A Time for Change
July 16 (17 Apr 2003) Play-acting gives way to real life as the results of the challenge are announced. |
Challenge Hall of Caer Bannuac
An ancient hall built of roughly-hewn granite blocks choked by twisting vines and green moss, so vast that the far ends of the halls which adjoin this one vanish into shadow. At the center stands a raised dais and pedestal, bearing the Book of Rules, while a cross-eyed Siamese named Bragwaine curls at its base. To the left of the pedestal are the Champions for Lord Eoin, a giant steely-hided dragon sits, wings folded, beside a worried-looking Sir Lefallon. On the right side rest their opposite numbers: Princess Angel and Lady Redmane, as well as the Sorceress Nymuae. The Challenger and the Challenged themselves have not yet completed their Tests.
From a passage on the left side, a handsome, dark-haired man emerges, moving slowly. Lord Eoin runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. His skin is ashen, and his eyes hold no cruelty now; instead, they are haunted, full of sorrow. He offers a nod to his champions, then glances to their hostess. "Lady Bragwaine." His voice is hoarse and strained, but gentle. "Might I have aught to drink?" After asking the question, he drops to sit, cross-legged, on the floor before his champions. His gaze strays to the young blond girl, a curious hint of hope in his eyes, then he looks away.
Sir Lefallon grins wryly. "I've been a cupbearer once today, I may as well do it again. Just a moment, Lord Eoin, and I'll have wine for you," he says as he breaks into a jog toward a shadowy arch from wherein he and Lady Redmane emerged not long ago. True to his word, it is soon that he returns with a goblet of red wine, which the fading light tints blood-dark.
But when Sir Lefallon comes back, it appears that Lord Eoin has a choice of drinks, for a cup of ... lemonade? ... has appeared mysteriously close to his hand, perched on the flat head of one of the crouching stone gargoyles flanking the central pedestal. "Meow," says Bragwaine, as she looks away - cross-eyed - as innocently as a cat ever can.
Lord Eoin, thoroughly parched, takes the cup of lemonade as soon as he spies it, and drains it in one long draught. "Ah. Thank you, Lady Bragwaine." He sets the cup down, in time to accept the wine from Lefallon when it is offered. "And you, sir knight." He offers a small smile, and sips slowly at the wine.
From the shadows of one of the hallways, Thomas strides back into the room. He runs his hand through his hair, pulling it back and out of the way for the time being. He nods to everyone, seeming in good spirits and well. "Glad to see all are well," he says.
"So, how did your challenges go?" Redmane whispers to her companions, hoping Thomas' high spirits are a good omen.
"I rather enjoyed the challenge," Thomas replies and leans against one of the stone structures. "Difficult, but not impossible."
The dark-haired adult seated on the floor shifts, stretching his legs before him and holding the goblet of wine in one hand, while bracing himself with the other. He spares a glance for the returning Lord Explorer, and a smile flashes, briefly, over his lips.
The younger knight looks puzzled at the appearance of the other cup, glancing toward Bragwaine who doesn't look capable of handling cups, but decides that he doesn't really need to know. He half-stands, hands on his knees, and takes the opportunity to catch his breath.
Thomas nods with a smile to Lord Eoin. "I hope none of you have waited long?" he asks.
"I have not," Lord Eoin answers. He looks to the cross-eyed Siamese. "Will your sorcerer return with the results soon, my lady?"
Angel gives Thomas a cheery wave as she seems him arrive. "Hi Tommy!" she calls to him. As the man draws closer she drops in to a whisper like Redmane and takes a step forward to meet her friends in a circle. "I had to think really hard about the questions. But I think I did pretty well. I'm not very good at essay questions," she answers.
"Well, we just have to hope we all did well enough," Redmane says, and glances across the hall at the opposition. "Simon looks pretty worn out, and so did Eoin."
Lord Eoin's eyes flick to Angel at her answer. He smiles, again, with what might be genuine pleasure, but that expression, too, fades quickly.
"Oh," continues the princess in whisper to her friends as she glances behind her, "I'm going to go over and talk to Lord Eoin okay? I said I would, and I meant it."
