Departure

I think he disapproved of not finding us in his house where he had left us, but instead an inn room, where I needed time to think. I’m still not sure how much to tell him, and how much to not. I needed time to think, to work out a plan in my head, and to better study the books I had.. borrowed, two, one from his own library, as well as one from my return visit to Ar’s.

I told him that I would be going to Port Cos to study, an excuse offered of learning the arts of Scribing. It wasn’t completely untrue, it just wasn’t.. the entire truth. I asked him if I could take Charm with me and he raised his chin in the manner he always does when I am about to tell him something he does not wish to hear.

He told me to leave my daughter here, turned to the door, and offered me a box before he stepped out. I anger him so easily, but this time I realized he had a reason. And a good one. Once again I was taking his daughter from him.

Within the box lay a golden ink well, one intricately adorned, with a gold stylus and quill. It also had the word love written on it in his native language, something I have only recently found out.

I even tried to hug him, but he shook his head, putting his hand up to stop me. He said he would see me when he got back. But I was not so sure I would ever see him again. I was not so sure I would ever be back.

He left me standing there, staring at the inside of a closed door, I grasping at what I could.. should tell him. Some ihns past.. perhaps even an ehn, before I could find enough courage to open the door and go after him. I told him that if he did not wish for me to take our child, then she should stay with him. It would mean I would have less time with her, but perhaps mend a small tear in the fence between her father and I. He thought it was simply because I am a selfish woman that I would put myself first, while he was second best. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but I could not share that with him. Not yet, not until I was sure I could..

No. I had only wanted to spend as much time I as could. I would have her for only a few more months, while he would have her for a lifetime. But I did not correct him. I was pained, twisted inside with unsaid truths. I had thought I was doing the right thing, so sure that I had pinpointed each and every detail. But there is always something overlooked. But it was when I told him I was leaving this very night that he lost control, something he rarely does. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to hurt me and I told him I would not go if he did not wish me to. Perhaps the time we have left would be better spent together, other than me searching for something that perhaps does not exist, a wisp of smoke in foggy morn.

He told me he wished he had more time with me. How could I tell him our days were numbered? How could I reveal the whispered words of my mother? Oh, Kings, how could I not?

I lied. I told him he had forever with me. I told him that it wouldn’t be that long. If he only knew. If I was only brave enough to tell him.

I am a coward.

So instead I whispered words of lies, misleading words that mingled with the prediction of truth. I revealed only a single prophecy. That I was pregnant. That he will soon be a father, again.

But Charm knows. She knows I carry a son, as do I. A boy that will break the curse of only females being born into the future generation of my line. The curse will end with me.

But now there is another aspect of this charade. Charm has been talking to Aiden, dreaming of him, sharing secrets with him. He calls to her, asking if Castor and I are still together and telling her that some day he is going to come and see her and her brother, that he will take them away on an exciting adventure.

The well has been opened, the future has been decreed.

And I can not stop it.

No one can.

The Library

A sea of knowledge, a vestibule of faith. They litter lands in both public venues and private proclamations. And with every answer they give, they only raise more questions.

I had promised Charming I would show here a place where her imagination could take root, bud and bloom into something wonderful. However, this wasn’t my only reasoning for wanting to visit the library this night, it was only my excuse.

Charm saw him first, the curly haired Scribe she has become so fond of, a man who makes her paper playthings, buys her books and never treats her as the child she is. To him she is only a small adult, and though he may not understand her most of the time, he never loses his patience with her constant inquiries or the exploration of tiny fingers into his hair.

I am not yet ready to share my mother’s secret, and so, as not to raise suspicion, I followed in my daughter’s footsteps, taking a seat across from the man I have come to know as family. Though my main agenda in the library had changed, I had yet another that I needed to take care of.

I told him I wanted to petition the council of Ar to change my caste status and asked him if he could help me. Even through my plague of nervousness I did not expect him to deny me, but what he did offer me was more than a surprise.

Though he has no sway with the council, he would help me learn what I needed to know in an effort to pass whatever was needed to see me ascended. He had the items I needed, but most of things were harbored at the Academy in Port Cos. More libraries for me to explore.

