"Broken Shards"

[zauberdecke]

"In the dark
I need to taste the blood
Go on, draw another line
We can cross this time."
- Blindfold by Sleeping Wolf

---



[ Essek Thelyss: Shadowhand to the Dynasty.

One who reached further then the Luxon would allow, who would do absolutely anything for knowledge. Oh no, the man did not care for power, not really. He wanted to cast himself into the portal of knowing, he wanted to surrender himself to books and learning without having to deal with the mundanities of socio-politics that all of the Kryn engaged in. It was tedious and it filled him with sickness even as he plastered on an urbane smile for all and sundry to see.

Within the Dynasty, it was customary to take pets of the Empire; they were brought in across the border of Asarius, across the mountains and into the Dynasty. There were Dynasty born pets on the other side, both lost to the ravages of the other's civilization, generally never to be seen again.

Essek had never really had an interest to begin with when it came to pets; at the market he carefully avoided the slave blocks where those not of the Dynasty were paraded around. However, it had come to this-- it had come to his trading of the Beacon, and in return he recieved a Volstrucker to serve him. And yet, for all of that, Essek Thelyss had not thought he would receive a broken Volstrucker.

In fair trade, he and recieved a dossier on the man in question and had perused it with only a small semblance of annoyance while Trent Ikithon had assured him that a man like him could be rebuilt, the honeyed words of a silken snake which Essek recognized.

After all did not a predator recognize another predator? So now he held in his household a man whom had to be guarded carefully, though Essek was not cruel despite how he imagined Dynasty pets were treated, the cage that he had placed this Volstrucker named Bren within, well it was comfortable-- he'd seen pictures of Vergossen so he supposed it must be far better than that place. But he had not precisely interacted with him-- most of his unseen servants were given the walking of him, the care and maintenance of him.

Perhaps because he did not precisely know what to do with him, or what use he had for something broken. Though he arguably did not know what manner of broken the Volstrucker was, but after a week-- he decided perhaps it was time to summon him and see for himself; acertain what sort of work was cut out for him.

If this man was worth putting back together again.

So it was one evening, he had the Empire man summoned to his chambers. ]

Comments

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren went still as if he had been caught misbehaving, but eased after a moment when it appeared Essek wasn't visibly unhappy with him. He nodded, reaching for the book, opening it to pen out his request, holding it up for Essek to read, a pair of pleading blue eyes watchin him over the edge of the book.]

May I write, while you read?

[Because he was not doing well being left alone with his thoughts at the moment. They were a dangerous place at the best of times, and even worse since he'd been drawn out of the mental prison of his madness.

His teeth worried at his lower lip, uncertain. Bren was not a man used to asking for much of anything for himself, and it felt like overstepping, less because he was expecting Essek to be strict or deny him, but because he was being more trouble than he was likely worth.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek scanned the words that Bren had written in the notebook; if he knew his Pet better, he'd notice that they were jagged and panicked, but all he saw was the sharp angles of them. He glanced then at the face, those blue eyes that spoke volumes. ]

My apologies, you are-- unfortunately, my first pet so I am highly new to this. It means you may very well get away with some things because I do not know the proper protocol. I am learning, you could say. [ He tapped the words written lightly with a perfectly manicured fingertip. ] We should make this a bit easier, I suppose. If I am distracted and you wish to beg a request to me-- you may bump your forehead lightly against my knee.

[ It had been only a casual accident that he had even bothered to look up from his book. ] This comes into play especially when I am reading and/or working, as I tend toward absorption.

[ His hand settled once again on the top of Bren's head. ] You may write in your book; however-- for further information, what are other amusements you enjoy? I could use them as rewards.. for good behavior, of course.

[ausgebrannt]

[Visible surprise rose in Bren's eyes at the apology. As far as Bren was aware of how these things worked, Essek owed him absolutely nothing. He should be grateful that he hadn't been thrown into a cell and forgotten or beaten for entertainment or worse. More and more he was finding himself surprised and curious about this Shadowhand.