Thomas shrugs and nods. "I handled eight of the nine puzzles. The last I couldn't see the solution to, and I was growing weary," Thomas says, then nods to Angel. "Feel free. I think we're all safe enough right now."
From behind the pedestal, a figure emerges from the shadows - Sorcerer Pelles steps up onto the dais. With a muffled "Meowph!" the Siamese cat leaps through the shadows, and ends up on the stage with a rolled scroll in her mouth. The sorcerer takes it and unrolls it - while the cat grooms her fur. The sorcerer clears his throat, then announces, "Now, for the winners in the three tests...."
"Watch out for the dragon," Redmane warns Angel in a quiet voice. "You know how they can be around princesses."
Thomas looks to Pelles, his expression neutral.
Redmane stands at attention to hear the results.
The princess gives her friends a curtsey as she steps backwards. "Oh Lord Monitor wasn't like that," she replies with a smile to Redmane before she turns to walk over towards Lord Eoin. She offers him a smile too.
The massive steel dragon's eyes burn with a red-tinged golden light as he lays crouched, conveying the semblance of restlessness without moving so much as a single inch. Iron eyelids half-shutter his eyes as he regards Princess angel's approach.
Nymuae stands, her arms folded across her chest, a little apart from either of the group of Challenged or Challengers. Her position almost seems to mirror Pelles's, but on the opposite end of the hall.
The lord of Year's End gives Alice a nod, but his attention is on Pelles.
"In the challenge of the Cupbearer of the Titans," Sorcerer Pelles announces, as he holds the scroll up high and reads from it, "Knight Redmane completed the test in the least amount of time, and, therefore, is the victor, despite a noble effort by Sir Lefallon. The first test goes to the Challenger."
Redmane lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
At this announcement, Lord Eoin's chin lowers. He glances to Sir Lefallon, his expression neutral, neither condemning nor exonerating. "Did you do your best?" Though the question is clearly directed to Lefallon, Eoin looks to Pelles, too, as he speaks.
Tom elbows Redmane, smirks, then goes back to watching Pelles.
Sir Lefallon exhales likewise, standing up. At Lord Eoin's words, he gulps. "I did, milord."
Lord Eoin closes his eyes at Lefallon's response, and gives a slight shrug. "Then the fault lies in me, not in you, for I had my choice of Champions."
From where she stops a near the lord the little blonde girl gives a round of applause. She claps the fingers of one hand against the palm of the other. "Yay, Lady Redmane." And then she twists to clap in Simon's direction. "And you too Simon."
Sir Lefallon grins wryly over at Lady Redmane. "Guess you didn't need a horse, huh?"
Sorcerer Pelles nods, then raises his scroll again, focusing his attention on it once more. "In the challenge of the Shrine of the Pegasus," Sorcerer Pelles announces, "Lord Eoin met the explicit requirements of the test, and impressed upon the judge the force of his creativity, and the strength of his spirit. Despite an enthusiastic contribution by Princess Angel, Lord Eoin is the victor, and that test goes to the Challenged."
Redmane smirks back at Sir Lefallon.
Ahearn steps forward to nose affectionately at Redmane hair, whuffling.
The red-haired knight reaches back to pat Ahearn's cheek, glad for the comfort of his presence as she hears the results of the second challenge.
Surprisingly, the news of his victory does not seem to please the Lord of Year's End. Instead, his shoulders slump. His gaze drops to the floor of the hall, the goblet lolling, unattended, in his fingers.
Angel gives a little shrug at this news. Untroubled she applauds Lord Eoin's performance.
"In the challenge of the Tome of the Hydra," Sorcerer Pelles announces, "the judge required some lengthy deliberation to come to its conclusion, as the results were very close."
"Well done, Lord Eoin. I salute you," Thomas says calmly with a nod. He shifts his stance some and returns his attention to the wizard. "And now, the moment of truth," Thomas says quietly.
At the opposite end of the hall, Nymuae clenches her hands into fists at her sides, her face paling.
Redmane pauses in her patting of Ahearn, and holds her breath once more.
