Asylum/Don't You (Forget About Me)

Don’t You (Forget About Me)

The white cliffs wound across the shore below in a swirl of velvet folds, here and there broken by a shadow cast by the high sun overhead or the sparkle of imbedded sea glass. Xanthium knew from exploring the surf that the water here was very deep, and the strong tides prone to this part of the island kept the water mostly free of rocks, especially right where she peered down into the rich blue waves. She had been coming here for weeks, after Service, building her strength and endurance, learning a new sort of dance. From the smaller cliffs to the north, she’d worked out how to move her body as she fell, how to hit the surface so she slipped through with minimal impact, into the blue. How to hold her breath and to let her eyes to adjust to the dim, shimmering light and see the ocean’s colorful denizens. Not all of it had been pleasant; she’d broken her wrist a few weeks ago when gust of wind had made her off-balance and she’d slapped against the water like a skipped stone. A week before that one of those fascinating creatures that looked like a fluorescent blue pouch had stung her when she’d gone to have a look at it, and some minutes later she’d barely managed to get an empath’s attention in the Mist Harbor Commons before expiring from the poison.

Xanthium had a long history of obsessions; activities and interests that would consume her for undetermined amounts of time, so firmly she could barely articulate even to herself why she was so bound to them. In her old life, on Grandfather’s plantation, these had often taken the form of spending weeks or months in the library, reading everything she could find about halfling ponies or the Horned Cabal. Sometimes her grandfather even had her meals brought to her there, or instruments, writing tools, and sketching material. In time she’d always come to some sort of soft revelation, or the hard end of the available literature to be had, and wait for some new avocation to come claim her. Now that she wandered the world, this pattern had not stopped, and had become even more compelling. To a degree, even her relationship with Kothos could be described in the same terms; thinking about the priest could occupy her attention raptly, especially after they’d had a particularly intense exchange.

They’d had such an encounter on the beach just southwest of here, in the middle of a Lumnea night. The start of a mutual love, fragile yet persistent; she had been so overcome she’d returned the next morning to let the memories and chaos reign. She had knelt in the water under the burgeoning sun; the tropical waters warm to her skin, covering her with another layer of salt like the one she’d washed off not a few hours ago. The rising tide had transfixed her; the sparkle of the sunlight over the crests, and she thought of his eyes and his words, of how the ocean resonated with him. For her, a person born in a desert, being immersed in the rush of water was keenly surreal, as alien as the idea of being loved. This shore of mysteries, her poetic passenger whispered to her, as she ducked her head beneath the rolling surface. Her training had allowed time for a little swimming, and the beach was calm at the time being. It had been a magical, bittersweet moment that became just as etched upon her mind, the sea that had born witness to her gifts of love offering her yet more beauty. She thought of the bond they had forged here, and she came back, over and over, to listen and explore this new realm. It was timely, as well, an activity that was just hers, her own, that would leave her time to think.

So it had gone, and so it had led her here, nearly a hundred feet above the rippling blue. She was nervous, despite the number of times she’d died in her journeys, it was still exceedingly unpleasant, and the ocean, while hypnotic, could also be treacherous. The light from the noonday sun made this whole section of the shore as clear as it was going to get. Her earlier dives had increased her strength, letting her go deeper and deeper, but she still could see dozens- perhaps even hundreds of feet left of light left that she could explore, if she could get enough force to propel her down. Her hip-satchel, hanging now on a nearby rock, held little souvenirs of her earlier adventures; a jagged tooth, a frosted piece of thick aquamarine glass, a nautilus shell. When she sang to them, she could hear the melody of the waves, and thus they were precious to her, symbols of all that night had been and had become. Along with those treasures was the pearl that Kothos had given her just a few days ago, that he had gotten diving on Caligos before that island had been taken by the sea. Perhaps today she would find something for him in turn.

You have been on this cliff before, Xandi, or at least, a precipice of your mind and soul. You know the only thing you can do is jump. Best do it at a run, if you’re scared.

She took her own advice, going back a few paces, and then broke into a dash for the edge, turning the last few feet into a leap, using the extra air and momentum to flip her long body about into a smooth bend. A second later, and halfway down- she straightened, jackknifing into a sharp, smooth dive, and then released the spellsong she had been holding, her voice rippling through the air the fraction of a second before she hit the water, forming a sonic barrier over her an inch away from her skin, enough to keep a small layer of air about her but not slow her descent into the depths. It worked; she saw the shimmer of the waves slap against the shield as she fell, but it held, keeping her dry and able to sing. As she let the dive’s force push her down, she hummed, molding the barrier into something bigger, a sphere a little larger in diameter than she was tall. As the drag of the water slowed her descent, she was able to use her voice to push the globe about, slowly directing it down and out, toward a part of the ocean floor she’d never managed to get close to. Glancing about, she guessed she was nearly twice the depth she’d ever gotten to unprotected. She smiled, flush with triumph. Just then, a pale flank of some creature passed right overhead, a flash of silver and a dark grey dorsal fin. Xanthium was startled, but immediately engaged; this was exactly what she had wanted. Just below her, on a sand-drenched reef beckoned, rife with color.