Charm will undoubtedly take the caste of her father, though I’m not sure that she will practice the craft. I’m rather sure that’s what the vision meant. But for reasons I could not reveal, this is something I need do for myself, as well as I now know it will give me a better access to the books I need. I did not lie to Lucian, but I could not tell him the entire truth. It’s too soon. There are things I must learn on my own first.

What came next was one small shock after another. He told me that their was a trunk of clothing for both Charm and I, mine hued in browns and greens, while Charm’s were the obvious soft tones of pink. Something that Bonnie had taken the time to gather for us. I owed her a thank you.

The second was that he wished to create a trust for Charm. This is where I could not deceive him, so I explained that Charm and I were not destitute. That, in fact there was quite a bit of coin set aside for us from her father. I just.. preferred not to use it. And I had not, not a copper touched since he had set it aside for us. I told him that I had accepted his offer of coming to stay in his House and take the position of cook because I wished to make our own way, and I by accepting his offer now, I felt as if I would be taking advantage of him. Of his kindness, and if he wished to put something away for his adopted niece, that he should be the executer of whatever he set aside.

I could tell he was trying to word his next sentence carefully, taking his time to place proper words in perfect places. He would have none of it, saying that I would be the executor. That it didn’t matter the funds from her father, it was something he needed to do. Me, executor, if only there was time.

But time is not something I have to sacrifice.

I have already resigned myself to the harder path, a path that is not set in stone, but one that does give me a choice, a better chance at the outcome that I see.

I would come back to the library tomorrow to seek what I truly needed.

I do not enjoy dealing with my own mortality.

Mapmaker, Mapmaker

I brought up the subject of changing my caste, something I should have taken care of long ago. I had always thought it easier, after being freed from my slavery, just to take the Caste of Entertainers, considering my skills. This and it offered me a certain amount of safety while traveling, but this was all before I ever had an inkling of having a child. How can I steal her heritage away from her? My father was a Scribe, so is it really fair that I take that possibility away from Charm?

I believe Castor was pleased when I brought up the fact that I wanted to raise my status, he had never liked the idea of my having taken on a caste of peasants, something he often .. speaks of. I told him that I thought I might like to take on a sub caste of map making, fascinated by some of the ancient maps I have seen.

We spoke of this for some moments before he took my hand and led me downstairs and into his library. He wanted to know if I did this, if I would put my gift to rest, but I can not give up the gift. Rence commands that I be true to the cards.

His library was actually quite amazing, but it was what lay beyond the reading room that I found most interesting. Maps. Hundreds of them. Strewn about on table, some rolled and tucked away in small cubbies. I knew I could spend countless days in here looking at them, studying them and imagining where they might lead.

I walked about the room, my fingers dragging along scrolls, wondering where each map would take me to. I like touching, seeing, learning about old things. Noachian wisdoms from the past, a window in time, where secrets toil and whisper, where it doesn’t matter who you are, only what they were.

I had not even finished my exploration, when Castor drew my attention to a black curtain wall.

I have always wondered if it would all stop with me. The cards, the readings, for Charm is so different. She knows things that I can not explain, and this she does without the telling of small squared pieces of rence. Sometimes I think perhaps they will inhibit her powers. Castor has seen this as well.

I stepped towards the curtain, just in time for him to tell me never mind, that he didn’t think I was ready to see what lay beyond. This of course only added fuel to my already kindled curiosity.

He pulled the black curtain back to show me an altar, upon its surface several objects, but it was the large silver bowl of water which attracted me. I noticed little other then the dripping of water that never seemed to rise into its depths.

My muscles twitched and my senses seemed alive, as if each was attached to a single current of awareness. He asked me why I found myself intrigued by the water, but I did not speak, for in the meantime, his fingers had dipped into the eternally rippling surface, a legion of screams rising up, before damp digits were pressed to my forehead.

I felt dizzy; my feet unsteady my body swaying when the vision played in my mind. I was immediately summoned into the world of dreams, where I saw Charm at the age of sixteen, tending a garden of herbs. Knowledge is Power and she had taken the caste of her father, but she was.. different.

When I awoke an instant later, I was frowning with the enormous effort of bringing my attention from the infinitely distant point of the future, to the present. He told me that I was stronger than I thought and that when we went to his homeland that I should seek the hall of knowledge for my own training.

