Paige is still asleep when Celina feels it's time for the midday meal. Court has certainly begun, and her experience with Moire suggests that it would be unwise for her to slip in late unless her uncle's court is significantly less formal than her mother's.
Celina is sure she could slip out and explore the castle for a while without awakening Paige.
[What would you like to do? You can explore, meet castle NPCs, have time pass and look for Brita or anyone who leaves court, or something else altogether.]
Beauty and yearning flutter counterpoint through the morning as the Seaward girl admires Xanadu's ocean property. Celina keeps her barefoot trips to the bedroom to check on the three guests to a minimum.
Finally, her stomach signals the time. Celina heads out to find the kitchen again with its humming cold box.
And after a swift devastating foray there, Celina wishes to explore the castle in a 'random pattern' to find the tools and makings for glass, copper sheet, and other things that might put her feet on the path of showing Uncle Bleys a few things.
Distractions and encounters, of course, are also on the agenda.
The castle is a mix of rooms that look as if they're unfinished and places where there has been lavish attention to detail. Much of it seems whimsical, as if someone said "we need faces on these keystone arches", and it was done.
Down a few flights of stairs is a room with an odd mixture of wires and equipment and primitive gear. A series of wires connected to a row of metal plates connected by springs sits on the center of the table.
The Seaward girl walks the perimeter of the room noting hard connections and where the 'source' lines might be. Without touching anything, she even measure different wires compared to her fingernail for comparative sizes. Thicker wires have more interest and she studies those connections to the mechanism.
Finally she comes back to the plates and springs. She investigates the table with fingertips to find a drawer where the crafter set tools or supplies. If she finds any, she studies them like fossils to get some familiarity with the part those tools may influence.
Rubber gloves would be nice. And she's definitely looking for silver and copper in the raw or used within the odd device.
If she finds the gloves, she'll probably actually put them on and test the spring strength. A generator? Or a distribution mechanism? Celina may end up with smudges on her face.
She finds tools, but it's unclear how they work. One that seems to have been much-used looks like an awl with a wire out the back end.
The tools get tested and tasted.
Celina finds a receptacle that matches the end of the wire and plugs in the awl-thing. After a few moments, it heats up. It looks as if it could be used to brand something. The tip looks sharp.
It can't be a weapon, though. The wire is very short.
A short sniff of the hot tip and she is eyeing other material scattered in other piles. She shuts off the firepoint, knowing somehow it doesn't even have a switch.
The wires are connected to the springs by blobs of metal. Celina sees gloves, but they're not rubber. It looks like the springs and plates are connected in parallel to wires that go straight from an input to an output. There are some controls on the table, and some diagrams, but it's not clear what the thing is supposed to do.
Humming to herself, Celina sniffs to see if there is a flavor in the wires or welds. She devours the diagrams and her fingers itch to make sketches of possible flows. She often stops to imagine the hands that have worked here -- or if the work came from corporeal craftsmen.
Later Celina is under the table tapping along the structure to see if there are other hidden spaces beside the tool drawers. Humming again, she examines the floor to see if any tracks or scrapings from outside have accumulated. She becomes more bouyant thinking about purposes and tinkering -- even though her ideas are pure fancy.
When she taps the table, the apparatus on it makes a resonating metallic clang, and the echoes take nearly a minute to die out.
There's a plug on the device, just like on the tool.
Celina's delighted to find the plug. She carefully sets it aside for later trouble. A brief vision of sparks arcing to her fingertips and moist bits brings a grin to her face.
What of it? There is no one to disturb me for the moment. When shall I again have play time?
She certainly sniffs the gloves when it occurs to her that the worker might be recognized by their hand sweat. She tries them on and leaves them on as she goes to study the drawings again. Celina eyes the controls with some lust; traces the drawings with a fingertip.
If the switches in the diagrams are what she thinks they are, then they control the flow of something into and through the various plate arrays and springs. There seems to be some effort taken to separate the spaces.
Then she decides that searching nearby rooms might produce some wire she might experiment with without disturbing her found mystery.
There's plenty of wire right here, including weird bundle of wires with connectors on each end that match the inputs on the odd box. In some ways they don't look very different from the awl-thing, except they're much smaller. There are a score of them coming out like hyrda-heads from the bundle.