Another nod of acknowledgment. He could do that. It was a good solution, Bren thought, a reasonable one. More and more the fairness he was being treated with was underscored, and that treasonous little voice in the back of his mind repeated its litany over and over again that he didn't deserve it.

The hand atop his head interrupted that dangerous dark spiral, and his gaze fixed back into the present moment and focused on the question. It was a simple enough answer, a single word.] Books. I like books very much.

[zauberdecke]

[ His eyes scanned the words offered via the neat cream-coloured page ]

Books.. well if you continue to be good, I happen to have quite a vast library.

[ there was a bookcase in the sitting area of his chambers, where they were now, but it was fairly modest and housed his favorite books, the spines gleaming enticingly if Bren had caught sight of them. In fact, if he had the opportunity to look, he would see that a neat pile of books were on the coffee table, one or two housed on the mantle pf the hearth.

Clear hint that the Shadowhand was a reader, a voracious one at that ]

Do you have a particular favorite genre of book, Pet? [ if someone had told him that he would have found common ground with his Pet, he would not have believed them. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren, perhaps embarrassingly enough, perked up visibly at the word library, and if he weren't inclined to being obedient to begin with, that would have been reason enough for him to be a very good boy. He had caught sight of the bookcase and desperately wanted to go peruse and see what the drow was reading, but that clearly had not been something he'd been permitted to do. Yet.

But the books scattered about were certainly evidence that his master was a reader.

Another nod at the question. Oh he certainly had his favorite genre. What reason was there to pretend otherwise? He doubted his arcane studies would go any further than they had now. What need would a pet have of learning spells and magical theory?

It didn't stop him from answering true, though.] Magic. Studies of the arcane, magical theory, history.

[zauberdecke]

Very interesting.. those happen to be particular focus areas of study for myself, I am a wizard of Dunamacy and have published a few treatise and journals on the area of study.

[ How curious, he was not sure that Volstruckers could be magic users or scholars but well, there was little he knew about the Empire aside from that which had been revealed. He took was starting to become intriqued by the complexities of his Pet; from the broken look in those sad sea blue eyes to the way that for a single moment those eyes had lit up.

Oh no, he could see the benefits of owning a pet.

Perhaps though it was only this one that fascinated him. Adeen's pet was a trite thing and it was easy to ignore her, but Essek found himself just as interested. ] I will continue reading but please write in your notebook as you wish, I will be here for a few more hours and it will be boring just kneeling there.

[ausgebrannt]

[Another undisguisable flicker of interest at Dunamancy because he had heard of that, yes, but it was a deeply held secret within the Dynasty. And after the jolt of curiosity and his own insatiable hunger for knowledge -- especially knowledge of the arcane involved in the primal forces of the universe, of space and gravity and time -- a significantly less thrilling thought came.

His brow furrowed, and a frown tugged at his features. Before Essek could turn his attention entirely to his reading once more, Bren scribbled quickly in his book.]

Ikithon does nothing for kindness' sake. All his actions are for his own benefit and he does not care what the costs to others may be. If you are a Dunamancer, you have something he wants very much. I am not a gift. I am disposable. And I am likely meant to be a trap. Perhaps an anchor for scrying? Or something worse. I'm sure this is not a surprise to you, but I'd be remiss not to point it out.

[A deep breath and he held the book out so Essek could read this new spill of words across the page. Part of him wondered if pointing this out would remind Essek that he was in fact a broken, worthless thing that was gifted by a man who could not be trusted, if it would spell the end of the kindness shown him.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The book was presented to him and he very carefully took it, resting it on his lap as he read the words; if Bren was watching the expressions, he would see that the other man's eyes furrowed with the sort of intensity that that was focused complete on the words scrawled therein. After a few moments he inclined his head with a bit of understanding. His eyes drawing then over to the collar that Caleb wore, and it was very very pointed.

