Jewlschance
Seifer Almasy
Kind and gentle
The first man to
Ever have babies
God, I admire him!
v_v Such a sad story
He has to tell…
Posts: 15
(8/7/07 11:46 pm)
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And the House Came Falling Down
And the House Came Falling Down
By Nix Winter
copyright 2007
all rights reserved
"I don't think you understand," Morrigan said, her patience thin as frost in June. "I know war when I feel it."
Julian knew war as well and as the rest of the council argued over her plans and she argued over their 'obvious stupidity', Julian's mind wandered away from the table. A slight man, neither powerful nor frail, an explorer with an insufferable curiosity, he understood the value of life and that those who had life, no matter how they'd come to it, often wished to keep their treasure above all things.
"Can't we sue for peace?" he asked, chin resting on the back of his hands, propped on elbows. He didn't look very old, a heart shaped face, full lips, soft blue hair with streaks of midnight, and earnest violet eyes that watched the rest of the council through small wire rimmed glasses. As old as he didn't look, as his memories went back beyond this incarnation in the after life, back even beyond his own mortal life. It wasn't just the stories he'd consumed from many cultures and times, but the deepest part of him felt a connection to Original Self. He wasn't the only creature to believe his ancestors still existed in his soul, but he could see in the faces of the rest of the council that his take on war and peace might be a hard sell.
He sat up a little straighter, tugged at the silver brocade of his waistcoat. This city of white they'd built, these twelve, and really all those who had come afterwards, this city like the gift of life, was all he had. As far as an after life, it wasn't what he'd planned, but he'd made a new life here with all the others who'd arrived. It was a city of forgiveness and rebirth to him, especially with the new lives that came from those who'd arrived in this world mostly by surprise.
While the weave of life was stranger than he could ever have imagined, it was what it was, and he wasn't keen on the idea of leaving this afterlife for another. For some of those born in this city and world, this wasn't even an afterlife.
The strongest negative factor in this world of hope and light though was that not all creatures dropped here by the gift of Tririlus' Bounty were kind and nice. Some of them were creatures that made the soul pale and quake. Some of them had disease in their souls more virulent that even the Master of Water, should they suddenly appear in this world, be able to even understand let alone heal.
Morrigan could have seemed to be such a creature. She was a woman crafted of the darkest night, the embodiment of both rage and passion to Julian's understanding, and even with the power of her soul, her body was sculpted grace, expressive hands, and eyes that glittered with magics beyond the understanding of Julian's memories, even all the way back into the memories of Jewls the Lucky. She drew breath, her will retreating ever so slightly, readying to make another assault on the collective unwieldy understanding and motivations of her fellow council members.
Where her eyes glared at Julian, he crossed his arms, and didn't even dare to smile at her. "How long?" he asked softly.
"How should I know? Never, if we do what I say we should do!" Her voice carried weight, strength, command, and he fully could imagine her at the head of the army she asked for.
That was maybe the one moment the city's greatest weakness surfaced, like a long forgotten corpse rising up through cold waters because disaster had disturbed it's resting place. The city of white was their dream, their ideal, these twelve. They'd built it. They'd carved it from their understanding of how life should be, but all of them brought with them their memories, just as Julian had. They'd had different lives, different deaths before the City of White. They all had different ideas for how to deal with war and they all held to that spark of life maybe even tighter than they had before their first deaths.
"We have to work together!"
It is said that the drowning try to climb over those around them to reach the air, even as it pushes all beneath the waters. Anger and fear are just other ways to drown and Julian felt his words could have been some undercurrent below the tides that everyone else wanted to take on directly.
Resentment rode his shoulder out of the council room and he didn't care, in that moment, if he ever came back to the long table or not. Soon, they would be run over with harmful creatures of ill intent, angry and hungry, creatures filled with such rage. Julian leaned against the wall of the coat room, behind the shadow of the door, his own coat held in his hands.
The gods had never been very partial to listening to him. Once, maybe, Barrie might have aided him, but that was when he had been someone else, and Barrie was a goddess from a far distant world that he wouldn't even know how to find his way to now. He wouldn't even want to. The City of White was his home and it was filled with as many joy filled and struggling souls as the darker cities could boast painfully hurt souls. Hiding there in the darkness, he smiled over memories that were exclusively his. Julian Chance had friends that were his friends, and not because he was Jewls the Lucky, not because he had any great wealth or said just what people wished.
His coat hugged in his arms, he pressed his face to the great woolen collar and let it soak away his tears. His friends were going to die horrible and agonizing deaths and he couldn't find a way to save them. He couldn't fight vampires or ghouls, couldn't fight a hatred so large and knowing this left him feeling small, just a simple man in a coat closet. Goosebumps chilled over his arms and he reached around for his braid, hand over hand over hand drawing the length around. His coat slumped through the floor as he counted off the plaits in his mind, praying a prayer that had belonged to The Lucky, and for the first time in all his lives, Julian understood full well that if the price of peace were his whole braid, he'd offer it up and burn it himself. That such a sacrifice of his soul wouldn't even dent the coming storm was perhaps the deepest despair. The divide between souls of different worlds was too great. His braid was everything to him. People's little spark of lives were all to those that held them, and he couldn't even find a way to understand what mattered to the souls living in the dark cities. He could give his life, but he couldn't give it for nothing and he wouldn't give the lives of his friends and those good people living in the White City.
Without warning a hand reached into the coat closet, flicked over the coats hanging there. Julian froze, not breath nor thought, not even magical charm existing for him in that moment.
"Damn fool," a voice said, complaining in disgusted contempt. "Sue for peace? How he got to be a council member? What right does showing up first give a person anyway?"