Hmmm. Celina does pattern-matching of plugs and possible crevices about the gear. She is content to do test kisses between them without allowing actual penetration.
After another hour and dusty finger-smudges galore, she sits on her rump admiring the thing. "If I had to wager a coin, I'd say you are some sort of musical instrument or an accessory to same. None of this would work in the Seaward, but the air spacing between plates..." She teases her lip with her tongue while she imagines fields held apart by springs and anbaric power. Wouldn't it hum? Or perhaps even wail in some ethereal metallic key? Would waving the hands change the notes; alter the resistance between plates?.
She grins. "Or are you just muscle, my dangerous looking friend? The real instrument gets added to you through those smaller sockets?"
"Almost. It's a mechanical reverberator." Soren Daniels stands in the doorway. "It adds the illusion of being in a larger space to sounds. Or it will when it works. Are you interested in music?"
Celina abruptly turns, but then smiles. "Hello." She comes to her feet. "I am interested in a lot. I dance, whether there is music or no. I came down here looking for anbaric equipment and got captured by the ...mechanical reverberator." She realizes only now that she's been playing with someone else's pearls without leave. Celina steps forward. "If I've mussed anything, I'll help you set it right."
"Anbaric equipment? Oh, yes, you could call it that. It's sort of frustrating for me, actually. I'm an expert in using the tools that we had in Texorami, but now I have to make tools to make tools with." He grins. "I don't think Syd's going to have any more luck telling me to be patient than his grandfather will with Hannah." He shakes his head.
"Most of what I'm doing here would be considered 'retro' back home, but I've got to have placeholders until we develop better gear. Syd says there are places where electricity isn't another expression of magnetism, which means I have to try everything and can't assume things will just work.
"Wanna see what it can do so far? I guarantee it will underwhelm you."
"Guarantee?" Celina laughs. "I'm not much of a gambler by inclination. What do I win if you're wrong and I'm impressed?" She easily steps to his side to give him clear space -- and command -- of the room and its mystery gear.
"If I'm wrong, I'll thank you on my next album for being gracious." He smiles back and starts gathering cords and equipment and takes them into the next room. "This is the control room. The easy parts are here." He turns on a light switch and Celina sees a bench facing a large, darkened window and a very small collection of more finished equipment that also looks like Soren's half-finished gear. The door to the room is very thick, and it's a room that is somehow very quiet.
Celina runs fingertips over the heavy door. She admires the room and smells the unique softness that might be part of the quiet.
He a long cord with a bulb on the end of it into a box, wires that to the new machine, and plugs another cord in . He holds up something. "These are headphones. You wear them over your ears, and sound comes out." He steps up to her and puts the headphones on her.
"You've been busy," she grins. Celina finds that she can't hear much of anything with the headphones on, although there's a low hum and a sound not completely unlike distant surf from below.
She taps the headphones in simple examination; right and then left.
Soren turns on his equipment and adjusts it. He speaks into the bulb and she hears him, although he doesn't sound natural. "OK, you can hear me, which I didn't have working last week. Close your eyes, it helps most people listen better."
Having been trained to listen by Rebman court, she hesitates and then closes her eyes.
"OK, I'll show you how this works. One." He makes a clicking noise, <tock!> with his mouth. "Two." <tock!> This time it's not as clear. "Three." <tock!> The third one sounds as if he's touched the spring. "And four." <tock!> The spring jangles, almost obliterating the click from his mouth.
She hears a definite pop as Soren turns off the machine and she feels the warmth of his body as he steps over to her again and pulls the headphones off her ears. "What you're supposed to get is an extension of the time of the decay of the sound in a way that sounds natural. What it does now is too clangy."
She opens her eyes. "But clang and metal echo are music beneath the waves."
He nods. "Yes, but it's like sculpture. I want to add what I want to add, and not more than that. I'm getting too much." Soren is still next to Celina. "I don't suppose you have an oscilloscope handy? I left mine in my other life..." He's smiling.
"I bet that's not octopus related, is it?" Celina offers the small joke.
"Not any octopus I've ever seen, no."
Celina feels something soft and furry brushing against her ankles. "Meow."
She looks down. "Your cat likes clang. Or red boots." She looks again at Soren. "About your other life--."
