Always Fallout [Theo]

[Seodai]

Date: 34 Fall, 511 AV Festivals were not something Seodai had ever relished. Often, Theo strongly encouraged him to go and he did so only to please his Uncle. In this case, he had gone of his own free will. In fact, he'd been somewhat excited about the whole ordeal. He had a friend now, in the skinny Vantha who had been around enough to meet his Uncle on plenty of occasions. It was interesting to show the artist new things. And, of course, there was always the hope that he'd bump into Lysander. Such a simple, pleasant evening it was supposed to have been. Of course, it was anything but. Seodai still felt the resonant distortion between himself and his goddess - somehow amplified, at least in his perception, with the presence of two other deities. It made him miss her in a way he felt he couldn't even put into words. It was like being homesick. It was like... well, something. The whole affair made him feel drained - mentally as much as physically. Lysander had him in a state of emotional upheaval; he hadn't even started trying to sort that one out yet. And the implications of everything that had gone down behind them? Well, life sometimes reached a point where it was so noisy and clattering and demanding that there was nothing to do but ignore it altogether. At least for a few hours. The people trickling away from the meeting grounds did so in groups. The voices were low and hushed, still touched with a sense of awe and dread over all that had happened. Seodai had nothing to say as they followed the familiar path that led to the tiny oasis that was home. He kicked at stones along their path and stared at the road they'd trod a million times before, but he didn't speak. He was thankful, too, that Theo seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as well. Any other time he'd have peppered his Uncle with a million questions, trying to tap into the wisdom he always found there, to make some sense of this jumbled mess. Not tonight. When they arrived, Seodai went immediately to care for a few of the livestock who needed special attention. When everyone was fed, watered, and happy again he returned to the house. He kicked off his boots and left them beside of Theo's near the door. Familiar patterns, comforting repetition. He knew every scuff on the floorboards there, every knick in the doorframe. It was dark inside, but he had no trouble navigating his way. It had been his playground for the better part of his life, the old farmhouse that was emptier now than it was full. His own nighttime routine was brief. He washed up in a basin of cool water, changed into a clean tunic to sleep in, and then collapsed on his bed. The small window allowed waning moonlight to stream in and Seodai fell into the shaft of silvery light. He was eager for sleep, if only to shut out thoughts and memories. It had been too much, the sum of it. If he could awake in the morning refreshed, perhaps he could take it apart and deal with it piece by piece. As a whole, though, the young blonde felt overwhelmed. Seodai hadn't realized he had dozed off until he started awake. Unable to pinpoint the reason for his slipping grasp on rest, he sighed and rolled over. A few moments later and he had given up. As a child he would have nightmares often, and on absolutely sleepless nights he would trod in bare feet down the hall to Theo's room. It had been years since he had done that, but he soon found himself going through the motions. He tiptoed past the room they didn't enter any longer, the room that had been hers before she died. A force of habit; it didn't seem likely that he'd upset her spirit on this night. It was quiet when he hovered, at last, outside Theo's door. He hesitated only a moment, and then pushed it in with a creak. Theo's room was situated on the same side of the house as his own, only further down it's length, so he too had a window which allowed moonlight to flow in. It illuminated his Uncle sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling. He seemed as sleepless as Seodai. Without a word the young farmer slipped into the room. It was a ritual they'd enacted a hundred times before, and so Theo didn't ask questions. He simply made room in the bed so that Seodai could slip into the warm covers, too. He took up far more room than he used to but still, they fit. There was a long pause, a silence between them that was not uncomfortable. Never that with Theo. Finally, Seodai spoke in a whisper, as if he were still that child who needed comfort. Perhaps, tonight, he was. "Uncle," he began softly. He'd had all the training required of every Denvali boy. He wasn't entirely skittish, or weak, or easily terrified. But, sometimes, he was a boy who needed family. A kid who needed love. Only Theo had ever given him that. "Are we going to be alright?" We could have meant himself and Theo, the horses, the farm. It could have meant the people surrounding their little parcel of land, or the populace of Denval as a whole. Seodai didn't bother to specify, nor did he need to. The night had served as preface enough to his whispered query.

[Tabarnac]