Olive green tendrils slunk back and forth in the current, reminding her of her swamp dream long ago, and here and there she saw a shimmer of yellow or blue as tiny fish darted away from her, wary of her shadow. Some of them were only as big as her fingernail, and others the breadth of her whole hand, with beautiful fanned out spines and fins. Seahorses cantered along under the branches of a huge coral, shaped like a head of broccoli. A school of pewter-grey cardinal fish barreled down away from Xanthium’s approach, heading toward flowing cluster of rose-hued tentacles- that she recognized, an anemone. She sang liltingly, directing the sphere down to the predator cautiously, she remembered one of her Solhaven neighbors telling her that fish and crabs often took shelter around anemones, and she’d also find other predators like triggerfish and trevally waiting for those same to grow incautious. Just as she thought, a clump of…something…jumped out toward her as she sank, that looked like it was half frog and half algae-covered rock. Discovering its ambush was poorly planned, it quickly tumbled away to go hide elsewhere and try again.

Xanthium used her feet and arms to push the sphere on, coupling the movement with her voice to keep up her exploration. Before long, she was winded, but felt like she could tolerate more before having to go back. The enchanting song of the sea was echoing against her shield’s exterior, making a soft, rhythmic rumbling. The sensation was soothing, and the kaleidoscope of fish and plants and shells crafted their own trance upon her. She descended until she was level with the reef’s plane, and then sank to her knees to watch for a while. She rocked and hummed, and by holding still, some of the fish who had swam away slowly started their normal routine again, and little slivers of orange and white scampered about in front of her. The clownfish were proceeded by the most gorgeous yet, a pair of angelfish that were both as long as her arm. Their slender bodies were striped in lemon yellow and vibrant blue with bright blue faces and golden tails. They were so intense the surreal sensibility returned to her, and she thought of Brother Blud. The ocean realm was connected to him through his former life in Brisker’s Cove- she grinned as a tiny crab scuttled sideways under her, thinking of Kothos as a boy, swimming and fishing in places such as this. She was halfway into another line of fantasy about the priest when she felt the bubble around her start to drift down once more, realized she was truly winded, exhausted. And the motion wasn’t a drift, anymore, there was a pressure to it, the shield was nearly being yanked past the reef and out toward the open ocean.

She clambered back up to her feet, and tried to concentrate, but the motion only made things worse, her redistributed weight made her spin about in the grip of the undercurrent. Now she was spiraling downward, disoriented and…no longer sure which way she had come. Why did her head hurt so much? The exhaustion was akin to wearing a cloak of iron; she could barely raise her shoulders enough to keep her gaze on the light. Xanthium couldn’t focus, couldn’t even think- save the wistful realization that if her bubble collapsed, she was clearly too far down to make it back to the surface before she drowned. As if echoing her rising panic, the shimmering curve of the shield wobbled, and a little flex of energy crackled, water spilling in through the effect. She tried to form another spellsong, to seal the spill, but her voice caught, the pain in her skull becoming unbearable. At least the sphere had stopped spinning; the undertow had run its course. She gazed about with a few labored breaths, trying to suck as much of the precious stuff into her lungs as she could. Her field of vision was once again disrupted by a swift grey shadow- the same creature as before? She didn’t know, but the fear factor killed the last of her magical concentration, and the forcefield winked out of existence. She had but a moment to hold her breath, but the enveloping ocean was so potent- how could it be so much colder here?- the dwindling coherent thought, before the visceral, violent clutch of blackness took her. She fought, clawing at the water, but couldn’t see, and the chill was sinking into her chest along with the flood of saltwater. The burning in her lungs hammered and seared, but she lacked the energy to struggle further, a slick, cold torpor had taken over. Death was coming, she knew, and the last thing she felt was a sudden tug on her back, something snatching her and yanking her back- the shark…may it be faster than this hell, oh Mistress, it hurts…

-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-

The agony of light and breath came back to her in molten instant, her whole body curling into a ball to vomit what felt like acid onto the sand- somehow, she was back on the beach once more. The retching came from her chest, though, and the pain would have made her scream if she’d had the lungs for it. Strong arms flipped her over on her belly, and almost instantly the pressure and pain started to relax, coughing up the next throat full of water was still wretched but easier. She clung to the lap of whoever had hold of her; the sensation of being trapped and running out of air was still exerting a primal fear in her, expelling the water had her writhing in panic.