"The Hydra was especially impressed with Monitor's ability to find deeper levels of pattern in the answers he gave to the riddles presented in the Tome," Sorcerer Pelles says. "It was, as the hydra suggested, evidence of 'thinking outside of the box'."
Eoin smiles at this, glancing to the steel-hided dragon beside him. But the smile does not reach his eyes; he remains concerned.
Monitor shifts its stance, neck curving in a subtle acknowledgment of the compliment paid. And yet... The result is not yet certain.
"However, based upon the agreed-upon method of scoring the answers, Lord Explorer Thomas, by virtue of quantity of riddles answered in satisfactory fashion, won the contest by a third of a point. Therefore," Sorcerer Pelles says, "the test goes to the Challenger."
"Yes," Redmane says quietly, and smiles at Thomas. "Good job, Thomas."
A shudder goes through Eoin's frame. "Then this is how it will be," he says, quietly. "Go now, old friend. Return to your home and your horde, and may you have joy of them." He addresses Monitor simply, without rancor.
Thomas nods at this, then shrugs. "I guess I win by sheer effort, not style. I'll take it," he says with a grin.
The dragon hisses, venting steam at the disappointment of the results. It flicks its tail, and then turns an ironic eye towards Lord Eoin, before with the suddenness of a spring unwinding, leaping toward the vault of the ceiling. Monitor stretches out its great wings to catch the wind, swoops through the pillars, and is soon lost in the distance and shadows of the challenge hall.
"I was worried when you were paired off against Monitor," Redmane confides to Thomas.
"Oh, I'd never have guessed," Thomas says with a smirk. "Greater the stakes, the more interesting it was, I must admit. What a rush."
"So it is, that two out of three tests have been passed by the Challenger and his Champions. The results are clear. The Challenger has the right to enter his change into the Book of Rules," Sorcerer Pelles announces. The pedestal slowly rotates around, so that the book, resting on an angled surface, faces the front - open and ready.
After finishing her third round of applause Alice reaches over and pats Lord Eoin's arm. "It won't be so bad," she assures him quietly. "I hope you benefit as much from what we're doing as we do. And if you feel bad, well, just remember that I didn't do very well either."
As Pelles turns the pedestal around, Lord Eoin shakes himself out of his stupor. He stands so quickly he staggers. "No. Wait. Please."
Tensing, Redmane turns her attention on Lord Eoin.
Bragwaine stops grooming herself, and looks curiously at Lord Eoin as well, with crossed blue eyes.
Thomas produces the pen from his side pouch. "I suppose in honor of John, I should..." Thomas starts to say, then turns to look at Lord Eoin.
Startled the little girl removes her hand from Lord Eoin's arm and watches him curiously.
Nymuae strides forward, closing the gap between herself and the others. Her eyes are on the Year's End, wary. Ahearn lifts his head to regard the defeated man.
Gathering in breath, Lord Eoin continues. "Whether you know it or not, whether you believe it or not, you are about to kill me, to eradicate who I am as surely as Tatterdemalion has been eradicated. Perhaps you will never notice the difference. But I will. Or, I would, if there were to be any 'me' left to notice." A little laugh. "You take my meaning. You have won; I cannot stop you. I ... I do not think I even want to. But let a condemned man say his last words. Now that it comes to the point, I find I want some say in the manner of my execution, after all."
"Are you sure that's what will happen?" Redmane asks, sounding surprised by the revelation.
Sir Lefallon, about to walk to Thomas's side, turns toward Lord Eoin instead, hand half-reached out to help steady him. His face has gone from worry to surprise, to worry again and relief, and now it is back to surprise.
"I know. Changing anything affects the world. Even Simon knows my stance on that, and my desires to not harm others this way," Thomas says slowly and quietly. "But, if we don't change it, it will continue. You will continue -- in a state of pain. But please, tell us what you will. We will remember your words, even if others do not."
Angel turns to glance between her friends and nod. "I don't mind. I'm not sure I understand, but, if Tommy thinks it's okay then I do too," she says.
