Partner

I am so sick. So sick I got sent home from work, not came home, got sent home. That doesn't happen very often. So I am a bit ... lets say out of it... and if there are mistakes let me know and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible.

This brings up a disturbing possibilty. If you think back to what the farms were doing with the Sidhe and then the conclusion of this and it's just like...

I'm surprised no one's come down from the heavens shooting lightning bolts from their eyes.

Read, Review and Enjoy.





It was several days after the meeting about Amados that Mari entered the apartment, file in hand and pinned Mik with a look, “Finally.” she said, “finally I got clearance to photograph a few of the pages and bring them in.”

“Photograph?”

“Amados’s diary.”

“Why Amdos diary need photographing?” Paw mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Paw had been napping more and more. As had a good deal of the rest of the tribe. Something about the middle of winter and would Mik please stop poking Paw to ask questions, he was having a nice dream about an old time tree.

Mari opened the folder and arrange the photographs on the counter, one after the other. Each was technically a photograph of a photograph. Someone had taken a picture of the original diary and written all over it in short hand, then Mari had taken a picture of that. On the pages were the scribbling and several symbols were underlined, circled or even with a question mark above them.

Mik bent closer to the page, peering at the symbols.

“These are on the wall,” Mik said, not believing it -or how high pitched his voice got while he tried to say that.

“They are multi… something something. I don’t know but the context gives them the meaning of a hundred things and none of the linguists know what to make of it. This one here says ‘my love, my life is very…’ and then the symbol here, they think it denotes strength, however-”

“Mortal. Is says mortal,” Paw made a symbol in the air with his hand that was similar to that on the page, “if’n Amdos’ lover was mortal, why would a shadow daemon give up his life to be found in the tomb? Not old, not sick. Healthy young thing.”

“What god would barter away a life?” Mik muttered.

“Ayato would,” Mari muttered, “none of the gods would actually barter away a life, not if they could help it. Especially a daemonic life, demons don’t have souls, per say and thus can’t be reborn or become gods. Until Ringe, of course, but he’s half god to start with and…”

“Rahl-ta used his shadow daemon often,” Paw muttered, pointing at another symbol, “that one looks like a chicken farting.”

“Wait, wait a minute, back up,” Mik put his hands in the air to stop them even as they tried to continue on. Once he had their attention he pointed to the symbol Paw had translated, “this means mortal?”

“Yesh.”

“So… if I put a line through that, like a few of the names on the wall have through them does that mean not mortal?”

Silence dominated the kitchen for a long moment before Mari and Paw both rushed to the living room. Mik blinked after them for a long moment before he carefully gathered up the photographs and followed them. In the living room, Mari was squinting at the wall and Paw was muttering to himself in Sidhe.

Mik pointed out the ending symbol of a few of the names near the top of the family tree, “This one here has Harella’s symbol and then this mortal symbol with a line slashing through it. Could it literally be Harella’s family tree? These,” he motioned downward, “are the true descendants of the mother of the gods?”

“But,” Paw said as if Mik had just said something rational but completely fucking stupid, “what’s that got to do with the speckled one?”

Mik looked at Paw. Just looked at him, trying to come up with the answer. And Paw blinked at Mik, looked back at the wall and said, “Ohhhhh.”

“Oh?” Mari asked, which almost had Mik hugging the woman because he had no idea what conclusion Paw came to.

“Not all children of gods become gods, some remain mortal. Neh,” Paw tapped two other names with the ‘not mortal’ symbol attached to them, “why not see this before? These two here, is not that part of Rahl and Tahl’s symbols? The core of them?”

“Might be,” Mari murmured, “but their father isn’t listed.”

“What if no father? What if they survived Shey-har’s madness because Shey-har not their father? Religions to east have virgin births all time.”

“Or,” Mik said, tapping the symbol between Harella’s and her children’s, “this symbol here denotes the father. Look, it’s different between the gods and this line here, that spreads out all down here. So let’s assume what we think about the gods is correct, because I’m pretty certain Rahl-ta looks like his father.”

“Oh yeah,” Paw muttered, seemingly annoyed.

“Then this symbol between them and Harella means they are born of Harella by Shey. They are Harella’s and like a side note of, oh, by the way, a male contributed and I will admit who he is.”

“Very Illuva, not Harella’s mood at all,” Mari muttered, “she loved Shey just the same as Shey loved her. They both had their affairs, Mik, before you bring that up, but they still loved each other very much. Rahl-ta and Tahl-ra represented the young mates and young lovers and Harella-shay and Shey-har represented the older, more mature lovers.”

“Yet she wouldn’t take his full name, his true name as her little,” Mik waved his hand, trying to come up with something to call the second name of the mated gods, “which to me says it is very much like here. But if it wasn’t Harella’s idea, then… who drew aside a Sidhe history keeper, knowing how Sidhe pass on history, and told them that this is very, very important? Who could have that power?”

Paw and Mari both stared at Mik.

“What?” he asked.

“There’s only a handful of powerful beings who have ever been in contact with the Sidhe enough to know about their history. Vera, Una and Ayato. Illuva, yes,” Mari said as Paw opened his mouth, “but this would have been before her time, in her time the area that this happened in was undergoing the change from forest to desert. It was no longer the lush, dense green that you recalled it as.”

“Vera?”

“An immortal like Una, she was blessed with beauty, intelligence and a sexual appetite to rival Rahl-ta’s. She is said to have a temple to the west, backed against the mounts, but,” Mari shrugged, “no priest line has any historical record of her existence. Of Una, of Ayato and Rava, of the very gods themselves, but Vera is a complete mystery to us. Ayato and Rava have spoken of her before, but that only tells us she exists, no where, when or if she’s still alive.”

“Then how do you know she’s immortal?” Mik muttered.

“Because Ayato and Rava mention through several different lifetimes that they have or are going to visit Vera. Usually to which Ayato would be upset and Rava would say something about him and Vera putting their past behind them already,” Mari responded, looking up and down the wall, “this symbol and this one and this one. This entire branch of this line, has similar symbol altered just slightly. A spiral with a line through it. Mean anything to you Paw?”

“If it did, I would have said something before hand, I only recognised that one on an off hand thing,” Paw muttered, trying to make the symbol in the air, “it doesn’t even translate properly.”

Paw tried starting from the outside and the inside. It was the sign starting from the inside that sent a shiver down Mik’s spine.

“I’ve seen that somewhere,” Mik said, handing Mari the photographs.

“’nd it was bad shiver time?” Paw asked Mik, “Mik father?”

“No. I don’t recall much of him,” Mik responded, searching the piles on the coffee table until he found the magazine Taln and Lillow’s pictures had been published in. He flipped through the images and dropped the magazine back on the table.

Mik crossed the room and went down the hall, retrieving Taln’s camera from the young man’s room. He turned it on and…

Skipped over a few private images.

The images were still saved on the memory of the camera, thankfully, and Mik skipped through the library quickly until he found the ones taken inside the barn where the Sidhe had been held. On the rafters, up above, where Mik had glanced once to look at the lights, was the symbol.

“Holy gods,” Mik muttered, turning the camera around for Paw and Mari to see, “It’s. He’s.”

“A descendant of Harella?” Mari asked


.