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Story
+ Angel Hunt ~ Streifen +
Future Effects
Jun and Zephyr's story
Thirty five years after the first...
A story collaboration between Angel Hunt and Streifen
Chapter Two : Part Eleven
“Because of his magic…” Lan starts quietly, his summer tinted eyes slipping away from the one he loves and back to the Selestarri standing at his side. “…he’s been labeled ‘monster’…” unable to help the smirk that forms on full lips at the stupidity, the white haired man shakes his head with a sigh. “Yet in the last thirty five years I have seen humans with no exceptional abilities do more horrific acts than any of our kind… I have been at their mercy and can tell you firsthand how terrible they can be when they decide it. My cries, the pain, the blood taken all fell on deaf ears while apathetic eyes stared on as if I were nothing more than meat and nothing I did changed their point of view. In the last thirty five years I have found that those of our own people… those we’ve trusted with our safety, those we believed in are capable of hurting us more and wounding us deeper than any from our opposite faction have ever managed to do.”
The white haired Bright sighs again, shaggy strands shifting when a light breeze blows across them both. “So I will say that monster…” he continues, his light gaze sliding back towards the sky. “…is a subjective term, Liias. A very subjective term and I hope for your sake that eventually you will come to understand…”
Liias/The Sidereal Oracle: The wind tugs at them once again, snagging on loose garments and unruly hair as the white-haired Bright’s words trail off. Deep in his pockets, the younger man’s fists clench tighter, the uncharacteristic anger within continuing to heat, fed by the pain, the betrayal, and the injustice that sit so heavily. Kealani says he wishes for him to understand and he does, quite clearly. Those hard truths have been forced on him, his eyes opened wide without his consent and his world torn asunder with the speed of a lightning strike.
“Perhaps for you, that term is selective,” Liias’ voice is tight and sharp, allowing more of the hurt inside to show than he desires. He knows that none of what he says will make a difference and that even if it did, that would not fix Kecelia or mend the remnants of his tattered world. He’s venting, looking for a way to relieve some of the pain he carries, but knowing the reasons doesn’t allow him to stop. “My pleas fell on deaf ears and I faced those same apathetic eyes you describe the last time we stood here. No mercy was given, no understanding shown by someone so cold and heartless .” The dark-haired Bright shakes his head, light chocolate eyes glaring once more at the Warden standing across the patio before shifting back. “After what he did, my opinion will remain unchanged.” The tall Selestarri turns, the sudden need to be alone setting his path out into the unoccupied side yard that they had passed through on the way in. “Be well, Kealani…”
The rustle of silk brings his gaze upward as he crosses steps with the Sidereal Oracle, her soft hand reaching out to lightly squeeze his arm as she passes by. The petite woman frowns as she reluctantly releases Liias, the hurt within him so clear that she begins to regret requesting his presence. She had hoped to give him some kind of closure, a sense of ending to an assignment that has simultaneously broken his heart and opened his eyes, yet perhaps it’s all more harm than good this soon in the aftermath.
The boots on her feet make no sound as she steps up beside the tall, white-haired man. A freshly lit cigarette burns between bandaged fingers and shaggy strands fall across the unnaturally tinted gaze that drops to her after a long moment has passed. Kealani is not the young man she recalls, but his heart is still the same, even patched and mended as it has been. He has withstood all that life has bestowed upon him and yet there is still the warm smile and the kindness in his eyes that he’s carried from childhood. There is incredible strength within him, she can sense it, and it further assures that what they’ve done here today, what they forced the Eleven and the Assembly to accept, is correct.
[It does not detract from you, this form of exile. It does not take away what lies at your core, what makes you as much Bright Selestarri as any of us.] Her words seek to reassure, having been through enough trials, though none as unique as this, to understand what one feels in the aftermath. [It is a punishment, there was no way to get around that aspect, but not as harsh, not the worst it could have possibly been.] The Oracle’s blindfolded gaze turns upon the tall man, her tone warm and soft. [Do not allow it to linger long in your heart, Kealani…]
Lan: his mind is caught for a few moments, milling the other Bright’s words over in his head while he works to pull a fresh cigarette free and light it in his absent way. He had hopes… that his words wouldn’t be lost on Liias, that he might understand his point of view and see matters for what they are. He doesn’t know exactly why he cared to try, he’s long since accepted that his people are narrow and small minded in certain regards and when they believe, there is little that can be done to change it. It was a mindset he had himself thirty-five years ago and he can’t blame any of them for as it’s simply how it is. But he tried anyway and it seems as if he’d ended up wasting his breath after all.
Though what disturbs him is the final assessment given of the person he loves, the point his fellow Bright needed to make and a new question he has. He’d lost himself during their last meeting out on the patio standing far behind him and he remembers nothing once the fire escaped him. He’d been worried… scared even that he ended up killing the two partners once he’d come back to his senses and Sashi had assured him that he had not. So for Liias to say what he did makes him wonder exactly what had been done and why the dark haired Bright’s hatred for the telepath seems so clear.
Beyond the seemingly age old prejudice his faction has against one that had at one time been one of their own, that is.
When the Oracle’s scent carries with the light wind, he remains as such, pulled from his thoughts by a presence that not too long ago, he never believed he’d be standing in again. Lan simply nods at her kind words, struggling for a moment to pull the cigarette in his bandaged hand up towards his mouth in order to take a short drag. “I cannot help feeling… as if I am a child being slapped on the wrist for a crime I didn’t commit…” he says quietly to the woman at his side as smoke billows out, a light smile soon gracing full lips.
This much is very true as far as his feelings are concerned. While he knows the Assembly’s decision to exile him makes no difference in the end as to where his home lies and who he is at the core, the finality of it is akin to a rather pointed punch in the face he doesn’t feel he deserves. But he also knows that in time, the bluntness of the pain given will dull and life will return for he and the person he loves in the same way it always has before. Like the fresh wounds riddling his body, he will heal and the peace he’s worked so hard to maintain will be within reach once more.
[They… took my wings…] he starts again softly, yellow eyes pulling away from the Oracle’s petite frame and shifting back towards the sky. [Liias has mentioned… that he feels as I’m sure they all feel, that I had many opportunities to return then but… I could not for that reason ...]
The Sidereal Oracle: A hard sorrow presses against the Bright at the tall man’s words and she sets one delicate hand on his arm. The blindfolded gaze follows summer-tinted yellow up to the limitless sky above, the depths of blue turned sad with the knowledge of Kealani’s loss. [I think,] she says after a long moment, [that considering all you have so lost in life, wrongs committed by the Angels and your own people, your heart has remained beautiful.] It’s easy to see in the white-haired man’s strength, even if she had not known him as a child. [I have no doubt that with all you have endured this will be but a brief interruption and the happiness you have found,] the Oracle’s attention turns momentarily toward Hisashi, [will be restored.]
The clouds overhead pass by before she speaks again, their path across the landscape helped along by the warm breeze. [Perhaps it means little, after all this time,] the hand that remains on Kealani’s bandaged arm gives the gentlest of squeezes, [but I am sorry that you lost Halacie. I am sorry that our efforts to locate you failed. I am sorry that the Angels stole precious things from you. And I am sorry that after all of that, your people would not welcome you home.] The taller Selestarri’s unnatural yellow eyes slip down to her, the depths clearly holding pain despite the warm smile that remains on his lips. [If you wish, I will add to my report what you told me, why you could not return to the Eyrie. Some of your peers may never understand, but at the very least it will be recorded.]
After a long moment, Kealani turns back to his cigarette without answering and the Oracle slowly slips her hand away. Her gaze turns the garden they stand before, the perfectly manicured grounds reminiscent in a way of those at the Towers. Standing at the edge, over to the far right, she catches a glimpse of Liias, the tall dark-haired Bright the very picture of misery. Unmoving, his shoulders slumped, he stands staring down into the waters of the pond. [I noticed that you spoke with Liias, and although I hold no authority over you in any way, Kealani, I would ask that you forgive him if any harsh words were said. His presence is at my request and I fear it may have been in error. He is still grieving and I think we both understand that at those times we are often overwhelmed by anger. We strike at those who have no fault simply because they are present.] Especially when those who are responsible are out of reach for retaliation, such as it is with the younger Bright. In part she is thankful that his head remains clear enough to keep him from those acts, even if it makes his journey to healing longer then it should be. [Liias has a good heart, much like you and so I do not worry for him. What he needs is time and there has not been enough for the mending of such wounds…]
Lan: Yellow eyes do not shift along with the blindfolded woman’s own gaze, the taller Bright simply working to pull the fresh cigarette up to his lips. [I don’t blame him…] he starts quietly as gray smoke billows into the air, his arms sliding carefully back down to rest in the cradle he’d created at his waist. […I was in the same shoes… once.] Lan smiles softly to himself at the nostalgia that statement brings. [I do hope however, that eventually he’ll come to understand Sashi isn’t what he’s perceived to be… and any actions he’d taken were my fault and mine alone…] He’d lost control when he’d been confronted and he knows that whatever happened in the wake of that loss was due to the Dark Warden’s want to protect him. He can say over and over how unlike a monster the one he loves truly is, how deep the measure of his heart runs and how amazing the telepath he can be but his words have yet to get through. In that regard unfortunately he holds little hope as on a whole, his people’s eyes seem to be voluntarily closed.
The smile on Lan’s mouth fades and he falls silent for a few moments while lost a little in the after thoughts of his words, the tone of his voice when he speaks again serious and rather low. [Why…] the Bright turns his attentions back to the petite figure at his side, the hurt tainting warm summer eyes distant with its deep hold. […why has no one else been told? Angels… are out there Oracle and yet none of our people beyond those involved seem to know. After everything I have suffered through… how could no one else have been warned?] he’d found out enough in his years of freedom to know that at least on the higher levels -the Council, the Assembly and the Oracle herself, the Angels are no secret and he’s never understood why they’ve kept it from the rest. How many more of their people have been sent unknowingly into their hands? After speaking with Aki he knows he wasn’t the first, so how can any of them be sure he hasn’t been the last…?
The Sidereal Oracle: The hurt that flows from the one at her side is almost tangible, filling the air between them as it spills forth with each word. Saturated so deeply within Kealani, she’s once again assured of his strength, proven by the length of time he’s managed to keep it all pent up inside. The concern for his people in spite of years of separation and the strain of this most recent sundering both warms her and breaks her heart simultaneously and she reaches out to once again to gently rest her hand on his bandaged arm. Whether it’s more for his benefit or her own, she cannot say.
[Ah, Kealani,] she says quietly, [now you speak of politics.] For what is not, amongst the great, sweeping towers of Aureus Eyrie? [Sadly, the suffering of one, while agreed upon to be a terrible thing, is but a small flame in the vast inferno that is politics. Should those you loved, your friends, your people as a whole be given such a violent wake-up call? Forced into awareness that this world is shared by many more than we have always thought?] Her blindfolded gaze turns in the direction of Liias, the wounded Bright still standing beside the garden pond. [Everything they have known, any security believed, even if false, stripped away on a chance that they may run afoul of these Angels? Is it a cruelty or a duty to give such revelations? For all our peoples’ honor and bravery there would be a wave of fear, of dissent, and how soon before it trickled down to affect our duties, our way of life? Do we have the right to do such a thing? Do we have the right not to?] The petite woman sighs and slowly withdraws her hand, watching for a moment as the white-haired man takes another drag from the rapidly dwindling cigarette. [Long have these questions been debated, every side presented for good or ill, but there has been no clear path, no sure answers. Do I hate what has happened, despair the pain and anguish that were undeservedly forced upon you? I can only hope you will believe that I do, with all my heart. Do I worry for the others, that they may fall victim to similar circumstances? Every day…] The Oracle’s gaze meets strained summer yellow and she slowly shakes her head. [I have no clear answer for you, Kealani, and I am sorry for that.]
Over on the patio, the scribes are packing up their scrolls and seals, more than a few flashing a nervous look in the direction of Hisashi and the glare that the Dark levels at anyone immediately nearby. They cannot interpret his impatience as the concern and love that those looks truly mask and the unexpectedness of that particular matter between Kealani and the Warden brings a soft smile to her lips. [I fear our time together grows short.] The Oracle turns to face the tall Bright, one hand reaching up to touch gently at his cheek. [If you would permit it, although I have no true right, may I come from time to time to visit with you? I would like to know that you are well… and happy, with the life you have chosen…]
Lan: the answers he’s yearned far too many years for are deftly denied, the way the Oracle skirts around the issue something that neither surprises him or helps. He’s known himself, learned in lessons hard taught of how he and Hail were most likely seen as a small price paid, a minor sacrifice in comparison to the supposed sanctity of the whole. It was knowledge that once hurt him so deeply it often superseded the given physical wounds. But over the years he’d found himself hoping, just a small spark inside of him that thought perhaps there was a minute chance the blindness his people have could truly be genuine and honest, that the elders and those meant to look after the rest, the ones whose trust is given without question might honestly not know themselves.
It was… a silly hope to have.
Now all he can do is hope that eventually they will come to see that keeping everyone in the dark purposefully will harm more than help in the long run and that this knowledge, the knowledge of what lies out there waiting for them will be given before another suffers through what he has. He knows it is as a futile hope to have as his hope to be rescued during his years of torture had once been, but he finds he can’t help it just the same.
[You may…] Lan starts quietly, only able to offer the Oracle the same sadness tainted smile he’s worn from the start. [Your concern… even after all this time is appreciated and I would enjoy a once familiar face… from time to time. Thank you...]
Gray smoke billows up into the air, blown free to spiral away from full lips as the last remnants of the cigarette is dropped to combust from a heavily bandaged hand. The faintest sounds of footfalls approach from behind, the scent those steps belong to reaching altered senses long before the other even arrives. Sun warmed eyes slide away from the sky and he turns just as the Dark Warden steps up to his side, the effort to shift even the small distance clear in every movement he makes. Tattooed fingers slip carefully around his narrow waist, his wrapped own gliding to embrace in return.
[And once again…] the white haired man whispers as he leans down to touch full lips to a crown of snow peppered coal, his eyes closing soon after. [… there is only you and I] he smiles a warm genuine smile against Sashi’s hair. [Just as it should be…] the last few days have been taxing for them both. The tiredness felt from their efforts to help the Dark’s brother and his Angel had already worn to make an easy way for the first loss of control he’d had in many years. The consequences are now to be carried on his body, new scars added to far too many old. Then of course, the matter in which he and the other Selestarri have been expecting for most of their fifteen years had finally come to pass, leaving him emotionally torn as old wounds were reopened and answers needed were both denied and given alike.
New scars once again added to old.
But in the end, things are as they should be, the gaping holes will close and he will heal because everything he needs he holds in his arms, everything he truly wants holds him in return. Life will continue, they will continue and he’ll be happier for it when all is said and done. Just… as it should be.