Then he reached for Bren's pen and then very gently dislodged it from his hand.

It almost looked as if he may have changed his mind to take away the notebook. Instead however, he pressed pen to page and started to write. ]

You owe me nothing and yet you've given me this information freely? I understand full well the man that Trent Ikithon is however perhaps you are of value, I can already see you know things, also if you were not filled with value, he would've kept you where you were in the Empire-- the fact that he is attempting to 'get rid of you' speaks far more than I think you realize.

[ And then Essek passed the notebook and pen back, with an arch look. ] Tomorrow morning, you will be fitted by my Tailor. I look forward to seeing how our wardrobes may coordinate.

[ Speaking of intrigue via the notebook, above the table-- something that would bore Trent Ikithon, that is if he was in fact keeping tabs. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[A small, subtle nod as Essek looked at the collar. Bren had considered that as well. Any scrying spell put on the collar would be at least partially obscured by the magic that kept him silent and contained. He did not fight to keep hold of the pen, willingly giving it up if Essek had decided to take it back, but far more intrigued when the drow began writing.

He took the notebook back, eyes scanning the words before lifting back once more to Essek. A faint frown and he began to write.]

I am an embarrassment for him, I think. I have no love for Trent Ikithon. He is a monster, and I would not have him cause anymore harm to anyone else.

You have been kinder than I deserve. There are things I know, but it is less than it might otherwise be. I have been indisposed for a long while. Still, what information I have is yours.

[He slides the notebook back, nodding to play his part. The tailor and wardrobes, yes. He understood the ploy, to keep the conversation mundane and unrelated, and he'd follow along, a keen understanding in his eyes.]

[zauberdecke]

[ A standard scry would not work on the his household, however a scry that was reliant upon voices and artificed into a collar? His eyes slid to the collar, to the neck that was revealed to be encased by it. Then he started to write, he had a feeling that Trent could not see, only hear. That was unsettling but as Bren also thought, it was not surprising and the Shadowland was not surprised whatsoever.

And still Essek would talk about trivial and frivolous stuff, things that he would speak to in a Pet's direction. After all, what would Bren have to contribute to the conversation of subjects that Essek Thelyss professed himself interested in?

Unspokenly, probably quite a bit. ]

Your colouring, sadly-- it will not accommodate silver very well; so gold will have to do, and warmer colours than the ones that I generally favor; I will not wear gold, but rather silver-- so I will simply have to focus on you 'complimenting' instead of matching.

[ He was writing, much like they were passing notes underneath the Professor's nose. ]

I am a selfish man, Pet; do not forget that; I want knowledge; not power-- knowledge. It has been what has driven me and I have my reasons. However, that being said you are mine now, not Trent's.

[ He then passed the notebook back to Bren one last time, his fingers relinquishing the pen back to his orange Empire Kitten. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren waited patiently as Essek wrote, listening to what was said out loud as well. And Essek was right about what he was saying too; Caleb was better fit in warmer colors, though he had certainly never worn gold before of any sort. That would be a matter for tomorrow though, and Bren was in no way prepared for any of it.

He had no choice but to be silent, but he still waited patiently to see what the drow was writing now. Knowledge, not power. Bren could understand that. It had long been his drive as well, to learn, to know, to do good for what he had been so naive to believe was the greater good.

He'd been a stupid child, but that was not an excuse for his crimes.

The you are mine now struck him in a way that he had not expected, a clenching in his chest and a heat that threatened to pool in his belly. Not Trent's. Yes, not his anymore, no matter where his life would lead him now. He set the notebook in his lap, nodding. He understood.

He would let Essek return to his book, would content himself with writing in his book, starting with the spells that he remembered, as if recreating his spellbook would somehow matter. It was soothing though, the arcane sigils and circles, the verbal components, the diagrams of the somatic gestures. For a moment he could pretend things were normal, that it was a decade ago and he was a simple student at his studies, before everything had gone wrong.

