Aftermath

Wow, the underworld information, hinting and a fairly basic explanation of the difference between people and Sidhe. When Una pointed out that Ayan should join the troupe, as Ayan always does when he nears his sixteenth birthday, I told him he was crazy. But, wow. Does that kid get stuff done.

He's very much the kind of person who, once he realises he can, will ask you all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Not to set you off or embarass you but out of actual curiosity. Which probably makes it worse.

I almost made several mistakes through this that... would have been different from typos and grammar. Ouch

Read, Review and enjoy.





The next day was bright and beautiful with just enough of a breeze to cool the afternoon. Ayan sat between Una and Durth for the trip. The young man seemed very amused by something, the way Una spoke to Durth or the words. Durth saw nothing amusing about learning about the underworld and how souls came and went out of the seventeen hells.

“What happens if someone gets lost?” Ayan asked finally as he obviously tried not to laugh.

Una sighed, head turning towards Ayan for just a moment before the immortal focused on the road, “Souls can be lost in the underworld. But only processed souls can make it into the hells, they are tagged and either permitted entrance or dragged off to their specific hell. An unprocessed soul has memories still and cannot move on, only souls wetted by the well of souls, to cleanse their memories, can make it down below.”

“But there are those,” Ayan said in a tone that implied he was used to pointing out flaws, “who are sent to the seventeenth hell, where they live there for a hundred or a thousand years through torment and pain and then are sent back to the world fully knowing and recalling what they did to deserve such punishment and the punishment itself, so unprocessed souls can make it into the hells.”

“A door has to be wedged open and-”

“And if that door is wedged open and someone came stumbling in who was dazed and confused, why could they not walk through the open door and thusly be lost in the seventeen hells?” Ayan looked from Una to Durth, obviously pleased with himself.

“But he said it was not possible,” Durth responded sternly to Ayan.

“And if he told you,” Ayan’s head cocked to the side, “that it was impossible to fly, would you believe him?”

Una stiffened, “since when can you fly?” the immortal didn’t seem like the type of man who was easily surprised, but his voice came out strangled, “Illuva could fly but that was due to a very unique perspective of our world.”

“So you would say that flying is impossible for just any soul?” Ayan asked Una.

“Correct, that is what I would say.”

“I taught Mw’n how to fly.” Ayan said the name so fast Durth almost missed it.

“Muan?” Durth asked, trying to imitate the name. Both Una and Ayan looked at Durth expectantly, “I don’t know this person. I was just trying to say the name.”

“Mw’n,” Una said it flawlessly, “is not just any soul, he carries the blood of the gods in his veins, he can trace his decent back to Mother herself. Try again.”

“Ashun.”

“Genetic manipulation.”

“Father.” Una’s response was to look at Ayan, whatever the young man got out of it, he huffed and looked back at the road, “fine, not a good example. H’hu.”

“Child of Auhi and Essuan,” Una snapped, “that boy could probably waltz through the halls of the gods and no one would be the wiser.”

“I’ll teach Durth.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“See,” Ayan turned his attention to Durth, smiling all the while. Una, behind Ayan, went a scarlet colour, “to fly, you simply have to miss the ground.”

Raya wanted to destroy powers, not use them, not learn them, destroy them and those who knew of the powers. Durth directed his attention to the road, “I am not interested in learning to fly. There’d be no point to learning something that one can only use for this lifetime and then never again.”

“That’s exactly the point. Live like you’re dying,” Ayan muttered, sitting properly on the seat, “you two are worse than grandma and grandpa. Or Auntie. She’s always going on about how I shouldn’t be showing off my powers because it’s rude to the others. They ask to see what I can do, they want to know how I use my powers to learn for themselves and if I have control of the air, why not have a bit of fun.”

“Ah-ha!” Una cuffed Ayan upside the back of his head, “they aren’t flying, you are moving them about. That. That. Ayan. Oooohhhh.”

Ayan looked at Una then to Durth, “I’ve never made him so mad he’s lost his words before. Father has and Mw’n has but never me.”

“You’re not afraid of what he might do to you as punishment?”

“No,” Ayan scoffed, “Una is as harmless as a babe.”

Durth considered this information for several minutes before he chipped in, “whatever happened to you being raised virgin?” which was apparently poor timing on his part, for Una and Ayan had continued on with their conversation. Una made a choking sound and Ayan glared at Durth.

“Just because I was raised virgin doesn’t mean I am a virgin,” Ayan snapped, “and I’d thank you kindly to keep your nose in your own business.”

“I. I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?” Ayan snapped at him.

“I meant you seem somewhat harsh and… a bit of a smart ass to have been raised all airy and fluffy.” Durth looked at Una pleading for some kind of help on the subject.

“No.” Ayan shook his head, “I can be a bit of an airhead, I don’t know some things and I can’t fight, but it was more like… like…” the young man looked to Una, “uhm.”

“No one has ever told him no,” Una responded, “he was allowed to stay up as late as he wanted, to eat what he pleased. Which is how all Sidhe children are raised, but for people, that means he was raised virgin. If you tell him not to stick his hand in a fire, he wouldn’t understand what you meant and would likely do it.”

