Status: active.
Shattered Silence
Bartholomew
I quickly glance towards Kalix, hopping she’s still in the courtyard. I count my lucky stars as I see her stumble to a stop. Looks like she’s interested in who my father is. Too bad she’s the only one interested. Right about now I would give my thumbs to be outside of this warded encampment.
My attention went back to Jeremiah as he turns to Kalix. “Thira is waiting for you. I would hurry up she’s not known to be a patient woman!” He shouts waving Kalix on. I can tell by her reluctance that she would rather suffer Thira’s wrath than miss out. Jeremiah gestures with his head for her get going. Kalix sighs and disappears into the keep.
Jeremiah turns back to me a wide smile covers his face and his wings expand and contract. “I wish this could’ve happened under better circumstance but it is what it is.” Jeremiah extends one wing and gesture me to move. “Now your father and his tribe big supports of what we do, but they like to be discrete. They have a lot of pull with the Ordinary’s. We found it better that the less people who knew about them the better.”
I listen as he glides me further into the garden, where the shadows overpower the light. I shy away from his nearness, earning chuckle. “If I was going to bite I would’ve already.” I look back at his staying silent. My pride could take me opening my mouth and saying something I would regret. I watch his wings warily, as they sometimes come close to brushing up against me.
All I want to do is sit in silent and contemplate everything that has happened. Anything that could go wrong has. I never meant to be discovered by Coen and his bunch of heathens. Unfortunately the one thing Deimos managed to beat into my head was sole survival. Yes there is a part of me hoping to get back into Mathias good graces, but the reality is I’m not Ordinary anymore. I decided to band with the wrong side and now I’m trapped.
Suddenly Jeremiah stops and I run into his wings. I just manage to hold back the overwhelming panic that some rebel Other is touching me. I resist the urge to tear his wings to shreds. “Rune your father.” I tense as the surrounding shadows seep together. Slowly they reveal a tall lean man. I gasp as I recognize him. Black as night hair, hard steel eyes, high cheek bones and a sharp nose, it was Lord Alder of Aruric. However, thick as shoulder horns curve over his head and fall over his shoulders and taper off at his knees. Each horn is laced with silver etchings.
“Bartholomew, my half-brother.” Shock courses through my body as Jeremiah’s words sink in.
“What?!” It’s not a question or a statement; it’s more of an emotion that I have to voice. I stumble away from Jeremiah and Bartholomew. I thought my world was already turned upside down now it just lay in ruins.
“She looks like you,” Jeremiah declares looking between Bartholomew and I. I shake my head. I don’t know what I had in mind when I let Jeremiah lead me to my father, but now I wish I could just run and never looked back. It’s one thing, assuming that I’m half-daemon, it’s another thing to seethe proof. Theory was so much better than what stands in front of me.
“No she looks like her mother.” A light smile graces Bartholomew’s lips as his eyes cloud with nostalgia.
“This can’t be possible, my father is just a word not an Others.” My eyes widen as a stray thought enters my mind. “My mother doesn’t sleep with others.”
Bartholomew rolls his eyes. “No she just sleeps with anything else. Tell me Rune,” a whimsical look crosses his face, “your mother chose a lovely name. Anyways, tell me is it really that awful knowing I’m your father?” I instantly nod my head voguishly.
Identical frowns spilt Jeremiah and Bartholomew faces. I take another step back looking for an exit. It was all too much. They exchange glances and Bartholomew looks at me with a worried expression. “Rune, I know this may be much for you to comprehend or even get used to, but the hard truth is I’m your father. You’re half-daemon and I have a responsibility and the pleasure to help yo-”
“Responsibility?! You got mother pregnant knowing your child was going to be different and left. And you expect me to just accept your word and just live happily ever after! I grew up hating your kind and I still do.” Jeremiah opens his mouth. I already know what he going to say. “No I don’t support or even like what Ordinary’s do, after hearing what has happened and the suffering that reigns, Mathias no longer is my hero. But don’t except me to change on a dime!”