"Yes," the Year's End answers Agatha, flatly. "Your Rule changes my nature. Who I am. From villain to victim. An improvement, I realize, to your eyes. But I am not a victim. I would rather die as what I am than be remade into something I never was -- to have all that I have done, done by some stranger. To never have been." He inhales. "I have no hope of a reprieve. But I have recently come to recognized another ... solution, for your problems." His eyes fall to Bragwaine, smiling a little. "If you will hear my words, than hear this. I have a story to tell."
Thomas expression eases slowly. "Lord Eoin, I ..." Thomassays slowly, expression sad. "I had truly thought we couldfind a way to save you; to give you a future with the rule we crafted. But, in my heart, I like your ending to the tale moreso. I am willing, and if we are permitted, to revise our change to allow for this to be your fate. Pelles, are we allowed to do so?"
Sorcerer Pelles looks to Lord Thomas, but he glances to the others, as if waiting a moment before he gives his answer.
"Would... would anything really need to be changed at all?" Redmane asks. "If this is his true Triumph, then... then what would need changing?"
"We simply make sure the last rule states this is his triumph," Thomas replies to Redmane. "No ambiguity, no guessing."
Sorcerer Pelles nods. "The challenges you have taken were for this rule change that you have proposed. It is up to you, now that you have prevailed, whether you shall make the change as proposed. But if you have another in mind, you may propose it; if Lord Eoin does not object - for I strongly suspect that neither Lord Bram nor Lady Angelique shall return to protest - then you would certainly be able to make what changes you deem suitable. So long as there is no veto, then there is no need for further tests."
Lord Eoin releases a held breath, bowing his head to Thomas. At Pelles' statement, he smiles slightly. "I promise, I shall not object to this alteration."
"Say that Lady Ariel will be restored, and Lord Eoin forgiven then, in the last rule," Redmane suggests.
"But, can I ask a favor of you, Lord Eoin? Would you be willing to perhaps have, as Lord Eoin's final effort for the world, to free it from the Rule of a Year? One final gift to try and make amends? No more forced ends for people," Thomas asks, the tone of his voice gentle.
"Write it all down." Nymuae steps closer still. "Leave nothing to chance. I would not risk going through this again. Say that it happens in this Year. Now. As he told it, so let it be."
Sir Lefallon reaches up to wipe a tear from one eye, at the end of the story. "Milord... Lord Eoin... I can't find fault with your ending. Save only that I had hoped that you would live. Maybe even..." He shakes his head. "If Tom-- Lord Explorer Thomas approves, I'll go along with what he says."
Lord Eoin turns to the explorer. "When I am gone, Thomas, it will be up to you and your friends to do as you choose with the Rules. I have lost the Challenge, and we all know I will not see another, no matter how your amended Rule is written or chosen. Whatever you choose to change from here on out -- I can not, and will not, stop you."
"Nothing in it says that Lord Eoin has to die, you know. He leaves the world forever, much like his brother and sister have. They deserve rest and peace. I think it would be too hard for him to remain in Mirari. To have a constant reminder of his life there," Thomas says, then looks to Lord Eoin. "Am I correct in that, Lord Eoin?"
The Year's End only nods.
As the others talked of what to do the little princess for once seemed without words. She dabs at her eyes with her hands. A resounding honk of her blowing her nose in to a handkerchief reminds those present that she's still here. Then she walks over to Lord Eoin and gives him a hug with all the strength she has left in her and holds on tight.
"Maybe, if Lord Eoin joins his siblings and the past kings in Historie, he could be the last person to pass that way," Redmane suggests. "If he must go out, he should go out as they have."
Eoin looks startled by Angel's action, but after a moment, he bends to pat her back, gently, saying nothing.
Bragwaine sniffs, twitching her nose. "It's a really sad story," she meows, "but there's one thing I have to note, if you're going to write it into a rule. If you are afraid of writing a rule that makes someone be someone else ... maybe you should leave out the part about Ariel forgiving Lord Eoin. Maybe she needs to do that herself - if she chooses. I know that doesn't guarantee you a happy ending ... but it would be a lot more real that way, don't you think?"
Still looking shaken, Lord Eoin turns to Bragwaine, and nods. "You have the right of it, my lady. I would not now dictate the course for ... anyone. Except myself."