He picked me up and carried me out, still weakened by a bond that was not yet broken; a link that I was to find had a greater hold on me than even I wished to admit. Though I could see perfectly, with clarity I had never envisioned before, he told me my eyes were white, blinded with a lack of color. This made no sense to me, for I was seeing a colorful energy around every object in the room, including the man who knelt beside me with such concern.

I bid him to take me back, back to the room of primordial secrets, for I was not yet finished.

He refused me at first, and I could see the fear in his eyes, but the farther I strayed from the center of fixated illusion, the dizzier.. and sicker I became, until finally he relented.

Naked I knelt, in front of the alter, listening to a voice I had not heard since I had left the safety of my island all those years ago. It was the voice of my mother and she was leading me on towards a tender passage, explaining to me that I should not be afraid, that my eyes had been opened.. and so much more.

When I was finally finished I rose to my feet, reaching for the small sharp dagger that rested atop the alter. The flesh on my palm was cut, a sharing of blood needed to fulfill the ritual, but he had denied me. And I could not tell him why. It was not given freely, he telling me there would be no blood shed in this room.

But there had to be.

I left the room with a calm I have never felt before, an acceptance that has never been granted, and a secrets I could not share. At least.. not all of them.

A path now lies in front of me, one guided by light, its forked counterpart guided by darkness. I may choose either, for both will break the curse that has been placed upon me, placed upon my children. The path of light is clear, its ending seen, its closing noble and I need do nothing other than continue on.

The second, however, is riddled with danger and perhaps lost hope. Blood can no longer be shed to protect the precious. It is a race against time, but I believe I understand where to begin.

I am the Storm

We each retired to our separate rooms, but I found I could not sleep. Castor had been right, a storm was rolling in. I spent an ahn with Charm, reading one of her favorite books to her, before I tucked her in for the night. Luckily, my room adjoined hers and I would hear if she needed me.

He was so close, just across the hallway, and yet he seemed further out of reach to me then all the months, years he had been gone.

I stood gazing out of the large picture window, which provided me the perfect view of the storm, which was now releasing its full fury. Branches twisted in the wind, the heavy drops pulling the leaves from their limbs.

I felt.. lost, the numbness was beginning to wear off., but the rain was calming to me, somehow tranquil despite all its anger, and I could hear the thunder looming closer, along with the bright flashes of lightening. And then I began to tremble. As much as I love a storm, the power behind this one was awe inspiring, and drawing me closer. I stepped to the window, the heat of my palms flushed against the coolness of glass, as if somehow, I might become a part of it. I couldn't have been more correct. I could see it, the tree being struck by a brilliant shard of flickering fire, and I could see the top of it falling.. towards me, but I couldn't move, my feet transplanted in quicksand. Before I knew it, I heard the snap of thunder echoing around me, and felt the shards of glass that were hurling through the once intact window I had been standing against. I think I screamed and then closed my eyes, waiting to feel the impending impaling of a branch through my chest, but instead, I felt the weight and force of it against me, knocking me to the ground and ripping the air from my lungs. Castor was suddenly beside me, both of us fighting against the ancient limbs that were clawing at us. My.. death dream. Or so it felt.

He picked my up and carried me to his room and I started to cry. Even though beyond the bits of glass in my hair, and a few scratches I was fine, inside I was an emotional outcast, unable to control or define that part of me that was usually so quiet and adept. I sobbed like a child, clutching his arm, his shoulder, whatever part was available to me.

Soaking wet, I pulled myself from my clothing while he retrieved for me something dry to wear, a shift of green silk, something he had picked for me without my even knowing it. He tended my cuts and he bid me to rest, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

I was quiet for a time, still, but through all this I was raging inside. I wanted him, near me, around me, inside of me. I wanted to feel his body pressed against mine. I wanted to feel his breath on my neck. I wanted him to lay beside me, and my arm extended, with fur in hand, opening it in invitation to him. Two ahns ago he was belittling me, and now I wanted nothing more than to nestle up next to him and forget. Something he granted me.

We kissed. We cuddled. And before I knew it, I was on his lap, a hungry meeting of lips caught within the tempestuous liaison of surreal iniquity.

The wind had blown open the shuttered windows, ruffling the drapes in lingering laps of an icy tongue. The room grew cold, heat encapsulated only within the two shadowed forms now entangled atop the bed, intertwined in irresponsible reasoning.