And maybe unconsciously, kneeling where he was, he started leaning, ever so slightly, against the Shadowhand's leg, as if so starved for touch and proximity that he acted without fully intellectualizing what he was doing.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek went back to his reading though, though ever so often he would flick a glance down at the page. From his vantage point, Bren could hide very little from him-- he saw the somatic sigils being drawn and he wondered how the other many could do it from memory, he recognized the sigil for a 1st level Transmutation spell, faithfully recreated seemingly from memory. Though he attempted not to be too direct by it, a matter of sideways glances.

He was not the sort that would attempt to gatekeep knowledge, so he would not look askance at this nor would he attempt to curtail it. Instead he rested his free hand at the back of Bren's neck and lightly stroked in an almost soothing manner, little traces here and there while he focused more and more attention on what he was reading.

It was likely though that the Pet would grow tired far sooner than Essek did. Due to the fact that Essek normally did not seek his trance until the early hours of the morning. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren, for his part, was not trying to hide what he was doing either. Not this anyway. He wrote the notes for his spells in Common, so that there would be no mystery to what he was doing. At least for those pieces. The hand at the back of his neck was a soothing presence, and he only hated himself a little for how much he liked the touch.

As the hours wore on, Bren would turn to pages towards the back of the book and start writing what looked like it may have been a letter -- one he knew he would never send. This was written in Zemnian, Liebe Mutter und Vater, Ich weiß, dass mir nicht vergeben werden kann. Es tut mir so leid... It would be the first of many missives of this nature, pouring out his regret and guilt to eyes that would never be able to see it.

Eventually though, sleep started pulling at him. He shut the book and tucked the pen carefully with it. He leaned more heavily against Essek's leg, head beginning to loll as he fought nodding off, eventually losing the battle and ending up tipping so that his head rested against his master's thigh.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The soft sounds of sleep eventually caught Essek's attention and then after a few moments he just lingered there and with Bren's head against his knee; he did not need to steal a glance, he could look upon Bren whenever he wished, openly. However he did allow himself a moment more of reading before he moved it. Finally he used a spell to adjust the gravitational density of Bren and then he very carefully had then Unseen Servants pick him up and carry him back to his little caged room.

The notebook and pen was carried along with it.

The next morning breakfast would come for Bren, and wake him up. It was the standard food provided for breakfast, a thick oatmeal with honey and citrus' earl grey swirled into it--along with blackberries fresh from the Lotus Den. It was the same sort of breakfast that he was given many mornings over in the past week. It would of course be up to Bren to consume that which was given to him.

After that, Bren was whisked back up to Essek's chambers where the Tailor was waiting, alongside Essek.

That resulted in a whirlwind of fittings and measurements while Essek watched. Discussions on fabrics, complimenting styles, even an elegant black leather leash was discussed, something that could be hooked effortlessly into a glove of which a ring would be attached, so that if need be-- Essek did not have to precisely hold the leash. That, of course, relied on his Pet being obedient.

In the end, there was an assortment of clothing made up for Bren; 75 percent of the tops having parts of the chest cut out, so as to bare Bren's own torso-- sometimes it was just a top half, that covered collarbone and shoulders, other times a sharp V that went all the way down to the waistline of trousers. and even still would come patterns that only consisted of a series of bands and belts that ran up the torso, affixed with hooks-- through each though, Essek consulted plates of previous Pet Fashion.

Every single time though, there was that subtle demand that his Pet be the first stare of fashion; he was conceited enough to want his Pet to set the fashion for all Pets to follow-- because it was Essek, and he had standards as high as his heeled boots.

After three hours, Bren was finally released back for lunch. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren woke the next morning with a rush of sleepy confusion at waking somewhere that he had not fallen asleep. It was easy enough, as consciousness settled in to put together what had happened, and he mentally kicked himself for falling asleep like some overtired child. But there was no help for it. He had a bit of a stare down with his breakfast, but hunger won out and he ate half of it, even while that nagging voice in the back of his mind berated him for enjoying this new captivity, for not deserving this kindness and generosity.