"Texorami? Syd says I'd've ended up here anyway. Apparently you people create wakes." He reaches down and picks up the cat. He's old and large, and seems perfectly happy to be held. He sniffs at Celina, his whiskers all pointed at the seaward lass.
Wakes? At last something that makes sense right off. That would explain how to manage the guard. Celina leans closer sniffing the cat and reaching to pet him. She realizes she's more interested in Soren's scent. It's a nice one.
Her hand enjoys the cat's coat running between her fingers. She also basks in the warmth Soren is putting off. "So your friendship with the King gives you a passport to his wake. And you're adaptable, technically eclectic, and a reasonable hand with managing groups of people--including strangers." She smiles. "I like the sculpting analogy."
"I've been in bands with Syd and Folly. I'm an expert at herding cats."
Celina grins. It translates.
Her hand slides over the cat again and paths on and across Soren's forearm wrapped to cradle the cat. She does not acknowledge this intrusion of his space though it would have been rude even in the Seaward. Her aunts would be glaring right now if they were here. "Retro must mean crude? Do they have green girls in Texorami, Soren? Some other interesting colors perhaps?" She looks him in the eye and pets the cat again.
He stares back into her eyes. "No, they're pretty monochromatically 'retro' back there. It's not nearly as ... interesting." Celina's aunts would definitely be glaring. Or something.
"Oh?" Her fingers rub the back of the cat's head. "Well, you lose. I'm not at all underwhelmed with your reverberator. I look forward to your next... album and my thanks." The cat flinches a bit when the tracking fingertip exertions telegraph how much she likes Soren's direct stare. Celina takes her hands behind her back and twines her fingers.
"Anything else you'd like to show me?" Celina chews on her lip. "Best two out of three?" She smiles slightly. "Or would you like to help me make something?"
"Careful there, Daniels, I don't think she loses bets." The voice of the King rings out from the doorway. Soren starts, then winces slightly as the cat leaps ungracefully from his arms and runs under a rack of equipment.
Celina jolts, wrenches her fingers apart faster than they tangled and winces. She glances at her hands a moment wondering at her own reflexes until she recalls to whom she is related.
"Hey, Syd. I was just showing Celina our reverb." He turns, rubbing his arm. Small dots of red show through the thin material of his sleeve.
"I see," says the King. He turns to Celina. "I didn't know you were interested in the mechanical side of sound reinforcement."
"I didn't know you were at need quieter than a purring cat," Celina returns softly. She blinks at him, then adds, "The device stirred all my curious parts. It just called to be-- investigated. Soren was kind enough to show me. I'm working on a surprise for you, a gift, and I thought the reverberator would be a good entree."
Celina smiles. "Now the surprise is surprised instead."
"The room is designed to eliminate outside noises," Soren explains. That's sculpture again, it's easier to get the right final shape if we start with the cleanest source."
"If he starts talking about hearing your heat beat in your ears, that's his prize etching." The king smirks and Soren mostly manages to keep from rolling his eyes. "I figure we're about halfway there with the reverb. What are you working on, or is it impolite to ask a Rebman about her mysteries?"
Celina half-turns and squeezes Soren's arm as congratulations that he's going to be part of the 'secret conversation'. She looks at Random. "Very impolite. I'm quite tempted to swim off with rumpled scales." She grins, "Oh wait, I wanted you to ask."
She repositions her body so that the three have heads together in classic conspirator style and she drapes her arms over their shoulders to either side. Celina whispers and explains that the many bright surfaces of Xanadu will sooner rather than later give Moire temptations of gathering information here. Celina suggests that copper anbaric mirrors be created and used in several places about the palace. Moving them about and using them to confuse what is considered important and not will be an excellent distraction. Perhaps it will remind Rebma to ask for information rather than pilfer it. Perhaps the etiquette of mirrors will change in Xanadu.
Celina watches the menfolk for response.
Soren says, "I was wondering why it was all crystal and no mirrors in the great hall. I put it down to Syd's um... taste."
Celina nods.
"Hmm. I like that, Celina," says Random, ignoring Soren. "So, it's like a circuit that's open until someone tries to spy through the mirror, then it closes with them as part of the loop. And what would it do? Electrocute them? That may be harsh for a first offense. What do you need to make it happen?"
