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Deth and Lee


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The silent brothers do not call themselves silent because they do not speak, Lee. We, the people, started calling them that, and they never cared enough to make us stop. They are called 'silent' because the try not to get involved with 'worldly affairs.' they are men-and women-who enjoy keeping to themselves, only getting involved if it puts the nature, or greater good, at risk. If they catch word from their brothers miles away that something is threatening what they believe needs protecting, then they might lift a finger to help. First, they have to spend countless hours consulting the stars, the wind, the trees, and their inner thoughts, as well as the 'Elder Circle'-A group of men and women who've been working with them the longest...” Deth ignored her comment on knowing what elders were “...to see if they can find enough reason for anyone to leave in hopes to help.

Mostly, they only act if they believe they can stop it. They do not believe in wasting anything, not even a moment of thought. So time, energy, and everything else, is always put to a purpose, be it selfish, or less. Mostly less, but...” Deth stopped there, rubbing his face. It was late, and while they should have been sleeping, neither seemed willing to actually do so. Harley's mind was abuzz with questions that needed answers, and answers that needed questions, and Deth just happened to be the only person around.

So,” She pursed her lips for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chin as she thought carefully over her next question. Only wanting to ask ones that would give answers instead of more questions. She felt like a young child next to Deth, and didn't want to annoy or pester her volunteer guide. “What has it to do with Malcome?” She finally settled on, unable to find anything better.

Some people think that Malcome visited the Silent Brothers, and that's when he found out not only about his mother's blood, but also the Drygon's Curse.” Deth stretched out his legs, laying back against the earth. “Of course, there isn't any proof. And they wouldn't likely tell us left or right. This very well could be a wasted trip on our part- but, unlike the Brothers, we aren't afraid to give something even if we don't get what we want.”

Harley nodded, staring into the fire over folded arms. Worry causing lines to form between her brows. Deth watched her for a moment, then sighed. “Even if they don't tell us about Malcome, they may still have useful information about the Drygon's. We may even find an idea as to why they took your sister.”

They being the Drygons, great warriors from another land. Ones who had slowly migrated over the years, as Deth explained the night before. Harley kept quiet a moment, neither she, nor Deth could think of anything to say. Deth, looking more rugged than ever, was about to tell Harley to sleep. They had a long trip a head, and she already slowed him down by at least a day- better make that half, she wasn't that bad. But her blue eyes, shimmering in the fire light, caught his.

What do you know about Malcome?” There was an edge to her tone, but Deth didn't pay it much heed. He just gave an almost shrug, sighing as he answered.

I know his father ran the village before Joson took over. That his mother held both Drygon, and Gypsy- from Hincloncg, up east...”

What?” Harley didn't know if she wanted to laugh, or be amazed at the sound he made.

Which part?” Deth cocked a brow, knowing the word that had stumped her, but wanting to see if she could mimic him.

Hinclonic-gah?”

Hi. Clon. ca. j.”

Oh, that, yeah...” Sarcasm laced her voice as she shrugged off his words.

Continuing...” He chuckled. “Mosain is Malcome's cousin, so she shares a bit of his blood- through her father's side. When Malcome's father died, he expected to take over, but the sword, you could say, was passed to Joson, the son of the deputy, and Malcome's step-brother. Malcome was asked to be deputy. Which he did not like, but stood for. Until Joson and Mosain announced they were with child. Malcome left. No one was really sure why, but all assume he was jealous of his step-brother. Expect Joson, who swears it was something else, but he doesn't know what.

He was said to travel a few years, and then found his way to the Brother's, who gave him a bed to rest in in exchange for work. From there, the story gets watered down. No one knows if he was able to talk himself up to the brothers- not an easy task, and Malcome wasn't very charming. Or if he did something that made the Brothers see him as worthy. But he may have been allowed access to their Library- housing books written by the brothers, or collected from Tara.” Deth's eyes sparked at the mention of the Library, and Harley could understand. She had learned Deth to be a man who embraced knowledge, who preferred knowing, to assuming. If the Library was as good as legend held, there would be books from every era, both Taren and Inquillium, and it would be lovely to see. “If he did get a hold of the books, then it's very likely he has learned of the secrets forgotten over time. But, that's a big if. Again, he wasn't charming, and the Brother's are not likely to let anyone into their fortress.”