"We wouldn't need to change the last Rule at all then," Redmane says to Bragwaine.
Thomas nods to Redmane. "I think that would work," he says. "Can we summon Lady Ariel here? Before we set Eoin into the pages of History, I ... I'd like to try and offer some closure. And as for the rule, I would still like it to at least say his Triumph was bringing her back. Make that explicit."
"B-but," asks Angel muffledly as she turns her head enough to talk, " ... the Rule h-hasn't changed yet s-so w-what was written hasn't happened? L-lady Ariel may not be awake y-yet."
Tom smiles. "We could write in his Triumph will be her resurrection. He would not change at just that modification. We could then try to make his story, reality. We could awaken her," he says.
"If we all believe that the story has happened, that might be enough," Redmane notes.
Nymuae says, "It has not happened yet. We must change the Rules so that it will happen -- or set down that it has. I suggest we do not leave it ambiguous, or to chance. Perhaps the 52nd rule could be amended to read, "The Year's End shall never be defeated, and shall always return, until in the Endless Winter of the 52nd Year, Lady Ariel is returned to Life. Then shall the Year's End pass into Historie to join his brother and sister, having undone at last the first of his evils."
"As for the rest, we can believe and make it what has happened," Thomas says with a nod. "I'm willing to commit that change. If others object, do so now."
Sir Lefallon grins halfway through searching a pack, leaving off. "I was just going to look for some paper so we could get it down, but that sounds perfect, Lady Nymuae!"
"It sounds like it will work," Redmane agrees. "We'll still have to hope that Arial forgives, though, but at least it's a choice for her."
The princess nods. This having the side effect of rubbing some of her tears off on the lord's cloak. "O-okay. I'll help any w-way I can. I like this change t-too," she agrees. Then she sniffles and folds her hanky in a hand in case she needs it again.
Lord Eoin drops to one knee to hug Angel, gently. "Don't be sad, little one. Think how glad Lord Melchizedek will be to have his wife back." He looks to Thomas, and the others. "May I write in the change?"
"All right. Then we shall commit that as the change to thelast rule," Thomas says, then he looks to Lord Eoin. He looks at the man for a short time, then says, "I will allow it, on one condition."
Angel tilts her head at the lord's words, then she smiles a little. "I'm s-sorry," the little girl apologizes. "It's so sad. But it's happy too, I know."
"His handwriting is pretty close to John Harcourt's," Redmane puts in, giving her own support for Eoin writing in the change.
Sir Lefallon blinks. "Why exactly do you want to do the writing, Lord Eoin?" he wonders.
Nymuae looks more suspicious than the others.. "Tell me truly, Lord of Year's End: are you still trying to trick us? I know that if you write in a Rule that changes things otherwise, none of us have the power to make it untrue, for we are not the founders."
Eoin blots Angel's cheeks with the corner of his cloak, and glances to Sir Lefallon, and Nymuae. He smiles. "No, no tricks. It's that you all have terrible handwriting and I hate to see you muck up a fine work. You can watch me do it. I promise to write slowly."
With a sigh, Redmane suggests, "Just promise us three times that you won't alter the agreed upon wording. I think it is important that you be the one to write it down, for the sake of closure in both worlds."
The Lady Sorceress makes a face. "What was your condition to be, Thomas?"
"I intend to write only what changes you all have agreed to place in the Book," Lord Eoin says, and then repeats the same statement twice more.
"All I ask, is that you accept my forgiveness for that with the rules forced you to do to those I cared for. Before the end, at least someone will forgive you," Thomas says with a smile. He holds up Lord Eoin's pen and asks, "Do you find my condition fair?"
Blinking after her tears are daubed away by the mostmost unlikely of persons the princess suddenly giggles quietly despite herself. "I guess our handwriting i-isn't very good," she admits.
Sir Lefallon snorts, but has to nod in agreement.
Smiling to Angel, Redmane tells her, "It's better that Lord Eoin write it in any case, if Anastasia is to forgive John as well."
The older man stands, straightening, and holds out his hand for the pen. "I am what I have been, Lord Explorer. I do not think that I deserve anyone's forgiveness for all that I have done. But I thank you for it, my lord."
"To move on, one has to let go of the past pains. It would do no one any good to continue to hate," Thomas replies and hands over the pen. "May you find peace."
Angel untwines her arms from around the lord's leg so he can walk to the Book unobstructed. Then she turns her smile on Lady Redmane and gives her a nod. "I know," she admits. Then she sniffles again and blows her nose before adding, "But I always cry during happy endings. And I guess I cry at happy-sad endings too."
Lord Eoin smiles at all of them, then turns to walk towards the pedestal, his pen in hand. Once there, he reaches for the materials -- knife, parchment, glue -- Pelles laid out for altering the text. Then he hesitates, glancing over his shoulder. Almost shyly, he says, "I have ... one other request to make. When all this is done ... if you would, put a 53rd Rule into the Book. Write that Lord Eoin, before his passing, had a son, a son in the mortal realm. Write ... that this son grew to be a good man, and that his name was John Cortlynn. I have no right to ask but -- would you do that for me?"
"I have no objections to that," Thomas replies quietly.
"But John Cortlynn is a good man," replies a confused sounding Angel.
Redmane smiles and nods. "We will," she promises.
With a sad smile, Eoin says, "Then it shall hurt nothing to set it down, Angel." He nods to the others. "Thank you." Turning back to the book, he meticulously cuts a square of paper to cover up the parts of the Rule that will be changed, then begins, carefully, to write.
At the Palace of All Seasons in Mirari, the battle goes badly. With the Lady Sorceress gone from the East Wall, the undead army swept in upon the town, forcing the defenders, hard-pressed, to retreat to the inner walls of the Palace. Even then, all seemed hopeless -- until the sudden return of Lady Knight Redmane, the Lord of Horses, the Lord Explorer, the Sorceress, the Princess Angel, and their companions, burst through the Palace Siege. By spell and steel they turned the tide of battle, and the forces of the Destroyer were vanquished.
But this time, the Mirari's heroes were not content to allow the Destroyer to retreat, or to disappear. They pursued him, relentlessly and without rest, back to the heart of his stronghold. There, they chased him through a maze of corridors, until they uncovered the most remarkable secret of all: Lady Ariel's body, intact and uninjured, protected by great magicks. With Angel's healing touch, the pegasus was returned to life, while a stunned Lord Eoin looked on.
Then, in the presence of her saviors, the Lady Ariel arose, and went to her erstwhile enemy, and forgave him. With a great sigh and a shudder, Lord Eoin shed his masks and his titles, and all his deceptions. "Thank you," he said to her, in a whisper. Then he was gone -- passed into Historie.
In the Hall, everyone is as they were, but there is a sense of time having passed, and all can remember the events that have recently unfolded in the land of Mirari. But there is an double-edge to their memory, as it seems also as if, a mere moment ago, Lord Eoin was writing a new version of the 52nd Rule in the Book. And then, it is suddenly clear: Something has changed. No Mr. Cortlynn stands in the Harcourt backyard, no Lord Eoin is there to write in the Book of Rules.
"Interesting. Where did Cortlynn go? Was he, perhaps,just fey all along. Just Lord Eoin? Well, we did promise we would write in about him having a son. I think we should still do that," Thomas says.
"Who here as the best handwriting?" Redmane asks. "We need to add the rule about John Cortlynn."
"Mine's not bad. I've had lots of practice doing maps and all. Or, is Nymuae still here? Hers is probably better than mine," Thomas says and looks around.
"I have good handwriting," Nymuae says. She looks to Pelles.
"Ah, so you are," Thomas says with a grin.
"He was Lord Eoin," Sir Lefallon says with growing certainty, laying a hand on Angel's shoulder. "He was only pretending to be John Cortlynn. But... He found something here, I think, that wakened the man he used to be. The man he could have been."
"Then I was right about why he didn't want to go back. He didn't want to return to the man he was forced to be," Thomas says with a nod.
Bragwaine meows, "Sorcerer Pelles can do calligraphy!"
"It's all so ... so ... " the little blonde girl waves her hand vaguely, " ... weird. Confusing, even. But, um, oh! We do need to write about John Cortlynn! And, um, my handwriting is okay. Lady Nymuae's is better. And-" She starts as Simon touches her shoulder and she turns around to blink at him. "Oh!" she exclaims. "Don't startle me. It's been so very tiring. I feel like I've been everywhere. But Simon, do you think after the Rule is written it would be okay to send John Cortlynn a letter? I guess we'd need to know where he is, huh?"
Nymuae walks, slowly, to the book. She takes up the silver pen. "Yes ... I think ... " she starts to say to Tom, then her voice trails off. The sorceress drops the pen, and bursts into tears, folding up on the ground.
"Then he gets to write it," Thomas says with a grin. "
Tag, Pelles, you're it."
"I think... I think he'll find his way back to Ainigton, some day," Sir Lefallon says with a smile, patting Angel's shoulder.
"Redmane, would you get Pelles the pen, please?" Thomas asks. He then walks over and kneels beside Nymuae and says, "Nymuae...? What's wrong?"
Nodding to Thomas, Redmane retrieves the pen and brings it to Pelles.
Sorcerer Pelles takes the pen, somewhat absently, as he looks with concern after Nymuae.
"I hope so," replies Angel with a smile that does not last. The crying causes the girl to look as startled as when Simon tapped her shoulder a minute ago. It's been so long since she had heard Lady Nymuae cry that it seems to take the blonde a moment to find -- and a moment longer to accept -- just who is sobbing. "Lady Nymuae?" asks the bewildered little girl.
"It's horrible," the black-haired woman says, and in that moment, she sounds more like a 13-year-old girl than an ageless sorceress. "Oh, dear Lord, it's horrible! We killed him, Tom! We killed him and we -- how much else did we -- I -- " she hides her face in her hands. "What have we done?"
Sir Lefallon looks up at the same time as Angel, taken aback. "We didn't! We..." His voice trails off, momentarily at a loss.
"I think Rebecca is returning to us," Redmane says, although she too seems more Agatha-like now. "Go ahead and write it, Pelles: Before his passing, Lord Eoin sired a son in the mortal realm, named John Cortlynn, who grew to be a good man."
"We did! We did!" Nymuae all-but-shrieks at Lefallon. She huddles into a ball, knees against her chest.
Thomas shakes his head. "We haven't killed him. We gave him peace. A longtime ago, three children forged a world. It was flawed, but it was a world. Mistakes happened; people were condemned to fates they did not deserve. We have simply made it possible for them to have a happy ending now. We did what he wanted. We gave him his freedom," Tom says. "And now, with a son, we give him a future. I think it was the best ending we could have forged for him, and for them."
"We've laid John Harcourt's tortured soul to rest, Nymuae," Redmane says. "I'm sure he's received the forgiveness he so desperately needed from his brother and sister now."
Sorcerer Pelles nods to Lady Redmane, looking even more sober than usual, and sets to the careful task of adding the rule to the book.
The blonde shrinks back at Nymuae's outburst despite it not being directed specifically at her and manages to bump in to Simon while doing so. She fumbles back to take Simon's hand. "I don't think we did," she offers timidly. "It's what he wanted wasn't it? And just the way he wanted."
"I don't care if that's as good as it gets! It's still horrible. This book -- it's pure evil. It's playing God! It's got no right -- we've got no right -- doing what's been done." Nymuae looks at it venomously. "We have to stop it. Go ... go ahead, Pelles." She looks even sadder as he writes.
Taking a few breaths to calm herself as well, Redmane says, "I'm going into the house to call Mr. Kuning, and let him know what's happened. I don't want to add another Rule without consulting him first. Do you want to come with me, Angel?"
Sir Lefallon takes Angel's hand for a moment, looking at a loss for what to say.
"Sometimes the truth isn't what you want to hear, Nymuae. What we have to do now, is secure their future. They have a world and a right to exist. And you're right, we should meddle in it as little as possible. It's not an evil book, it's just a book. What matters are the rules laid into its pages. We are good people. Not perfect, but I like to think we have the right heart for it. We need to solidify their world, and leave it at that. Make that the end of it," Thomas says to Nymuae calmly.
"Agatha's right. Mr. Kuning ought to know. They all ought to know. Lord April, Lord October, all of them. It's their world. We shouldn't tell them what Rules they have to live with." Nymuae calms somewhat, though she's still agitated.
Alice glances between Lady Nymuae and Agatha was a half-horrified expression on her face. Before walking (and the rushing) to the house she squeezes Simon's hand and leans to whisper something to him.
Simon leans over wonderingly.
"We have told them about the rules. You were there," Thomas says.
"Hey, wait for me!" Agatha calls after the running girl, and hurries to catch up so she can unlock the door again.
"Yes. But we shouldn't be the ones writing in the Book. They should," the sorceress says.
Simon nods. "I will," he says stoutly before letting go of her hand so she can run up to the house.
"I agree. The only one I feel we should undo is the one about the rule of a Year. If they choose to change anything beyond that, that's their choice. We should give the book to them," Thomas says, green eyes locked intently on Nymuae.
"And like it or not, we are, in part, a part of their world now. We have to accept and deal with that too," Thomas says with a weak smile.
After letting herself and Alice into the Harcourt kitchen, Agatha retrieves the special number from her pack, and goes over to the table where the phone is still sitting. "Are you okay, Alice?" she asks the younger girl before lifting the headset.
"Yes. Except ... give it to who? It ought to belong to all of them, not just the King or the nobles. Oughtn't it?" Nymuae shakes her head, pulling black hair back from her face. She looks at her hair, then, and her hands, staring at the long white fingers.
"The Lord Protector, I think," Thomas says. "He's really outside the nobles, anyway. For him to become the Rules Protector, or somesuch. He helped forge the world, and wants it to endure."
As a distant greyhound keeping watch notices the change in activity, he comes loping up to the kitchen door quickly, barking. His glance about shows slight confusion as he directs his attention to Agatha and Alice. Is everything all right?
The young boy dressed in a knight's armor comes to stand by Nymuae and Thomas, kneeling by Nymuae.
Nymuae considers this for a long moment, still looking at her hands. "All right. I guess he's the best one for it. I ... I think he'll want a Rule saying the Rules don't change any more, and that mortals can't change Mirari. I think that'd be good. But it's not my choice."
"The Destroyer has passed into Historie, Kuon," Agatha tells the dog. "We're going to call Mr. Kuning now, and let him know."
Thomas nods. "It should be their choice," he agrees. "I know this has been hard, but I think we've given them their first real hope for a future. Yes, we made mistakes. But, we did it. You should feel proud about that. We helped save a world."
"Is what Lady Nymuae said really true?" asks Angel as settles herself on one of the seats. "I've n-never hurt anyone on purpose before. But Lady Nymuae makes it sound like we did. And, and we all tried so hard to make everything just ri-" Kuon's arrival causes her to pause and she frowns to the canine. "What do you think Kuon? These are yours Rules too."
"I would," Nymuae says, quietly. "Except that I can't help but feel maybe we're the reason it needed saving at all."
Agatha picks up the handset and starts dialing the long-distance number. "I think that maybe we created a life, Alice. I don't really know," she replies.
"If it wasn't us, it would have eventually been someone else. Someone would have re-awoken the cycle eventually," Thomas points out.
I... I felt the change, Kuon's stance suggests, tail wagging, dark brown eyes regarding Agatha. He must surely know as well. But it would be good to speak with him.
"At least it was us, and we were able to repair the cycle to give them a future. It would have been easier if it hasn't have been us. The burden would not have been ours to bear. But, I think were carried it quite well. Really, have a bit more faith in yourself, Nymuae," Thomas says and quirks a small grin.
"I've never made life before," says Alice contemplatively. "I just like to fix broken ones." She watches Kuon for a moment before waving him over. "What are you going to do now that everything is almost as fixed as it can be?"
Kuon wags, the meaning plain as he lolls his tongue in Alice's direction. Live.
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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.