I was shivering, my body spiked in cold rapture, my moans bordering on quiet sobs. I wanted him, this man who had hurt me over and over. I needed him, lost without the crux to which I had surrendered. The storm continued to resound around me, but it wasn't the storm outside that frightened, that threatened me, but the storm that was raging inside of me. The brutal force of nature that I had succumbed to so long ago.

I am nothing. Without him I am only vapor. He is the catalyst to my existence.
And..
I am the storm.

Losses

I panicked, I lost my composure and perhaps my temper, and that is something I am not prone to do. He had had Charm in his custody for a hand, leaving me with no word. When finally the note came that I could find them at his House, I wasted no time.

At first I thought he was steering me towards the fact that he was going to take Charm from me, permanently and send her to Armarna, that he didn’t intend to allow me to stifle her in my peasantry. That I was obsessed with her and instead of trying to enhance her abilities, I treated her too much like a regular child.

And he had arranged for her to go to Armarna.

I panicked, I begged. I felt the icy fingers of faithlessness crawl up my back, then tighten around my throat.

He called me selfish, self righteous, presumptuous, again the word peasant inserted for good measure. He asked me what I knew about raising a child with such gifts. He called me a fool and ordered me to leave his house.

But I would not leave. If he wanted me out, he would have to bodily put me out, something I knew he would do without another thought, but I would not leave on my own. I had suddenly transformed into a stubborn woman, a word he had left out.

But soon I understood. Had I really been so selfish in not seeing past my own wants? My own needs? Was I trying to create something between us that would never come to pass? I never thought that I would have a child, let alone a family, and he was right. I wanted it. But at what cost?

I would have her until the age of twelve, at which time she would be sent to his people to better learn her gift for six months out of the year. Until then, twice a year, spring and fall, either I or Castor would take her for a full month.

And then he told me I was free of him, that we were never formally companioned by a magistrate. That there were several accounts with thousands in them as well as a cottage in Fulvian for us. That I was to make sure our daughter lacked for nothing and that she did not live in squawler. And that he loved us.

He bid me to stay in the guest room, due to the coming storm. Tomorrow morning, I could take Charm back with me.

Again the words echoed in my ears. Free of him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

House of Secrets

She bid me to promise her I would stay, and I did, promising to stay as long as I could. The tension was so heavy, so thick in the air I could almost reach out and touch it. I felt as if I might have intruded upon some sibling séance, where the past was quickly catching up to the future, while leaving me caught in the present. I tried to talk to Lucian, at Bonnie’s request, but he is much like me, resisting the urge to share feelings and facts that are too personal, too painful. I worry about him. I worry about them both. Bonnie called me.. family.

Charming is growing by leaps and bounds, a bright and brilliant child who fills my days with joy. Her red curls are untamable, her smile infectious. Her favorite color is pink, and soon, so will the walls of her room. Both Bonnie and Lucian have been wonderful for her and I hope she has been good for them as well.

I have not seen Castor for a couple of days now, so tomorrow Charm and I will go back to the inn to see if he still has a room there. I never know where I will find him, or where he will find me, or what shape he’ll be in when I see him. At least my bruises have healed. His bruises are internal and ones I believe he shall carry forever. I miss him.

Yes

We fight. We make up. And then we fight again.

I hate fighting. I detest it. It’s not even what I would consider real fighting, for neither of us ever raises our voice, but the words hurt no less, his words crueler than mine.

And yet I accept it. I always feel the need to prove myself to him, time and time again. I offer things I would otherwise never offer, I try to find words to soothe his ego, but he does not understand me any more than I can understand him. The one thing we have in common often seems to rip us apart.

I have learned much about him over the past twenty ahns, more than I have learned in the last four years. Sex to him is pleasure, not love and emotions neutralize when he indulges in pleasures of the flesh. I have learned that he frequents one particular brothel often and that he prefers the company of three, women who could be my sisters, or worse, my twin. He does not differentiate from these women, calling them all by my name, Astraea. I don’t know whether to be exalted, or terrified.

I find myself resisting as not to lose myself in his temptations, for I know it is a path that I can never return from, and yet, if I do not go willingly, will he drag me into the depths of his obsession? Or worse.. leave me.

