Garbage Day

Twenty two years had passed since the Lagallan Revolution ended.  Following the descent of the floating island city, and the country of Lagalla’s subsequent shift from a magistrate system to that of a senate, the former capital that had once been known as Upper Arcanon had all but been abandoned.  The short war that had ravaged the city had done much to dissuade the nobility that once called it home to stay there, as well as the added factor that the city was dangerous and at any point could resume flight.  Only the most stubborn of the Lagallan nobility remained living in this derelict city.  

So naturally, Alstroemeria Locksley thought, her brother was one of the few who continued to call this place home.  Thus, this would be the best place for the two of them to talk about discrete topics without fear of being overheard.

In these twenty two years, Alstroemeria’s appearance had barely changed at all.  Her dawn-colored hair, which she now wore freely instead of braiding, had grown even longer.  The vibrant clothes of a revolutionary had been traded for a feminine pale yellow dress and an ivory cloak with subtle touches of gold to match her eyes.  At her side was a wooden staff, decorated at it’s top with three golden flowers and two gilded vines that wove their way down to where her hand rested upon it.  

Contrasted to the seemingly timeless woman, the former lavish streets of Old Arcanon she walked upon now bore more resemblance to a path through the woods.  It hadn’t taken much on her part to convince the Senate that the country’s diminished coffers were best spent elsewhere, and the most practical course of action would be to let nature reclaim what had been abandoned.  The subsequent two decades of growth had begun to revert parts of Arcanon back into its primal state.  Perhaps several decades more and it would be much as it had been during the time of her ancestors, Arlen and Drystan. As the “goddess” Aisling had left it nearly a millennium ago.  She found this thought strangely comforting.  And as she walked, tangles of young trees and tall grasses gave way to the better maintained grounds of Haventree Palace and its gardens.  Crossing this threshold, her reflections of the past likewise gave way to thoughts of the future.

Her siblings Piper, Connor, and Delphine had all begun families of their own.  Families that in one way or another would carry on the Haventree legacy, and in turn begin a legacy of their own.  Perhaps this next generation would forge a different path than that of their parents.  Or mayhap history would repeat itself in its own way.  Only time would be able to tell such things, Alstroe had mused to herself.  However, that history could repeat itself for one of these children in particular proved to be deeply concerning.

Adrian Haventree.  A child her brother had woven from the first magics using Gleipnir and his and his husband’s own lifeforce.  A child whom Connor then adopted, then kept in the dark about this truth.  A child approaching his fifthteenth birthday, knowing none the wiser.  A child who was beginning to ask many, many dangerous questions.  A child whose fathers were woefully reluctant to provide him any answers.  A child who could potentially inherit those answers after his fathers’ deaths.  A child who would be justifiably angry at such revelations, while she would be the remaining person to bear the consequences of that anger.

A situation all too familiar to Alstroemeria.  She would not have her nephew make the same mistakes she had if she could help it.  Not to mention the information Adrian could inherit, and the potential volatility of the situation that he could inherit it in, would not just put her life at risk.

Yet another topic she, reluctantly, wished to discuss.  One she had left alone since the war.  There was another damning secret her brother knew about her, and one his son could potentially inherit. Likely one Connor would want his son to inherit.  

He knew of Byrintus, the man… the manakete... she loved.  At least, Connor knew of his presence, his powers, and that she was protecting his anonymity.  Alstroe had been vague as to why, and reluctant to share more than what he already knew.  Thus it was long overdue for her to explain to him.  Less the amalgamation of all variables at play converge in an unmitigated disaster.  

Alstroemeria finally reached one of the courtyards in Haventree Castle, spotting an aged statue of what humans had thought to be the likeness of Aisling.  A blood-red alstroemeria resting at the statue’s feet indicated that her brother had already made his way inside.  No need to wait for him, then.

Wasting no time, the woman channeled her magics.  Though she had no need to, habit and practice had her taking the staff in her hand and tapping it on the ground.  Sparkling golden vines gently grew from where it touched and swiftly enveloped her.  She closed her eyes, willed herself to shift, and reopened her eyes to see the pure white chambers that only a moment ago had laid deep below her feet.  The magical vines dissipated as quickly as they had materialized.

“Well met, brother!  I see you received my message.” She called out into the echoing halls, seeking to summon him out of whichever chamber he was in.

Connor arrived early to the entrance to the Roots, despite his weaker body he moved quickly after placing the flower at the entrance to let his sister know he was there. Moving deeper into the cavern he went to the place where Millicent met her end. Reaching the crystal there he deposited another few of his own memories. He sat down on the throne Arlen sat it in and pulled out the old Gleipnir writing down memories before he placed them within the dragon stone that made up Arcanan.

Probably don't have enough time to linger here though.

Connor left the area rushing to the entrance. As he rounded the corner he heard Alstroe speak through

"It's rather difficult to miss your messages. What is it you want to talk about? Must be serious to ask me down to The Roots. I'm old now and getting around isn't as easy as it used to be you know."

Alstroemeria caught sight of her brother, the man aged now beyond his years.  Watching him age like this had been… difficult.  But she had since steeled herself to the inevitability of his fate.  He and Warren had made this choice, and she respected it.

“I do thank you for taking my message seriously, and I won’t waste your time.  I’ll cut to the quick.”

Quickly she closed the gap between the two of them.  She cleared her throat, and stood up straight to meet Connor directly in the eye.  

“Adrian has not stopped asking certain questions, Connor.  He’s gotten much better at asking these questions, and is smart enough to realize that the three of us are dodging them.

I will be blunt with you.  I am afraid that if we do not begin being more forthcoming, at the very least the nature of the magic he is capable of wielding, he will begin to experiment with it on his own.  And you know that is not something to dabble in lightly.”

