A faint tingle stitched it's way across the back of his mind. The signature was hidden and clouded over, as if someone was trying their hardest so that he couldn't find them. He received a wave of a sweetly earth like scent as he tried to delve deeper into the signature's persona. A whisper of silver hair fell over his mind's eye.
The tingle increased to feel like a wasp sting. He tried to brush it away, but it seemed to increase whenever his mental hands touched it. A hiss of pain escaped his sleeping lips and his eyes flickered. It burned the back of his mind. It was as if someone had left a fire in the back of his head.
{Keep asleep you foolish boy. You must find where this is coming from. If you wake you will lose it. You must NOT lose it!} he screamed to himself in his mind. His eyes flickered once more.*
The dark silver streaked space place he was in faded to darkness and then to a bright gold as the morning light streamed through his windows, someone had apparently decided that his order to keep the curtains shut was of inconceivable nonsense. Grimacing he swung his legs off the stone slab where he slept. Cleaning his face from sleeping dust, he chose clothes to wear. His pristine hair was unnameable. His eyes, much the same.
Being only nine, it was hard to convince some people he was who he said he was. The last of the Immortals. The fabled people who had ruled this world for centuries. Oh, it was true. Most of the older Aurorians could tell you that. No one really took his word for it though.
He wrapped a simple brown cloth around his chest and tied it at his waist with a belt of the same color. Pulling on the leggings that went with the cloth, he was finished dressing. Looking outside the window, he could automatically tell that it was half past nine. Not that he hadn't already known that from when he had first woke up.
A servant carrying a tray laden with breakfast entered his rooms just after he sat at the maple wood desk in front of his fireplace. The servant curtsied before leaving the room with what was left of the dinner from the night before. He waited until his butler walked in to open the curtains he had just closed to begin eating.
"Hilton, didn't I request that the windows were to stay close until I said otherwise?" Hilton froze in place. His eyes were like golden gems, glinting in the morning sun. His hands tightened on the curtains before he drew them shut.
"I am sorry sir. One of the night servants must have heard wrong. I will deal with it promptly." Hilton said. His hair was twisted into an immensely untidy braid. That was very unlike him.
"No. Do not worry. I will make sure that next time, all, my servants will be sure to hear my orders properly. Hilton, would you set up a walk in the yards for me. Oh, also, fix your hair. It might just be a bit untidy, and that is unlike you." he said, waving Hilton out the door.
Hilton bowed and left as soon as possible. It was truly sad that Hilton was starting to fall apart on him. Humans usually did last no longer than six years under his skies.
The irritating tingle in the back of his mind subsided to no more than a respondent drone. Shaking his head he pushed aside his breakfast, thought better of it, and ate it all.
A scarlet dove flashed through the evergreens that lined his precious world. He had never really known why the spells he had put on this plain oh so many years ago had affected the colorings of the life that lived here. His sun was red and his sky green. The grass was sometimes purple or black. The wildlife ranged from pure white to black, silver to opal. Any color you could think of, the wildlife, at least one, would show it to you. It was amazing.
He took out a pack of papers and untied the string that was keeping them together. The tingle in his head suddenly became a loud buzz, it whirled in and out of control for few minutes before settling enough that he could hear the words coming though.
:Tree Child. The trees have Sung. The snow haired boy is a monster. The trees have Sung, Tree Child.:
The words faded back into a tingle and then subsided into silence. He had no true idea why this message had been repeating until it reached full strength. The sender must have been in pain as they sent it. It over toned the whole message with chest splitting pain.
He picked a quill from where they sat on the corner and dipped it in ink. A scrawl of notes were placed on the page. The messages that a Tree Singer had sent him over the centuries were all written down, so that he knew when which fate had been decided. Few were of prophecies and one, the Soul Bound Twins creation.
First of New Bloom Moon time, year 001 BGG
The Lover Immortals, Deasedian and Hiulojuk, have spread their blood upon the Half-Blooded Twins, Kujik and Kijuk. The Sacred Golden Blood has been sealed within Mortals. Deasedian and Hiulojuk have been cursed to live as twins, forever. They, loving each other so much as to choose reincarnated Half Blood Twins to house their Souls, have broken the Law of Furiloket. Having done so, Deasedian and Hiulojuk were punished for all Immortals to see. They were imprisoned before the full court in the bodies of the Twins, Kujik and Kijuk, ensuring their eternal love to be shared as Mortals, who look down on siblings or relatives being lovers, and shall as such be prosecuted by their new People. The shall be born only to serve the Mortals in great times of need, preferably thirteen years before the preparations of such need are put in hand. They shall serve those who had once serve them to their fullest capabilities. Death awakes each of them during this time of need, separately and months apart. Their hair was sheared from their heads, all Immortality violently pulled from their chained persons. They were killed in the most heinous of ways, the burning of someone's mind, by the full extent of the court, without their shields up to protect them from others. Furiloket herself was the one to shear their hair and release their immortality from their bodies. Furiloket also tore down their shields and slit their throats, she also was the one to burn the bodies. They were her favorite children, and they had betrayed her. Only I had not participated. I am greatly scarred in my soul and would not have been able to handle that. I am sorry.
His signature was blurred, his true name lost to the years that had passed. He flipped through the extraordinarily large stack of paper and found the latest date. Under this he wrote the message he had received. He would go walking after the quill dried.
A servant, a young girl that had just recently arrived from Ao Province, with golden hair and gray eyes walked through the door. Her dark gray Aoian styled serving dress hung from her like she was made of sticks. She bowed and curtsied before handing him an envelope and backing away from his rooms.
Opening the envelope he was quite curious about it was about.
Dear Tree Child
A new prince was born in Aka. He is called Castias or the boy who knows the Snows. His hair is snow white and his eyes like jewels. He is only a few months old and already has proven that he is different. He has showed magical abilities and should be schooled by you. His Gift is strong and he shows signs of having all but one of the Immortal Gifts. The sole exception is Through Sight. As you are one with great knowledge we beg of you to take the boy into your custody on his fifth birthday.
- Ashton De Geld Le Aka.
The letter intrigued him. He had not known a child of such young age could possess such extensive Gifts. It would only be truly correct to assume custody of him now and he would.
"Hilton!" he called. The man was in his rooms within minutes.
"Yes sir?" Hilton asked, bowing low.
"Go and receive Prince Castias De Geld Le Aka. Bring him to me. Under no circumstances will you inform the parent. Go take him, if there is and ruckus, say my name. They shall let you go, free of harm."
Hilton bowed low in understanding before leaving the room. He was gone from Tree Child's world before the ink could dry on paper.
The nursemaid screamed as the strange man threw Soph to the ground. His hand came up and pushed her out of the way. Asazin clung to Castias's sleeping blanket wrapped figure. Her heart was breaking inside. Eldest brother was taking another one of her children away from her. She clutched the boy to her chest, his snowy hair fell from under the blanket and drifted down her hands. She buried her face in his hair as the man came to within reach of her son. She felt tears break free as his hands wrapped around her son and he dragged him from her grasp. A sob wrenched its way from her gut as she watched through the tears at the man leaving with her son. She ran after them and fell to the ground outside the gardens where the man turned to look at her once before saying a traveling spell and disappearing into thin air. Her world collapsed. Her only other son was gone, taken from her by a man she couldn't stop, or follow.
Her boy, gone forever.
Gran Muma dragged Asazin into her small hut. In the back room they stopped. The room held little else besides a bed. On the bed a young boy about the age of her youngest daughter lay behind a glass wall, which curved up and around the bed.
The boy had ash green hair and fine features. His skin was as white as the clothes he wore, snow pale. His eyes were closed but around head level a colored portrait of a small boy hung on the wall. He looked much like the boy in the bed. The portrait eyes were a deep dark gray unlike anything she had or would ever see.
"This is Mag-Bell. He is destined for Thanat. You must wake Cold-coal. Please. That is the only way you can hope ever to see either of your sons play again, unless it's a memory." she said. Asazin shook terribly and an from the hut. Her shoes made clipping noises as she forced herself to find a sister's love for the woman who would kill her children.
Cold-coal had lost the child, it had died in a miscarriage the day before Castias had been taken. She thought of seeing Castias and Toph playing in sports and mock sword fights. Tears overwhelmed her as she grabbed Kallen and dragged her into Cold-coal's medical room. Thanat sat next to the woman, her eyes thoughtful. She stood and walked out as they rampaged into the room, stopping only to hand them a small instruction sheet.
Show her the love of a sister. Mourn her child as well as ask her to mourn yours. After you have mourned over the lost children, turn around, allow Kallen to express to her the love she feels. Not in words. Have Kallen kiss her, that is the only way to wake her. She will wake a week after you have expressed your love for her. Return each day for six days, on the seventh, stand outside her doorway and wait for her to walk out. Leave clothes for her and fresh water. She will know you already, and all you have to say is that you are sisters NEVER mention her brother. Say only that she had loved you all very much before falling sick, and then she had started to act strangely for several weeks before falling into a very long coma. Aid her all you can in regular day things. She will need it.
Toph felt the small sensation as it trickled through the sounds of his unending sobs. It felt like a thorn was being forced between the bones in his wrist. The slow, drifting fog that had been ever present since his wretched sobbing had begun rolled away from his thoughts. It was a welcome relief. But then he thought about the sobs, which hadn't stopped.
Oh, why couldn't he stop sobbing? He was all dried up now. He would never cry or complain again, I swear!
A darkness overcame everything, he finally stopped hearing the sobs. Slowly the feeling of cold earth and ashes beneath him turned into his feather bed at home. He opened his eyes to find Soph holding his hand, sleeping in the chair besides his bed. He slowly lifted his other hand and touched her cheek. Her brown eyes flickered open at his light touch.
"I didn't wake you I hope." he said with a smile. He could fill the bandages twisting around his chest and down his stomach area. She shook her head wildly, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Don't cry love. How bad is it?" he asked, removing his hand from her grip to motion at where the bandages were.
"There are several large gashes in your chest and you have suffered multiple stomach and gut wounds. You have large cuts on both arms and have been stabbed in the back thrice over. They say you shouldn't have lived. Oh Toph I never left your side. Why would anyone want to harm you?" Soph's voice broke as tears came to her eyes. He wiped them from her soft silky cheeks and kissed her hands lightly.
"Do not cry my love. All will be well." he said. Sleep was gaining on him. And he drifted back to dreams of endless sobs, Soph grasping his hand, always there.
Thanat walked through the door and sat by her brother. He had just awoken and was evidently asleep. His complexion was much paler than usual and his brown hair was fanned out around his head on the small pillow. She brushed a stray strand of hair back into place before getting up to leave. A soft sound made her turn around.
"Thanat, where are you going?" Toph said, trying to sit up on his pillow.
"Toph. I am letting you rest." she replied, pushing him back into a laying position.
"No. You're feeling guilty about something. What have you done?"
"You know me too well brother, good night." she said, turning back to the door and walking out. She couldn't lose the rein she had just received over her feelings, it would do no one good to see her cry.
Reaching her room she flung a vase at the wall, it landed in the fireplace, shattering to bits and shooting pieces of ceramics over the room. She whined as the clay shot past her hand and blood started to drip, her mind forgetting what she had done. She knew the boy was a monster, her baby brother a monster, but she couldn't help but cry over him. What had she done?!
Toph wondered what had driven Thanat to become so cold. Soph had told him about the strange man which had taken Castias and that Cold-coal would be awakened soon. Thanat's silver hair had been plaited to the side, hanging across her narrow shoulders. Her golden nightgown was just barely hanging on her thin frame. She hadn't been eating, he knew that, she hadn't ate since the last time he had seen her.
Soph had told him everything that had happened while he was recovering. She had been trying to get Thanat to tell her what was wrong, but their sister had just closed up around herself. Thanat looked very tired. Her silver hair was lank and her clothes rumbled.
Soph walked in, smelling of roses and clean water. Her hair was in a simple braid down her back. Carrying a tray laden with food she sat besides him and put the tray on his laps after he had sat up on his pillows. He tried, with some difficulty, to push it away, he didn't feel much about eating right now, but she moved it right back in place.
"You must eat something Toph, please. Please!" Soph said. He gave in, eating half of what was on the tray. She didn't leave until he had ate all he could. As she left she kissed his forehead, which was still hot with fever. He grinned, or tried to, at her back. He coughed softly in his hand before settling down to dream laden sleep. Sobbing over threw his hearing and he spiraled down into unseeing despair.
The dream ended when the pain stopped,, that was what woke him, the pain suddenly stopped. When he opened his eyes he found Nolan standing over him with his hands on his forehead. The bandages were laying over the chair.
"Don't tell anyone that I've healed you. The truth must not get out, understand?" he said, crossing his arms and grimacing. He was weakened by the Healing, and was obviously near to falling over.
"I will never tell, I swear."
"Good, now, let me take you to your sisters, their waiting for your tray outside the kitchen." Nolan hooked his arm with his and lead him off his bed and out of the room. True enough when they arrived at the kitchens Thanat and Soph were standing outside the doors, arguing over what to feed him.
"Soph." The whisper of his voice startled her and she pivoted to look at him.
"Why are you up?" she asked, nearly bursting with anger.
"My wounds are fully healed, and before you ask, Nolan was changing my bandages, so no, I didn't just get up and walk away." Thanat looked sick. She winced as the clouds parted and sunlight hit her face. She coughed and dropped her head. Soph looked at her and spoke in gentle rhythms, stroking her hair. "Soph? Can I speak with you over there please." he asked. He needed to know what was wrong with Thanat, she seemed to get sicker by the second.
When they reached an area out of Thanat's zone of hearing he gave Soph a full face of puzzlement.
"What's wrong with her Soph, she's getting worse every time I see her."
"She will not eat. Since Castias was taken it's got worse, she won't even knit, and she loves knitting. We must ask Gran Muma, she is the only one. The thing is though, Thanat won't see her."
"Well, I am here now." the raspy voice of the eldest in the kingdom rose across the way. Thanat stiffened. Gran Muma shook her head. "Follow me." she said turning. They followed after her, they had not noticed that Nolan had left.
Gran Muma took them to her hut, and they followed her to the very back room. Laying on the bed there was a boy of thirteen.
The boy had ash green hair and fine features. His skin was as white as the clothes he wore, snow pale. As soon as Thanat entered the room the boy's eyes flickered open, showing that they were a deep dark gray, quite unlike anything they had ever seen. He turned his head and let the full power of those eyes drop onto Thanat. She returned the gaze, and never looked away.
"Mag-bell." the boy smiled as his name passed through her lips. He sat up, walked to the edge of where the spell shield was, and put his hand on it. Thanat moved forward and held her hand to his. The spell shield fell and, as their hands touched, a light filled the room, they were Soul-bonded. Every one left the room, leaving the two alone.
Tree Child watched as Castias ran through the grasses. The boy was a source of entertainment. He picked up on Mage training very well, and was already learning Adept level spells. His snow white hair looked faintly out of place in Tree Child's colorful world.
His black eyes shown with the darkness of his inner mind.
No, this child would never be a child, he would always be a Mage.
"Castias. Time to come inside." he called out to the boy. It was time to sleep. The younger boy evidently thought tree Child was his father, for he cooed and made his way to the inner chambers that served as his rooms.