What a Difference a Year Makes

What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Thu Sep 27, 2012 8:54 am

Schedules. Rituals. Order imposed upon the chaos that was Myrken Wood. These were the things that made life bearable. Stability overlaid upon all the madness and darkness and the unknown. That was how Myrkenites coped. Toiling the farm at the same time each day. A lunch meeting that occurred like clockwork. And training, training that would take place each and every morning.

And why? Because without pushing forward, without growing, changing, grasping, there was no point to any of. Stability was enough to make one cope, but to endure? To do anything but sleep and hide through life? To do that, one needed more, and growth, change, something to grasp for, a light to move towards. This was an end in and of itself. Could anyone not from Myrken understand that? The why didn't matter because the act was everything.

Elliot Brown strove to be more than he was. At first, he cared about the cost. Then later, he was aware of it. And finally, he saw it as it passed him by. It passed him by and he no longer cared. He had purpose. he had meaning. He had growth. Skill. Deftness. Security. A meal in his stomach and clothes upon his back. Winter would soon arrive, just a month or two away, and he welcomed it. He'd turn his nose up at the biting cold and for once, he'd bite back. No, this year, for the first year of his life, the cold wouldn't be able to touch him. He danced between rooftops, amidst rafters. What could touch him anymore? What could catch him? What could reach a boy on the verge of manhood when he had passed by all that had defined him.

The superstitions and lessons of his parents? His father was dead and his mother had been a fool. She was preyed upon not by a single person but by the entirety of her life. She toiled the field for survival, to feed her young. Her back was stooped, her hands cut and worn, and what did she have to show for it? Survival. A social acceptance. She spent her life hiding from the truth, from her oppression, from the slavery to her own body and the whelps it had produced.

In leaving, the rogueling had freed her from a bit of that burden, from his portion of it. He understood that now. He understood so much now. It had been a long time in coming. The knights were withered, their own sacrifices whittling their numbers until they were insignificant. They had weathered Myrken through one storm and then could do little against the next or the next or the next. It kept coming, it all kept coming, but now Elliot understood.

In life, you help yourself. In life, you take what you want, because if you don't, someone else will. You do what you want. You choose who to care for. You take nothing for granted. You appreciate every moment. And you stand for no one wronging you, because if you do once, they'll do it again and again and again. Cherny had stood up for himself and had been rewarded for it, but if the boy did it again, Elliot wouldn't hesitate. There was room for compassion, and he had shown it once, but there was never room for weakness. Not in Myrken. Not in this cold, unfair world.

Loyalty mattered though, but so few were deserving of it. Solena had given him so much, everything. She had freed him from his prison upon the ground walking along the other blind fools. She had freed him from his prison of his morals. She had freed him from his prison of his needs. She had taught him to fly in three ways. For that he would do anything for her. He would die. He would maim. He would kill. This was a binding of his own choice. The first that he knowingly made since his eyes were opened.

These were the sort of thoughts that rumbled through the previously ill-used brain of Elliot Brown as he stood beside his teacher, their features framed by the sunrise. There were moments, lapses, where he lost focus, where he wanted something else, companionship, friendship, old connections and new, but that's all the were, lapses. One after the next proved to be a mistake, an error, the ghost of what can no longer be. He felt them less and less now. He had much more practical lessons to replace them.

He knew she had things to speak to him about. His recent action. His recent choice of companions, his recent choice of goals. But when did they ever just sit and talk? Not since she had her child. The teenage boy (fifteen? sixteen?) smiled an honest smiled at the elf. "Today is the day I catch you." They would talk, but amongst motion and danger and thrill. There was no other way to live.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Sun Sep 30, 2012 10:11 am

From the beginning, Solena had been atypical of those who took on apprentices. Instead of demanding a binding contract of his word, she had seemed completely flippant whether he came or went. There was only the warning that if he wished to stop learning, and he stopped appearing in the mornings without warning, she would take that to mean that he had lost interest. It wouldn't matter how much he begged, he'd get nothing more from her. But every morning like clockwork, he had appeared. He had accepted her tutelage in spite of her condition, even when she could do little more than point and explain how it should be done. And on those few mornings he could not make it, he made sure she knew why.

At first, it had been exercise. His bulky frame needed to be remade. He had to be taught patience. Humans were remarkably bad at patience most of the time, and Elliot had been no different. Those first few days had earned him the same response to his complaining. "You can leave." She had said it whenever he had started to fuss, and she said it so often that he had stopped complaining. But he had never left.

Then, he'd been taught how to dodge. It hadn't been easy, and the boy had been sent on his way bruised and beaten more than once. Even pregnant, Solena had surprisingly good aim. Good enough aim for him to realize that if she had wished to hit him with a dagger, she could have. But as the boy discovered the way his new muscles worked, the elf had found herself enjoying his growing enjoyment of their games. During those early months, she'd made sure to keep it lighthearted. She danced around his questions, answering them with her own and making his mind shed its rust. She made him come to his own conclusions.

It had made him obnoxious, and that wasn't something that bothered Solena in the slightest.

When Kirueli was born, it allowed the elf to start to really challenge him. Make-shift training in her yard had turned into using Myrken as their early morning playground. She had stopped treating him like a novice. She expected more. She wasn't afraid to injure him. Little things to begin with, of course. Flinging a knife at him as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, testing his instincts. Setting up traps where he was likely to land to test his observational skills. Weakening supports so that landings sent him crashing into a building and forcing him to think on his feet on how he was going to get out.

But the more that she made him independent, the more he tried to implement his own ideas. The mill was not something she had been pleased about. But as with all things, the seemingly indulgent elf hadn't told him no. In fact, she never forbade him anything, directly. He wouldn't be her child for much longer.

"You think so?" The moon-touched fey asked him. Her skin always held a hint of silver in it as if she'd been dusted by moonlight. He'd gotten to see most of the tattoos that adorned her body, and she'd explained the significance of each one. Every one of them had a purpose. A -story-. A connection to someone living or dead or missing. He smiled, and she smirked as she bounced on her toes on the ledge of the home that she'd bid him to meet her. "Let's see if you can."

Sunlight shimmered as the fey literally disappeared next to him, and he was forced to listen for the faintest hint of her footsteps headed across the roof as a sign of which direction she was headed.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Sun Sep 30, 2012 3:08 pm

He was too stubborn to leave and too bullheaded to really think about the moral complications of what he was learning. He was becoming faster, more skilled, more able to choose his own destiny in Myrken. That's not to say he never asked, but her answers were generally just right for him. It's not necessarily that she was a master of human nature. It's just that Elliot Brown was a very easy book to read. That much of what he needed to hear was much of what she might have said anyway didn't hurt matters one bit.

So his body transformed and his morals, badly patched together by tradition, superstition, social restrictions, and stories fell away one after the next, replaced by a code all his own, tempered but not crafted by his rougish teacher. He was a boy, a young man, who did care about those close to him so first her and then her baby became truly important to him, things to protect, first above almost all else, and then above all else.

As his morals changed his lot in life seemed to follow along. First she provided him with gifts. A place to stay. Clothes to wear. A dagger, a beloved dagger to go along with the one that practically fell at his feet (And could have landed in his chest). But then soon after, he began to take small things he wanted, a little nicknack here, a bit of food there. Things he didn't need, but wouldn't mind having. Things taken from people who wronged him or someone else, things for the poor, even. There was a noble bent to it.

When he broke Nova's pendant at her sayso (and due to his increased alienation from others: no one would help him, just how no one would help right with Catch either!), her well being became more of his responsibility and stealing became all the easier still. Cinnabar Calomel had warned him about the need to be responsible for someone but the former Constable had no idea how easy it could be. Oh, she didn't bring the same joy to the boy now that she was far gloomier in her outlook but tending to her? Well, that was no difficulty at all when one could take what he want.

From there, he no longer looked back. He ever took enough to hurt someone who truly didn't seem to deserve it, but he took plenty and sold some. He bought new clothes and stole others. He bought wheedled and stole a whole new life for himself: gifts for friends, what was left of them, that was. He was no longer some scamp off the street playing knight. He was a young gentleman, a rogue, always keeping his scores obscure, with little trace, or most of all, small enough to be below the notice of the Constabulary. With rogue former marshalls running around killing some of them and everything else, a thief with smartly modest ambition, with someone to give him good advice, could do well indeed.

So there he was, challenged, changed, and confident in a way he'd never been before, able to back up his words to some extent. Oh, there was a cloud over him as well. Everything seemed... more on edge these days. It was the life he was leading, he crossed new lines everyday, but all in all, he was satisfied. As his cries for help went in the wrong directions or were ultimately unanswered, they became less and less important. Why look back when there was such a future ahead of him.

Now, though? There was an elf ahead of him. Solena, better than anyone else in this world, knew how to shut Elliot up. Make him focus. Make him silent. One tiny noise, one bit of concentration and he was off after her, moving as if he was born to do this.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Mon Oct 15, 2012 6:41 am

His body had been carefully and purposefully honed into something useful. Every exercise expounded on the one before it. Every task required him to use the skills he'd learned, forcing him to master each one to her satisfaction before he'd be taught another. It forced him to be patient, to learn at her pace. Yet, Solena tried to remember that he was only human. That he didn't have the luxury of time to truly grasp and understand the implications of what he was getting himself into. His body was retrained.

Now, it was time to train his mind.

Those that knew of his apprenticeship thought her too lax on the boy. He was just as stubborn and bullheaded as ever. She didn't restrict his movements or his behavior. She didn't chastise him for little things done wrong. She didn't seek to control him. However, there were things that he still needed to learn.

Allowing him to glimpse her lead him on a merry chase across Myrken rooftops. They'd run the route many times while teaching him how to fall without injuring himself. She had shown him where to put his feet on the rooftops to keep from putting one through a weak spot. She'd shown him how to notice such a weak spot while he was moving. Running hadn't been allowed at all until recently; running required a certain amount of confidence and arrogance.

And it was just when he thought he'd caught up to her that she'd prove him wrong, again. The chimney that stuck up through the roof was one they'd passed hundreds of times before. The roof itself was fairly solid; the noble that owned the home kept it in good repair. As he slid past, the iron grip of a slender arm suddenly wrapped itself around his throat, and he was yanked back against the chest of an elf. Her head tucked in immediately against his, refusing to allow him to look at her. "Your body looks and acts like a thief, but your mind still acts like a knight," she accused with a low whisper of breath, daring him to deny it. "You are not a stupid boy. Why do you continue to pretend that you are?"
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Mon Oct 15, 2012 7:02 am

Suede Roschen. The Mad Tailor of Myrken Wood. Drow-Swain. The poisoner who was poison himself. Throughout the last year, there had been important moments that have helped to define Elliot brown's mindset: people failing to believe him that Catch was increasingly volatile, Renea refusing him entrance to Catch's cell, a lack of assistance when it came to helping Nova and his own inability to do any true good for her.. all of that shaped him, but only his talk with Suede Roschen really expanded his mind, really drove him to challenge his conceptions in any meaningful way.

How sad and frightening was that?

A thousand thoughts went through his head. First and foremost was attack! flight! reflxes started to kick in. She had him close but he had access to his weapons, to his arms, his legs. He could strike her a thousand ways. That was, however, when he realized where his head was, what was against his back. He had seen the transformation of her own body in the days after her pregnancy's end. He was a teenage boy! There were weaknesses and reflex fell to the wayside in the face of hormones. He froze, even as the air was leaving his body. There was a quick lesson learned. Next time, he'd be more prepared for such an.. onslaught. For now, though, the moment was lost.

As air left him, his mind started to work. Knights weren't stupid! He almost said it too, but they were, sort of. He knew that. Chivalry. The code. Never retreating. Never asking for money. Being in Myrken, fighting zombies in the first place. It was all stupid. Was he really acting that way? His only response, as he kept trying to crane his neck, kept trying to get breath in his lungs, kept trying to look at her was.. "I take what I want."
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Mon Oct 15, 2012 7:18 am

The past year had been spent purging him of the blind devotion to the Knighthood. It had been spent learning the way he reacted when confronted. Oh, she taught him. There was no denying that. However, she'd observed him in the process, right down to the way his breathing changed when confronted with something unexpected. Yet, Solena wasn't perfect, and the tips of her ears tinged with the realization that she'd triggered an unexpected response in the boy. To her credit, she didn't point out that she knew.

"You don't think," that voice hissed against his ear. "You assume it will be what you wish because you wish it to be so." It was why he'd not met any of her deadlier traps. Something that could seriously hurt him or maim him. "That is the way a Knight thinks." A low blow, perhaps, but just as pointed as any knife she might've used. She didn't have one to his throat, at least.

Nor did she let him go. No, his mentor wrapped her other arm around his stomach, gloved fingers curling into his reclaimed clothing to keep him from wriggling away from her. "Do you think that's all there is? To have the ability to take what you want? There will always be someone faster, someone stronger, someone smarter. Especially in Myrken. So how do you stay alive, Elliot Brown?"
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Mon Oct 15, 2012 7:25 am

Oh, of course. She changed him in so many ways, but none of them involved how he thought. And why? Because he didn't think much about this at all. That was the problem. That was why they were here on this rooftop, and it was just starting to dawn on him. Yes she had his throat. Yes she had his attention in other ways. More than that, though, it was HER, and she had never spoken to him like this before. So his eyes were wide and his mind was open and he listened.

Even then, it was hard. Not WHAT a knight thought, but how. It was an important distinction and the wheels were turning but they were rusty things. One could think about things in different ways. She was building a foundation, finally, using those wheels and gears to lay down the bricks.

"That was.." He inhaled as much as he could, considering everything. "That was the whole point." He had wanted to fight back. He had wanted to be stronger. To rely on others less. To be less of a victim. To stay alive. Of course he hadn't wanted to take what he wanted then. That hadn't been a thought at all. Now the scale had slid and everything had changed. It was.. addictive. That freedom, that opportunity. It was a whole new world to a former farmboy. And since he decided to jump right in, he opened himself up for much more danger and much more need. "I don't know!" He finally exclaimed, not sure what he was supposed to tell her anymore.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Mon Oct 15, 2012 7:41 am

"Exactly."

Just as abruptly as he'd been caught in the snare of her arms, nestled up against a body that she'd worked hard to return to its former glory, he was released and shoved forward a couple of steps so he could turn around and see her. Solena was aware that many thought her to be overly indulgent with the boy. Yet, only they knew that her training had edges of harshness. That he'd spent days wearing bandages underneath his clothing where a quick spar had earned him a knife wound, or a fall had busted a rib. She had the potions to feed him to heal, but she had refused to allow him to become dependent on them.

"You don't know. You have learned to fight like a thief, but you still think like a Knight. You charge into things like a bull." Elven arms folded over that modest chest that he'd just had his back pressed up against. "You are not a bull anymore, Elliot. If you continue this behavior, you will get yourself killed."

He knew her well enough by now. He knew that underneath that harshness hid a layer of concern. If Solena didn't care, then she wouldn't even bother with this simple lesson of trying to make him think. She would simply allow him to blunder into a situation over his head, probably get himself killed, and likely laugh at his idiocy. Never once had she tried to hide what she was. She was not a nice person. She wasn't a good person, no matter what Milia had tried to tell her otherwise. But this amoral killer didn't want to see his death simply because she had been too lax with him.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Mon Oct 15, 2012 7:47 am

She worked him hard. His body had transformed from frame suited for strength, that could "carry the world," as Catch put it, to one that was lithe and sleek and balanced. That had not been easy. It had taken work and pain and worse, but Elliot was bull-headed. He kept coming back because he had no where else to be, because he had nothing else to learn. One skill led to the next and to the next and with each he learned, what he had believed in was chipped away as well, replaced, if not by a new mindset, then by the skills themselves and the possibilities they created for him.

He stared now, and for a moment, just a moment, there was a blush. He recovered quickly under the weight of her regard, her... disgruntled, disappointed regard. "This is about the mill, isn't it?" Did she care about him? He had seen her throughout her pregnancy. Yes, he thought she cared in her own way, but he also saw her react to OTHER things as well. He was not always alert, no, not to emotion and other people, but he also knew enough not to take her caring for granted.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Mon Oct 15, 2012 8:03 am

"Partly," the admission offered, and it was true. It was partly about the mill. It was also partly about the conversations that she'd had with others. Conversations that she'd seemingly blown off. After all, no one was going to tell her how to train her apprentice. Until she was certain that her disappointment wouldn't drive him off, she couldn't be the harsh taskmistress that everyone seemed to believe that she should be. That was a lesson that she'd learned in the past, and one that her pride wouldn't allow her to repeat.

"The mill is only an indication of where your training is weak," the elfling moved, each step carefully placed as she started to circle around him, studying him with that cool blue gaze. "You have learned to fight, and I believe you could kill if your hand was forced, but you lack preparation. You have become good at mimicry. You do what I show you, but when left to your own devices, you fall back on old habits." Once she'd circled him completely, Solena stopped and faced him again. "Your mind must become as nimble as your body. Nothing should take you by surprise, because you should be finding out every detail before you jump.

What did you learn from the mill?" This was more like her. Demanding answers from him rather than lecturing. In making him think, she had the patience of mountains, and she would stand there all day before allowing 'I don't know' to be an acceptable response to her question.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Mon Oct 15, 2012 8:21 am

The boy had not entirely burnt his bridges. He had reached out now and again to others, but at the same time, he had destroyed friendships before they could blossom. N'Vek. Cherny. Even Zilliah. When he attempted to make peace offerings, like with Tabitha, it rarely amounted to much. Add to that frustration with Nova and an inability to reconnect with Niall and he was rather isolated. Some of that was circumstance. Some of it was the thuggish exterior he was developing due to his newfound skills and hobbies. It meant, however, that he was quite alone with his mentor. He would not be leaving her, would not be leaving what she could still teach him and the freedom that it offered. That gave her quite a bit of leverage she may not have had earlier.

Where his training was weak. This was another leap at best. There was training other than his body, other than his reflexes, his skills. He hadn't thought about it that way and even six months ago he would have chafed at that, would have seen some danger in it, that he would change the way he thought, how he saw the world, as part of his training. Now though? Now, it didn't seem so bad. It seemed.. right somehow. He was lacking and it didn't matter what changed within him if it meant fixing it.

He just had to explain how, and he'd try while staring at her. What did he learn? "I wasn't desperate. Since I wasn't desperate, I shouldn't have gone with Zilliah. He's too unpredictable and I can't trust him. I thought.." Then he looked down, instantly embarrassed. "You don't mix what we do with any.." He was looking for a word and unable to find it. Instead he settled. "stupid reasons."
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Mon Oct 15, 2012 9:39 am

Even as he started to explain what he'd learned, and it was a good start, the imperious eyes of his mentor stared at him expectantly. He knew that Zilliah was a bad choice in compatriots. Good. The fae had his uses, but backup in this situation was not one of them. But that wasn't the only lesson that he should have learned. Patience wasn't always an ingrained trait for the elf. Sometimes, she had to actively invoke it. This was one of those times. She couldn't demand he begin to think, only to give him all of the answers.

"..that is an area we share with Knights," Solena corrected, voice gentling just a tad. "You would not see a Knight charge off without being certain he could trust his companions. We are even moreso." It wasn't entirely accurate, either. Knights often went off with people they couldn't fully trust, but Knights also had the strength to fend off an attack.

"Instinct gets you far, Elliot. It can make your body move before you even know you need to move. But that is not all there is. Zilliah aside, since you were not desperate, what could you have done to make such a trip successful?" He had to come to the realization himself. He had to understand and accept that he could minimize the blindness that he walked into a situation with. Was it perfect? Of course not. Not even Solena could have predicted what had happened to him. But she did know that acting on instinct alone without thought caused problems that were sometimes irreversible.
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Mon Oct 15, 2012 12:17 pm

There were a lot of knights. He knew what it was like to learn to hold the line, to charge en masse. It wasn't like this. The two of them, he and her could work in unison but they were trained to. With Zilliah it had been a maddened chaos, in part because the fae WANTED it to be. Still, she was demanding more and what could he do in the face of that. It wasn't like he hadn't looked back on it. His chin went up, some pride trickling through now that he was recovering from his hormonal excursion and moment of shock at her abrupt change of pace.

His voice was steady if a little slow. "It was supposed to be a casing. I wasn't going to go in until I watched it for a day or two, until I had a sense of who came in and who came out. I wouldn't have learned about the scarecrows, likely, but I would have had some sense of how everything was laid out in there." Then, far more sheepishly than before. "It's just when I got there, everything happened all at once."
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Elfling » Wed Oct 17, 2012 1:10 am

"Good. It was worth it if you learned something." It was as good as he was likely going to get. She was still displeased, but as it had helped his training, she wasn't displeased enough to send him packing. It certainly wasn't as if she hadn't made some mistakes while she was learning. At least he didn't get the response from her that she'd gotten from -her- Master. For years, she'd worn those scars from her ritual whippings as if they were trophies, until Tehridel had convinced her to let him remove them.

"Remember, as well.. if you need information, you can always pay another to get it for you," Solena advised, offering him a sly grin. "That way, if they get caught, you're not the one in trouble."
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Re: What a Difference a Year Makes

Postby Glenn » Wed Oct 17, 2012 1:38 am

Ah, there it was. Elliot Brown's first blank look of the conversation. And it was followed, quite brilliantly, by a "But." That one word, followed by a little stammering, followed by three steady blinks. He'd been following along so well too. But what? It was obvious, really. But he had WANTED to do it. He had wanted to rush through that mill and cause problems. He had WANTED to test himself against whatever was inside. He had WANTED to challenge himself and scale something different, something he hadn't done before. It hadn't been business. It had been personal. Just about everything he did was personal. Unprofessional. He couldn't say any of this to her. That would have been idiocy.

Instead he just stared, mentally scrambling. "I.." finally, almost desperately, breaking eye contact somehow. "should only do something if it is absolutely worth doing."
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