* * *
Jerithea
* * *
I can't make out much of his thoughts at this moment. They're so tangled and scared, they're chasing 'round his head without settling on any one particular line of reasoning. I understand, in a way. I'm so new that I haven't really settled into this whole "being" thing, but Ariktheoni? He's rather old, even though he has such a cute young face and his beard is barely growing in. There are a lot of memories in his head, and I suppose after a while, memories are actually something to worry about losing.
His thoughts turn to his sister a lot. ... Sister. I understand sisters and brothers. We are exposed to such things when we are among the people of Chethar. It's strange to think of applying those concepts to us Archo, though, and even stranger that he only considers a select few to be sisters and brothers. The rest of the Archo are just that. Archo. I wonder what it is about Vailem, Theosil and Rhia that sets them above the others. Shared memory? He thinks about them a lot, especially now that he's going to be annulled. At least, he thinks he's going to be annulled.
I wonder if annulling hurts. I don't think it would. It seems more like it would be the reverse of being born. I don't remember anything of when I was born, and I don't suppose I'd remember anything after I would be annulled. Is it something to be afraid of? Arik is very afraid. It's pretty strange, because Arik simply isn't afraid of anything.
I nearly run into him because I've been so busy musing on this new idea of Arik being scared of something that I haven't noticed he's slowed down as we approach the Court. His mind has gone very quiet. I lean forward, wondering why he's decided to stop and stand in the middle of the hall. He's staring at the giant golden doors.
"Are you alright?"
Are you STUPID? he doesn't say, but I hear him nonetheless. It's nice to know that I helped snap him out of some of that fear by distracting him. He's also thinking very hard about how much he wishes I were the one being annulled instead of him. It's funny how hard he's thinking about that, but at the same time, it's like he's not letting himself think about it at all, because it's really not a very nice thing to think about someone else. Not very right at all.
Strange. Most Archo don't have those layers to their thoughts like that. It's as if he's contradicting himself, or denying himself. That can't be comfortable. His face certainly says it's not.
He stops in front of the door, but makes no move to open them. That weird conflict is back in his head, and the wrinkles are back at the corners of his eyes. I try to stay beneath his notice, but I also can't quite stop myself from bouncing on my toes. He appreciates my silence, at least, so I consider the bouncing to be a good point of compromise between us. It's hard to sit still, though, when I'm this close to the Emperor. I love him very much, and being in his presence is as delightful as turning my face to the sun.
Arik doesn't look like he's wanting to go in, though. Curious. Why would he not want to meet with the Emperor? Is it because he doesn't want to end? Why would that matter? He'd be ending in the presence of the Most High. I can't think of a happier way to end than that. Arik, though, is getting that pressure in his thoughts that people get when they want to run away.
Archo are not supposed to want to run away. I think I'm starting to understand why he's afraid of the Emperor Theos. He's broken inside, somehow.
"I'm broken?" Ariktheoni looks at me, his thoughts turning that over, examining the idea.
"It's... maybe?" I bite my lip. "It makes sense, though." Wait... I frown at him. "You can read minds, too?"
Ariktheoni blinks. "You spoke aloud."
"Oh." I'm rather disappointed. If he could just think at me, it would make our jobs easier. We might even get along better. Maybe I'd even be able to fix that awful brokenness in him. I look at him and see his thoughts turning back inwards, doing that chasing-tail pattern again, and sigh.
There's a sudden, low boom, and the grand doors of the entrance groan as they slowly swing open. Litheosil stands on the other side, his face as taut as Ariktheoni's.
"Enter," he says, low and quiet.
His thoughts are starting to do the same sort of conflicting churn that Arik's are. Is he broken, too?
* * *
Theosil
* * *
The first thing I notice when I lay eyes on my brother is how hard it is to look at him. For a moment, all I see is Jerithea performing some sort of solo dance around the door, and then I notice the pale, wretched face behind her. His eyes meet mine, and my breath catches in my throat. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm pretty sure his eyes aren't supposed to be so... hollow?
Routine takes hold, however, and I motion them into the Court. It's empty, as empty as it was the day Rhia was annulled, and my heart sinks that I may be bearing witness to the same ritual once more. As I approach the dais, however, I find a growing thread of hope in the smile ghosting the corners of the Emperor's mouth. There was no joy whatsoever in Rhia's end, and I know that he bears no ill feelings towards my brother.
Arik, however, is trying so hard to avoid looking at the Emperor that he's entirely missed this slim chance for a happy ending to the situation. I dare not think at him, however. Not only is it rude, but without the Most High's express leave, I am not to create one indication of speech or communication. It has never been a difficult mandate to follow until this moment. I take my place by the Emperor's side, relaxing into the familiar ritual and stance of the Court. It should be much easier to let go of my own concerns and disappear into the Emperor's presence, but I just can't seem to shake the nagging worry that something is about to go terribly amiss in the world.
"My son."
My brother flinches, but instead of looking up, his gaze slides to one side with a grimace.
The Emperor waits a moment, then sighs so softly that for a moment I'm unsure I actually heard one. "Arik'tethariannidai-theoni." Proper bearing asserts itself so quickly that for a moment I fear Arik's spine snapped with the sudden motion. He grimaces as he fights meeting the Most High's gaze for a moment, then relaxes, lifting his face. His eyes...
"No wonder he hid." Anavar sounds worried. I admit I'm more mystified by the lack of crotchety ire in his voice than the strangeness in my brother's eyes.
We both jump a little when the Emperor rises from his throne. He calmly approaches my brother, stepping down and walking across the floor to meet him. I glance at Anavar, but he's too intent on the Emperor and Arik to acknowledge me.
When did my brother get so tall? He's over a head taller than the Emperor...
The Emperor's fingers slide along my brother's jaw, holding his face in his hands. Tears slip down Arik's cheeks. He is so perfectly still that it's like watching a statue weep.
Energy visibly gathers around them, rising like a golden mist from the tiled floor. "Why have you turned your back on your Duty, Arik'tethariannidai-theoni?"
"I..." Arik trembles, another tear slipping down his cheek. "I don't know."
The Emperor's shoulders drop. "Arik, did you just lie to me?" The shock in the Emperor's voice would have been humorous in any other situation.
"No?" He flinches, and this time I notice the mist react, flashing and coiling tighter around my brother's ankles. "Sire, I didn't know I could!"
Anavar coughs into his hand, his eyes twinkling, then quickly squares his shoulders and schools his expression back to its usual deadpan once more. The Emperor turns and raises an eyebrow in Anavar's direction, which the Archo returns with the curious impassivity of a cat.
Arik seems to wilt when the Emperor's gaze falls on him once more. "I just wanted her back," he whispers.
"You wanted?" The Emperor's hands drop, and Arik staggers a bit, then straightens. "You wanted something contrary to my decree? How strange." He looks at my brother a moment, then shakes his head. "Arik'tethariannidai-theoni, we are here to tend a garden, to guard the very shape of this world. We tend to this world as a gardener tends to his rose bushes. Sometimes, when it becomes necessary, we cut away old growth to make room for the new in order to thrive." He steps back from my brother, and I feel sorrow radiating from the Most High. Something in my chest clenches. I can't breathe. "And then there is disease, and in order to save the garden, we must put a torch to even the dearest of our crops." He raises his hand, and my brother's eyes close. The mist gathers--
"NO!"
There are two voices in the echo that continues to sound in the chambers. One must be Jerithea's -- she's somehow between my brother and the Emperor, her arms thrown wide.
The other appears to be mine.
I feel the end of my song approaching in that horrible, empty moment where I'm waiting for the Emperor to correct my insubordination. Jerithea looks as if she's entertaining similar thoughts. The poor thing has gone sickly pale, staring at the Emperor with her mouth hanging open and brown eyes wide. Arik is blinking, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, looking back and forth between us like he's trying to figure out who stole his brain.
Then again, I'm pretty sure my expression matches theirs. After all, I'm still here.
"I can fix him," Jerithea whispers. She straightens, squaring her shoulders. "You made me for healing. I can make this better." Her lips twist, then tremor. "Please don't kill him?"
The Emperor stares at her, then nods. "See what you can do."
She lets her breath out in a rush, then turns and faces Arik. He scowls, but does not prevent Jerithea from placing her hands on either side of his head. She closes her eyes, her head dipping. His eyes close as well. He lifts his chin, his jaw clenching, and Jerithea's forehead wrinkles slightly as she frowns in response. I silently will Arik to stop struggling against her, but I feel I will have to settle for cheering Jerithea on. Arik has always been a stubborn one, and I don't think Jerithea is a place where he'll ever start being conciliatory.
