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measured_wordsThis is the second part of the Hadyn story I am trying to write. I transcribed it from something I wrote a few weeks ago. The third section is just started, but I do want to finish ice. his just seemed like a good project for tonight since I'm not really awake enough to be really creative. Enjoy!
Part I
Hadyn stood at the window, staring out into the world. Teah lay across his bed, relaxed but alert. Her eyes were on the door to his room but her ears twitched from time to time, listening in case he emerged from his refuge. Her loyalty and dedication were somewhat reassuring and he tried to concentrate on that rather than the flood of panicked terror that overwhelmed his mind.
Teah. If nothing, and no one else (who else was there? Lemdrick?), he had Teah. (He’d taken off on some hopeless mission to which he was ill-suited, with that woman.) Teah would stay. Teah understood. (Sithra. She’d ruined him, ruined everything. Encouraged him to wallow in hopelessness. Gave him sex as comfort, as a drug that dulled his mind. Ruined everything. Disgusting!) She was his friend, his loyal companion. She’d stay, no matter what. She’d chose him. (What is Lendrick who taked to the Chancellor, Prince, and worst of all, Shevan, about him?)
No.
It wasn’t, of course not. (But maybe he’d conspired with Valentine. Told them he was dangerous. Couldn’t be trusted. Keep watch. Don’t let him go off. Keep him drugged. Use him. Trap him.)
They wouldn’t. (Of course they would, of course, run, escape…)
It was always a hard fight. His breathing was shallow, and he was beginning to feel dizzy. There was no where to sit inside the sphere except the sloping floor, and then he couldn’t see Teah. His rational mind had no other anchor. He should let her in. She could help. He couldn’t do it. He focused on his breathing. He should go out and make some tea that would calm his nerves. He could leave the access open to the rope trick. It would be there, safe, if he needed it. He could sit with Teah. Breathe. The flood of negative thoughts did not abate, but he fought through them. He pushed away both the fear and the whispering evil that trailed it, offering him visions of revenge and other terrible possibilities in a muted echo of his own voice.
Hadyn opened the door. Teah looked back at him with her large golden eyes, her ears perked and tail flicking side to side. He could sense her concern but kept her out of his mind for now. Crossing to the small stash of instruments he’d borrowed and pilfered from Volaris’s lab, he lit a small burner and selected some dried herbs from the bundles that hung over the work area.
A few moments later, he was seated at the small wooden table where he took all his meals alone. Teah rested on her haunches beside him, and he rested one hand on her neck. In the other, he held a small cup up to his face as he inhaled the steam, eyes closed.
The herbal infusion calmed him as he breathed, forcing him to relax and take deeper breaths. Eventually he took a sip of the tea. It was potently bitter, far stronger than when he’d first started using the herb to control his panics. This was partly due to his increased familiarity with plant based medecins, but it was lately necessity that drove him to use increased proportions of certain tonics and extractions that went into the concoction. His tolerance was increasing, and the attacks came on him more frequently.
The past seven months that he’d spent in Shinkyo represented the longest stretch of time that he’s spent anywhere since Exia, and possibly even larger than that say. At last when he’d been working for Alient, there had been a fair amount of traveling involved. Now, though he was not technically confined to the compound, it was difficult for hi to find acceptable excuses to escape for longer than a few hours. Despite all the precautions they’d taken, he felt less and less secure the longer he remained.
There was also the matter of the spy. Someone, or something, was feeding information to their enemies, locally if not on a larger scale. A spy was suspected, security measures were increased, and fingers were pointed. The spy could be anyone of those who claimed allegiance to the cause if not directly to the prince. Their numbers were increasing rapidly of late. Despite the number of other likely candidates, Hadyn found a fair number of fingers pointed his way. He blamed Shevan.
The High priestess of Esthalos, God of Justice, hated him, and the feeling was mutual. Like so many Esthalians, she was a hypocrite. She was also stupid, unstable, and mean. Though Hadyn himself was no pinnacle of sanity, nor entirely elliglible for any congeniality award, he knew he was clever – one of the smartest contributors to the cause, certainly. He wasn’t a hypocrite, either.