How are we supposed to talk to them? What's to stop them from assuming we're a waste of time?”

For a start, they are sworn to protect, or help, those in need. Therefore, if we show up, tired, worn and hungry from our trip, they will offer us food and shelter for the night. Probably in return of something. You will need to mind yourself. Not because you are a woman, but because they see people's value from what they have done. Not what they will do. Because I served our country here, and have helped them out on a couple of occasions, they will be more open to me.”

So, if I'm not accused of being worthless for my gender, my age is held against me?”

No. Just your life.” Deth shrugged, keeping his eyes on the flame to keep from looking at her.

Well, slap.”

No. Lee, I don't... Okay, you spent your whole life in Tara, another world were children no longer do as much as was once expected of them. Because you have nothing 'honorable', in their minds, to your name, then you are no better than the oxen that till their fields. Again, in their minds.” He held up his hands in mock defeat. Trying not to laugh at her gawking face.

“Maybe it'd be best if I didn't go...” She sighed, turning to look into the forest.

Why?”

Because I'm likely to blow the whole thing out of the water when I lose my temper at them sniffing at me.”

Sniffing? Really? What are they, dogs?”

Sounds like it...”

They'll likely ignore you. If they offer you something, take it modestly. Graciously- well, nicely.” He corrected, knowing she would go over board with the gracious thing. “If they speak to you, try to answer them as quickly, and clearly as possible. The only thing I ask you not to do, and this is just to better our chances of actually finding something out, don't bring up Malcome.”

So, basically, better seen than heard, but if at all possible, stay out of sight?”

This is going to be a long week.” Deth rubbed his face again.

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A Week Later:

“They sailed in from the west, spending several months- if not a couple years- at sea. We aren't really sure where they came from, land wise, but we know it was a good ride for them.

“By the time they reached our shore, they were beaten, hungry, half dead, and pity was taken upon them by the nearest settlement.

“They were welcomed, feed, healed and treated as guest. Soon, as they grew stronger, they took up jobs and lives. Some set out for home, others stayed.

“Those who left told their people of the land they had seen, and the kindness, and strength of the people. And soon more sailed for our shores. A mix of people now, the west was unsure how to deal with it, but they saw no real danger.

“It wouldn't be for nearly fifty years that any real trouble started. As these strangers from a strange land were taught our history, and shared their own, old lore and wives tales were mixed mixed in. A single one stood out among these. That dragons had once roamed the world, and that they could morph into humanoid appearances. That a battle broke out between them and the Gypsies, who found a way to curse them. Strip them of their beastly powers, but only when they were in human form. And only if they were tricked into making love, not lust, to a true human.

“The strangers had an old belief that they were decedents to great power that could fly, breath fire, or ice, or even pure poison. That their ancestors had been tricked into staying as humans, and could no longer remember how to connect to the beast inside.

“After hearing this story, they were sure that it was this land that had stripped them of their natural rights and they grew vengeful.”

“Do you believe it?” Lee asked, raising her eyes up to search his face. Old, tired, and yet full of life. She couldn't help the smile that tightened her checks, lifting only one corner of her lips.

His light gaze shifted from the fire, crackling softly in it's place along the wall, to look into her eyes.

“No.” He said simply. It didn't surprise Harley, actually, the surprise was that she knew he would say that. Deth wasn't the type to believe in stories like this, not without some sort of proof he could see with his own two eyes. Could read and place facts to. He shifted in his sear, getting a better position. “No, I don't. And I'll tell you why. Gypsies do not hold any real... Do you have to write everything down?” He broke of with slight annoyance.

“What?” She hadn't even realized she had picked her pen up again, capturing his words as smoothly as he spoke them. “Oh, come on! This is good shit!”

“Fine.” He signed, annoyance giving way to amusement as she again returned to the small notebook.

“Kay, go on.” She glanced at him when she'd caught up.

“As I was saying... Should I speak slowly so you've time to write and listen?”

“Yes, please.” A smile graced her face and Deth chuckled to himself.

“Gypsies don't have the powers for that, nor were they bothered, as a whole race, by the Dragons. It was the dragons who cursed themselves.” He went on when she seemed confused. “A dragon cannot stay in human form for long, at least not a full blood dragon. Like we cannot stay in our animal form for long. We lose ourselves, our mindsets, to that of the being we've become.”

“I thought dragons and humans had basically the same mindset, though..?”
“We may think alike, but... Grigor.” He broke off and looked to the door way, Harley also paused, rolling over to look at him.

“Hi,” She smiled as he entered the room.”

“Sorry, heard the story and was... interested.” Standing in the doorway, he looked like a statue almost. His head leaning against the frame, dark curls pulled back into a leather thong at the nape of his neck, allowing the fire to catch in his eyes just as it had done Deth's moments before.

“Well, take a seat, you may be able to help here.” Deth nodded towards the blankets and pillows that littered the living area of his home. It had been a week since they had visited the Silent Brothers, and a month since Harley had stumbled into Deth in the woods. While Deth had always thought himself a loner, he was enjoying the company of the pair before him. “Just excuse Harley, she's decided she wants to keep a journal of everything.”

“But there are so many stories to capture! And with the Silent Brother's hogging all the good books to themselves...” She trailed off, correcting her spelling as she waited for him to go on.

“Ah, so she's recording our little adventure here.” Grigor nodded, plopping down next to her. “Someone needs to. Else we'll have rumors and myths floating around like crazy.”

“Just so long as the Brother's got get their greedy little hands on it for another hundred years, I'll be happy.”

“What do you have against the Brothers?”

“She's annoyed because of how they treated her.”

“No. They treated me fine. I'm annoyed because knowledge shouldn't be locked away for only 'approved' eyes to see. At least, not all knowledge. They should open a library, or school house, and teach from the text they have.”

But then they wouldn't be Silent brother's.”

They could be the Brother's of Knowledge.” Harley snorted, “But, I would like to continue with the story please- er, eh, whatever you want to call what you're telling.”

Where were we?” Deth popped his knuckles, leaning back in his chair.

Mindset differences.”

Ah, okay. So, while we may think a like, we still house plenty of differences. Grigor, feel free to correct me at any point. Now, while humans are known to be greedy, dragons are usually three times worse. They can't always help themselves around gold and jewels or something they deep worthy of hording. They are more likely to kill to get what they want, and become so blinded by the greed that they barely pay attention to whom they are killing.

They take mates and raise families, and often are far more committed to it than a lot of humans are. But aging is so much stranger. Their bodies may take human life times to reach maturity, while they minds follow a smoother course. By the age of five, they are holding intellectual conversations, spitting out riddles without much of a thought, and know better math than most humans.” Deth paused and looked the Grigor, who shrugged.

Being only half, I don't really know what in me is human and what is dragon thoughts.” He looked to the fire. “I know that the greed is there, but it isn't limited to riches of value through trade alone. It can be anything from an oddly colored leaf, to a certain location at a certain time of day, to a person. But, yes, the killing for it is true.”

And considering you're about ten years old and look twenty and act thirty, I'm just going to say yes on the aging thing.” Harley added, tapping her chin with the pen as she looked him over.

Neither of the younger ones noticed Deth's frown, shuffling through thoughts until he realized why the boys last sentence worried him. But it wasn't the last sentence alone. It was that coupled with the words before it. To a person. He had grown attached enough to a person who want to kill for them? Was that what he was saying?

Deth? Deth? Tony?” Harley snapped him back to the cottage's living room, her own face mirroring the worry, but for a completely different reason.

Sorry, what'd I miss?” He tried to relax his face, but found it difficult.