Theo had done a lot of heavy lifting when they returned; he had not quite gotten it through his head that Seodai was an adult, and so he still did all the most physical work himself as a matter of course, or to one of the burly volunteers who came up to help in exchange for a chance at the better produce. Community supported agriculture was the way to go. Theo rarely had trouble sleeping anymore, and when he did it was generally around specific days that meant a lot to people who were no longer there. But tonight he had scrubbed himself clean in cold water after working up a sweat. The feeling of dis-ease that came as soon as the deities disappeared was so sudden that he felt its dirty hands upon him. The hops soaked in the water gave a faint whiff to the skin, but helped prevent the stale smell of sweat from clinging to a man. He didn't glance at Seodai when he came in. The house was like a comfortable part of the family; its bones creaked and one could sense movement down the hall. He knew he had company before the door announced it. It was, perhaps, a little strange for the now grown young man to lie there, but humans weren't meant to live without physical closeness. They had more in common with herd and pack animals than they knew. His hands tucked under his head, Seo making a pillow of his arm, everything felt like it might be all right just then. But he thought about the question a while before he answered. "I've been... doubting," he said honestly, his voice a little rusty from disuse. "I've been thinking about taking my savings and sending you away, maybe to Lhavit, but away from this danger, whatever it is. I haven't felt right, and I know you haven't either. It's like someone's taking Her away from us and that might be worse than death. I don't want that for you. "But then They came, and I could feel Her there again. Her roots knotted up with my veins. Her kiss on my mouth after all these years. If it was a lost cause, the Twins would be here and we would be gambling for our lives, but the gods keep reaching out to us. Haimon's acolyte received a prophecy in the summer... Now this? It gives me hope, but I am very tired. "I would still send you away if you would go, but even though my calluses are from farm work rather than weapons anymore, I'm still Denvali. I'll stay here and defend myself. And you, if you don't have the sense to go."

[Seodai]

It was this affection in strength that Seodai had first come to love about his Uncle. It was vibrantly different than the attentions with which his natural parents affixed him, and it had been like water to a dying soul. Even now, though he was grown, there was an underlying message of love in the words that Theo spoke, and Seodai's weary spirit grasped those tendrils of unspoken affection and held on with all of his might. His throat felt tight, though he could not even explain why. In this moment, there was no Lysander. No Syllke, or any of the other people he'd been forced to meet as of late. There was only Theo, Seodai, and a cool vacancy where the warmth of Bala's love had usually existed between them. "It wouldn't be sensible to go," he argued in his almost whisper. "There's nothing out there for me. I could never leave you, Uncle. Or the farm." Those were the words Seodai spoke, but so much more was left unsaid. It was difficult enough to keep himself alive here, in his safe place. Meaningless wounds and trivial accidents were time consuming, threatening events in his life. Mizahar was a dangerous place and, though he had military skills to match any other Denvali youth, he wouldn't survive well out there. And what could even provoke him to leave? This was where he had found acceptance, and love. From Theo, and from Bala. Somehow those two had taken the place of the parents who had been relieved at his departure, and he couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave. "Sometimes," Seo began, with an exaggerated yawn. "I wish I was a kid again. Dancing through the rows of corn, chasing the ribbon sticks you used to make for Cinta. The worst thing that ever happened was Zith attacking, and you never let them hurt us. It seemed like you could protect us from anything. Save the world." Years may have put a natural, expected distance between them as Seodai had aged, but tonight the blue eyes that gazed at his Uncle's familiar face in the moonlight were as blindly trusting as they ever had been. He sighed, almost wistfully. "Why Denval? The gods could certainly have more fun with other cities, I think."

[Tabarnac]

"Well, nobody ever accused you of being sensible," he sighed, but there was nary a hint of bite to his words. Though his body was still hale and hearty, flesh hardened by hard work and military drills, he often felt older than his years. Grief was as pointed a weapon as any, and often poisonous, sapping the strength over time. But Seo was his joy, and would inherit a son's portion when Theo finally courted Dira. "You're still a kid," he protested after a while. "Skinny as a beanpole." But he ignored the praise; such commendations made him slightly uncomfortable. After all, he had not been able to protect his wife and daughter, and everyone was feeling powerless in these times of trial and tribulation. "The gods aren't responsible for this," he said firmly. "They have reached out to us in our distress and everyone has seen it. Lord Viratas, the Sun and Moon. If anything, be honored by the fate Lhex has spun for us. They never allow us more burden than we can handle. Adversity makes us stronger, whets us into sharper blades. We're Denvali, Seo. Who better to weather this storm than us?"

[Seodai]

Seodai wished he could feel the same conviction as his uncle. Perhaps it was his immaturity coming to the fore, but he would just as soon pass this fate off to another city, and have Denval return to the quiet that it had maintained for much of his life. Things had never been perfect for the boy with weak blood, but it had been pretty close to it. Food, shelter, companionship in Theo, Bala. Now there were situations complicating that. People, too. Lysander, of whom he felt guilty even thinking about while he lay so close to Theo. It seemed childish, with the wisdom of his uncle nearby. Perhaps that is why Lysander had become the first secret Seodai had ever really kept from the farmer all of Denval loved. There was Syllke, too, who was around the farm almost as much as Seodai these days. If Theo had noticed the adoring way the Vantha stared at Seodai, he was way ahead of the boy who was content to have a playmate at last. The list went on; Seodai's quiet, simple life had suddenly become very active, very confusing. As if that wasn't bad enough, all of the world around him seemed thrown into chaos, and he'd been entertaining the strangest dreams. It was almost too much, all at once. "Do you think dreams mean anything?" he asked, a wild swing in direction. It didn't matter. He didn't need to make sense. Theo was his sanctuary.