Celina looks at the ether for a moment thinking about her uncle's question. "Not electrocute, no. I think you'd have to have an incredible voltage for that to happen. I'm thinking it would be unpleasant, more than a slap by a Triton. I'd be willing to test it to see how hard the reprisal would be. There is enough expertise here to regulate the voltage, I expect."
He seems pleased.
Soren speaks up. "Volts aren't important. Low voltage can be just as deadly with the right amperage. Voltage is the width of the pipe, amperage is the pressure in the hose."
Celina admires Soren. "I remember now. Of course.
"Once the principle is tested," Celina continues, "Xanadu will need glassmaking and copper smelting to support the actual enchantment.." She shrugs. "As a young lady of quality, Nibbeak never did learn me my smelts from my malacopterygians, but I'm sure someone will know."
Celina nods. "Thank you for taking it seriously."
Random nods gravely. "Serious is my middle name. Except I spell it with a Q. Random Q. King"
"I thought it was Random F. King..."
"Yeah, most of the time."
Well, they really do like the idea. And at the Center, amp pressure will not be in short supply. Someone could get electrocuted if we aren't careful. Celina quirks an eyebrow. I did say I'd test it, didn't I?
Soren turns to Celina. "I don't know what a Nibbeak or a malacopterygian is, either, but I do know that Xanadu is supposed to be the trade-hub 'of which all others are but shadows', so maybe we should look for trading partners with what we want. However, we do have plenty of silver, which is both nicely conductive and reflective. We could certainly melt some filthy lucre down for your tests."
Celina scrunches her nose in thought. "Silver. Harder to mine but a very lovely material for anbaric mirrors." She nods with pleasure.
Random pulls back and his focus seems to be elsewhere. "Sorry, I'm not private now. Are you and your friend in danger? I want to put him off until the memorial if we can. I'm still waiting on my other kingdom to report and in a moment I may not have any time for him, which would be a bad start to avuncular relations."
There's a pause, after which Random speaks again.
"I'm glad he understands that. Next up is understanding that there's been an attack and there's very conspicuously not been an 'all clear' call, which in part relies on my not being tied up in other trump calls.
"Here's my suggestion. 'Good news! The King has agreed to see you in two days. Can you be ready by then or should I ask him to make it later?' If you can't figure out anything else, take him to a fast-time shadow and get him fitted for a suit. We are in mourning after all."
Celina mouths the obvious word at Soren: Trump.
"Can they hear us?" Soren asks her.
Celina moves to lean on Soren's shoulder with one hand and continues to talk softly to him. "Random can overhear what we say, but I don't think the far-person usually can. Merlin might be able to, and would know one way or the other. So talking is fine, as long as it isn't too distracting."
She looks distracted now. "We still haven't heard a word from Martin or Merlin--it must be worse than anyone thought."
Random's eyes focus on the two. "Possibly, but if things were bad, we'd be pouring resources at them. That they haven't asked for help tells me that it's not as bad as it could be.
"But yeah, I want to hear from them. I need a smoke."
"Outside," says Soren, firmly.
Celina nods, somehow thinking this applies to her as well.
Random shrugs and turns to Celina. "Your cousin Brennan apparently teaches the lessons in 'timing' that Garrett's been taking. Can you do something with mirrors to show me what's going on in Amber?"
She returns his look. With a shake of her head, she says, "I doubt anything of importance is happening near a mirror, which isn't what you asked. Or is it?" She carries on as if her question had no merit. "Let me prepare a bit. I might be able to arrange something--but don't count on seeing Martin or other movers."
"I'll just be pleased if there are things I don't see--bodies, smoke, boiling oil, Venesch in his underwear. You know, scary things. If they're not there, that's good." He gestures to the door. "Let's go find a mirror, so you can do your thing. What do you need?"
"I have everything I need, Uncle," Celina gestures to the hallway.
Random leads her to a room a few stories up the stairs with an appropriate mirror in it. Soren hands Random a pack of cigarettes and waits. Random breaks the silence. "You're on, Celina. Mirror-tize us."
Celina inspects the mirror and finds it of sufficient quality. While the surface men watch, she baldly goes through the prepatory motions of a mirror-seek. She suspects there would be a penalty in Rebma for doing this in front of the uninitiated.
