| Logs |
2004 February 01
| Idlewild |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Idlewild Logs |
February 1
The morning after the ever-so-slightly uncomfortable intimate elven dinner dawns crisp and cool. Steven's eyes open to greet the sunrise today, although he does not notice the relative coolness to the air until he gets out of his coverless elven moss-bed... the air immediately surrounding the bed stays a perfectly comfortable bathwater temperature, with a clear but invisible line of demarkation between zones.
Steven gets up, a bit groggilly, and yawning a little. He stands and takes a few breaths, doing his morning meditations, then moving smoothly into his exercises. He even manages to avoid ruminating on the novely of having survived another night in a room with, for all he knows, carnivorous furniture, and he doesn't even think to check that they're still in place until he finishes.
The chests of luggage all seem to be in the same place, except... except for that one. The one that-- did it really?-- kicked Steven with little bitty wooden feet, and stuck a woody tongue out at him between large rows of wooden teeth... That one has moved to the foot of the bed. Steven's pretty sure that he last saw it against the wall...
Steven frowns, looking at the chest. he looks between where he thought it was, and where it is now.. and tries not to think any paranoid thoughts. For now. he goes out into the main room, casting a single glance over his shoulder at the chest, worriedly.
The chest does not stir while Steven is looking at it... although he does hear a soft creak behind him after he turns around again to see that the main room contains no one else but him and the usual fruity rainbow of breakfast.
Steven pauses... and really, really resists the temptation to look back. he swallows; it had to have been his imagination. It HAD to have been. he will NOT look back. Instead, he checks to see if the others are awake (and in what rooms) though he doesn't open up the rooms if they're closed. Then he sits and starts breakfast.
Neither door is open; both are opaqued, suggesting occupants, though in what arrangement is not obvious. After Steven is almost finished with breakfast, Soleil emerges from his door looking very calm, and gives Steven a quick smile. The sunny elf walks over to monopolize the strawberries, dressed for riding and not a short golden hair out of place.
Steven smiles to Soleil, and asks, "So.. what is it that you'll be doing today?" Curiosity makes him ask, "And will they be horses you're riding?"
Soleil smiles around a strawberry and starts to swallow before he can answer. At Steven's second question, he chokes and bends double in a helpless coughing fit.
Steven blinks, and moves to help. "Are you all right? What's wrong...?!"
Soleil gives Steven a look as though he's not sure Steven is serious for a moment, as he recovers himself. He answers a little hoarsely as his throat clears, "I'll be joining the Prince on his morning ride with Clairchiare in attendance... and as I'm not on those sort of terms with either Prince Lyriquin or Clairchiare, yes, we will all be riding horses."
Steven nodnods, "Sorry.. it's just... er.. learned not to take anything for granted here..."
Sol's eyes flicker to Seodil's door-- or perhaps he's just thinking for a moment. He nods, and eats another strawberry as his riding chaperone arrives in a swirl of cheerful pinks, today's coat light rose and grey silk. Clairchiare's hair is one long braid behind him today, hanging to mid-thigh even braided. It looks paler pink today; maybe it's the light. Bowing to first Sol, then Steven, Clairchiare says "Greetings, Prince Soleil, Lord Steven."
Steven blinks at the appellation of 'Lord.' "Oh! Good morning to you!" He does his best to return the bow.
Soleil grunts hello around a strawberry and waves a vague hand at the pink elf. Not at all offended, Clairchiare perches on the edge of the couch and beams at them both. "Steven, after I return with your prince, shall we discuss our philosophies of life?"
Steven smiles quietly, trying to shake the thought that he's ofended Sol somehow. "Oh, ah, certainly, that would be very enjoyable." I wonder to what extent Lord Pelor is known by the elves? And.. why it's apparently not looked upon favorably?
Clairchiare says with apparent delight, "Excellent!" and gets no further before Soleil stands up again and says quietly, "I'll see you when we return, Steven... pleasant morning to you." Clairchiare smiles at Steven and immediately falls into step with Sol as the less-than-sunny golden elf heads out. The suite falls into quiet again as their footsteps recede on the path outside, and the next several minutes are broken by nothing more remarkable than noticing that the air is definitely warming back up a little now that the sun's been up.
