there, but he was occupied with holding me together. Tia made it. But the person who is nearest us, and would have the most coherent recollection, would be Valtoryeh. He helped find me in my own mind, much like you did just now. He saw the Crown be created. I think his input would be best." He looks up at me. "It was created to put me in order as the Song. I was burning out, mixed up in my own head, like a score mixed out of order, unable to be played correctly. I thought that it would keep Elete in order when he started to fall apart, and felt that by that point, I could keep myself together. But with everything falling apart since I gave it to him, albeit rather slowly, I fear that I've allowed the Song to warp into something it's not meant to be. I--" His voice breaks. "I am unsure of how to correct it, Jhe h'Logos."
"It can be just Alestere. A name lonely from disuse for so many years." I consider. "I came to you for a completely different reason, but I suppose it was fortuitous. We do need to work together. And I am unsure of this thing's purpose now, and what must be done with it, and who must care for it until the job is done." The Crown gleams in my hands. I have lost my appetite for wearing it by now, but remain unsure of whether it truly has malice to it.
"I would prefer for that person to be you. Katherine has a talent in sealing, if it seems that must be the temporary measure." He shudders. "But... that thing has been the constant in the Song for years upon years now, and I fear for the disarray that might happen if it is locked away."
Katherine's mouth twists to the side. "I don't know if it's been keeping things all that straight. Did Elete die because of Nul, or because he was wearing that thing? What if it's been screwing up the Song the whole time? Things have been kind of screwed up for longer than when Elete wore it, you know." She ruffles her Father's hair. "Maybe it's been a long time in coming, you taking that thing off."
Luci laughs. "You just don't like crowns, dear."
Hm. "Jhe Valtoryeh would be the one to consult on its origins. If not Lady Tia herself..." I consider it. "No, it will be Jhe Valtoryeh. He'll be happy we asked him. It will lend him its own sort of clarity, as apparently..." I blink. The two of them are staring at me. "Oh, I apologize. It's a bit rude of me to just read off the future as if it's right there in front of you. I suppose we should be off causing it to happen instead?"
Katherine coughs behind her hand, hiding a laugh. Luci rests his face in his palm, chuckling. "It took Elete years to make his first apology for that. You learn fast."
* * *
Val
* * *
The secret of my relationship with Eistinn is that he never stops talking. I am always listening. I am not-as-often paying attention to whatever he is saying, but hearing him talk cheers me up, and talking to someone does the same for him. Without the background chatter, things are far too quiet. Besides, I'm used to the ebb and flow of his thoughts running across mine, and I know the rhythm. This is almost the same, except that the thoughts are separate. I'm starting to grow comfortable with that again, but my own head is a strange, empty place to live in now. If I stay in it long enough to dwell, it starts to echo with the voices of those long lost in the past, and lost to me.
Eistinn's never-silent voice thankfully drowns them out. Except, it's not, now. There's a voice that's persistent, growing louder, unwilling to slip under the waters. Instead it grabs for my attention--
--toryeh? Might we have the pleasure of your company? Eistinn is welcome to come along.
I blink. Alestere? So soon after Ebrelle's treatment - I wonder if it's related? Who is the 'we' that desires my company? Jhe o'Radia? Really? And the Advocate?
The past's echoes ring a little louder, but Eistinn, as always, persists in letting his mouth run before him. I decide to start looking for where I might slide a word in edgewise. It seems I'm to be of more use to others today than ever expected.
* * *
When I say Eistinn lends me a certain stability, I usually mean in an emotional way. I don't mean that I have to physically grab him when my balance is knocked from me after laying eyes on something I haven't seen in more years than I want to count. But the latter has just become true.
The crown gleams from inside of Alestere's grip, his thin fingers pale bars against the gold and silver. He's wearing robes, of course - blue robes, his signature color. The color strikes me, but not as much as the crown. I recognize it. It's from the memories I have from Chethar - memories that are clear, the memories of just one person with a lonely mind. Memories that are dusty, but all too recoverable. Blue, and gold, and silver, but most importantly blue, and Alestere's face. It struck me as strange before, seeing him grown up, but I thought it was simply because I remembered him as a thirteen-year-old stabbing victim, not as a grown man. No, what really struck me as strange is that... I should have recognized him.
"The Blue Lord," I say. "Now I know why you call yourself the Time Lord in this age."
He cocks his head, that polite smile still perched on his lips, unsure of just what to make of my words. The recognition is washing over me still. A centuries-old mystery, solved, and it ends up the Blue Lord's my younger brother through another life entirely and--
"Oy! Val! You can just ask for a seat, you know!" Eistinn manages to tip me towards a couch before I end up on the floor. Balance is hard to come by when the years knock your legs from right under you. I can't even entirely be sure of when I am now. Did the Most High dismiss us only yesterday? Are we still being hunted by the Archo? Rhia, where is she - the children? Arik? No, 'Sy now... Eistinn? Who is Eistinn--
Cool hands, one pressed to either temple. "Calm, now," she says. Katherine's voice washes over me, as does clarity. I'm Valtoryeh now, not Vailem. I haven't been Vailem for years. I'll never be Vailem again. Rhia is dead, my children are gone, and Eistinn is my link to the world. Alestere is my brother.
Alestere is the Blue Lord.
I look up at the four of them. Their faces are patient. I can explain what I know.
I sincerely hope that Alestere can explain the rest.
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