I want a life with my child’s father; even though I know he’s not a man to settle down or be faithful. I love him, but can I love all of him without remorse? Can I accept the changes he instills in me? Can I submit my heart knowing he will never coddle it?

..Yes.

Blood Rain

I was looking forward to a quiet night with Castor, hoping for a romantic evening with just the two of us. Gabriel had come to pick up Charming, and I was already fantasizing about what the night would bring. We have so few of them.

It had started out well enough, with me lying in his arms while deep in conversation, but as with us often, such conversations lead to worded chaos.

I was lying alone in bed with the fur pulled up to my chin when the door burst open and the men entered, and kicking and screaming, one dragged me out by my hair, yelling at me, asking me where he was. Calling me.. whore.

I knew who he meant, or at least I thought I knew, until he asked for him by name. Keller. One of Castor’s alias’? Or did he have the wrong apartment?

Blood, it was suddenly everywhere, rivering towards me in crimson ribbons as I hid under the sleeping couch, staring into the eyes of death, staring into the vacant eclipse of an empty soul. I could hear the house slave screaming, and even though I knew I should not, I slithered out from beneath the couch, coated with another’s life essence, stepping into the main room to see another man fall. But not my man.

He looked like an avenging warlord in the midst of a macabre massacre, his muscles flexing beneath layers of red, his eyes feral and fearsome.

He shoved me beneath a shower of cold running water, then bid me to dress quickly. We had to leave.

Now, it was our turn to be the hunted.

He pulled me into a dark alley, then shoved me into a doored alcove, the heavy wooden structure closing just as the shouts of many passed by. My heart was beating wildly, my breath panting rapidly, my body flushed from the race.

It seemed we had lost them, at least for the time being. And in doing such, we had lost ourselves as well.

Just another day in the company of Castor.

Quiet Fears

Panic. I could feel it pulsing in every part of my body, the icy cold in the pit of my stomach veining outwards. I had returned from Lucian’s house to Castor’s apartment, to find no sign of father.. or daughter.

There was a moment when I thought he had taken her and disappeared, that I had perhaps angered him enough in some way that he would want to see how much he could hurt me. I paced for near half an ahn before they returned. He had simply taken her out, the two tired of being cooped up while I worked.

I knew as soon as he returned with her that I had over reacted, but still.. and even now as I write this, I can’t help but feel that I could lose her at any moment. I know I will lose him; it’s only a matter of time before he leaves again, and that I am resigned to. But to lose my daughter again would surely kill me.

Our relationship is one I have trouble putting into words. He descends upon Charm and I when I least expect it, and often leaves just as quickly. It is not a normal relationship by any means, and quite honestly, I’m not sure I would have it any other way. I realize he is a man who will never settle down, and as much as I’m sure he loves me, one woman will never be enough for him. We both know he would not be happy being a full time companion and father.

But then again, my life has never been normal. Why should any of my relationships be?

It’s only a Band-Aid that holds my heart together.

Walking on Shadows

Shadows. They lurk inside me, clawing to get out. I feel distant, transparent, an illusion from a forgotten time, an echo from the past that can barely be heard.

Or can it? The past, as I am well aware, always catches up with you, no matter how fast, or far, you run. It hides behind every corner, watching, waiting, materializing when you least expect it. It is a past that haunts, that will not allow you to forget and that possesses with the seed of vengeance. One that promises no escape. One that confines me in the covenant of a vow spoken so long ago, words that were once meant for forever.

I have always known the feeling of being followed, but such feelings decrease with time and non use. Though I could almost taste the bitter tinge of familiarity on my tongue, I could not, for all my otherworldly powers, see him. Not that I had expected to. He is a man who blends well behind the cloak of invisibility.

Charm and I had wandered into the Garden District, to Tia’s infamous bakery. My daughter has a sweet tooth far beyond anything I have ever possessed. The ahn was growing late and I wanted to get back to the house, so I had decided, against the small voice in my head, to take a short cut through a narrow alleyway.

Charmer. He had never truly liked the name I'd given our daughter, but he has aptly found a nickname that is more than suitable.

A rush of elation, compounded by the feeling of dread. It was a sign of the only man who could make me feel such conflicting emotions in a single breath, and even though I did not immediately turn around to face him, our child had, having little fear of the disembodied voice that echoed from behind the mask. But this was only because she did not remember it.

