91 SEARING 121
Then bow your head in the house of God
Little girl, who do you think you are?
You think you need it, you think you want love
You wouldn't want it if you knew what it was
Little girl, who do you think you are?
You think you need it, you think you want love
You wouldn't want it if you knew what it was
It was all so...spur of the moment. A decision made so fast, he’d hardly blinked before he found himself in a carriage headed into the city. But it was one that thrummed through his veins and kicked his heart to pace with excitement. Thysbae had never met a friend’s mother before. Had never met a friend’s family to begin with. His years of isolation had left him bereft of any sort of socialization and he assumed that this would be the mark of true familiarity. Of something more than acquaintances that was acknowledged by general society. Someone he could finally turn to and say he was on equal standing with.
He may not have understood all that Florian was or did, but that would come with time, wouldn’t it? The carriage rocked, bumped, then slowed to a halt. The reconciliator that had met him halfway fidgeted in his seat. He was different from the ones before, and while the half-breed was aware he must be new — the finely pressed uniform, starched to perfection and the general apprehension with being in such close proximity with the antlered creature — he couldn’t bring himself to make a friend of this one. Not yet, maybe. Instead, he would be on his best behavior, and prove whatever rumors concerning him were untrue. A passing glance had their gazes locking for a moment, until the other looked away quickly. Left the half-breed wondering what could be the matter with him. The reconcilliator was more skittish than most around him.
He might well ask about that later.
Now, though, it would seem that their driver would take them no further. Verowa End was no slum, but it was littered with enough of the less-liked races for the human to want no part in delving deeper. Not if this wasn’t meant to be Order business. The man had been hard-pressed as it was to get them this far.
Thysbae wasted no time, the anticipation of this crucial meeting making him restless. No time to tarry; something great was afoot. Or, ahoove. His hooves clopped down against the stones of the road, the reconciliator following after him. There was a measure of distance between that seemed more than polite. But teh half-breed didn’t let him bother him so much. The writing on the note he clutched gave him an apt enough description of the home he was meant to find.
Always good to have friends of our own. A sentiment he shared, but didn’t elaborate on. Neither did the voice. There would be the point; they shared the same mind. That’s how Bae had thought of it. Although, there were things the other said that didn’t make sense. That didn’t quite fit the way Bae thought. But this — they could agree on.
He hopped toward the door, not dissimilar to how he’d done to cross the threshold of Florian’s home. It was great enthusiasm that he knocked. Twice; a quick one, two. Hard enough the first time that his knuckles ached and he let it sink in that it would be the first time he was doing such a thing for his own reasons. Not because the Order had sent him. A flush of red to his cheeks hit as the door opened, and a woman opened the door.
She was taller than him. Most everyone else was, but it was something he noted because she also looked so much like Florian. Or it was more that Florian looked so much like her. He had not made a mistake; good. A grin stretched over his lips, forced his eyes to crescent and he stuck one foot back and gave a bow. Made sure his antlers were far enough from the woman as to not brush against her in any way. The last time something like that had happened, it had not ended pleasantly.
“Good morning!” Before she could even speak, he beat her to it. “This One hopes this morning finds you well.”
“And who might you be?” Even their voices were similar.
A wag of his tail and he righted himself. Slightly relaxed, but back straight. This wasn’t much different from how the half-breed had first greeted Florian. The difference, however, laid in intention. “This One is Thysbae Ashtlin. A friend of Florian’s. He wanted to meet said dear friend’s mother.” A beat, a falter in his smile. “I-if that is not too much trouble?”
Aside from the usual look of confusion that hit whenever someone heard him speak, there was something else. A light of recognition? Did Florian...speak of him? He hoped he had. He hoped those words had been kind. The half-breed missed to caution that taken residence in the woman’s frame.
“No trouble at all. Come in. Call me Ava.”
She stepped aside to let him in, drawing him from his wonderings of what she’d been told about him. She smiled, like any other person would have smiled at him. Like a person smiled at a pet that had a fondness for, but did not rightly own. No; that wasn’t how she smiled. That was someone else thinking, perceiving. He squinted a moment, then fumbled to return the smile as he was directed to sit.
The first room he came upon was the kitchen. She must have been in the process of cooking something, because there was a pot to boil and vegetables on the counter. The apron at her front was wet with streaks that must have been from her quickly drying her hands.
His mother had never cooked for him. Just for herself. He would have been left to scrape at the pot for whatever was left, and be content with it. Bae would not say that was happy existence, but he already knew Florian was different from him, even if they shared the same race. How fortunate.
The cold grip of something he couldn’t name — not him, but one of the others — gripped him as the woman fussed with the vegetables.
“You work for the Order, right?”
Somehow, it always came back to this, didn’t it? That was how his meeting with Florian went. Distracted by the business of the Order rather than having wanted to converse with him. Or maybe it was that the first impression he’d been given, that Florian had relayed, was being repeated here. The cold grip grew colder, tighter. He might suffocate. He blinked, nodded. Smiled again as best he could as if nothing were wrong and the enthusiasm he’d felt wasn’t dwindling.
“Yes. This One is a spellbreaker.” He sat up more in his seat. “He stops mages from casting spells by, uhm, eating their aether.” He was glad, at least, to not have to explain this further to Ava. She understood; she was Lysanrin, after all.
“So you use Aether Siphoning, too.” A statement, not a question. The air of disappointment settled between them. But, of course, it wasn’t a skill that was readily accepted. It was a harbinger for terror and misfortune. It was why they were so despised in the first place. Some more than others, it would seem.
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. This One is paired with a reconciliator to avoid any accidents, too.”
“They leash you to someone.” Another statement. Just like Florian had remarked. Maybe he had meant it in jest, but she — Bae didn’t know how she meant it.
“Is...today special?” A change of subject would do him good.
She doesn’t like us much.
“Oh?” She glanced down as Thysbae gestured to the necklace. Too pretty to just be worn around the house, and Verowa End didn’t seem like the place you’d wear something nice like that around. Bae was in no position to speak with the fine clothes he wore, but still. It must have cost a pretty copper. “My birthday.” It was the most pleased she’d looked since he’d stepped hoove in her home. “Florian got it for me.”
Bae wasn’t one to focus so much on his own emotions, as he was to look for signs of displeasure at his presence. It was easier to manage things that way. To understand where he fit in a certain situation. He’d hoped, even with the things Florian had told him, that they would be kin in something more than horns and siphoning. But they were nothing alike. The other had a mother that cared for him, and not by some delusion his mind had created. Simply a reality Bae couldn’t relate to.
“It’s very pretty. It looks lovely on you.” The words were bitter in his mouth. “Happy birthday, as well. This One is not much of a good cook, but if you’ll allow it, he can help?”
“Oh, if you’re asking—”
“This One insists.” He was up and on his feet before Ava could say otherwise. A smile on his face. He suspected that if he didn’t smile, he would cry. And that wasn’t something to do in front of someone he’d just met. He wanted to make a good impression.
Doesn’t matter; she don’t trust us. A fevered, grunted sound in his ears as he blinked, went as she directed him.
Their conversation was polite. Surface level. Nothing more than what he would ask to get to know someone, but more so to pass the time. Distant conversation for someone that wanted you out of their hair, but didn’t want to seem rude about it. At the very least, Ava got use out of him. A saving grace for himself, really.
Bae winced, glanced down at his hands. A small prick of blood welled up from his finger, bright red. His mother had often wondered if he bled like everyone else. She’d made sure to check for herself, but never seemed satisfied with the results. As if she were looking for something grotesque and different in that, too. The same could be said of the moment, though his attention was ripped from the small wound as the woman rushed to him, and he was struck with a thought.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Florian should have such a kind woman for a mother and he — a monster. A passing creature in his life that was nothing more but fodder for his greatness. But no; his mother might not have been all bad, once. Once, she might have loved him. That love, though, had been lost to something cold and angry that sought to use him as an outlet. That saw him as the cause for all her suffering. Florian was a blessing to his mother. Maybe because he was full blooded. Maybe because he wasn’t a bastard.
He’d heard nothing of the other leashed lysanrin’s father, but Bae figured that didn’t matter. Not anymore. Because the other was happy with his mother.
They’d learned much, when their mother fell. Came to understand that her purpose had never been to love them, but that didn’t make this anymore fair. It did, however, put a thought in their pretty little head as the woman pulled him toward the bathroom. Something about bandages or something to wrap around his finger as if he were mortally wounded. She didn’t notice the knife still in their hand.
They were escorted to the bathroom, their hand washed. The weight of the knife felt especially sweet as she gripped it. A silent song in her ears as she watched the woman. This had to be done. It wasn’t fair and the only way to make it right was to do this. The only way for Florian to go on to greater things was if Ava was no longer in the picture.
She was holding him back. She’d served her purpose, and now she would do this final thing for her son.
It was surprise that widened the woman’s eyes. The smile on Adora’s lips had fallen, expression turning into something serious. But the knife had not found its mark. It was never that easy. Blood loosened Avaa’s grip, but she held fast. It was fear of life, adrenalin, that kept her grip so tight. She’d seen it in their own mother, when she’d fought against them.
“We wish we’d had a mother like you.” A sigh, as if they weren’t in the throes of confrontation. “We wish she would have been so kind to us. But if she was, it would have made this harder to do to her, too.”
She pushed, used the weight of a finally healthy body against the woman. Even with the difference in size, there had to be some difference in strength. She wasn’t the only one with excitement in her veins. Two could play that game. Ava gasped, a wince as the blade cut deeper into her palms. Oh, but she couldn’t keep this up for long, could she?
Adora kicked at the woman’s leg and she stumbled back. It didn’t take much force for a kick like that to do damage, of course. The blessing of their cervidae features. The half-breed’s smile widened as the knife slid past hands to pierce flesh. A solid opposition that knocked back into her chest as she giggled. Gleeful, delighted; so many words for the feeling that coursed through her. A coiling in her gut like snakes as warmth rushed to her cheeks as blood rushed out of Ava.
The woman fought to hold the blade in place as Adora sat up, wincing herself at the blowback from the handle of the knife knocking into her chest with their fall. Ava sputtered, as if to say something, but all that came was blood. Blood, red and bright and leaking out of her onto the floor. Staining her clothes, staining Adora’s.
“We’re doing this because we want the same thing as you.” She cupped the woman’s face as she gasped for breath, choked on her own blood. “We want the best for Florian. And you have given him yours, but your purpose is over. This is the final thing you can do for him. When he finds you, you will make him greater than he is now. We will make you a vessel of potential.”
The light dimmed from Ava’s eyes, the hiccuping pulsing of her chest slowing to a halt. “We’ll give him a bright future, brighter than the childhood you gave him. He’ll burn so bright, he might be mistaken for the sun.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’ll outshine Ysa herself. And we’ll shine with him.” A wild, manic look had taken her eyes as she stared down at the corpse.
A beat, a realization hitting her. Her lips pushed out in a pout. Ava had not heard that last bit, had she? Of course not; she was dead. Too soon.
“What a mess we’ve made.”