The door of Seodil's room opens and Aiden comes out, fairly recently showered and fully dressed. He tosses a smile at Steven, "Morning!" He heads over towards breakfast, and takes a handful of strawberries, sitting back on the couch to eat them.
Steven smiles to Aiden. "Good morning, Aiden. Soleil just left for his ride with the Prince and Clairchiare."
Aiden glances over at the open door and nods, "I thought I'd missed him. How're you?"
Seodil follows Aiden almost immediately, hair damp and neatly dressed as well in one of his new dove-grey outfits. He's smiling as he strolls over to select grapes and oranges at the breakfast table.
Steven says, "Not too bad, thank you." He declines to mention his furniture rearranging itself at night. "How are you this morning?" He starts to nibble on some breakkgast fruits."
Aiden smiles, "Great, thanks."
Steven notices Seodil flick a very interested look sideways at Aiden to see what he answers to "how are you this morning." Aiden does not. Seodil seems even a little... relieved, and smiling wider, when Aiden answers "great."
Steven notices the odd look that Seodil makes to Aiden, but makes nothing of it. He nods quitly, and smiles. "Glad to hear it. So.. what's on the agenda for today?"
Aiden says, "Do you want to go over what we have from yesterday?"
Aiden adds, "I can fill Sol in tonight."
Steven nods, "Yes, that might be good. We've got a lot of mysteries on our hands.."
Seodil meanders to sit on the other end of Aiden's couch, a more than polite distance between them. He eats his grapes one by one, tossing them up and catching them in his mouth. The silver elf seems relaxed and at ease, very close to outright cheerful. Tilting his head at the others, he says "What you have? New light to shed on our darkness, then-- was the library fruitful?"
Aiden nods, "I noticed something else when I was writing it all down.. Hang on." He nods at Seodil as he stands, "It was." He goes into his room and digs into the pocket of his backpack, grabbing the folded bit of paper and his pen. He brings it back and smooths it out on the table. "We weren't sure where to start, so we started with your family, Seodil."
Seodil nods, "Go on."
Steven nods quietly. "The book in fact was open to your page. Ilirith was looking up the Avaret family, trying to find you.
Aiden says, "We actually didn't go after your name first. We found this diary when we were looking around in other parts of the library, so we decided to look the name of the writer up. It turns out it was your father. Also, Clairchiare's father, according to the book."
Seodil loses a little relaxation, eyes more closed. "And was I there?"
Aiden says, "You were there, Seodil, but listed as having died the year you were born."
With no apparent reaction at all, Seodil nods to Aiden, and says "So. We share a father? I am surprised she would try twice what failed once... and I had thought he was dead in my own childhood, but I should have known she would lie."
Aiden says, "Well.. That's the odd part, and the part I didn't notice until I came back here and wrote this stuff down. Your birth and death were listed as the year 5760. Clairchiare was born in 5810, but your father's death is also listed as being 5760."
Seodil blinks at Steven and says, "Why was she trying to find me?"
Aiden looks up at Seodil. "I think she was hoping that you'd, ah, contribute to your family line."
Steven says, "Curiosity, I think." He glances to Aiden. "Er.. and, well, yes, that as well. She seemed mildly keen on the Averet line continuing."
The silver elf goes still, and turns back to Aiden. "That's... not possible. The Book does not lie, although my mother does." His eyes go wider at the family line idea, and he snorts hard, looking from Aiden to Steven at the latter's affirmation. "So, I must terrify Ilirith next? Thank you."
Steven blinks. "Uh... Terrify her? Why would you do that?"
Aiden says, "Ilirith didn't seem to think it was possible that you were listed as being dead, if that was indeed you in the book. That's why these numbers didn't make any sense. She did say something about it being impossible to change the book, except with powerful magic."
Seodil mutters, "It should not be so much work to convince a court that they do not want me after they have already thrown me out once."
Aiden looks at Seodil. "Did you know that your father was of Winter?" He winces inwardly even as he's saying it. He's not sure how Seodil is going to react, but he has a right to know.
Steven swallows a bit. He's not really looking forward to hearing Seodil's answer to that question.
Seodil says to Steven, "To make her leave me out of her family planning, of course," and then Aiden's question hits and he just goes quiet for a moment.
Regaining his sarcastic face after a moment of pure fury showing through, the silver elf says, "So. It was not-- or should not have been-- such a surprise that I came out pale after the blood washed away, then. Half my blood was cold and pallid by rights, and she knew."
Aiden nods, "If his name was any indication. He was known as Setisel the White. He didn't describe himself in his journal, but, I doubt that title came out of no where."
Seodil laughs. His face is cold and the laughter bitter.
Steven nods a little at Seodil's answer, then he blinks at Seodil's comment. "That's probably a good assumption, Aiden," he says quietly. "it would explain why he was talking about going off to... kill.. so many of his friends.
Aiden says, "That was about as far as we got with your family, Seodil. We did take a look at the Shh family and found a few interesting.. coincidences."
Still laughing softly, eyes hard, Seodil nods. "And, Aiden?"
Aiden says, "Rathskeliad is older than you, by about fifty years. His mother is Elis Shh, and his father.. died the year he was born."
Steven remains quiet, listening to this. He feels.. tense. He isn't really sure how Seodil will react to all this information, and part of him is really scared of Seodil, still. He dreads the temper that the silver-haired elf has. And he's not at all sure that he's seen the full extent of it. But as worried about Seodil as he is, he doesn't want to leave Aiden in the lurch here.
Seodil says, "Wonder if my mother killed them both," and smiles. "I should not assume, however. Elis was always overzealous in her duties as Adjuster and close as a vine on my mother... I well recall her, oh yes..." He trails off a moment, a little smile still playing on his lips. "Right before I left, together they bled me into a bowl and cut locks of my hair to 'dye'-- yet another try at changing my hue." His short laugh is soft. "It must have been the last try. They sent me away the day after that." He sits, smiling eerily.
Aiden shakes his head, angry. "Seodil, your mother.. is a complete bitch. No one deserves that sort of treatment at the hands of someone who is supposed to nuture and care." He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath. "That was all that we found, except a note in your father's journal that he'd apparently killed someone from the Averet family. Timin? We didn't get much farther than that, we didn't have a lot of names to work with."
Seodil just shakes his head. "The name is not familiar. I was really not taught very much of my family's history; she was waiting for me to prove I belonged to it first. Sorry I cannot help." His tone has gone back to being perfectly calm, though he still smiles.
Steven says, "No.. nobody deserves that, Seodil. You may not be wanting to hear it, but it's true. And we believe that completely."
Aiden nods at Steven's words. "We'll try him next time we go back, unless you would prefer that we not dig into your family's history."
The silver elf tilts his head at Aiden, then Steven, and says in a somewhat detached tone, "I thank you both... and as it is not particularly my family, I really do not care what you do to any of them, living or dead, but Clairchiare. He truly did not know, though I think he must have been conceived the year I left... though how, I do not know. I did not think Elis or Rluel had strong enough magic to affect such an artifact as the Book. Working together, they could not even change me."
Aiden shrugs, "I don't know. The numbers don't add up, unless maybe you were both concieved before your father died, and Clairchiare was held back somehow.. Or they had the ability to store your father's essence to use later. I don't know."
Aiden looks over at Steven. "We should probably try our names next time we're there. I didn't think of that. Seodil? Anyone else we should be looking for at the moment?"
Steven blinks to Aiden, then gapes. "You're right.. we should. I hadn't even thought of doing that! in fact someone probably already is, or would be if they knew out last names...
Aiden nods, "Good thing they don't. I'd rather we get there first, just in case there are any surprises."
Seodil sighs, "That is one thing I wish I did know. Clairchiare is my very image, and yet... faced with a choice between the Book or my mother as liar, I would choose my mother every time. Her power lay in gardening and cruelty, and Elis' in pain and trickery. I wish that we trusted someone who was alive when Setisel died, to tell us the true year... it would give us the liar."
The silver elf shakes his head, "No more names have I."