“I’m not so foolish as to put my hand into a fire,” Ayan muttered.

“You did once,” Una said quietly.

“I was four years old, I wanted to know what it felt like,” Ayan protested, “and I learned the first time.”

“What don’t you know about then? Things like slavery?”

“What is slavery?” Ayan’s full attention was suddenly on Durth, curious green eyes never leaving Durth’s face as the young man waited for an answer.

“It is the selling of a man or woman or child into servitude of another. The person sold has no rights and is worked to death, once their usefulness has passed, they are killed or sold to someone who can find another kind of use for them.”

“Does slavery hurt?”

“I. I suppose that would depend on the master one had,” Durth responded, “supposedly there are good masters, those that one prays purchases your lease because their slaves never go hungry nor want for food nor fear for the safety of the women and children.

“But,” he shrugged, “it’s just a story passed from one mouth to another. No one can even agree on the name. Some say a lord named Wern, others someone named Talen. There are some few that claim Mik himself is a lord.”

“How do you know Mik?” Ayan asked.

“Mik was ambassador to the Sidhe,” Durth watched as Ayan’s eyes grew wide, as the young man scooted just a little closer to him to hear better, “back before the world ended. He was a good man, almost everyone liked him but. Someone shot and killed him, that, they say, is what started it.”

“Started what?”

“The war,” Una responded, “between Sidhe, people and someone else, that ended the world.”

“War. What does this mean, war?”

“Bad things,” Una said quietly, “Killing Mik was, perhaps, not the beginning of the war, but it was the beginning of the out and out violence of between the species. The attack on him was not seen as an attack on the ambassador so much as an attack on the Sidhe themselves. The attack on Whisper was excusable, the people hadn’t had a Whisper in hundreds of years. Idiots can be forgiven, but attacking the mate of Whisper after Whisper had proven himself capable of handling an attack.”

“What about the place where Mw’n came from though?”

“No, that was a tribal problem and settled as such. Sidhe work as tribes, as large family groups. They don’t much care about those Sidhe in other tribes, unless that Sidhe could join the tribe in question. Mw’n would not care about Ashun’s brother because he cannot contribute to Mw’n children or their children, but Mw’n cares about you because you are part of his family. Your involvement with the tribe will further the possibility of his children surviving.”

“It doesn’t matter if the species as a whole survives, so long as Mw’n’s blood does.”

“So long as the strongest survives. You’ve heard about good blood and bad blood. It’s all breeding. They are looking for the way to breed something that could survive, always trying to perfect their immune systems or social skills or powers.”

“Well.” Ayan frowned, “what about you an Durth then? Durth is not part of your tribe, do you care about him?”

“Yes, but I am neither people, nor Sidhe.”

“But, you are not part of Durth’s tribe and he cares about you. No?” Ayan blinked at Durth.

“I do care about Una’s investment in my existence,” Durth said, “I am interested him and curious about his sexual interest in me and… I may find him attractive.”

“If someone tried to kill Una, would you step in to save him?”

“Yes. But would a Sidhe not do the same for another Sidhe about to be killed?” Durth asked.

“Of course, but that Sidhe who was saved then becomes a part of the saviour’s tribe,” Ayan looked between the two men, “you two could save one another and then part, never crossing paths again. People are so strange. You,” Ayan looked at Durth, “have the capability of destroying the people or saving them yet… none of you seems to know what to do and simply stumble about blindly in the night.”

Ayan turned his attention to the road, frown deepening as he went off into thought. Una glanced at Durth, a small smile dancing over his lips. Durth smiled kindly back at Una then looked away. He was acutely aware of the young man between them, he was even more aware of his desire to touch Una.

“Would you two just kiss already?” Ayan growled, “it’s impossible to think with you two both doing that.”

“What?” Durth squeaked as Una protested, “we can’t even touch each other!”

“Here,” Ayan stood on the little lip where their feet sat and slid across Durth’s lap, tight little ass grazing just the wrong way, before he motioned for Durth to scoot over. Durth shifted towards Una and found Ayan pressed right up against his leg. The young man gave Durth a pointed look so Durth shifted further down, ending up with his leg pressed against Una’s instead of Ayan’s.

Una blushed just a little as he leaned forward and turned his head towards Ayan. The young man shrugged and looked away. Durth cleared his throat and looked between the two before he turned his attention to Una. The immortal’s hand drifted from the reins and to Durth’s leg. Durth slid his hand overtop of Una’s and entwined their fingers. It was comfortable, it was right. Durth smiled at Una and leaned his head towards the immortal. Una, in turn, leaned in and pressed his lips against Durth’s. A lingering merging of their lips before Una pulled away and sighed out, lips curling upward.

“There, Ayan, are you satisfied?”

“Very,” Ayan responded, “I keep telling my father to kiss Mw’n but father never listens. Oh, tell me about rape.”

“Why rape?” Durth choked out.

Una sighed, “because he knows the word, because he knows it is bad but does not understand why it is bad. Because his father was raped.”

“So. What is rape?” Ayan asked again.

Durth braced himself for a very long, very painful conversation.


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