The guilt only grew after the whirlwind up being fitted for clothes. Even if the cut and styles of the clothes clearly marked him as a Pet to be put on display, a reminder of his station and status here, the clothing was frankly luxurious compared to anything that Bren had ever known or worn, the fabrics fine and soft and...

None of this was right. He was a murderer. His hands would never be clean of their sins. He was a weapon that had splintered in the tempering rather than been strengthened, a failure of everything he had such good intentions of becoming.

So when he was set back to lunch, he couldn't bring himself to take in the food, preferring the ache of the hunger as he curled in on himself and took up his notebook. Ich bin ein verachtenswertes Monster. Ich verdiene es nicht zu leben. Repeated across the page over and over again as if he could write it out of his thoughts.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek had things to occupy himself with for the majority of the afternoon.

After he'd deposited Bren back for lunch, he'd had a few meetings with the Bright Queen-- there was also a luncheon at Den Thelyss which he had to go to with Adeen (not thing that he was necessarily happy about but it had been ten years and unfortunately? It was what it was). Things that he had to attend to no matter; and that kept him busy for the majority of the later afternoon as well.

When he returned, he asked for a status update on his Pet. Just basic things such as 'what he occupied himself with' (easy enough answered, it was writing in the book-- to be expected, Essek did not expect Bren to just sit there waiting for his return) but then he was told that Bren had only eaten 'half' his breakfast and then 'none' of his lunch.

Inquiries into if his Pet was sick. A negative answer, well that was curious, but also displeasing.

He had thought that his own wishes be known that his Pet eat. Well, then.

Around dinner time, Bren was given one last chance to eat something. Food was provided, food that was a bit more substantial, crusty bread that was soft in the middle, a sort of gravy with which to dip it in, a block of cheese and then the fragrant smell of bacon fried in a honey molasses so that it crisped sweet and provided nuance to the dinner.

Would Bren eat? ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren remembered what Essek had told him about the rules, about eating being one of them. He wanted to obey, to be good and maybe be worthy somehow of being shown the kindness that he'd been met with -- but that was the problem. Even that would be a self-serving lie, deceiving his owner into thinking that he was somehow worth the trouble.

Better Essek learn how broken and worthless he was so he could be discarded as he ought to be.

The dinner smelled delicious, and his stomach grumbled its hunger loudly. Bren ignored this though, instead once more filling a page with those words before curling onto his side on the floor near his bed, tucked into the fetal position, curled around his notebook.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Unfortunately, it was reported back to Essek that Bren had not eaten and that really was regrettable, wasn't it; he was a bit disappointed but-- perhaps he could deal with this willfulness.

He assumed it was willfulness, what else could it be?

So as the darkness deepened in Rosohna, that was when Essek finally sent for Bren to be brought before him. And this time when Bren was brought into the sitting room, something would seem off. It was in the way that Essek sat in the wing chair, ramrod straight was his back and he held an expression that was neutral and yet still conveyed displeasure.

Especially as how Bren had seen smiles earlier, not fully enthusiastic-- but a calm and understated delight in styling his pet. No, this felt cold and unyielding.

His eyes flicked from Bren to the floor right in front of him-- it was a marked command. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren had been stirred out of his self-imposed misery by the usual unseen servants, and perhaps he ought to have questioned why it had become to late before he was summoned. Perhaps he should have questioned many things, but it was not until he found himself standing before the Shadowhand and felt the shift in atmosphere of the room, a marked change from earlier, even from the night before.

He didn't know what to make of it, not entirely, but he did not miss that unspoken command. Bren moved quickly to obey, dropping to his knees in front of his master. He set his journal carefully beside him, clasping his hands behind his back and turning an uncertain gaze up to the other man.