Aiden nods at Seodil. "It made sense to me, at the time, that you shared a father and mother. You two could be twins. That's why I didn't notice the dates until I sat down here to write them down."
Steven nods quietly. "We had thought it had been the same parents, within a few years at most....
Aiden says, "Alright. We'll just keep going and hope we get something more to go on, in that case."
Seodil nods, and says "Are you going back today?"
Aiden says, "I believe we're supposed to return at some point today with Sarete, if she actually comes back." He grins slightly at that, and then frowns, "Oh, shit. I meant to get Sol's last name last night.."
Seodil blinks. "You do not have it?"
Aiden sighs and shakes his head, "I do not."
Aiden says, "I.. never thought to ask."
Steven nods, "And hopefully before someone here finds it first. I.. don't like what they can do with information here." He blinks to Aiden. "Would.. uh...." He glances to Seodil.
Steven's unasked question is, of course, WOuld Seodil have it? But he's not about to ask that; it sounds rude...
Seodil frowns, pauses, and says "I cannot be surprised he does not use it, since we were hunting him and his full name on the wind would have reached us to betray his location."
Steven says sheepishly, "I.. guess that means you don't know it either."
Aiden nods, "He said once that names were power and I never asked more than that. His full name never seemed important before. I'll ask about it tonight."
Seodil looks at Steven and seems about to answer, then Aiden speaks and the silver elf pauses before saying "That might be best. A name is a personal thing, and to choose not to use it is no less personal." He smiles, thinly.
Steven says, "Actually...."
Steven says, "Aiden.. maybe it's better if you don't."
Aiden says, "Completely unrelated to that, I actually had a couple of questions for you, Seodil, if you don't mind. Mostly just out of idle curiousity. What is the Summer Court called? The Winter Court is the Palace of Blood on Snow, but we've never heard the Summer Court's name. Also, the cloaks we wear.. Is there something similar here? We seem to be the only ones walking around with anything like them."
Steven says, "We don't know if the book can remember inquiries.. and we don't want something like that in the possession of... others."
Aiden glances at Steven, "True.."
Seodil sighs and says reluctantly to Steven, "No, he should. Summer knows, already; it is the ruling family of Winter's name ever since they had a Queen from that line and mixed in demon blood. It is just not my place to say if Soleil is ashamed of it; it would not endear me to him to take his chance to admit it himself."
Steven nods. "We seem to be the only ones who change into anything. Should that be something we keep secret?"
Seodil looks at Aiden and says, "Oh, Winter called Summer a good many things when they were being polite and otherwise. The City of Burning Light was the most common, I'd say, and fairly polite. They like to name themselves the Flame Everlasting. My old teacher liked to call them the Desert of Affection." He shrugs.
Steven says, "We remember seeing that first name: The City of Burning Light...."
Aiden nods, "Thank you."
Aiden nods at Steven, "The journal.."
Fingering his own everpresent silver fur, held on by cloak-clips, Seodil says "Summer is well aware what these mean, but to change into fur in front of them would be somewhat insulting. They consider it beneath them to be permanently tied to the change in this way, and although their mages sometimes change shape temporarily, they prefer to summon beasts to do their bidding. Summer acts through minions where possible rather than risking harm by doing a thing in person."
Steven nods quietly. "All right. Thank you. We know what not to do, then.
Aiden chuckles softly, "And if you don't mind a little more interrogation, people are starting to ask where we're from. What do we tell them?"
Seodil flashes Steven a grin. "Unless, of course, you want to be insulting. If all goes badly and we get no aid-- well. I would do it before I left."
Steven says, "Somehow I think 'the Grey World' will not go over well..."
Aiden nods, "That's what I was thinking."
Seodil makes a soft sound and says, "That.. is more difficult. You might be a focus of more interest if you did tell them the Grey World, but Summer has been known to keep as many pets from raids there as Winter has, too. You would be both a curiousity and a potential target, beneath them. You are obviously not all elven, but there are other things you could be that keep them cautious still."
Aiden says, "I managed to deflect Rathskeliad's question, at least for now."
Seodil grins and says, "For all they know, you are Soleil's demonkin. -Oh, well done, Aiden."