Shame burned him, the council member hiding there in the closet, not even knowing the voice of the Quarter representative that insulted him. A greater man would have burst forth and dealt damage equal to the insult. As the man and his companion walked away, down the hall, never realizing the object of their scorn was right there, Julian had an idea.
<><><>
Julian's home had been built with the first of the White City. He'd planned it and the others had helped him, just as he'd helped them. He leaned out his window little as his carriage slowed, rattling more slowly over the cobble stones as it and rounded the corner towards his carriage house. The walls were still white, though not as white as when they'd first been built. Marble had always seemed to him to be what mausoleums were built out of, or great Council Houses. His house was of marble, but it was three stories of marble dust and the palest gray clay made to bricks and white washed over all with a paint that had seemed like sunlight to him at the time.
Roses grew at the sides of his home, three rows wide to either side, paths paved with more of the same brick. He leaned out his window and yelled, "Evet! Stop here, please!"
"Mr. Chance," Evet said, coaxing the horses to a stop just short of the feed and brushing that they both wanted. "Everything well?"
"Not so much," Julian said, "but as well as can be. I just wish to see my flowers. Send Kanin around to me, will you?"
"Yes, Mr. Chance," Evet said, tipping his head slightly and letting the horses have their head to move forward.
Smiling, Julian moved among his roses, caressing, even brushing his cheek against soft petals, drinking in the scent. Each of them had come from his green house as cuttings, except for the darkest rose, which he'd bought from a man who'd hardly seemed to know it's worth. The darkest one's name was Angel and as he ran the back of his fingers up a petal, he made his chooses.
There were lady bugs in his garden as well, and they seemed to particularly like Angel. One crawled onto his finger and mindful of it's dignity he lifted it up to look at it, to wonder what lives in the mind so small.
"Mr. Chance," Kanin said, bowing just slightly.
"Kanin," Julian said, encouraging the little bug back onto the rose. "I want you to get large pots, half barrels really, three of them. In the attic, where I've been planning on having the greenhouse panels installed, I want them in there. First really, I want the green house panels, and then I want Cherry, Northstar, and the Penquin moved to pots in the attic."
Kanin frowned. "Mr. Chance, that will likely kill them, and the roots are entwined. It will kill the plants next to them?"
"I understand this," Julian said softly, running his fingers over the dark, blood deep red petals of Angel's closest blossom. "Will you please do this for me?"
"Of course, Mr. Chance. The glass is already here. Hane and I can have it in within a week."
"I fear I shall need it in faster than that."
Kanin twitched, but nodded. "Of course, Mr. Chance."
"Thank you," Julian said, moving along down the path of his little garden.
An orange cat met him at the corner of the house and he reached down to pick her up. Purring she set about kneading the dark green brocade of his great coat, and he let her. The back door lead through the kitchen which was filled with strawberry jam in the making, bread fresh from that morning, and hard working man with flaming orange hair which stood straight up. "Get that beast out of my kitchen!"
Julian grinned, turning slightly so that Grace was out of the direct line of anything which might get hucked at them. "Toby! What are you making for dinner?"
"I've squashes from the market and ginger, asparagus, and small red potatoes, as well as fresh greens from the greenhouse. Then there will be strawberry tarts and fresh cream."
Julian swallowed. "That sounds divine. I want you to eat with me tonight. We must discuss this niece of yours that you were wanting to bring into the house as your apprentice?"
Toby stopped chopping. "But you said she was too young. Another year with her mother. I know I said that it was all a bit too much for my sister since she lost her Ben, but I'm sending them some gold and they'll be fine."
"We'll talk," Julian said, stealing couple of strawberries. "Sell the cow," he added, from the door, "and Jake and Jane, all of them should go outside the city. I think they want some fresh air. A city is hardly a place for cow or two such fine goats."
Toby chopped hard at some squash, cheeks filled with words he wouldn't say to his employer, but the look of disbelief and almost concern for his master's mental well being were clear on his face.
"Charlotte!" Julian called and his housekeeper rose out of the floor. She was clearly from different world than his world of origin and just as attached to her history as he was to his. She wore flowing pants that cuffed off at her ankles and a tunic of lustrous red that set off the darkness of her hair and eyes. The rest of her face hid behind a half veil, but it was the twin spiraling horns arching back above her ears that really set her off, that and her feet not really touching the floor. She'd appeared in his house one day, stubborn as dark on dirt, and she'd become his housekeeper, if not really his friend. Different cultures, different values, he supposed.
"Master," she said, arms across her chest. "I have left nothing in disorder."
By 'Master' what she seemed to really mean was 'object', 'road', or maybe 'pet dog', but really she did a very good job of managing his gold and seeing that everything was well stocked and arranged for just about everything he wanted.
"I didn't expect you had," Julian said, feeling his stress lessen, the knot of resentment finally settling down. With both hands he opened the dark wood paneled double doors into his favorite room. Well, really it was the first floor of the house, not counting the kitchen and a small privy. "I am sure that there is no other to which I would entrust this task which I am about to ask of you."
'His library,' he thought possessively. These were books that he'd remembered and copied down again, found in the far reaches of a memory too creative and too well used. There were books he'd bought. Books he'd received as gifts lined the walls, sat next to books acquired in many ways, until not even he could really keep track. "How many?"
"129, 387, and a half. You have not completed the last, Master," Charlotte said, suspicion clear in her voice.
He took a slow breath, letting his fingers trail lovingly down the polished canvas binding on a particularly favorite book of poetry. "Yes, well, entirely too many. They take up too much space and I wish to redecorate."
Charlotte choked and it was by far the most human sound Julian had ever heard her make. It was almost as if he'd asked her to sell something that was hers as well. He pulled his book of poetry from the shelf and turned back to her before dropping it into his chair. Her hair had caught fire, literally, even if the flames were green and not likely to transfer to anything else. "Redecorate? Master should just make a second wing to the house."
"Alas," Julian said, winking at her, making mental note to ask her about any combat skills she might have. "I need the magic and enchantment laid down into the very bricks of this building. "Trust me, Lotte."
As if she were trying to swallow the fire from her hair, she nodded. "Sell the books, Master? As in, trade them for gold so that they belong to someone else?"
"Yes, and with some discretion. I don't wish to have a yard sale for everything in my possession." he said, "That is the plan. Don't sell the chair. I want that moved to the attic. And send for Mr. Bertlin and Mr. Cross."
"A furniture maker and maker of questionable spells?"
"It's going to be a very substantial redecoration," Julian said, moving around her and heading for the stairs. "If you dislike the task, feel free to leave my employee and resettle far from the city, as you well know, I am an Elder and I can hardly expect someone would take you in after you had abandoned me."
The hissing intake of breath was the second very human sound she'd ever made, but he'd had quite enough of ranting and raging for one day. He wasn't sure how much time he had left.
Staring into his mirror, shame and self-loathing only whispered back at him, which, considering, seemed acceptable. He worked his cravat free and considered. There was so much work to do.
<><><>
A week later found him in the office of one Sandoval Bertlin. The man was a toad, quite possibly in the literal sense. With the kind of creative spell casting he did there was always the possibility that his genes did now have something toad-like in them. "You want five hundred sunlight capsules with healing properties, layers of hope that manifests as falling sakura blossoms and you want them to be triggered by proximity of the undead?" The toad faced Bertlin said, eyes narrowed. "Anything else?"
"Yes, actually," Julian said, pulling a small skin colored booklet from an inside pocket of his great coat. "I want you to make me one of these."
Bertlin took the book, his stubby fingers caressing the unusual parchment, then he smiled at Julian with greater respect. "Quite the book you have, Mr. Chance."
"Yes, well, I have had many books in my life, some more to my taste than others."
"Yes, yes, well, I can quite see that." Bertlin said, one hand reaching for a pair of square spectacles. "This is also quite the spell, but you could never use it. I'll give you half your sunlight capsules in exchange for this book."
"As much as I respect the offer, I fear I could never part with that book. I might also add that it is impossible to copy and will return to it's true owner when called, so I shouldn't think there are very many of it's kind."
"I expect," Bertlin snorted, disappointed. "But you could never use the spell for which you ask."
"Why is that," Julian asked glaring over the top of his own glasses, hands laying with deceptive calm in his lap.
"It requires a soul sacrifice to activate it," Bertlin said, stating the obvious for they'd both read the spell.
"I don't think that will be a problem," Julian said.
The response made Bertlin smirk. "Very well. I shall have your order for you about a week after I receive your gold." His smirk turned to a smile as he jotted down a figure on a bit of paper and pushed it across the desk to Julian.
Julian shrugged and pulled a rectangular book covered in cream satin from his waistcoat pocket. "Have you a clean surface from which I can write you a draft? Will my draft be sufficient for you?"
"What have you done, Mr. Chance? Who hunts you? To spook an Elder so much, they must be considerable. The former owner of this book, perhaps?"
"That would be my concern, Mr. Bertlin. Your concern is to find a way to carry such a large weight of gold back to your store unmolested. You do understand that I expect complete silence in regards to our transaction."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Bertlin said and a golden tray appeared and floated before Julian. "Such confidentiality assured, Mr. Chance wouldn't be considering acquiring a small library by force from our neighbors, would he? I mean, I understand that night walkers can compile quite the collection of literary works."
"On the understanding of confidentiality," Julian said, finishing his signature with a flourish, "If one were to find the urge to take one's family on an extended camping trip far from the city in the near future, this might not be a bad idea."
"Is that so," Bertlin asked, cherishing that bit of insider trading though he'd sworn himself to confidentiality and in the sacred space of his office that would be quite binding.
"One week then?"
"Truly, I thought it would take longer to raise such a sum. It make take a full month."
"Deliver them as you have them completed then," Julian said.
"Best of luck to you, Mr. Chance," Bertlin said solemnly.
Julian rose, held out a white-gloved hand which the creative spell constructor took without hesitation.
Once inside his carriage, he pulled the shade and leaned his head back. The council had stopped meeting, at least he had stopped going. The distance between he and his oldest friends seemed too great. To fight, to defend, to flee, to somehow destroy their beautiful city before the vengeance of darker souls could fall on them, and all around them most went about their lives, just complaining about chances made that not even Julian understood well enough. Homes and shops, schools and the people who worked to maintain the roads, the city was alive with the songs of her people.
It might all come to nothing still. Just because Morrigan foresaw war in the actions of their sister cities, did not mean that there would be war. It was the deeper part of his memories that convinced him there would be war, the part of him that lived before he really was even born. Since coming to this world he'd also seen what a vampire could do, seen werewolves, and a creature which could pass through cracks like mist, walk through a hail of bullets, bend the strongest man as if he were naught more than a doll and desired nothing more than to rip the spark of life from the man and all around him, Julian feared fighting such creatures.
Never in his life, this or any other, had he willfully planned harm to another, no matter their path in life. In anger, he had fought, for love, for family, for his own life, but those fights had been against others like himself. To fight against another who could bleed, who could cry in pain, this was something a person could face directly and stand one's ground on. Palms steepled over his face, thumbs pressing against his face, Julian had never felt so alone.
His next outing was a sometime later, after some of sunlight traps had arrived. The air in the city seemed more on edge. People refused to look at his carriage as he passed, and resentful, he left his shade open and looked down his nose at the people walking where he road. What did they know of secrets and burdens?