Both of Charm’s hands held tightly to my own and my heart constricted. He’d found me, us, the family he had forsaken more often then I could remember. Yes, he had found us again, just when the pieces of life’s puzzle had begun to fall into place. His timing was.. exquisite.

He was hurt when Charm did not rush into his open arms, but instead stood fixed, as if she was pondering the consequences of her actions. Sometimes I think she is a soul far older than me, her ability to see what other's cannot instinctual. Already she shows signs of knowing things she should have no understanding of. Sometimes, I fear for her. It will not be an easy life.

When it was apparent Charm would not be running into his open arms, he lifted from his crouched position to his feet, turned, and walked back towards the alley’s mouth. I should have let him go. I wanted to let him go. Every fiber of my being begged me to let him go, but I could not. I knew I had to follow him. I knew he wanted me to follow him.

When I stepped through the open door and into the semi darkness of his apartment’s hallway, trying to find him, I didn’t have to wait long until he pulled me to his side, whispering that he had missed me.

His next question was something I had heard often from him. The color of my clothing. I’ve always like the brown, it’s unassuming. It’s one of the things he’s always trying to change about me.

Charm watched him with eerie blue eyes that were exact duplicates of his own. I set her down on the floor and nudged her towards him. She seemed dubious, little brows furrowing, but she did take a step closer.. and another, until she was in arm's reach. She stood there, looking up at him, as if she expected something.. divine to happen. For a cold hearted killer, her father’s face was full of emotion.. and to my surprise, love.

It’s not that I have ever thought him incapable of such feelings; it’s just that I rarely have been allowed to glimpse that side of him. His eyes welled with tears and I could feel the lump in my throat growing larger. And I knew I could not allow myself to hope, for he would be gone as quickly as he came, a shadow in the night, disappearing in the darkness.

They spent the next two ahns getting to know each other, she telling him about her manimal ranch of rence, while I sat across the room watching. Then the order came, one I knew I would eventually hear. To disrobe.

He had removed Charm from the main room, the child already half asleep, the day’s excitement having worn off. I almost objected when I realized he was locking her in the loneliness of that large room, but seeing he had left the key in the lock, I did not.

He liked the changes in my body. I did not disagree.

He grabbed me and pulled me to him, kissing me, touching me, tasting me while he undressed. The numbers were still carved into his chest, a reflection of a distant past in an era long before me.

I almost allowed it, the joining of our bodies, a reunion born in sin, an imperfect love that refused to perish into the vast emptiness of my heart. Almost. And then I began to fight against him, pushing him away, praying that he would stop.

My mistake.

He'd left me. Not once, not twice, but a million times, over and over and over in each and every night when I dreamed. And for this I openly offered myself to a man who acted as if he owned me?

I could feel his confusion and then his anger. He shoved me backwards, his hand snapping around my throat, the pressure anything but gentle. I leaned forward and I knew he was about to rape me, but the action was cut short at the sounds of Charm, crying through the locked door. Calling out to me.

I pulled my shift over my head and hurried to the locked door, Charm bounding into my arms, her eyes filled with a child’s terror. She had dreamed that someone was trying to hurt me. I would never tell her it was her father.

I calmed her and put her back to bed, staying with her until she slept.

I knew he wouldn’t kill me, not because he couldn't, but because there was yet something inside
of him.. that wasn't finished with me, that might never be finished with me and by morning I knew that my body would be well abused, with or without my consent.

In my life I have loved only two men. Aiden, my first, and the man who took me away from him, his father.

I know now he will never allow me complete freedom from him. His love is possessive, controlling and manipulative and I think he would rather see me dead then with another man. He has told me over and over that I am his for life and that I will never escape, that he will always find me.

A fact I know too well.

So why do I stay? How can I still love him?

My only answer is because he is a man who demands it, and I am a woman who can not deny it.

The cards laid out between us told me what I already knew, that he would be leaving soon, journeying to a distant land. His pilgrimage will be a success, his goal reached. A goal that included neither me, nor his daughter. Charm and I would be left behind to fend for ourselves, again. I can’t even fault him for this, knowing long ago what I was getting myself into.

He told me he would return victorious. I believe he will, he always does. He told me he loved me. I told him I knew.

My shadow has a name.

Castor.