He took another sip of tea, trying to push aside the unhelpful negativity. Shevan thought him untrustworthy, but so what? He knew he wasn’t. So far, there were no serious repercussions from the situation save that some of the guards made an especial effort to hassle him if he tried to leave the compound for any reason. He needed to go out today, if there was still time.
:How long?: He thought his query to Teah.. He’d been in the library with Kyla when the panic attack struck, but he’d lost track of time in the rope trick, gripped by what he thought of simply as The Fear. She raised her head slight y, flicked her tail, and stood. She purred softly as he stroked her deep black violet fur.
:Some hours.: Her voice, a sharply resonant feminine tone, echoed in his mind. Volaris had established a permanent mental link between them, partly in exchange for Hadyn’s assistance in warding the compound. They could also speak to each other aloud, through the regular rules established between a mage and his familiar, but this arrangement suited both of them better. :Are we going out?:
:Yes.: Teah purred in response. A few hours. Two, maybe. Teah didn’t often bother to measure time the same way as other sentient races. It was less meaningful to her. Hadyn suspected she’d also found her own ways in and out of the compound, but she kept them to herself. Tamara, a Druid and a follower of Kaedus, had introduced a number of stray cats to the compound to help reduce the rat population and prevent the ingress of any polymorphed spies. Teah had killed the first few out of boredom, and organized the survivors to serve her and keep watch over the secret ways. She’d tell him if there were ever a problem she couldn’t handle.
Still, she always seemed pleased to be able to leave with him. It meant leaving the city for the forests and fields nearby, where there was better hunting and better prey. He never asked what she killed – better not to know. She was smart enough to know that though they might seem easy targets, humans made poor prey in the long run. Usually. Still, Teah enjoyed the hunt and humans were rarely much of a challenge.
Hadyn finished his tea, and stood. Sometimes it made him lightheaded, or he’d see flickers at the edges of his vision for a few hours. Once he’d mixed the proportions entirely wrong in his panic, and he’d been laid flat in bed for days with a migraine,. His nerves, at least, had been like steel the following week. It was almost worth it. They were going out now to search for a new plant he’d read about in a tome on Southern herbalism and healing. If he could harvest any nearby, he could perhaps prepare a replacement that presented fewer side effects.
:Let’s go:
Part I
Hadyn stood at the window, staring out into the world. Teah lay across his bed, relaxed but alert. Her eyes were on the door to his room but her ears twitched from time to time, listening in case he emerged from his refuge. Her loyalty and dedication were somewhat reassuring and he tried to concentrate on that rather than the flood of panicked terror that overwhelmed his mind.
Teah. If nothing, and no one else (who else was there? Lemdrick?), he had Teah. (He’d taken off on some hopeless mission to which he was ill-suited, with that woman.) Teah would stay. Teah understood. (Sithra. She’d ruined him, ruined everything. Encouraged him to wallow in hopelessness. Gave him sex as comfort, as a drug that dulled his mind. Ruined everything. Disgusting!) She was his friend, his loyal companion. She’d stay, no matter what. She’d chose him. (What is Lendrick who taked to the Chancellor, Prince, and worst of all, Shevan, about him?)
No.
It wasn’t, of course not. (But maybe he’d conspired with Valentine. Told them he was dangerous. Couldn’t be trusted. Keep watch. Don’t let him go off. Keep him drugged. Use him. Trap him.)
They wouldn’t. (Of course they would, of course, run, escape…)
It was always a hard fight. His breathing was shallow, and he was beginning to feel dizzy. There was no where to sit inside the sphere except the sloping floor, and then he couldn’t see Teah. His rational mind had no other anchor. He should let her in. She could help. He couldn’t do it. He focused on his breathing. He should go out and make some tea that would calm his nerves. He could leave the access open to the rope trick. It would be there, safe, if he needed it. He could sit with Teah. Breathe. The flood of negative thoughts did not abate, but he fought through them. He pushed away both the fear and the whispering evil that trailed it, offering him visions of revenge and other terrible possibilities in a muted echo of his own voice.
Hadyn opened the door. Teah looked back at him with her large golden eyes, her ears perked and tail flicking side to side. He could sense her concern but kept her out of his mind for now. Crossing to the small stash of instruments he’d borrowed and pilfered from Volaris’s lab, he lit a small burner and selected some dried herbs from the bundles that hung over the work area.