Aiden grins, "I told him the truth, in a roundabout way. He asked where I was from, and I told him that I'm from a small fishing village, which is absolutely true."
Footsteps approach on the path outside, and Sol's voice says "Oh-- back from the library already? I thought I was early..."
Aiden looks over at Sol and smiles. "Morning. We haven't even gotten there yet. How was your morning ride?"
Seodil chuckles at Aiden, quieting immediately as Sol returns.
Steven blinks. ".. Pets? From raids?" He knows that it sounds stupid, but he asks it that way anyway. But as Sol approaches, he stops asking questions, and smiles to Sol and whomever is with him. "Welcome back!"
Smiling back, Soleil says "Cut short by more news of that beast. The Prince went dashing off to his maps again to determine its range and plan the hunt. Do you have time to come see the trophy he won off the last encounter?"
Clairchiare walks in a little behind Sol and smiles cheerfully at everyone.
Seodil catches Steven's eye and nods. Quietly, he says "Yes."
Aiden's been quite curious about this trophy since he heard about it. He nods, "I don't see why not." He sweeps the piece of paper off of the table and folds it, casually when Clairchiare walks in. "Good morning, Clairchiare."
Steven nods a little to Seodil at that one's answer, then smiles quietly to Sol. "I'm curious about it as well, certainly." Some part of him wonders if its' going to be some sort of horrific surprise when they see it. Something eerilly familiar and yet... not....
Clairchiare grins and sweeps a hand at the group, "Steven and I can talk on the way, then. My legs are up to the journey-- the horses did most of our work today, after all!"
Steven smiles and nods, "I'll be glad for that, certainly!
Aiden grabs his pen, and goes, quickly to drop it and the piece of paper back into his backpack, returning to the room as soon as he's zipped the pocket back up.
Seodil shrugs and gets off the couch arm as Soleil starts to lead the group off in a new direction.
Along the way, Clairchiare starts to talk to Steven about his philosophy a little; he seems to believe in compassion and loyalty above all things, if his words are in earnest. It's hard to have a serious conversation and keep up with Sol at the same time on new and winding paths, however, and they arrive at the trophy room before scratching more than the surface.
Aiden seems quite content to walk quietly along with Sol, though he does keep his eyes and ears open to what's happening around them, just in case.
Once in the trophy room itself, the group is confronted by row upon row of heads, whole creatures, horns and various other pieces stuffed and mounted-- on stands, in glass cases, hung on walls... the elven architecture and arrangement, surprisingly likelife, make it all the more macabre.
Aiden looks around the room, eyes widened slightly. The macabre scene is creeping him out a bit.
Clairchiare says with not exactly approving tones, "Once we had a menagerie, I am told, and kept the fantastic close but alive. Perhaps one day soon we will have a Queen who can tame hearts rather than a policy of silencing them."
The rose elf adds, "When threats appear, however, we must hunt them down lest them do more damage. The hunt soon to come is one I can believe in-- we know what it eats, and it cannot live near us."
Aiden nods quietly at Clairchiare's words. He shies away from looking at most of the displays for more than a few moments, finding them incredibly sad. The collection is not one that he would be proud of.
Steven throughly enjoys the conversation, maintaining it as best as he can even with the long walk. He's fascinated; it's very much like what his teacher had been instructing him, and the lessons of Lord Pelor. However, for the time being he doesn't inquire into the nature of the "Golden Lord." He knows Clairchiare said he wouldn't try to "convert" him, and that seems to make it something of a subject not to touch upon for the time being. He limits his questions and answers to philosophy, then; there was enough Taoist doctrin in what he learned from his Teacher that he can not entirely mention Pelor directly.
Soleil tugs Aiden along by one hand, grabbing it with a conspiratorial grin, and leads the group around the corner. Pointing at the bright green car bumper adorning the wall in front of them, he says "They had a devil of a time trying to decide how to mount it, but at least it didn't need preserving. Carapace is dry but not that brittle."
Steven enters the trophy room, with a queasy mixture of fascination and mild dread. He never liked places like this. Museums were one thing... but trophy rooms were quite another. Like taking bits and pieces of kills were some form of machismo, or proof of superiority over the fallen. To his mind, it was only a short step from there to mounting one's enemies' heads on the wall... and he didn't exactly rule that practice out, either. His attitude surprises him somewhat; he's seen the brutality of the corrupted Winter Court, yet seeing it in the Summer Court, which is supposed to be the civilized, uncorrupted court....
Steven stops that thinking; they're two different places. He concentrates on the here and now, letting his curiosity win out over his queasiness.
Aiden looks at the bumper, then looks over at Steven, his face a mask of conflicting emotions, though the urge to laugh is the most overwhelming one.
Steven says, "That was spot..."
Steven stares at the bumper... he had NOT expected this!
Aiden still looking at Steven says, with an almost completely straight face, "Fahrfegnugen."
Sol looks at Aiden, eyes bright. "Oooo. Is that what it is? You know these?"
Aiden looks at Sol, not even sure where to start. "Well.. Yeah, I do, actually."
Steven says, "... You don't say, Aiden...." He swallows. "I.. wonder what the heck had been going on.... and who the person within was."
Aiden says quietly, to Steven, "Maybe Birch brought it?"
Aiden says, "She struck me as the Beetle type..."
Steven has to actually stifle a laugh at that. "Ahemn... mmm. Maybe. I can -- heh -- see that.
Aiden looks back up at the bumper, his face absolutely bewildered - and horribly, horribly amused.
Steven murmurs, "Do you think the person in the stomach was the driver? And how do you think they'll feel?" He can't be sickened and terrified anymore.
The bright green bumper is still mounted on the wall on a handsome long piece of dark stained wood as a trophy board. It appears to be just the curved fiberglass/plastic part that came off... and it's rather dented; looks like maybe the elves were whacking it with swords.
All the elves are giving Aiden and Steven very odd looks.
Aiden rubs his hands over his face. "Yeah.. Bet it was the driver." He's not really even looking at the others. He can't yet figure out how to start explaining that their adversary will only be a threat until it runs out of gas...
Sol pokes Aiden in the ribs and mutters "Enough already, tell me!" at the same time Clairchiare politely says, "Steven? ...You know the nature of this beast?"
Aiden looks at Sol, and then at Seodil and says, "It's from home."
Steven glances to Aiden, and nods soberly in agreement.
The Winter elves' eyebrow fly up in unison. Clairchiare looks as though he's getting tired of being polite and is thinking about being blunter.
Aiden sighs quietly, glancing quickly at Clairchiare, then back at Sol and Seodil. "May I explain myself?" Clairchiare, I hope you're 'safe'.
Soleil looks very sober, then nods. Seodil says, "It is your choice."
Aiden takes a deep breath, then says, "Clairchiare. I'm not from here. I'm not from Winter, either, strictly speaking. I'm from the Grey World.. And so is that.." he points at the bumper on the wall.
Steven frowns a bit to Aiden, then considers. There isn't too much they have to loose, but... Hopefully Clairchiare will be safe. its' too late to turn back now, now that Aiden mentioned it."
Clairchiare is obviously startled, and then his golden eyes are bright and curious. "So... you know how to hunt it, then?" He seems to be struggling for something tactful to say, and that won first.
Aiden says, "We don't hunt them. We drive them. We use them to get from one place to another."
Steven says, "They're... transportation. Sort of like horses."
Clairchiare says, "Oh," and then "So... we need to hunt the rider, instead? Or could it be wild?"
Soleil says helpfully, "It could be feral."
Steven tries very hard to not laugh at the idea of a feral car.
Aiden says, "They're.. Not alive. They're machines. You'd want the driver, the person that controls it."
Eyeing Steven, Seodil says, "I am getting the impression they may not be dangerous at all, Clairchiare."
Steven looks mildly uncomfortable under Seodil's gaze. "Er... no, they aren't. They don't function at all without someone controlling it.
Clairchiare just nods thoughtfully, and says "You know that the Prince Lyriquin needs to know this."
Aiden nods slowly.
The rose elf considers the group, and says, "You are all going with us on this hunt." His tone brooks no argument.
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