They remain standing for several long moments. Then, Arik flinches, and Jerithea's frown vanishes into a blinding grin. "I have found something, Most High!"
The Emperor raises one silver eyebrow. "Do tell?"
"There is something here we've never seen before, Most High. It's..." She frowns again, eyes closing harder in concentration. "There is something different about him, something that is making him not as he should be. I cannot describe it as anything other than a change, Sire. Golden emptiness, stars sprinkled over a vast sea of quiet --"
"That is enough." Jerithea's eyes open, questioning. The Emperor chuckles and pats her on top of her head. "You've done well," he says, then looks over his shoulder towards Anavar, his eyes cold and serious. "You have been proven correct once again, Anavar-chozeh." Anavar bows, his face as taciturn as ever. The Emperor turns to face my brother once more. "Your life has been plead for, my son. What says the Law?"
My brother's mouth works for a moment, but no words escape him. He manages a cough, then shakes himself slightly. "I cannot say, Most High. I disagree with her, but..." His face twists like he's been offered a taste of a wandering merchant's foot.
"But you have been shown mercy, and cannot place judgement upon yourself?" My brother closes his eyes, his grimace distorting his face further. He nods, one quick jerk of the head. It's more of a confession than an agreement. "Mercy isn't something to be ashamed of, my son."
Arik's eyes glint as his expression hardens. "Mercy negates me. Show me mercy, and you erase everything that I am."
"Aaaaaah." The Emperor turns, forehead furrowed as he climbs the steps to the Throne. He gathers his robes about him and seats himself, staring at Arik and stroking his beard. "It's a pity you were created so strongly tied to your role in this world, Arik'tethariannidai-theoni. Hold..." The Emperor holds up one hand, and I look in time to see my brother's jaw close again. "I am not removing you from this world, my son. The mistake is mine, and it is now my responsibility to give you a place in it."
The Most High signals for him to approach. He does, promptly but still with the air of a man approaching his death. The Emperor rises to meet him, and inclines his head low enough that his eyes no longer meet my brother's.
My blood runs ice cold, but I do not know why. I don't want to know why.
Anavar steps forward, then seems to reconsider and resumes his place. "Most High, is this--" His words are choked off. I see Anavar's fingertips brush his throat, then fall to his sides once more, at perfect attention.
The Emperor watches my brother for a long moment, staring into my brother's strange eyes. He sighs at whatever he sees there, then raises his hands and covers Arik's eyes with his palms. Mist creeps up from the floor once more, different in color this time, but something about it makes me even more nervous than the last one did. He whispers, the words floating about the chambers, spoken but somehow unspoken.
The mist vanishes, and the Emperor lowers his hands. "Arik'tighesinnodai-theoni."
My brother rubs his eyes, then looks up at the Emperor. He promptly falls to his knees, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. The Emperor's smile has vanished, and he looks from Arik to Anavar.
"It was the only way to save him," Anavar says. He looks down at my brother's wild red mop of hair and shudders. "I do not envy him his newfound sight."
The Emperor lowers himself onto the Throne once more. "You before all would understand him now, Anavar. Is there any help for him?"
Anavar glances my way, then shakes his head. "He will have to help himself."
The Emperor sighs heavily. He watches as my brother uncurls, stilling his cries. He blinks, looking around, and even though I expect it, the sight of those curious black-centered eyes shocks me to the core. He looks at me, meeting my eyes, and in that connection I feel the incredible weight of what's happened to him in the deep gold that rings the black. I want to reach out to him, but I keep my fingers still. Something in his eyes changes, then. Hardens.
Arik rises to his feet and bows low before the Emperor. The hair rises on the back of my neck watching it -- it is an acknowledgement appropriate for a foreign dignitary, not an Archo.
The Emperor smiles and inclines his head slightly in return.
"You are dismissed."
As Arik turns and leaves, the Emperor's attention turns to me. "There is work to be done, Litheosil. I will require your presence as the sun sets."
I bow in acknowledgement. By the time I have straightened once more, the Throne is empty. I sigh, delayed shock racing through my body in small shudders. I don't understand what just happened, but I don't dare explore it without the Emperor's leave.
* * *