A few moments later, he was seated at the small wooden table where he took all his meals alone. Teah rested on her haunches beside him, and he rested one hand on her neck. In the other, he held a small cup up to his face as he inhaled the steam, eyes closed.
The herbal infusion calmed him as he breathed, forcing him to relax and take deeper breaths. Eventually he took a sip of the tea. It was potently bitter, far stronger than when he’d first started using the herb to control his panics. This was partly due to his increased familiarity with plant based medecins, but it was lately necessity that drove him to use increased proportions of certain tonics and extractions that went into the concoction. His tolerance was increasing, and the attacks came on him more frequently.
The past seven months that he’d spent in Shinkyo represented the longest stretch of time that he’s spent anywhere since Exia, and possibly even larger than that say. At last when he’d been working for Alient, there had been a fair amount of traveling involved. Now, though he was not technically confined to the compound, it was difficult for hi to find acceptable excuses to escape for longer than a few hours. Despite all the precautions they’d taken, he felt less and less secure the longer he remained.
There was also the matter of the spy. Someone, or something, was feeding information to their enemies, locally if not on a larger scale. A spy was suspected, security measures were increased, and fingers were pointed. The spy could be anyone of those who claimed allegiance to the cause if not directly to the prince. Their numbers were increasing rapidly of late. Despite the number of other likely candidates, Hadyn found a fair number of fingers pointed his way. He blamed Shevan.
The High priestess of Esthalos, God of Justice, hated him, and the feeling was mutual. Like so many Esthalians, she was a hypocrite. She was also stupid, unstable, and mean. Though Hadyn himself was no pinnacle of sanity, nor entirely elliglible for any congeniality award, he knew he was clever – one of the smartest contributors to the cause, certainly. He wasn’t a hypocrite, either.
He took another sip of tea, trying to push aside the unhelpful negativity. Shevan thought him untrustworthy, but so what? He knew he wasn’t. So far, there were no serious repercussions from the situation save that some of the guards made an especial effort to hassle him if he tried to leave the compound for any reason. He needed to go out today, if there was still time.
:How long?: He thought his query to Teah.. He’d been in the library with Kyla when the panic attack struck, but he’d lost track of time in the rope trick, gripped by what he thought of simply as The Fear. She raised her head slight y, flicked her tail, and stood. She purred softly as he stroked her deep black violet fur.
:Some hours.: Her voice, a sharply resonant feminine tone, echoed in his mind. Volaris had established a permanent mental link between them, partly in exchange for Hadyn’s assistance in warding the compound. They could also speak to each other aloud, through the regular rules established between a mage and his familiar, but this arrangement suited both of them better. :Are we going out?:
:Yes.: Teah purred in response. A few hours. Two, maybe. Teah didn’t often bother to measure time the same way as other sentient races. It was less meaningful to her. Hadyn suspected she’d also found her own ways in and out of the compound, but she kept them to herself. Tamara, a Druid and a follower of Kaedus, had introduced a number of stray cats to the compound to help reduce the rat population and prevent the ingress of any polymorphed spies. Teah had killed the first few out of boredom, and organized the survivors to serve her and keep watch over the secret ways. She’d tell him if there were ever a problem she couldn’t handle.
Still, she always seemed pleased to be able to leave with him. It meant leaving the city for the forests and fields nearby, where there was better hunting and better prey. He never asked what she killed – better not to know. She was smart enough to know that though they might seem easy targets, humans made poor prey in the long run. Usually. Still, Teah enjoyed the hunt and humans were rarely much of a challenge.
Hadyn finished his tea, and stood. Sometimes it made him lightheaded, or he’d see flickers at the edges of his vision for a few hours. Once he’d mixed the proportions entirely wrong in his panic, and he’d been laid flat in bed for days with a migraine,. His nerves, at least, had been like steel the following week. It was almost worth it. They were going out now to search for a new plant he’d read about in a tome on Southern herbalism and healing. If he could harvest any nearby, he could perhaps prepare a replacement that presented fewer side effects.
:Let’s go:
