Aftermath

I was going to include the night's entertainment in with this but then I began suspecting that Ayan is doing to Durth what the Sidhe did to their partners and rather than have him walk outside in one fluid moment, as Ayan is acting very merry in a creepy way, I figured I'd give him an end scene to compose himself.

Two updates in one night is so... weird after so long with like one a week.

Read, Review and Enjoy.

EDITED: for the removal of a word that wasn't supposed to be there.






Raya left with Una and Ayan both watching him leave. Ayan seemed to be trying very hard to glare, which only made the young man seem comical. Una had his hat drawn so far down over his face that the tip of his nose was hardly visible.

“What’s with the…” Durth motioned to Una’s hat.

“To most folk, the colour of my eyes,” Una pulled his hat off and huffed out a breath, “is more than enough reason to call me a daemon and to kill me. The folk of the village will, for the most part, tolerate the troupe and its odd members, however, until the sun sets I must keep my hat down and over my eyes. At night I can claim they are blue or even gray.”

“Miracle of shadows and mirrors and smoke,” Durth muttered.

“You were out two days, you should eat something.”

“And wash.”

“I washed you while you slept,” Ayan said quietly a moment before Una went bright red. Durth didn’t exactly feel dirty at the idea of Ayan washing him, but it was a bit creepy to know he had been so gone that being washed hadn’t awoken him.

“Ah,” was all he could manage to get out, “tell me,” because he had to ask. Una knew everything, he must know how to do that… “how do you make a mortal, immortal?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Una muttered, one eyebrow raising just slightly, “I’ve known one or two folk who have prolonged their lives. One who thought,” the immortal’s eyebrows drew down, lips pressed together just slightly. Did Una know how expressive he was without the hat? “he was immortal but died of a disease instead. Prolonging a life takes power and making oneself almost immortal. Well. It was a one time thing and let’s just say he hadn’t been paying attention at the time.”

“It’s not possible,” Ayan muttered from behind Una, “the timeline and physics of the entire thing is improbable and the laws of nature and gravity wouldn’t allow you to spin a person fast enough to simulate the core gravity of Mother, thereby creating an immortal or simply squashing a person. Of course the probability of squashing a person is so high that succeeding in creating an immortal from a mortal being is like one in million to the millionth power.”

Durth’s mouth dropped open as Una frowned and turned to Ayan as if not believing what he was hearing.

“I’m pretty certain that numbers don’t go that high,” Ayan muttered, biting the tip of his index finger before he looked down at his feet and began muttering mathematics to himself.

“He will be at it for hours.” Una sighed, motioning for Durth to stand.

Durth bent his head to the side and studied Ayan, “that can’t be healthy.”

“Like father, like son. As well as like his mother,” Una’s voice dropped at the last part, “come, we need to get you out and adjusted to the village before the performance starts. Some of my entertainers need everyone to be of a mood and you cannot be of the mood if you have no idea where you are or how you are.”

“Where I am or… how…?” Durth slid his feet off of the bed and looked about for a pair of boots.

“Under the bed, under, under,” Una sounded more exasperated as Durth looked under his feet, confused, “there, see, the lace is right. There you go. Your boots, you do at least recognise them, don’t you?”

They were such a strange manufacture. Some sort of post end of the world rubber sole sewn into soft deer hide with leather strips for laces. Whoever had designed such a thing was ingenious. Older world sole protection with the newer, more accommodating upper… bit. Whatever that thing on a shoe was called.

“Durth? You’ve been staring at your boot for ten whole minutes.”

“Oh, uhm, must have whacked my head or I’m still feeling off or something,” Durth muttered, bending to slip the boot onto his foot and lace it up.

“Numbers do go that high!” Ayan looked up and grinned, “If we put everyone from the old world through the process forty-thousand times, we just might get one that lives.”

“So glad you are back with us, Ayan.” Una said.

Someone threw open the door of the trailer and stuck his head inside, “Una, come quick, she’s throwing another fit. Says someone’s going to try to murder her.”

“Ayan, show Durth about,” Una said before turning to the man and talking as he left the trailer, “did you remember to dose her tea this morning? You know if you don’t dose her tea when we come here…” and the door shut.

Ayan blinked at Durth. The look made Durth uneasy so he bent and laced up his other boot. When Durth stood the young man was standing right there, practically on his feet.

“It’s possible.”

“That’s…” Durth said as if he was talking to a child, “what you just said, it’s just highly improbable.”

“Add a god to the mix,” Ayan’s head moved from side to side, “what do you get?”

“A bloody mess, because we’ve squashed all their followers forty-hundred times.”

“Forty-thousand,” Ayan corrected, “but besides that, you have the power that created the people themselves. With enough of an incentive, with enough power. One could do it, but one would have to be quite powerful to do that. How powerful I wonder.”

“What happens when a people with power dies?”

“Their power is released into the air,” Ayan made a hand motion to the side waggingly his fingers as he moved it away from him, “where anyone with the know how can collect it. They say that if a child is born with power and within moments of its first breath, someone with power is killed nearby, then the child instinctually absorbs the power of the dead person.”

“That’s creepy.”

“That’s what I said,” Ayan grinned at Durth, “obviously the child doesn’t absorb the power of the dead person, if it did, it would explode.”

“Explode?”

“Yeah. Like when you add salt to a snail.”

“Snails explode when you add salt to them?”

“Wait. I don’t think it was salt we put on it,” Ayan shrugged, “father said we were lucky we didn’t miscalculate the chemical compounds, least we explode our hands off. Come on.”

Like he wanted to get close to someone who had the capability to make snails -and people apparently- explode. Durth swallowed and stepped around Ayan, towards the door.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Ayan said innocently, “I could explode you with my mind easier than I can with a chemical compound.”

Durth’s foot caught on something and he stumbled, whacking his head on the floor. He groaned and covered his head with his arms, “that does not make it better!”


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