Alstroemeria’s words were precise, almost as though she had rehearsed them.  She took a moment to breath before continuing.

“He is your son, and I do not wish to cross a line with you.  Not again.  However, I must admit that I would rather he learn certain truths from us, rather than letting him learn that on his own.  And I believe it would be even worse if he was to learn that ‘from’ you after…”

The words caught in her throat for the briefest of moments.

“...after you and Warren are gone.  

And to be candid, Connor, I have seen this scenario play out before.  With you, with Warren, with Drystan.  Though a child walks a path separate from their parents and ancestors, they will doubtlessly share a piece of them.  I do not wish to risk history repeating itself with my beloved nephew, especially when I am close enough to intervene.  And especially when the First Magics are involved.”

And with her first piece said, Alstroemeria braced herself for her brother’s response.  Her hand gripping slightly tighter to her staff.

Connor exhaled the weight of years pressing down on him again. "What exactly are we supposed to tell him? That he's the remains of a long dead god, mixed with the lifeforce of his fathers? Should we tell him that his living is killing his fathers? How exactly will that not be cruel to do to him?"

Connor waved a hand and two chairs wove themselves into existence out of shadows. He gestured for Alstroe to take one while he settled into the other. "We don't know if he would inherit my memories in any case. Let him be able to actually enjoy his life, no child would want to know they are actually killing their parents."

The ex-prince looked tired, more tired then anyone his age should appear. "There's still much to accomplish Alstroemeria and I won't die until I do."

“Yes, I understand.  I would not suggest telling him now, at the very least.  Something only to consider when he is no longer a child, perhaps.  I only know that even a lie told out of love can still lead to resentment.  Ultimately, though, I will respect your decision on this matter.”

Alstroe’s grip loosened on her staff.  A better reaction than she initially imagined.  Though perhaps her mind was colored by the boy he once was.  

She nodded to him and sat on one of the seats he had conjured.

“That said.  I still worry about him stumbling into the First Magics. And, though I have immense respect for the woman, I would not see him repeat Mistral’s experience in ‘becoming’ what she is.  Nor would I have him walk the same path I did, unintentionally.  It is unlikely he is to encounter anyone like Siah in a human lifetime, but it is still a factor to consider nonetheless.

Thus I would offer the following proposition.

If he wishes it, and only after he reaches the age of 18, I can take him on as an apprentice.  I wish to extend the offer within the next year, as I don’t want him to learn to be afraid of telling us that he’s interested in such things.

It would be a tentative process, much seeing how he handles such power as it would be understanding the responsibilities that come with it.  I would not tell him why he has such power.  And I would be keeping you informed along the way, should you wish.  Though by the time this will come to pass, Adrien will be an adult.”

Alstroe shifted in her seat.

“I understand if you do not trust me with this.  Especially when all I can give you is my word.  I remember how you feel about that.”

He dropped his eyes from Alstroemeria to the floor. "I.. I do trust you with this. I've seen you with him you know."

He chuckled softly almost to himself. "I had to explain to Lanon that Adrian isn't your favorite you know. He's been asking questions too though. I can't believe I can be so simultaneously proud and frustrated by how much they notice. As they both are getting older they are piecing things together better than I thought. Though I shouldn't be too surprised I was hardly older then Adrian when I started making choices that changed the course of history."

Connor shook his head. "You're right about one thing however, it's dangerous for him to not be trained. I'm sure he's been trying bits and pieces of what he can do. Just like everyone when they are learning something *especially* at his age." He sighed clearly resigned. "We can leave the choice up to him in regards to the First Magic at the very least. He'll have more choice about what he wants to be then we did at any rate."

"You and I... our generation didn't have much of a choice concerning that.  But their generation can."

Alstroe smiled at her brother.

"And I am trying not to show favoritism towards any of my nephews and nieces.  Or to any of my friends or blood kin in general. But, Adrian can sometimes make that difficult.  So many questions! It's completely obvious he is far less separated from our Amethyst forebears then we are. 

As for his brother... I don't think Lanon trusts me.  Perhaps something he inherited from you.  Though, even Warren was once like that too."

She chuckled quietly with her brother. 

"In any case, I am glad you agree with this. And I am glad you can trust me with him.  Should he decide to learn from me, I will see to it that he does so safely."

The smile lingered for a moment, but began to fade slightly as Alstroe remembered the other reason she had wanted to talk to him.

"Although... if we are speaking of back then.  There was an additional thing I wished to address between just you and I."

"And what would that be?"

Connor sat up straighter and made pointed eye contact with his sister.

"We were up to quite a bit two decades ago so you might have to refresh this old man's memory." He smiled slightly as he spoke. "The whole course of history was being changed by us almost young enough to be called children."

Alstroe returned Connor's eye contact.

"I suppose I should preface this by saying that there are many damning things you know about me.  Though it is my connection to a notable... man... that I am referring to. My "friend" from the Rebellion.  We spoke of him twice, said we would talk of him more later.  Though, we never did."

Even now, years later, Alstroe had a nervousness about discussing Bryn in specifics to someone other then Seasilia.  Part of her hoped he had forgotten, and then she could avoid all of this.  But it was unlikely something Connor would have forgotten.  And even if Connor was attempting to tailor his memories, as she suspected, it was not something he would have chosen to forget.

Connor's eyes narrow for a single instant. He took a small breath before he spoke briskly. "I assume this is about the dragon then?"

All the ease was gone from Connor's entire being. His face hardened and even tone got colder.

"The one who you've told me NOTHING about for over twenty years. Who has been able to do whatever he wanted for the most part in total secrecy with an ability to manipulate minds to some degree or another?"