Barely speaking to Evet, he stepped down from his white carriage, polished black boots and smoothly pressed black wool slacks, and distant attitude setting him much farther from the people that he and the other elders worked to protect. Lips tight, he tried not to see the people who paused on the road to watch him walking into the cutlery shop as corpses already. Their lives were in the hands of Fate and he was not Fate. That thought made him feel a bit better and he smiled at a bonneted woman, her arms filled with a basket of food. She lifted her chin and turned her back to him.
People got like that if you raised taxes and kept secrets from them.
Braid wrapped around his arm, Julian wrinkled his nose at her back and strode into the now empty cutlery shop.
Only the owner waited for him, her arms across her chest.
"Did you get it?" He asked.
"I did, but it wasn't cheap. Did you bring what I asked for?"
"I did," he said, pulling a black velvet bag from his pocket. He set the bag on the counter without letting go of it.
Her nose twitched, but she reached under her counter and pulled the largest knife that Julian was sure he'd ever planned to own. It was as easily half as tall as he was and unlike a knife where the handle was more at one side or the other, the handle was dead center on this one, with two curling protectors to keep one's hand from slipping down. The metal was pale, polished as he unwrapped it, laying open the dark blue satin coverings. "It is too lovely to be a weapon."
"Just because something shines, doesn't make it nice," she said, half prying the smaller bag from his hand. She opened it up and pulled free a necklace of ruby and silver. "But shine is very nice."
Julian picked up the sword and quickly moved to two-handed grip. In his hands, it began to glow ever so very slightly as the enchanted blade reacted to the sunlight stored in the rings he wore under his gloves. "Splendid."
"What are you going to slay with that? Vampires? Or just pretty to hang in your house? You lot do know that people are suffering with having to pay you so much tax?"
Julian smiled softly, blue bangs falling over his face as his chin dipped. "Maybe you should leave if you don't like it here."
"Yeah? Well, maybe we should just get rid of the government."
"Mind what you wish for," Julian side grimly, wrapping his prize and leaving without another word.
There was no denying the tension building in the city. In his mind it moved from being the City of White to being the City of the Sharpest Edge.
<><><>
It had been sometime since Julian had spoken to any of the other Elders. There was a feeling of denial which swore that such a disaster could never befall the city, but this was braided with an almost virulent wish for the end to just come so that the worry would end. Julian was sure he'd earned himself a reputation as a coward among the other elders and as council meetings grew ever less frequent, he really hadn't the opportunity to really ask. Not that he would have anyway.
He had plenty of tasks with which to occupy his time as it was. His own preparations for defense now mostly complete, he busied himself at his favorite position. Julian Chance was Headmaster of Chance Academy, a boarding school for children of uncertain circumstances. Thirty-two children called Chance Academy their home and they ranged from the nearly of age to a babe who still needed a wet nurse.
They had two classrooms, a kitchen that a dragon could curl up in, and enough bed linen that Julian swore he'd never offer to hang the laundry again, ever. The building was marble and harder to heat in winter than Julian would have liked, but in summer the gardens behind it flourished with every manner of vegetables and newborn kittens. It was a home to Julian as much as it was to the children who lived their, their teachers, and Master Fin who taskmaster and doctor.
If there was anywhere in the city which suffered the least from the Elder's indecision and squabbling it was Chance Academy. Julian Chance, Elder of the City of White, had sworn to them that no harm would come to them. So studies of math and reading, history and literature, of science and magic, all these things continued. The tomatoes were picked and canned and sent to the storage space at Chance Manor. New dollies were sewn in the last warmth of summer and warm socks knitted in gatherings in the kitchen after dinner. Even Julian learned to knit, though Master Fin thought Julian's socks were more like cat nests than socks.
Master Fin had a wicked sense of humor and Julian was more often than not subject of the man's humor. The man was taller than Julian by at least the width of a man's hand. He had dark brown hair that could glint red and gold in the late summer, cut short and never too neatly, often with a feather tied so it hung from his temple, he could smile and seem as if he were always withholding some terribly interesting secret. He never spoke of the world he'd come from, of family or his life before. When he did speak it was always of the present or the near future, of something he wished Julian to know about with the children.
"You wanted to see me, Julian," he asked, voice warm and golden as his skin.
Julian sat at the desk in his office, some huge and ornate object, a quill in hand and violet eyes already lost to whatever story that held his attention. "Master Fin, yes, please, come in and close the door, if you would."
"I need to speak with you as well," Fin said, closing the door quietly. "The most pressing is that Mira and Costan are both looking at each other with family in their eyes. I think we should find an apprenticeship for both of them, separately."
Julian scratched his ear, eyebrows drawing down. "But neither are of age."
"It's about all I can do to keep them apart. They're both a year from their sixteen year, and I hardly think either of them are ready for the responsibilities…."
Holding up a hand, Julian's mouth opened, closed, and then, "Yes, well, we shall settle that. Do you have an apprenticeship in mind for either of them?"
"I think Costan would do well as a healer. He's bright and has a good temperament for it. Mira though seems to have no room in her mind for anything other than Costan."
"There is another matter, quite pressing," Julian said, fingering a bag of yellow silk. "There has been quite a lot of tension in the city of late."
"Yes," Fin said, nodding. "You of a mind to tell me what that's about? Why are you raising taxes like this?"
Frowning, Julian bowed his head and reached for the bag. "You know I can't tell you that, Master Fin. It is common knowledge on the streets that some disaster is headed our way."
"Are you in danger?"
"No more than all of us," Julian said, pulling a small bracelet from the yellow bag. "I fear I am not the most adept at magic, but this is something from my home, blended with a bit of magic which I have studied here, and magic ancient enough to reach to my farthest memories. Here."
"Shamanistic?" Fin asked as he turned the thin bracelet around, studying it. Made of yellow silk thread braided with very fine blue thread with two beads, one silver and one golden, both held tightly together as if by some magic.
"A little. It's a primitive form of naming magic. Once it is put on, and the beads broken apart, it leaves a mark which cannot be dimmed by any magic, light or dark, until the creator of the mark wills it to fade, or dies. Put it on?"
"Why do this?"
"There may come a time when it will be life or death to be able to tell the difference between friend and foe. I would be most honored if you would accept this gift from me, Most Honorable Master Fin."
Dark eyes searched Julian's face, but he slipped the bracelet around his wrist and broke the beads apart. A glow of sunlight and rainbow circled the tanned wrist and slowly faded away, leaving just a slight memory of cherry blossoms. For another moment neither said a thing. Sometimes words can say just what you mean and still mangle the meaning of one's heart.
"Here," Julian said, "There are thirty-fire more charms, one for each of the children and teachers here, and five more for you to give to important and deserving people, for perhaps your lover or romantic interest."
"My lover?" Fin asked, looking up from the contents of the bag to search Julian's face for explanation.
"Well, just in case, you understand, as I'm not familiar with who your interests are. Please let me know if is urgent that you have additional charms."
"We are in a right mess, aren't we?"
"Quite," Julian said. "I shall never let harm befall the people here. All of you are vitally important to me and no matter how or what fight comes to our door, I shall see you all safe."
"And yourself?"
"Should war come to the White City, I should fight to protect her, should I not? I am no coward. Your charge is to protect the children. This is your fight and your courage. I must protect the city."
Silence can be very cold. Master Fin closed the bag, stood and left the door open when he left.
Julian didn't get so much as another line written for the rest of the day. Toby's dinner held no flavor. The night's dreams were filled with monsters which Julian had no hope of defeating.
<><><>
Time loses it's meaning when all things that marked time are twisted and abandoned. Julian's bizarre redecorating and purchases seemed to go unnoticed by the other Elders and to be proof of the Elder's corruption. He stocked the house with food, enchanted to last over time. He felt as if the same enchantments may even have been laid over himself, as if he were enchanted to last over time.
Sitting in his chair, quill and paper in hand, there were moments when he thought he'd sit there forever. Waiting brings a kind of solitude that stubbornly refuses all ideas for reprieve.
Some night, when he'd fallen asleep in his chair, moonlight laying across his face, blue hair worked free of his braid and fluttered softly with his breath, that was the night he missed the dark shade that moved over the moon. Fingers relaxed over the spine of 'Great Earth Poets', he also didn't see the glint of sunlight that flashed from his sword, which was half unwrapped under his chair. The creature of flowing shadow and matte black void for eyes and silently screaming mouth saw it though and left his window as if repelled.
"Master!" Charlotte screamed, still not through the floor. "It's begun!"
"Crumbs!" Julian spat, his book hitting the floor as he nearly followed it in his attempted to get to his sword. "Tell Evet and Toby, meet me at the Academy. How many are there?"
"Just the forward scouts," she said, washing her hands, golden eyes wide and shining enough that he would later wonder if she'd been crying. "Master, do not go out there! You are not a fighter. You will fall."
Already headed down his stairs, he ignored her, while still depending on her to complete what he'd asked for. In books, the hero ran with a sword without any problem, long strides and then the powerful thrust and swoosh. In reality, Julian was tired of carrying the thing by the time he'd reached the entrance to his own house. Evet was there with his master's boots and a leather coat. The coat itself, as bulky and stiff as it felt to Julian, had a reinforced hole to slide the blade through. That had been Toby's idea and Julian was well glad of it at this point.
"Mr. Chance?"
"Set the ward blessings as I explained to you, Evet. Bring your lady into the library. I will return."
"Let me come with you? We have more of the sunlight capsules."
"Bring your lady, protect the house. The only people allowed in are the ones to which I've given talismans. Among our enemy there are shapeshifters and they are not to be reasoned with nor underestimated."
"Yes, Mr. Chance."
Julian tipped his head and Evet grabbed his hand for a moment, nervous, and made to kiss his employer's knuckles before Julian pulled back his hand, shifting the grip a little so that he grasped his servant's and shook. "When I return, ask me, and I shall tell you the ancient meaning of those greetings."
Evet held Julian's hand a moment longer and then a scream from outside shattered whatever illusion there was that this was not the first battle in a war for which none of them were truly prepared.
The horses had been sold with the Cow and Jake and Jane. On foot, Julian ran towards his Academy. Sulfur and fire filled the air. Screams, which Julian's mind blurred to indistinct bled into the smoke. His hand went numb round the hilt of his sword, acid burned up his throat and he turned into a narrow way, hoping to cut through into the academic district. As soon as he came out the other side and was still in shadow he made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.
Cobblestones are neither clean nor forgiving, but rolling over them was more welcome than the creature that alighted to the road near him. It moved like a horse in strength, the way a horses' muscles are huge and move with silken grace, but that was the last thing of grace about it as it rose up on it's back legs, fists unfolding into hands easily as large as Julian's head. The wings blotted out both the light of the moon and flickering red from the burning city, but it's smile showed a deathly intelligence and pleasure in having found something to play with.
Already bruised, having made it to one knee, Julian worked on drawing his sword. It pulled free as he rose to his feet and it took both hands to hold it.
"Do you remember me, Elder? Do you remember banishing me?"
"Do you remember the part where we didn't kill you?" Julian asked, backing a step away.
"I remember the part where I dream of ripping bits of your flesh off with my own teeth, where you scream for death."
The path of the arrow caressed Julian's head as it flew over him and impaled itself in the throat of the creature. Sword still held up in defense, Julian spun to find Master Fin releasing another arrow.
The man had painted streaks of red and black along his cheekbones and chest. "Run!"
Julian spun back around though, willing the enchantment of the sword to activate. Sunlight and hope filled the space around them. As if there were perfect timing, a flash of sunlight and sakura blossoms flashed into being under the arch a block up quickly followed by squeals of pain and outrage by some species that Julian hadn't even a desire to name. The stars that followed danced mostly behind Julian's eyes and he realized he was down, sprawled on the cobblestones again, a bruise the size of a hammer making the side of his head scream those stars at him.
Master Fin though had two axes, one in each hand, neither all that long, but in close he was able to do terrifying damage to the creature. It's head lulled back, blood fountaining, and above them some other creature cheered, perhaps seeing the fallen Elder and mistaking the roles of the dying demon and the berserk creature slaying it.
Julian swayed as he pressed a hand to the ground and pushed himself up. The hand that grabbed the back of his shirt was familiar and his protests came out as mumbles. Fin grabbed his sword and, quite without ceremony, Julian found himself thrown over a broad shoulder.
The next time he opened his eyes, Costan's hands were lightly touching his cheeks. Julian drew a deep ragged breath as the healing spell repaired damage to his head, or Fate knew what. The boy's smile was tentative, worried. "Master Chance?"
"Yes, thank you," Julian said, patting the boy on his shoulder proudly. "Quite the healer."
Julian pushed himself up the wall behind him to find a group of eyes watching him. They were in the meditation center of the school, all the students, teachers, at least a couple of spouses, all of them watching him, because he was going to have the answers.
"How long?"
"Nearly an hour, Master Chance. I didn't get the spell right the first, er, couple of times."
"Right in the end is all that matters," Julian said, feeling at the hole in his leather coat for his sword.
A woman handed him his sword back. As tall as Julian, possibly broader of shoulders, and looking very like Master Xing, the math professor, she stepped back, expectantly. Gods, he felt like a fool. "Here," he said, handing it back to her. "I'm not a fighter. I'm a man of letters and gentle pursuits, but I have somewhere that we can go to be safe. I know that some people have been able to flee the city. Some of us are not able to flee. Some people have nowhere to go except the White City. We will find a way to save our city, but tonight we will need to be safe. Will you come with me to a place of safety?"
The baby started to cry and one of the older children, Mira perhaps, hushed and cooed at it.
Costan nodded, but said, "There are monsters everywhere, and the army is fighting them in the streets. Where are we going to go?"
"If you're on the streets, I don't know that either side can tell the difference," Master Xing said, her cowl pulled up around her head. "The Elders have failed us. The city will fall."
"There is more than one way to fall," Julian said, straightening. "Atlantis fell and was never seen again. Rome fell and she rebuilt. I am an Elder and I have failed the city. I don't know how to save her. I can't fight these monsters with these hands of mine." He held out his very human hands, no claws, no magic markings of a great sorcerer, just the hands of a man now scraped and bruised. "I can save you. Others will save others. Kentaro and his army will find a way to drive them back. Morrigan will defend us. We help no one and protect nothing if we die like wheat under the scythe."
"What do we do," Master Fin asked, his face still painted in frightening colors and mystery.
"We must make it back to my house. If she still stands, there is a way to be safe. I have a way to hide the house."
"So you're planning on just hiding? Letting others fight for you?" Master Xing said, contempt clear in dark eyes.
"I intend to fight and probably die defending the White City!"
One of the younger children started to cry and Mira drew the child close. "The army will fight them off! We don't have…."
Master Xing rounded on the girl, arm raised to deliver a stinging smack, but Julian's hand caught the math professor's hand. "No! Mira and these children are the future of the White City. Our first job, no matter what path we take after that, is to seem them safe from the fighting."
Wrenching her wrist free from Julian, Master Xing grabbed the sword back from her sister and thrust it out at Julian. "Live up to the trust and respect we've given you then! You coward!"
"Mr. Chance," Master Fin said, voice cold and more dangerous in it's premeditation and than Master Xing may have been capable of in that moment, "is not a coward. He helped lay the foundations of this city and of the school where we all live. He is right that surviving is the best way to fight."
"I don't want to die," a skinny boy with lavender colored hair said, eyes haunted. "I didn't like it last time."
"We must be brave," Julian said lifting his sword to put it back through the hole in his jacket. He had been such a fool, so afraid of what the other Elders would say when they saw his cowardice that he had not gone to them for help, even to get a sword which would be more functional that pretty. "The Fates have brought us here to this place and though we don't know where our path may lead us after this world, we will hold to the spark of life with all our strength. We will reach a place of safety this night."
"Very touching," a new voice said, materializing out of the darkness at the edge of the basement. "But I suppose this means you will not be trying to kill each other. How disappointing."
The creature seemed human enough, a man of healthy build and blond hair, wearing the black and silver military uniform of a Nureese military officer. From an inside pocket he pulled a black metal wand that was curved at the handle. He pointed it at Costan and the bang that followed discharged some strange magic that tore into the young man's belly. Blood sprayed out the back of him, seeming to even steal the very breath from him as he fell. Mira screamed.
The strange wand aimed at her next and Julian threw the sunlight capsule, aiming over the heads of his children towards the vampire. The spell exploded as it neared the creature, filling the room with a good thirty seconds of summer with pink sakura blossom petals floating down. Smoke and curses mingled as the vampire captain fled.
"Quickly! We must go," Julian said, moving to lift the wounded boy.
"He'll attract more vampires! He's bleeding!"