“Xanthium.” Her father’s voice, impossibly- still, the sound of it cut through her distress. “Xanthium, please remove your fingernails from my legs. I have to concentrate.”

The soft command woke her from the shock, and she collapsed on him, heaving another mouthful of water out. She slumped over, still unable to take a deep breath. The burning in her chest was akin to the drowning; she retracted her grip from her father and reached for her throat, instead. He muttered something in Faendryl, too soft for her to hear, and a shimmering heat crossed her back under his hands. Her body was wracked with a sensation of invasive energy; suddenly she could breathe again. Slick liquid coated the back of her shift, and her father turned her over, meeting her gaze. They were both soaked, he stared at her with concern, his bright grey eyes shining through the strands of disheveled black hair. She coughed again, but this time it was restorative and brief. Her chest ached, however the constriction was mostly gone. He sighed in relief and tugged her up, kissing her lightly on the brow. The change in position helped clear her head and lungs, and she clung to him, the realization that she was safe and he’d saved her from that black coldness left her shaking and sobbing. He held her until she came around, brushing a few grains of sand and salt off her shoulders.

“Papa…” She drew back a few inches, enough to fold her arms over her chest, wincing at the soreness that yet lingered. “How? Why are you here, how did you know- and what was that, that you just did?”

He smiled, pushing the wet curls off her forehead to kiss her again, and answered the last question first. “I Phased the water out of your lungs.” He returned her confused expression to that with a smirk. “As to the why, that’s quite simple. I’ve been spying on you. And today that turned out to be more fortuitous than inappropriate, I believe.” He held off more questions with a slight shake of his head, pulling her arms open to look at her, and then himself. “Let’s get out of our wet clothes, and we’ll talk. Yes?”

She nodded, leaning heavily on him as he got them both up.

-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-Ξ-

A little while later, they were both seated on the porch of the Luna Rest, dry and in clothes fetched from their storage in Hale Hall. Her father gave her a cup of hot cocoa, and at first, she’d scowled- this was drink for a skittish toddler woken from a dream of monsters under the bed. Might as well have been warm milk. Her frown vanished the second she got a swallow down, as the heat and the thick cream calmed the sore ache in her throat. Her change in fortune still hadn’t set in, her body felt transfixed between the chill of the water and the frenetic energy from trying to breathe - one breath, please, just one more time. There was a touch on her arm, and Papa’s gaze brought her back in a little closer, out of the fog, and she gripped his hand, tightly until it felt real again. She wanted him to hug her, and it wasn’t his way. Nor her way to ask, much as she desired the comfort. Instead, she pictured Kothos, when she would see him later. She would be tucked under his arm, watching him sleep. This would make away with whatever distress the hot chocolate leaves behind. The fear in her was sated, for now, and she directed her thoughts elsewhere- looking up to stare at her father.

“How did you know I was in trouble? And how did you find me?”

He tugged her forward and kissed her forehead again, an affectionate gesture for him, which told her he was still as off-kilter as she felt. “I could see you well enough until you started dropping, and just when you were about to get out of eyesight I saw the bubble break. As for getting to you…” He tugged at the loose end of his belt, which he was still wearing, despite the fact that it had several frayed loops hanging off of it. “That rock you had your satchel hanging on is now on the ocean floor. I anchored myself to it and cut the straps here as soon as I reached your body. I was just glad you were still alive. Well, alive enough.” She stared at him in disbelief as he rummaged about in his duster to retrieve the satchel, handing it back to her.

She slid the pearl Kothos had given her out of its pocket, the gem’s surface still cool and smooth to the touch. So much for finding one for him, she was fortunate to still have this one at all. “And…how did you cast that spell?” She flicked her gaze back to her father, and he leaned back, sighing. He brought one hand up to his face, and where he touched his nose, a little well of dark blood slid out onto his fingertips. “It costs me. Sometimes, when I truly need it, I can recall some of the old cantrips. Each time it’s harder, and some of them I will never be able to call upon again. So, that may be the last time I’m able to Phase. Ever.” His words had a wistful note, framed with a little shudder of his shoulders as he spoke. The hand entwined with hers gave her a little clutching squeeze, and she drew her other hand back from the pearl and settled it atop their joined fingers.

“You know, I have deeds, yes?”