[Tabarnac]

"So they say," he murmured in the darkness. After a few moments of thought, he said, "I know there are Dreamwalkers who follow Nysel. And some of Avalis' daughters in Mura have prophetic dreams. I don't know if you have to be someone or something special in order to qualify, and surely some dreams don't mean anything. I mean, one time I dreamed that you hadn't milked the cows, and they were lowing piteously, and when I found you, you were in the orchard painting your feet blue and speaking gibberish like 'herp derp derp'. That was weird." Theo shifted to get comfortable. It was one thing when a small boy crept into bed terrified of thunderstorms, but it was quite another when a grown young man had the same need for protection from things that went bump in the night. But these were not bogeymen under the bed or in the closet; these were Zith stealing livestock, animated puppet monsters attacking guardsmen, corrupting holy bonds with the most high gods themselves. It was difficult to croon the old promise, everything will be all right, when one was uncertain. Never since that first kiss of autumn, her breath mingling with his and making him shiver like leaves falling from a tree, had he imagined that bond could be severed or, worse, perverted. He kissed Seo's curls. "Someone is trying to take Bala away from me," he said. "Someone is attacking the farm, killing my people, and threatening my son. I don't claim to know the future, but I know that I will defend what is mine, or die trying. If I could, I would guard you in your dreams as well."

[Seodai]

Seodai laughed at the retelling of the dream, a whisper of a sound that wasn't so very different from his laughter so many years before, when Theo would likewise ease his fears with words and humor. It didn't matter if the dream was real or not. It made Seodai smile, an expression which sobered as his Uncle went on. He was hardly as world-wise as Theo, but he understood the separation, the pollution between Bala and his Uncle. He burdened beneath it every day. He wondered if it was worse for Theo, who had been blessed by their Beloved twice? He didn't bother to ask, though, because how could it be quantified? How could he measure the misery of his own distance from Her and compare it to that of his Uncle, whom he had always believed was so very much stronger? "I dream of strange things," Seodai confessed, in that still-small voice reserved for the bedroom. "Of war, and death, and magic." Theo, more than anyone else in the world perhaps, could grasp how those three things were fundamentally opposite of Seodai's personality. Whatever martial skill he possessed had come at Theo's encouragement and a sense of duty to Denval, not any interest or inclination on his own part. Despite his gnosis, Seo had no special inclination towards magic and, in fact, tended to shy away from his limited exposure. "But they keep coming. The same faces and places and themes. When I awaken I ... I can't seem to shake it, not right away, anyway. The emotion just sticks. Until Syllke distracts me, or something," he murmured into the forearm he turned his cheek into. "They're only frightening because they seem so real. And sad."

[Tabarnac]

"Well, it's natural, I suppose, when war and death and magic hang threateningly on the horizon for months." When Seo shifted over, Theo turned too, letting the boy use his one arm for the pillow as another slung over him like a blanket. Growing up, Seodai had had his fair share of nightmares and had gotten comfortable early on climbing into his cousin's bed or in with his aunt and uncle. When he might naturally have grown out of it, though, the cousin and the aunt had perished, leaving the two of them clutching to each other in shared grief and shared strength. It was comforting now, again, when death loomed on the horizon and sickness reached into them at their holiest places and touched them with rot. "When will I meet this Syllke?" he asked, attempting to be nonchalant, but bemused by the lad's interest in someone beyond the farm finally.

[Seodai]

Seodai might have argued. He might have taken the time to explain that this war, and magic, and death was different than anything he could have imagined on his own. He might have detailed it all for the Uncle who was so often his strength. Before he could part his lips to do so, however, Theo asked about Syllke. The warm frame of Theo's arms, his familiar scent, the comfort of the bed - it all created a cozy cocoon and Seodai felt safe, and loose-lipped. "Oh," he said, with a faint sigh. One shoulder shrugged lightly, and as his eyes diverted from Theo's face towards the ceiling instead, the smallest smile tugged his lips upwards. "I don't know. He's always around. I guess we're just not here so often. He comes to drag me off for all of these crazy adventures. It seems like a waste of time, if I think about it before I sleep. I finish everything I need to on the farm before I go, but what might I have done with all of those hours if I hadn't wiled them away?" Seodai shifted, big blues dropping to the stubble along Theo's jaw again instead. "But it's fun. He's fun. He likes me. It's... nice." This was, perhaps, a conversation long overdue. Seodai had never really had a friend outside of the farm, excepting Talen, who was a cousin who also suffered from the weakness of blood that tormented Seodai, if to a lesser extent. He hardly counted. Seodai had never mused over the pleasure of friendship before, nor had he ever really willingly left the farm. The notion of him running all over Denval on grand adventures was laughable.

[Tabarnac]

"It's a good thing," Theo said without hesitation, "having friends outside one's work. The work keeps us strong and alive, but the connections between us... those are why we make the effort to stay alive. They are the harvest of all our toils. You are due for some fun with friends. Are you still spending time with that young Ethaefal, Lysander?" He paused. "I suppose I don't know if he is actually young, but he appears to be. They don't age like the rest of us, though, do they?" He yawned wearily to the faint scratch of his chin against his neck. Even the appearance of gods could not keep the weary people of Denval awake forever. Excitement wore off, the real world swept back in to steal their awareness, their strength.