I heave in breath after breath as anger and adrenaline course through me. They look at me in disbelief. I know they think everything I said is a load of bull, but let them. I am what I am. And right now I feel confused and lost. Before they can even say anther word I launch past them heading blindly for the keep. As soon as I clear the brush I notice a crowd of Others watching me. They all look away trying to seem like they weren’t eavesdropping.
I want to shout and scream at them, but I can’t. I know they want to know about me. Know if I will somehow rat them out to Mathias or worst them the Ordinary’s here. I scoff as I realize how much Others and Ordinary’s different yet similar in many aspects.
The next week passes in a blur. Leaving the encampment alone or with an escort is out of the question. At every turn I tried to avoid Bartholomew, I end up getting stuck with him. I meet a few members of his tribe and realized they are a part of his court. Some were welcoming but others not so much take Ragnar.
He’s Bartholomew’s heir, by title only. I know Ragnar feels threatened by me. The truth is he has nothing to worry about. I don’t want any title or responsibility like that. It would be unfair and just plain cruel for me as well as the tribe.
That by far was the most exciting thing to happen. I mean Jeremiah sent many groups out for a mission here or a mission there, but mostly everything was quite especially for me. When I wasn’t eating with Kalix everyone seemed leery of me and avoided me. At first I like it but I was starting to feel utterly lonely.
Do you know how hard it is to get you alone. A voice of frustration enters my mind. I stop walking and look around. It’s the middle of the day and everybody is out doing something. Hallway I stand is void of any shadows and confusion bubbles up inside me.
“Deimos? Where are you?” I look all around yet the hallway holds not shadows.
Here. I turn around and come face to muzzle with Deimos and barely manage to hold back a yelp of surprise. A chuckle skips through my mind.
“Ha ha very funny. Where did you even come from? And what up with you and hallways?” I tease as I run my hand over his muzzle. He butts his head against my hand and closes his eyes. I may feel discomfort around Others, but for some reason Deimos make me feel safe to where I can let down my guard.
Bartholomew and the rest of his tribe may need shadows to move about, but you’re only half. This is one thing he can’t teach. You and I, we can shift through space. I continue to pet him in comfortable silence as something occurs to me.
“What did you mean it was hard to get me alone.” His shocking cobalt eyes open. Then scan the hallway and land back on me.
Bartholomew has been keeping tabs on you. How do you think he always corners you? You need more training. I nod in agreement. I sooner I understand what I could do the sooner I can get out of the encampment. Lately the tabs on you have been getting less and less. I will be around when I find you are alone we will train. He butts his head against my face then lips my cheek and vanishes.
I spin around and get ready to call his name when I see a figure pass the hallway and double back. As It get closers I make some features…it’s Tristan. I panic and turn around and briskly walk down the hallway and turn.
“Rune! Wait!” I hesitate just for a second. I liked talking to Tristan when we were with the Knights, but now knowing who he is and who he is related to…I feel like as ass. I chance one last look over my shoulder and turn another corner, knowing I lost Tristan. That is until I run into something solid.
“Oh sorr-” I deflate as I look up into Tristian’s face. He has a smug smile. “High and mighty Elf.” His smile only gets broader.
“Rune do you need to go see Thira? You didn’t hear me calling, you may be going deaf.” He frowns in worry yet his eyes hold amusement. He leans against the doorway intentional blocking my exit. But under his swagger I can see him grimace as pain from the Cuff and Coen echo throughout his body.
“No, but maybe you do.” I say with all seriousness and try to move past him but he blocks me again.
“For a month you talked my ear off and now you avoid me at every turn. I get this is hard but seriously, you know me, I know you.” He steps close puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what going on.” I stand there for a few seconds and relish the feel of his hand. He too is just like Deimos. His touch feels like home and safety, which is odd considering.