"Then we'd better move quickly," Master Fin said, moving towards the stairs. "Mr. Chance, can you carry him? Everyone, put your cloaks on, cover your heads."
"I have him," Julian said, wishing he hadn't taken the sword back. "Costan, try to be as quiet as you can be. My home is not far. You've all been to my home. Everyone does know the way, in case we are separated. Xing! Stay with us at least until we have the children safe. Is that understood?"
"I am not a coward to leave people undefended," she said.
"When we get through this," Julian snapped back, holding Costan as gently as he could, "Master Xing, you will need to find alternative employment and don't expect a glowing reference."
"Working for an Elder," she said derisively, leaving it at that.
The door to the meditation center opened and torch light flared down around them. "Mr. Chance!"
"Evet? We're here. The house?"
"Charlotte's holding it. Ya gotta hurry Mr. Chance! I brought the carriage, borrowed some horses!"
Books had become scattered and torn pages, furniture and personal belongings not much better. One of the marble walls that the Elders has set so long ago now bore a scorched hole. The roof gave a view of the stars, of burning fires throwing red into the sky. Reaching the outside the mostly ruined academy, Julian felt the weight of the battle, the wounds to his city and the sorrow of his people all around him. He could save so few and they were all his responsibility. Costan lay shivering in his arms, the boy's blood chilling Julian's shirt and pants in the night air.
"Mr. Chance!" Evet called.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," he said, setting Costan into the carriage and then ushering all of the smaller children into the limited space first. "We need a healer. What news?"
"The army is holding the bulk of the invaders beyond the cathedral line, but a messenger was sent to the house make sure you were aware to get to safety. They will not be able to hold them for long! What took you so long?"
"As if there is a lot of safety to be had," Julian complained. "Get on the roof, everyone on on!"
There was not enough room for Julian inside the carriage and he could not even get the door closed, still the entire school, at least those choosing to go with him, had found a place on or in the carriage. Wherever Evet had gotten the horses, they were none too happy about hauling a full sized carriage. Holding the door closed with his body, he found footing on the steps, hands clinging to the railing above.
Air turned colder, as if the night were bleeding away what life it had. Copper and sulfur blended with screams and smoke, etching an image of a fiery afterlife into Julian's imagination. To run away and hide - it was the smartest thing to do. He didn't want to do it. He wanted to rise victorious over the city, an avenging angel who could drive out harm and danger.
A rush of cold air lashed his back, drawing his attention forward to the horses where a dark shadow was turning liquid and raining down on one of the terrified beasts. The creature looked over it's shoulder, face ashen, grin full of teeth.
"Pooka!" Evet screamed even as he tried to reign in the horses. The pooka had them, though, their minds completely under her control. "Woah! Woah!"
The Pooka turned, slender clawed hand aiming at Evet. Julian jumped reaching for the driver's bench. The sword clattered against the carriage, the weight of it drawing him back and down towards the front wheel. "Evet!"
Julian reached the driver's bench just in time to grab Evet and prevent the man from falling off the far side. The horses raced under the control of the pooka spirit. Pookas weren't undead, weren't bothered by sunlight, and were some of the most adaptable creatures he'd ever learned of. They also fed off of fear, most particularly that brought on by nightmares. She cackled over her shoulder at him, then leaned forward to take his carriage rushing past his house and towards the main Elder palace. One hand a fist in his hair, another over his mouth, he turned to look back at his house, at the shimmering and failing energy barrier that Charlotte still held on it, and that strengthened his resolve.
Nightmares scared because they were difficult to shake off one's belief in them. "I am not afraid!" He yelled, pulling the breaks with both hands, holding it back. "You will not have us!"
Wood and metal groaned, splintered. The pooka's head turned fully to face him, her glowing eyes narrowed and focused on him when the front axel and the connection to the yoke broke clean away. Without her front wheels the carriage lurched, almost as if she were kneeling, the back wheels skidding around even as she tipped. Those on top jumped or were flung. Their screams hardly colored the noise of the battle going on around them.
The pooka, still bonded with the horses she'd possessed, screamed as the beasts carried her away into the night and other battles.
Julian had hardly felt his own impact to the cobble stones. Master Fin was already pushing himself out of the carriage, up through the far door which was now on the top.
"We must hurry! The house is just here! Everything is prepared!"
Xing, who had been clinging to the back of the carriage, was now on her feet, making hand symbols that Julian had never seen in all his memories or dreams. Very quickly a dark fog, like a curtain falling, bubbled around them and the sound of the many battles became a distant clatter. "This will not hold for long!"
Master Fin lifted child after child down, until then he was lifting adults, and finally he went back in for Costan, who was simply dead weight, pale and barely breathing. It took Julian and Xing's sister both to pull the boy up through the door.
On top of the carriage, Julian pulled the boy close, felt for a pulse at his throat. Weak and fluttery, Julian wished he could apply more of what he'd read of healing technology or healing magic, or something that would make him more powerful. "We must hurry. I must seal the house before there are enemies inside of it."
Mira pulled herself half way back up to the carriage. "He's not going to die."
"We shall do our best," Julian said, having no idea how to save the boy or how to reach the army where the best healers were nor even how to send for help. "After the spell, I shall take him to the army. They have healers."
"You're a fool," Xing snarled.
Then through her magic barrier, silver as moonlight stealing through the thickest storm, a white horse and armored knight breached, as if they'd appeared only there to find them. One gauntleted hand took hold of the visor and lifted, revealing a face of delicate beauty, androgynous and calm. "Mr. Chance, I have come to offer my assistance."
"Can you do healing magic?" Julian asked, still kneeling on the overturned carriage with Costan, blood smeared across his face and collar, "This boy is gravely wounded."
The horse, which now it was obvious, was a unicorn whose horn was so aged that it had turned clear as diamond, sidled closer. The horse neighed as her rider pulled a hand out of his gauntlet. "There are many wounds, and not enough energy to heal them all." Dark green eyes closing, the knight traced the symbol for health and whole above Costan's chest, leaving shimmering blue lines hanging in the air. A moment later, a nasty little knot of metal rose up out of the boy into the waiting hand, "He will survive. Have you a way to get out of the city?"
"I'm not going to leave! I'm going to fight," Julian yelled, looking up at the knight on the horse. "I can fight."
"You can die as well," the knight said, "I doubt you know me, but I know you, and you are important to me. It is said that secrets of the heart run quickest with blood of the body. Know you this, you are important to me, and I will see you when this is over. Swear to me that you will do your best to live through this battle? You are a keeper of knowledge and a guardian of truth. It is best for our city that you do not bleed out that knowledge attempting to be what you are not."
"Are you a seer? Can you see what fate I will find if I fight against these fiends? What fate waits for you? A soul can only find the path by walking it."
"As a matter of fact," the knight said, leaning closer to look into Julian's eyes, "I am also an oracle, on occasion. Swear, or I shall not see you and yours to your door."
"That is blackmail," Julian snarled, "Most contemptible to threaten to withhold your protection from those who need it so as to extract compliance."
"Oracle, healer, extortionist," the knight said, "I never said I was a nice man."
"Fine! I swear, as long as you see us all to my house and that I am able to cast the protective spell, I shall stay hidden until it is safe."
"It is not so difficult to be reasonable, is it?"
"This is not reason! It is," Julian gritted his teeth. "We have not the time, but you sir! You sir shall hear from me later about this matter."
"I shall look forward to it."
"People are dying," Xing growled, "And the elders have time for flirtatious games!"
The knight's hand moved so quickly, and Julian was sure he saw a wand of the finest white and gold. Xing's mouth was open, but her words remained her own as her body shrank with a pop, becoming a small furry beast about the size of a woman's shoe. "Pick her up. The transformation is only temporary and without her protective, we must really hurry." With that he caught hold of Costan's shirt and pulled the boy off of Julian, handing him down to Master Fin. "I suggest you run."
Julian, however, was next to be caught by that strong hand, and pulled, with great presumption, before the knight on his mount. The group kept pace together, the knight keeping his own protection over them until they'd reached house. Charlotte opened the door and the students and their teachers, what family their had been at the school poured into Julian's house.
"Before I let you down, Mr. Chance," the knight said, his voice dangerous silk against Julian's ear. "I know what spell you have and what the cost of casting it is. I want to know how you plan to cast it and still keep your vow."
"I have a way," Julian whispered, the final moment at hand. "It would have been easier if I could have fought afterwards and felt nothing for what I must do."
"Which one will you sacrifice to save the rest? It is a dark magic. Why did you chose this?"
"Because I have a way," Julian said moving to slip down from the horse. "You sir, must swear that you will face me when this is ended, for we must have a reckoning."
"I do swear by the stars that give birth to purity, that I shall face whatever retribution you may have for me, given that you are whole in body and mind and have not become a murderer before morning."
"But sometime tomorrow is fine?" Julian smirked, letting the knight hand him down. "You sir, are no lawyer."
"I have never made such a claim. I am just a simple reader of books and servant of the light."
The growl that drew their attention next was that of some other creature Julian was loath to name. As tall as the unicorn and half again as broad as her length, fists like barrels, it thudded it's way towards them. The knight drew his sword, radiant as any knight from any book, his mount rearing, her hooves striking sparks from the road.
Julian ran. Instinct killed off any wit or pride, and he scrambled into the door, flung it shut behind him, back to the door, he faced all the terrified faces of his students and employees, their families. "Where's my cat? Did someone get Evet?"
"I'm here," Evet said, back to the wall where he sat.
"I got her," Toby said. "She's upstairs."
"Good, good, good," Julian said, reaching for the dagger laid out on the small table by the door. Mouth suddenly dry, he set the dagger back down and shrugged out of his coat. The sword and leather slumped down in an awful sound and he grabbed his braid, which he'd taken great care to protect before he'd gone out. In a bag at his waist, the length of it grew and grew as he pulled until it surely passed his ankles. "Charlotte?"
"Yes, my master," she said, still spread out over the whole of the house. "Now?"
"Now," he said, not giving himself a moment to think or change his mind, no moment to understand the meaning of what he did and how deeply it went into the root of his soul, even deeper into the souls of all echoes of him in every life. Hand shaking, he picked up the blade. "Soul sacrifice, knowledge true, I give of myself," he muttered, resisting, wanting to disbelieve even as he knew he had to power the spell with his own faith.
"Master? Harpies!"
"Now, Charlotte! Now, get inside!"
With one clean jerk, he sliced away his braid. His scream tore his soul in half. Songs and languages, books, dreams, other lives, other loves, knowledge hive-like in it's complexity left him, burned in a glittering magic that suddenly quieted the battle outside. The air smelled of roses and baking bread, nothing more, save maybe the polish on his banister. Nothing banged against fragile wood and glass. No monsters tried to murder what they could not see or reach.
Julian turned, his remaining hair, the symbol of his soul and memory flaring out around him. The blade dropped, shattering like crystal against the dark wood of the floor. "It will hold. We are safe. I could have given it nothing stronger. Nothing will break through three hundred years of soul."
His books gone, his soul severed, Julian leaned against the door, head tilted back, and cried.
And that is how Julian Chance left the battle for the City of White.
Edited by: Sethron at: 8/8/07 5:23 pm
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