Nothing,” Harley whispered, shaking her head. “It's getting late, you wanna finish later?”

I think that would be best, yes.” After all, tomorrow they were planning to go to Tara. Harley needed to check in with her mother and make sure Luke made it home safely, while Deth had a couple friends he wanted to seek out. He would at least need his strength for the trip. “And you've your notes, so we'll know where to pick up later.” He stood and stretched. Wondering for a moment if he should camp out in the living area, send Harley to his bed instead. Keep distance between the younger two for the night.

Harley wouldn't agree to it, and he didn't feel like being called old again. Besides, if he's thoughts were even close to being true, then he doubted Grigor would make any move. And Harley likely wouldn't agree to it- not here anyway. Please, he begged silently, not here.

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A While Later

 

Deth sat in his cottage, going over old journals. Pages of little notes, memories to keep long after his mind has glossed them over. Leaving the true story behind, instead of the rumors he assumed would follow his disappearance. Even know, knowing that no one truly thought him a traitor, murderer, or a bringer of death, he still held tight to the shame the had long ago clouded over his head. Keeping him holed up in the woods for around two decades.

The task at hand, he reminded himself, wasn't the feelings that went with the stories before him. But the stories themselves. How was he supposed to get a true journal together if he couldn't even get these loose leafs in order. Dates had been stamped upon most of them, scribbled unceremoniously in a corner- or wherever a blank space was left. Some he would have to go by pure memory of the event. Had he found the bear tracks before or after Tod cut himself on the thick thorns? Had Messalina visited first on the eve of summer, or autumn?

At least he knew any that referred to Harley were well after most of the others, but that didn't help with must else.

He paced his living room, the largest room in his small cottage. Stepping over blankets of fur and pillows of goose down. Pulling books from the shelves built by his own hand of oak and pine. Setting them back in the wrong area in his thoughtful browse. Harley would come through and fix it later. Even when she protested, she seemed to enjoy it. A chance to look through his books, reading random bits to hound him over later. He shook his head and went to put a book back on the shelf. He had thought it was one of his old journals, but it was one that was left in the cottage by whomever lived there before.

His eye caught on the corner of a note, it must have fallen when he moved a book on the higher shelf. Reaching back, he pulled it free, a splitter of pine slipping unnoticed into the soft skin on the upper side of his hand.

 

The day was hot, and would unmercifully so if not for the swift breeze that carries the sea through the trees. Tod and I have been seeking out fresh berries, maybe a squirrel or two. Something for dinner other than left over stew. That's when she turned up. We had just reached the top of mushroom hill, as I've grown to call it, when this little child, no older than twelve, appeared. Running as though she were being followed. Stumbling and tripping over nothing if not her own feet.

Her dress was strange, but I've learned not to question the strange clothes of others- they seem to think my own is also strange. She saw me before I could make my presence known, and froze. Fear clear across her pale face. Her hair caught in the wind, black as the panthers that often hitched through the area. Just past her shoulders. And familiar.

I called a greeting, was she in trouble?

No. She replied, but hesitated. That told me she was, that, and the fact she kept looking behind her.

I knew she would be weary of any help I offered, and would have been worried if she was not, but I still offered if she needed.

“I am looking for the Tree.” She said, blue eyes locking on mine for a moment long enough to get the meaning behind her words. It was strange, yes. And odd.

Clearly this child had no idea what she was getting herself into. The Tree was a dangerous place, protected by spirits both living, and dead. While I'm not often one to believe such rumors and strange beliefs, I knew well enough not to doubt much when it came to the tree. This Tree.

“The Tree is at the heart of the Southern woods. A day and a half's journey from this point west.”

“Which way is west?” She frowned, then pulled off the bag slung across her shoulder and began shifting through it. Pulling a compass from a pocket.

“Why are you after the Tree?”

“I... Well, I don't know.”

This was strange, even beyond her clothes and speech. The cupped thing in her hands seemed to annoy her and she stuffed it back into her pack. Asking again which way west was.

A yell was heard from north-east, behind her, and she jumped. Pleading for directions.