“I don’t like feeling trapped.” It’s the truth and I know it hit home with Tristan. It isn’t fair for me to say that considering how long he’s been Cufffed. I pull away feeling even worse than before.
“Maybe I can remedy that.” I look up and he smiles.
My attention went back to Jeremiah as he turns to Kalix. “Thira is waiting for you. I would hurry up she’s not known to be a patient woman!” He shouts waving Kalix on. I can tell by her reluctance that she would rather suffer Thira’s wrath than miss out. Jeremiah gestures with his head for her get going. Kalix sighs and disappears into the keep.
Jeremiah turns back to me a wide smile covers his face and his wings expand and contract. “I wish this could’ve happened under better circumstance but it is what it is.” Jeremiah extends one wing and gesture me to move. “Now your father and his tribe big supports of what we do, but they like to be discrete. They have a lot of pull with the Ordinary’s. We found it better that the less people who knew about them the better.”
I listen as he glides me further into the garden, where the shadows overpower the light. I shy away from his nearness, earning chuckle. “If I was going to bite I would’ve already.” I look back at his staying silent. My pride could take me opening my mouth and saying something I would regret. I watch his wings warily, as they sometimes come close to brushing up against me.
All I want to do is sit in silent and contemplate everything that has happened. Anything that could go wrong has. I never meant to be discovered by Coen and his bunch of heathens. Unfortunately the one thing Deimos managed to beat into my head was sole survival. Yes there is a part of me hoping to get back into Mathias good graces, but the reality is I’m not Ordinary anymore. I decided to band with the wrong side and now I’m trapped.
Suddenly Jeremiah stops and I run into his wings. I just manage to hold back the overwhelming panic that some rebel Other is touching me. I resist the urge to tear his wings to shreds. “Rune your father.” I tense as the surrounding shadows seep together. Slowly they reveal a tall lean man. I gasp as I recognize him. Black as night hair, hard steel eyes, high cheek bones and a sharp nose, it was Lord Alder of Aruric. However, thick as shoulder horns curve over his head and fall over his shoulders and taper off at his knees. Each horn is laced with silver etchings.
“Bartholomew, my half-brother.” Shock courses through my body as Jeremiah’s words sink in.
“What?!” It’s not a question or a statement; it’s more of an emotion that I have to voice. I stumble away from Jeremiah and Bartholomew. I thought my world was already turned upside down now it just lay in ruins.
“She looks like you,” Jeremiah declares looking between Bartholomew and I. I shake my head. I don’t know what I had in mind when I let Jeremiah lead me to my father, but now I wish I could just run and never looked back. It’s one thing, assuming that I’m half-daemon, it’s another thing to seethe proof. Theory was so much better than what stands in front of me.
“No she looks like her mother.” A light smile graces Bartholomew’s lips as his eyes cloud with nostalgia.
“This can’t be possible, my father is just a word not an Others.” My eyes widen as a stray thought enters my mind. “My mother doesn’t sleep with others.”
Bartholomew rolls his eyes. “No she just sleeps with anything else. Tell me Rune,” a whimsical look crosses his face, “your mother chose a lovely name. Anyways, tell me is it really that awful knowing I’m your father?” I instantly nod my head voguishly.
Identical frowns spilt Jeremiah and Bartholomew faces. I take another step back looking for an exit. It was all too much. They exchange glances and Bartholomew looks at me with a worried expression. “Rune, I know this may be much for you to comprehend or even get used to, but the hard truth is I’m your father. You’re half-daemon and I have a responsibility and the pleasure to help yo-”
“Responsibility?! You got mother pregnant knowing your child was going to be different and left. And you expect me to just accept your word and just live happily ever after! I grew up hating your kind and I still do.” Jeremiah opens his mouth. I already know what he going to say. “No I don’t support or even like what Ordinary’s do, after hearing what has happened and the suffering that reigns, Mathias no longer is my hero. But don’t except me to change on a dime!”