She runs her thumb behind each ear and takes that oil and marks the left and right boundaries of the mirror. Likewise, she draws her thumb across her eyelids and touches twice upon the top and bottom boundary of the bevel glass.
She silently sends her mind through a mantra:
Mirror, mirror, be my seeking,
Heed my will, and let me glean.
In the silver of your hunting,
In the silence of your sheen.
Mirror, mirror, heed my yearning,
For things that I now plea.
Pass my mind through durant turning,
Toward the things I wish to see,
Things I wish to see,
Things I wish to see.
Celina leans forward after two minutes of concentration and inner rhyme to breathe upon the mirror surface. She notes the rush of energy set free. "Amber," she whispers, "the family wing hallway outside the second left corridor from the main stair."
Two men in light armor walk past the image. They're talking. "They're not in a hurry," says Random.
"And they're not holding weapons at ready," adds Soren.
Celina studies their faces. "All to the good." She breathes upon the layers of glass and silver. "Amber, the new wing long hallway on the ground floor." She feels the tingle run through her senses again and rises onto the balls of her feet.
The image comes clear, but nothing is happening there.
"Who?" say Random, his eyes focusing beyond the mirror.
Celina considers that if she lets go of the thread into the mirror that she will have to start over and expend equal energy to begin again. She doesn't let Random's Trump moment deter her, so she picks a third point of the castle to scry before being satisfied with closing things out. She breathes again against the silvery surface and says, "Amber, the male servants' quarters, the bathroom."
A rather good-looking fellow is enjoying a bath. Soren snickers. "No wonder you like that view."
Celina nods with an honest smile. "No one baths in an emergency. Things must be better now."
"OK, bring me through." Random raises his voice, unnecessarily. "I'll be back soon, gang, it's all over but the shouting there. Keep the fires lit for me." Before anyone can respond, the King disappears in a rainbow flash of light.
Soren sighs. "Well, he thought he might have to go. I should tell the Queen."
"Not such a chore, why the sigh? Nevermind, I'll talk to you later, friend Soren. Go do your duty and I promise to leave your couplings alone in the sound laboratory." Celina waves a hand down the mirror ending the probe, and then pointedly uses the edge of her sleeve to remove any egregious traces of her body oils from the surface.
He smiles, ruefully. "OK, ask me again later when there's more time and I'll tell you. Let's just say that the drama here is, like everything else, larger than life. Literally."
Paige thinks she and her children have slept for several hours when they all awaken. The sun has passed over the top of the mountain and the room is beginning to get quite dark. The twins stretch, unconscious of their nudity. "Mother, we need to eat, " Brooke announces.
Paige smiles at Brooke and nods. "I suppose we all do," she agrees. She straightens her skirts as best she can as she rises. Quickly collecting the discarded robes that they wore from the infirmary, she hands one to each of the children. "We're too close for me to attempt conjuring you clothes, so the robes will have to do until we find something more suitable."
Leif looks down at the robe, seeming confused and annoyed. Brooke shrugs.
"It's a new castle, so we'll have to find the kitchens. My guess is that they're in the castle, unlike Amber," she says as she looks for the expected light switch. [Assuming she finds such] She turns on the lights and walks back to the twins. She leans over and ties Leif's robe shut. "Can't have you shocking whatever staff Random's accumulated recently," she explains.
The twins look at each other and this time it's Leif that shrugs.
Before they leave the room she takes one knee in front of them. "I think it's best not to speak about what you two know about your grandmother and great-grandmother for the moment, OK?"
"Yes, Mother," Brooke says, as if Paige has said something utterly obvious, and Leif rolls his eyes slightly.
She then leads them out into the halls, trying to intuit where the kitchen should be, or asking a servant should she find one.
There are almost no servants around, but Paige eventually finds a guard and gets directions to the kitchen. The kitchen is a modern installation. It's more like a restaurant kitchen than what Paige would expect in a private home, but Castle Xanadu already has a complement of staff and a number of hungry family members.
The twins are very interested in exploring the castle and the kitchen, and they're fascinated by the technological devices in the kitchen, like the humming cold box in the walls and the thing with glass doors and the thing with all the knobs, and the basin with the levers ...
[Paige can prepare any reasonably simple foods in the kitchen after she gets her kids under control.]
Brita walks in as the kids are experimenting with the water flowing from the taps at the basin. She is instantly drawn to it, takes a drink from a cupped hand, and then splashes the stream expertly around Brooke at Leif. She smiles at them over Leif's rustling and Brooke's giggles although it doesn't quite seem to reach her eyes which still look a little tired. "Goddess Brooke, God Leif, it is good to see you up and about."
Brooke, evidently the more social of the pair, smiles when Brita addresses her, but Leif merely looks at her curiously.
"Cousin Paige," Brita turns to the woman, "it feels like a Long Time has passed and my stomach has been yelling at me for a while. What have you found to eat?"
Paige tosses open the refrigerator, the door hiding her reaction to the deity subscribed to the twins. Producing leftovers of both chicken and pork roasts she answers, "I was planning on cold cuts. Nice and simple, unless you want something else. Growing children need some meat on their bones.
"I could cook up an omlette easily enough," the redhead offers examining the other contents of the icebox.
She sets about carving the meat and has Leif find her some bread and Brooke, some cheese.
Leif manages to open enough drawers, cabinets, and boxes to achieve his objective while his mother speaks to the strange woman, but Brooke is unsuccessful. Paige suspects this is because she doesn't know that she should get the cheese from the icebox.
"Cold Cuts is fine. This is nice," Brita notes as she examines the cold box containing the food. "Xanadu has many Advantages for us all."
"Brooke, honey, you'll find the cheese in where Brita's looking. It's called an icebox or a refrigerator," she explained. "It keeps food cold so it doesn't spoil and rot."
"Yes, Mother," Brooke says, and goes off to investigate the refrigerator.
[Paige] sets about sanwiches for them all and makes a second for everyone before starting her first and, after a bite, setting it down. Paige makes her way to the fridge and finds juice and pours for herself and the kids and Brita if she likes.
Brita accepts the juice and nudges the plate with the barely touched sandwich back in front of Paige. Her head is inclined slightly towards the children and her look says //You need this for Them//
The twins begin to devour their sandwiches. They are definitely going to need instructions in table manners.
Paige shakes her head and makes a mental reminder, but seems too tired to address it now.
"I haven't seen much more of Xanadu than the infirmary and Celina's room, yet," Paige admits.
"I hope you're injuries are healing well?" she asks Fiona's daughter.
"My Brother is an Excellent Doctor." A sip. "I wish _I_ could have Done More," Brita adds quietly.
"We all do what we can, Brita," Paige assures her with a smile, her hand stopping before it reaches the dressings on Brita's arms.
"If you don't mind, I've a few questions about shared responsibilities," she mentions after a few bites. "I'm the mother of, as you noted, two young gods, but I know next to nothing of such."
"Certainly." Brita continues eating, adding more meat to her sandwich. "I will answer all I can."
"The twins have ties to Arcadia, ones that likely became their charges recently," Paige explains. "What might happen if they can't answer such a call or demand?" _Or if their Mommy doesn't let them go out and play..._
Brita sighs as she considers the question. "They are gods. They have Responsibilities to Support those in their Charge - but it is not a Geas. What they are Meant to do is also Not something that can be Dictated by another. It is something that is In them but also a Choice they much each make." She pauses. "What they do with their Responsibility is what will make them truly Gods. There has never been Evil in their Mien and that is where You come in, Cousin Mother Paige. You can Guide their Growth... however rapid. You can Teach and Support and Love. Others can try to Control their Path, but in the End - it is their Choice, as it was with God Daeon, but if you arm them well," Brita continues quickly, "they will have More Options in their Choice."
"So, their grandmother can't force them to take their father and aunt's place," Paige says loud enough for the children to hear. "It's their Choice.
"One I think they should discuss with their grandfather," she admits. "Do you know if Uncle Julian has returned or even had the news?"
"That I do not know. I assume that he would be told as quickly as possible. Cousins Robin and Jovian would also probably be notified.
Paige nods, her eyes admitting that she hadn't thought deeply on Adonis's family beyond the twins and Julian.
"And, yes," Brita turns to Leif and Brooke, "you cannot be forced into anything. Your Heritage is Uniquely Yours, granted you by your Parents. You should do all you can to Learn about your Amber Heritage - or at least the Heritage of Order - before you attempt to learn more of the Heritage of the Green. The Heritage of Order will help you Stand before the Green and make your own Decisions about what you wish to do with your Heritage."
