Children of Gods and Fools

Twenty-four years later….

Sore. Oh so very sore. The lithe body wiggled sluggishly on top of the small bed of cloth and straw, trying to find a comfortable spot for his sore back to rest on. Rabbit barely survived the trip from town to his uncle’s and aunt’s little cabin at the bottom of a very steep hill. He was too drunk at the time to have remembered to go down slowly and ended up tumbling down like a log, spraining his wrist in the process.

Someone, his uncle no doubt, must have find him in the cold dark and brought him inside. The went on undressing him down to just a undershirt and breeches and tended to his wrist, and a few other things that had gotten bruised when he rolled down the long hill. The freckled face man was going to get an earful as well a few good smacks upside the head, plus sprained wrist or not, will be put to work just as soon the little lady of the home wakes up.

For now, he was going to sleep as long as he could while he can. Just as soon his bladder was empty. With a grunt and a grumble, Rabbit stood up and pulled on his ill-fitted boots that he ‘borrowed’ from an angry husband that came home a wee bit too early. The boots were defiantly made for a much bigger man (and the original owner was!) for he had room for two more feet in each boot. He didn’t bother with the straps and buttons since he planned on getting rid of the damn things quickly after his little visit to the outhouse.

It was slow going, his brain was throbbing and pounding inside his skull and he kept tripping all over his boots but when the cold air hit his poorly dressed body, all was forgotten when he rushed to the little wooden building in order to get away from the cold fall wind. He lost the boots somewhere on the way and he just picked them up and carried them back in with him on his way back.

Voices stopped him from entering his little hole in the wall. His uncle was awake; his strong but old raspy voice was trying to whisper in the kitchen, mindful of the still sleeping wife and farmhands that lived in the house with them. The second voice was soft and angelic but not entirely unfamiliar. Like he heard it before but couldn’t remember the where he had heard it.

The young brunet, overfilled with curiosity, slowly tipped toed to the kitchen, careful to hide behind the door post so he would remain unseen. He spotted the fat lazy good-for nothing housecat on the shelf facing him. Knowing that it will only make his head hurt more afterwards, Rabbit focused on the dim-lidded yellow eyes of the old tabby, He forced the cat to allow him to see through her eyes, promising cream and scrap of bacon for her troubles. His own eyes faded from doe-brown to milky white as the images formed.

Uncle Thomas was hunching over a mug of heated tea as he sat across from a cloaked figure that paid no attention to the mug of tea that sat beside a long-fingered pale hand. A large garnet ring caught the little thief’s attention till his name had been said.

“Rabbit? He came back late last night. Apparently, he and some of his ‘friends’ spent the night drinking. I found the damn idiot out back with a nearly broken wrist and bruised everything else and stinking like a drunken pig.” The man in question winced at the disappointment that the old mage held in his voice.

Rabbit was the old man’s only chance at a son and he messed it up by taking up less then noble habits over the years. His backside had seen enough snitches and belts to tell what kind of wood or leather that was used. The brunet could never tell his caretakers that he used the Magic in his work as a thief. That would surly break their hearts to know that their lessons were being used to steal little trinkets from the rich to the not so rich.

“I see. “ The cloaked figure looked up and turned to stare at the cat, at him. The young thief felt his breath quicken and quickly detached his mind from the old tabby. His eyes were closed as the milky color darkens back to the usual doe-brown color.

When they re-opened, there stood a silvery woman with a thoughtful look in her almond sharp eyes before them. He took a step back, feeling his personal space being violated. A soft but firm hand reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to be unable to move his face as those thoughtful owlish eyes looked into his.

“You have her eyes.” The woman muttered and then chuckled lightly as a long finger brushed across his nose, touching the little dots of faded brown upon the pale skin. “These will be his downfall.”

“Excuse me?” His head was pounding even worse now and just wanted to get to bed. This woman was not making anything better by talking in riddles.

“You will see in due time.” She smiled gently as her finger finally left his face. “Now, go to bed. This is grown folk talk.” Rabbit was about to protest that he was old enough to hear what was being said about him but a light touch on his forehead by the soft pads of two fingertips from the silvery woman and he knew nothing more.

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1…. 2…

“Ah, Lady Viviane.” She grew a small smile on her silver-pale face as she stopped and allowed the graying centaur to catch up in the hallway that was buzzing with life.

“Nikhail.” The Lady turned slightly and nodded in greeting with her servant and closest friend. Whenever she returns from a visit out in the world outside her mountains, it doesn’t take very long for the aging centaur to find her out.

This was a normal routine for them both for the past twenty years, ever since young Israfel was removed from these stone walls to be with his teacher and guardian. Nikhail had taken to the young man from the very minute that the child had first smile at him. It broke his heart when he had to give up his little wobbling shadow. That was a sad day for all that dwell within the mountains of Avalon.

“How was your visit? Enjoyable, I hope.” He nodded and smiled back in greeting as they resumed walking in the hallway. Careful to dodge busy priests and priestess, nymphs, satyrs, and other creatures that came to the mountains to study as they walked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I have little enjoyment these days thanks to Mordon and her son, Airic.” Then she grinned. “He’s doing fine by the way. Still charming both ladies and lads and earning his title as thief-mage.” The centaur let out a deep chuckle at this news.” And the freckles that you used to call ‘cookie-crumbs’ have yet to fade. Making him even more charming. And he is learning new tricks ever day.”

“And you gave him my birthday gift to him? I spent long hours at the forge, long nights and days detailing-“

She chuckled as she held her hand up to stop him. Everyone within hearing distance was easy prey to his proud talks whenever he made a new gift for his would have been son. Each tale was heard at least a dozen time within a month.

“Yes, I placed the daggers that you made on his belt so Israfel would see them and hopefully won’t have to use them more then a few times.” The Lady placed a soft hand on the wool-covered shoulder and smiled warmly. “He even still has that lovely necklace that you made for him, all those years ago.”

That made the old horse-man day as his broad smile glowed on his wrinkled dark face.
“I need to speak with Sister Nimue.” The silver lady sighed as business showed its ugly head. “It is time for her to go the mainland and marry Sir Balin. His majesty brought it up during the meetings. “

The old centaur nodded in understanding. His own children have been used in the same way, as pawns in keeping the peace among the tribes. It was a sad thing to do; using other people’s lives but sometimes it had to be done for the sake of balance.

“The journey that Sister Nimue must take will also be the one that Young Israfel must take as well. Time for plans is near.” She spoke almost to herself, as things unfold in her mind.

Something or more likely, someone, were trying to enter the Lady’s mind, trying see her thoughts. She immediately set up blockers over her mind, keeping her own set of pawns and strategies a secret from the other player.

Mordon had started the game when she sent her son, Airic out with the intent in destroying the land, pushing her and the king to act. It was time for Viviane to make her move.
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Kay, it's poll time. Which is better for a uke-ish char? Manotaur (half-man/bull) or half-man/unicorn (If that group have a name, for the name of all things Yaoi, TELL ME!!!!) I can't decide between the two and it's important for the story farther down the line. (I;m not going do spoilers for my own story. So that's just a big hint) And no, the little guy is not for either of the brothers (Airic and Isfarel) I have incest for a reason people and it wasn't for the Mordon/the king in the prolog. GO REVIEW NOW!