I heave in breath after breath as anger and adrenaline course through me. They look at me in disbelief. I know they think everything I said is a load of bull, but let them. I am what I am. And right now I feel confused and lost. Before they can even say anther word I launch past them heading blindly for the keep. As soon as I clear the brush I notice a crowd of Others watching me. They all look away trying to seem like they weren’t eavesdropping.
I want to shout and scream at them, but I can’t. I know they want to know about me. Know if I will somehow rat them out to Mathias or worst them the Ordinary’s here. I scoff as I realize how much Others and Ordinary’s different yet similar in many aspects.
The next week passes in a blur. Leaving the encampment alone or with an escort is out of the question. At every turn I tried to avoid Bartholomew, I end up getting stuck with him. I meet a few members of his tribe and realized they are a part of his court. Some were welcoming but others not so much take Ragnar.
He’s Bartholomew’s heir, by title only. I know Ragnar feels threatened by me. The truth is he has nothing to worry about. I don’t want any title or responsibility like that. It would be unfair and just plain cruel for me as well as the tribe.
That by far was the most exciting thing to happen. I mean Jeremiah sent many groups out for a mission here or a mission there, but mostly everything was quite especially for me. When I wasn’t eating with Kalix everyone seemed leery of me and avoided me. At first I like it but I was starting to feel utterly lonely.
Do you know how hard it is to get you alone. A voice of frustration enters my mind. I stop walking and look around. It’s the middle of the day and everybody is out doing something. Hallway I stand is void of any shadows and confusion bubbles up inside me.
“Deimos? Where are you?” I look all around yet the hallway holds not shadows.
Here. I turn around and come face to muzzle with Deimos and barely manage to hold back a yelp of surprise. A chuckle skips through my mind.
“Ha ha very funny. Where did you even come from? And what up with you and hallways?” I tease as I run my hand over his muzzle. He butts his head against my hand and closes his eyes. I may feel discomfort around Others, but for some reason Deimos make me feel safe to where I can let down my guard.
Bartholomew and the rest of his tribe may need shadows to move about, but you’re only half. This is one thing he can’t teach. You and I, we can shift through space. I continue to pet him in comfortable silence as something occurs to me.
“What did you mean it was hard to get me alone.” His shocking cobalt eyes open. Then scan the hallway and land back on me.
Bartholomew has been keeping tabs on you. How do you think he always corners you? You need more training. I nod in agreement. I sooner I understand what I could do the sooner I can get out of the encampment. Lately the tabs on you have been getting less and less. I will be around when I find you are alone we will train. He butts his head against my face then lips my cheek and vanishes.
I spin around and get ready to call his name when I see a figure pass the hallway and double back. As It get closers I make some features…it’s Tristan. I panic and turn around and briskly walk down the hallway and turn.
“Rune! Wait!” I hesitate just for a second. I liked talking to Tristan when we were with the Knights, but now knowing who he is and who he is related to…I feel like as ass. I chance one last look over my shoulder and turn another corner, knowing I lost Tristan. That is until I run into something solid.
“Oh sorr-” I deflate as I look up into Tristian’s face. He has a smug smile. “High and mighty Elf.” His smile only gets broader.
“Rune do you need to go see Thira? You didn’t hear me calling, you may be going deaf.” He frowns in worry yet his eyes hold amusement. He leans against the doorway intentional blocking my exit. But under his swagger I can see him grimace as pain from the Cuff and Coen echo throughout his body.
“No, but maybe you do.” I say with all seriousness and try to move past him but he blocks me again.
“For a month you talked my ear off and now you avoid me at every turn. I get this is hard but seriously, you know me, I know you.” He steps close puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what going on.” I stand there for a few seconds and relish the feel of his hand. He too is just like Deimos. His touch feels like home and safety, which is odd considering.
“I don’t like feeling trapped.” It’s the truth and I know it hit home with Tristan. It isn’t fair for me to say that considering how long he’s been Cufffed. I pull away feeling even worse than before.
“Maybe I can remedy that.” I look up and he smiles.