“You'll never keep on track if you don't already know.” I tried to explain. Tod appearing behind me to snort in my ear. Danger. “Who is after you? Why?”

“I don't know who they are, they think I took something from them and I didn't. I just need to find the Tree, please.”

“If you didn't take anything from them, why not let them search you?”

“They won't believe me- they don't believe me.”

Look, I don't know what you've done- or haven't. Doesn't matter. But you aren't going to find the Tree if you can't find the West. And, furthermore. The Tree isn't really the kind of place a child runs off to just to escape a group of rogues who think you've taken something. So, unless you have another plan, how about you tell me just what's going on and I'll see what I can do to...”

And from over the second hill a voice could be heard, followed by the appearance of something I didn't expect to see. A Drygon. That's who she was running from, which meant her story was just as likely true as before. The girl panicked and took off before I could stop her. Heading, surprisingly, west.

I thought about going home, forgetting about it, but, as I've proven time and time again, I've a soft spoke for children. Tod and I have been tracking her for half a day. She moves swiftly for such an unbalanced thing.

 

Standing in the middle of the room now, amidst the blankets, pillows, and books. Before a fire smoldering in it's place along the wall, Deth stared at the note.

He never did find the girl, the path had gone cold by nightfall. He and Tod searched most the next day, even went as far as the circle of blue pine. But Deth wouldn't go near the Tree. Not for several more years.

“How's it going?” Harley asked, leaning against the door frame. Her wild curls tamed into a braid that sat on her left shoulder, her blue eyes watching him thoughtfully. Eying the note in his hands. When he turned to look at her, she smiled gently. “Slowly, huh?”

“You've no idea.” Deth sighed, running his free hand through his hair. What time was it anyway? How long had he been at it? Probly most the day...

“Dinner's almost done.”

“That time already?”

“Yup. You've been in here reminiscing most the day.” She pushed off the frame and walked into the room, letting her fingers brush against the back of his chair as her eyes looked over the pile of notes.

“Lee...” Deth knew she was dying to get her hands, and eyes on the notes. Which had him both flattered, and a little put off. This was his life here. Must like the ones upon the shelves and within the walls of the Brother's library. But, unlike those, he was still living. And there were several things about his history he didn't much like the idea of her know. Privet things that he meant to keep for himself, selfishly. Though, he fought with himself on the selfish bit. Was it really selfish to want to keep the memories of his wife and child to himself? That he didn't want the sympathy that would surely awake within Harley as soon as her eyes passed over the words.

“Oh, relax. I won't read them without permission.” She rolled her eyes, and the shadow that over fell them told him that this promise of word held a condition. That he either not leave them unattended within her reach, or that he not give her any reason to think he needed to read them.

Even with the war a passing memory, the wounds healing slowly as they were, there was always something going on. A small battle here, a war with the self happening there. The smallest thing could be seen as a pure and solid reason to read through them- at least, it would be seen as such by Harley.

“Anyway, Grigor is on his way. And I think Leo said something about visiting around the new moon. So I made extra.” She turned to leave, her self made dress setting her right in with the little cottage scene.

“Harley?”

“Hmm?” She looked back, turning when he held out the note in his hand.

“I think this might interest you.”

“Oh? I have the great honor of reading from your past? Whatever should I say?”

“Shut up, and read it.”

With narrowed eyes, she looked over the note. Frowning when the girl was mentioned. Stepping back, she leaned against the door frame again.

“Was it..?” He didn't finish, knowing it was still a touchy subject with her.

“I think so. The age would have been right, and the appearance.” She nodded, handing the note back to him. “I've got to check on the food.” Her face was hard, but her blue eyes misted over. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“I always wanted her to meet you. I think you two would have loved to hate each other.” She smiled, then spun on her heels and left the room.

Deth watched, shaking his head slowly. Subconsciously. Then her earlier words hit him. “Wait, Grigor and Leo?” he pushed through to the cooking area of the house. “Since when do people come here without asking me first?”

Harley just laughed.

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