Brooke listens attentively to Brita, but Leif is more interested in licking his fingers than in what Brita has to say.
"I suppose we'll have to start those lessons much sooner than I expected," Paige admits.
She offers the twins a questioning look. "Has your gr... anyone, spoke to you two of your Order heritage, yet?" Paige didn't seem to be trying to pass it off to someone else, just finding what preconceptions she would be overcoming.
Leif and Brooke look at each other. "No, Mother," Leif says. "Neither of us know anything about Order. What is it?"
Brita thinks on what her Uncle Loki used to try to tell her about the difference between the Freedom of Chaos and the Rigidity of GrandDa Odin's Rule as she waits to here what Cousin Paige has to say on the subject, wondering the tact their Green Relatives had taken to entice the Twins to Their Side.
Paige grins and then shakes her head. "No polite dinner chatter at this table, eh?" she ask rhetorically.
"Order, as I understand it," the redhead prefaces her own recitation.
"Once all was chaos. A son of chaos imposed his will upon the universe and with 'lightning, blood and lyre' inscribed the primal Image. It bound the hapless chaos to stable forms. That image is known as the Pattern. It defines the structure of reality around it. While not as flexible or mallable as chaos, it can be counted upon to retain its form and respond to certain rules in a predictable manner.
"Those that carry the blood of that line have the ability to influence those rules. The worlds that occur about that primal image are reflections of it, called Shadows. Amber, where you lived until today was one of those Shadows, as is your grandmother's Arcadia. As it's known, the Blood of Amber, allows those intiated to travel between such parallel worlds and effect the internal laws found there, such as conjuring items from thin air or effecting probable outcomes."
Brooke listens eagerly, and at the end, she asks Paige and Brita, "How do we become initiated?'
Leif says, "No, Brooke! We don't want to be initiated! Not if it means we're bound to single forms. Would you give this up?" And his form blurs in a way that hurts Paige and Brita to look at. When the painful blurring stops, there is a large grey wolf sitting in Leif's chair. Brooke leans over and puts her arms around it, murmuring something in one of the wolf's ears.
Brita is on her feet and has backed up from the table, head lowered and arms at the ready.
Brooke looks up at her, surprised.
Then she huffs a self-depreciating laugh and forceably relaxes. With a quick glance at Paige, she says "Sorry. Your Son brought Memories of my Uncle Loki and His Son back to Life before me."
Leif makes a doggish noise that Brita and Paige might think was a laugh.
She looks back at the twins. "How do you know an Initiation will Limit you? But it does not Matter. You are Too Young for the Pattern anyways. You should be able to Learn other Abilities from your Mother-Artist, however."
Paige's look of concern is quickly recovered and replaced by one of amazement. "And there are shapeshifters in the family that have been initiated into the Pattern. You've met one in fact, my cousin Merlin," Paige comments.
"He's not of the forest," Brooke says, half-dismissive, half-curious.
"I can instruct you in many things, I hope, if you trust me," she admits. "I have no desire to deny you any of your birthrights." She walks around the table and approaches Leif.
"Have you discovered any other abilities?" she asks as she scratches her son behind his ear.
Leif leans into Paige's hand and whuffs happily at the attention. Brooke looks calmly up at Paige. "We did not discover how to be wolves, Mother. It is part of who we are. We learned many things as we grew, but we barely knew how to walk before. It is no wonder that we know more now."
The wolf that is Paige's son barks in agreement.
Brita all but bites her tongue, but...
Paige nods in acceptance. "Then I think we need to get to know each other," she decides. "Can you two promise me that you won't run off to Arcadia until we've had that chance?"
[Paige]
"What more do you know now?" she asks. "Or, what would you know of me?"
Brita cocks her head to the side to hear what the twins might say. Her gaze is encouraging, as if she would not be averse to answering questions as well.
Leif says something to Brooke, a quick succession of little barks that steal her attention from Paige. "Why should we not go to Arcadia, Mother? It is our heritage, as much as Order."
"It's simple, Arcadia and your great-grandmother are dangerous," Paige offers with a level tone. "You explained to me what that danger was just earlier, so I doubt I need impress on you its seriousness.