He did know what being in trouble felt like, after all. And this certainly felt like he was in trouble.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek knew he was intimidating, it was one of the reasons that he managed to get by with doing husband duties (once) a month-- it was still too much over a ten year span of time, too many times of him staring at the ceiling as if he could rip through it like a tear in time.

He crossed one leg over the other while he waited a few moments to let the silence speak-- though carefully timing the beats, finally he allowes himself to speak. ]

You did not eat but a shadow of your breakfast, and then none of luncheon or dinner.

[ his hand clasped something in his palm, if Bren looked at it closely.. it would resemble a riding crop made of black leather. ]

Are you ill?

[ausgebrannt]

[The silence was heavy and deafening and terrifying. Bren managed not to fidget too much, but he found it too difficult to continue meeting Essek's eyes and instead dropped his gaze to look down at the floor. Oh yes, in trouble.

His gaze had caught on that leather crop in the drow's hand, but he'd forced himself not to linger on it, forced himself to take a breath and then another as the anxiety began to build. Pain was coming, wasn't it? But he could abide by pain, was certain that was more what he deserved than the consideration he'd been treated with to this point.

It was almost a relief.

He did not look up when Essek spoke, did not lift his eyes even as he shook his head at the question. No, he was not ill.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek allowed himself a moment to process this information that was given to him-- not ill. Well at least Bren was honest which, theoretically, would lessen the punishment slightly. But still it meant that there was other reasons, ones that he had to address just as much as any sickness. ]

You disobeyed me, that is the fact of the matter-- how do you think I should deal with it, Pet? Now, I may not be experienced in pet ownership, but I have seen where discipline is needed for correction.

[ his eyes flicked toward the notebook for the shadow of a second. ] I cannot let this disregard for my orders slide-- you understand this, correct?

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren managed, mostly, not to tremble at the tone of Essek's voice, at what the other man was saying. He had disobeyed, and he was fully aware of it. That hadn't been the reasoning behind his failure to eat the meals that had been given to him.

The worst piece was how hollow he felt inside at the realization that he had disappointed his master who had been nothing but good to him. Another rush of self-loathing, and he bowed his head further giving another nod to the question. He understood. He would not try to beg forgiveness or mercy.

He deserved whatever his punishment was.]

Oh no, he is really in it now

[zauberdecke]

[ Never did Essek's voice raise during this entire process.

He did not yell and would not start-- he could be a bit snappish and usually that was to Adeen or anyone who had severely tried his patience on a molecular level; however, he observed that there was a certain deep abiding recalcitrance to Bren's positioning. There was understanding there that he did wrong.

But also, Essek knew that there was a reason. He could not think of this pet 'purposely' obeying him, he'd been much too mannerly for that. Essek was not one to jump to conclusion, there was still a piece of this puzzle that needed to be solved-- and thus, his eyes strayed to that leather-bound notebook held to the side, with the pen neatly laid atop of it. A tap of his fingers lightly against the arm of his chair as he considered for a moment.

Then he made his decision. ]

Pet, I wish to see your notebook.

[ That was phrased rather neatly but at the end of the seconds that passed, that was still not a request, it was a demand. By Essek's reasoning, a pet should have no secrets-- likewise, he also knew that Bren had been very eager to scribble in it, so it was only natural that he see the notebook, as if that would slide some puzzle pieces into place and reveal the full picture.

The Shadowland would not punish his pet without understanding the entire story. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren waited in silence. Not that he had a choice in the matter, but even without the spell holding his voice prisoner, he had nothing to say. What was there to say in this case? He could feel the disappointment levied at him from his master, a heavy thing at knowing full well that he'd chosen not to be good. But how could he even begin to explain that he was not good, that he was so fundamentally tainted that he'd only been fooling Essek into believing he was.

His gaze snapped up at the mention of the notebook. The Drow had assured Bren he would not take away the boon for misbehavior, so this was something else.

A momentary hesitation, but he reached over to pick the book up and hold it out towards Essek. Well, good, let Essek see for himself the truth of him.]