"I'm not trying to forbid you from it, just ensuring that you arm yourselves with knowledge before treading someplace that I can't protect you." Someplace I don't want to you be, but don't think I can stop you from going.
She scratches further at Leif's ear, and turns to face Brita, her eyes hoping for some help, some support as the situation is obviously overwhelming her even as she tries to hide it from the children.
Brita has her arms crossed in front of her and a frown on her face. She addresses the twins in the sharp tones of a Ranger, "You would go to Arcadia so Ill Armed? You Experienced the Power that Your Green Great-Grandmother has over You. She Bent you Totally to Her Will. Even Your Father, with the Limited Knowledge He had of Order, was only Barely Able to Stand Against Her and Had to Destroy himself To best her in this One Battle. But with His Limited Knowledge, He could Not Win the War. If you want to keep Your Will, Your Independence, Your Choice, it would be best to Arm Yourselves Fully. Learn All you Can Here, Under the Protection of Your Artist Mother. Learn from His Chaotic Highness Merlin. Learn from God Knight Brennan. Learn from Your Great-Aunt Princesses and Great-Uncle Princes. Learn from the Kings of Order." Brita pauses and visible calms herself back down. "With that knowledge, you will be Able to Claim your Heritage on Both Sides."
Leif barks at Brita. Brooke looks at him, then back at Brita. "But if we are to be gods, we have to go to Arcadia. What if that means we die? Our father was a dying god. We have to keep what is ours from being claimed by our rivals." Leif barks again, clearly supporting his twin.
Paige steps back from Leif, sure that in this form he could sense her own fears while that close to him.
Brita nods at the barking. She actually understands a little Wolf since her Uncle Loki can shapeshift into one and his son was the Fenris Wolf; she gets the gist of what Wolf Leif says. "You want to Protect What is Yours by Right. Understandable. But you should take the Advice and Assistance of those More Powerful than You to Accomplish that Goal. I Know that Warden Julian - Your GrandFather - will not Stand Still at this Time." Brita glances at Paige. "You should Present your Case to him and King Random. Seek their Assistance and Guidance and Perhaps your Goal will be within Your Reach."
Paige nods. "I don't know if Uncle Julian even knows yet," she admits. "Has anyone heard from Martin in Amber? Father claimed that he was in charge back there."
"At this point, I am sure Uncle Julian Knows. We should go find Others who may Know More. We can try the Infirmary, as I know my Way there, and see if Uncle Gerard is around." With that Brita grabs her half eaten sandwich and prepares to depart.
"Are you two done for the moment?" their mother asks the twins. "Although, I think it would be better if you found a man-shape Leif. We can also work on finding you two some clothing.
Brooke wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. "Yes, Mother. I am finished eating." The sandwiches are gone; only crumbs remain on the plate.
Leif barks and turns back into man-shape, his form blurring and flowing as he stops being a wolf and starts being a boy again. "Why do we need clothes?" he asks Paige and Brita. "I am just as comfortable without here."
Brita raises an eyebrow and lets their mother handle that question. She waits for the exodus and will lead the way back to the infirmary as required.
"In polite society, at least in many, including Amber and Xanadu," Paige begins, "Clothes are as much for other people's comfort as your own, son.
"They are used to display rank and privlege the way a predators' markings show him as a danger. They can serve practical purposes also, as man forms haven't the fur and natural ptotections that many of your other forms possess."
"It is not winter here," Brooke observes. "We do not need winter fur."
"They are also good for storing things you want to take with you," Brita notes as she stuffs an orange in a pocket," just ask Master Reid."
"I want clothing with claws and teeth!" Leif says. "I will put claws and teeth in my clothing!"
The children get up and follow Brita to the infirmary.
Brita does not even bat an eye at the suggestion. "Be careful whose teeth and claws adorn your clothes," she notes to Leif. "My Uncle Loki, when he was young, once killed an otter and sported its Skin to a party in the home of Wizard Hreidmar only to find out that the Otter was actually Wizard Hreidmar's Shape-changing Son Otr. He wasn't Welcome there Ever Again."
They round the corner and enter the Infirmary.
They see Breeze, asleep on a gurney, and hear Hannah and Gerard talking in a side room. Hannah has her back to the door, and appears to be giving Gerard a once-over. Gerard sees them, and beckons them in. "Brita, come in and join us."
Last modified: 22 August 2005