He fixed her with a look, one he usually reserved for their occasional prima donnas before what was sure to be their last curtain call. However, he finally laughed under his next breath, and replied. “Interesting what does not occur to you when your daughter is drowning in front of you, hm? You know you got your own issues with impulse from somewhere, yes?” She felt an immense flush of affection for him then, and could not resist longer, she flung her arms about his neck, and he surprised her further by returning the embrace with the same warmth. “I do not regret it. It would have been a good death, a far better memory than just watching you and leaving, as I have so often, Xanthium. However, you must keep that to yourself. I am trusting you, and you are now the only one who knows that some of the sorcerer magic is still open to me. If Melikor or even your sister finds out…”

She shook her head against his shoulder, and pulled back enough to look at him. The warning, and the look in his grey eyes, was among the few times she’d seen fear in her father’s bearing. He nodded, slowly, and she hugged him again; the rescue, the sacrifice and the trust did much to dispel the uncertainty that had lingered for years in their relationship. “I told you once about my expulsion from the Guild.” He began, stroking her hair as she listened. “And how they extracted the knowledge and memory from me. I perhaps did not include enough detail- it was nearly the death of me, final and horrible. It is the most painful thing I have endured in eighteen hundred years.”

Despite the warmth of the sun on the porch, a cold chill washed over Xanthium as he spoke, a fleeting memory of a night long ago, in an abandoned asylum, and then another only months past of being confronted in her dreams by her uncle’s wraith, that had left her lifeless in Ivas’ sanctum. Yes, she empathized with what it was to be haunted. “Papa. I don’t understand how Grandfather let that happen to you.”

His fingers stilled at her whisper, the pall manifesting as it always did at the mention of his father. “He agreed to it, as part of my punishment. Otherwise they would have just executed me.” She looked at him, sympathy for him flooding her once more. She also knew what secrets felt like when they finally came undone. “You also came by your adventuresome curiosity by me- me, and your uncle, my brother Seryth. He had a power like yours, his voice could unlock the nature of objects, buildings, ruins, even the stars could tell him in little whispers which way to go. Between that and what I had learned in the Guild, we thought we would be ready. To explore and discover, add to the knowledge of the Faendryl.”

She exhaled slowly, and his hand started its motion again, long fingers stroking her hair and temple. “Papa. You mean another valence.”

“Yes. Stories of such travels have been part of us for untold millennia. You know this; you’ve read all of them. There are legends of dimensions where we can leap over mountains with a single step, or there are a trinity of suns in the sky, where the flowers sing and the insects rule over lands. Or there’s no land at all, only vast oceans or thick fogs of green mist. We thought…” He looked down at her, managing a small look of humility, before continuing. “We thought we would write a tale of our own. And, I suppose we did. But rather than a legend, it has become a dirge.”

“We decided to explore the biggest mystery known to us. In the true manner of the arrogance of our kind, we chose the place forbidden to us. We opened a portal to Lorae’Tyr.”

Xanthium nodded, staring raptly at him while he spoke. She marveled at the way this year had changed her existence, shedding the isolation, the secrets and shyness, and here was another layer gone. She had always suspected that this had happened, but hearing it confirmed –Lorae’Tyr!- still rattled her. Still, she did indeed understand- a curious mind abhorred a vacuum. “Seryth used his bardic power to find fluctuations in Shieltine’s Ward, and once he had them located, I opened a portal within them, hoping to hide our passage from the Basilica. And we were successful, so we thought.”

“Lorae’Tyr is forbidden because of the temporal effects that it has- so we agreed to only go for a very short time, and leave should we witness any of the timeshifts in our vicinity. Ah, but the valence. Even after all the centuries, I remember it keenly. The smoky clusters of Igaesha shadows in the close, humid air. The lilting sound of the verlok in flight, the metal of their plumage glinting in the starlight. The place we crossed into was a dark, majestic bog, with green tendrils and bronze mist everywhere in sight. It was beautiful and unnerving. However, we did not have long to study it, despite our goals.”

Giliad Dyvim stilled his story for a few moments, reaching for his own tea mug and taking a cautious swallow, while glancing over the porch for anyone possibly listening in. Apparently satisfied, he continued. “We worked our way from our landing site toward a building we could see on the horizon, a series of stone columns almost overgrown with the swamp. Not unlike your Mistress’ hall in the Vipershroud. We saw lush vegetation, including things that were familiar to us. The clutches of orchids wound about the tree trunks look akin to the ones your mother grows, and the trees themselves I could swear were cypress, despite their bark being black in color, with hints of luminescence in the boughs.”

“While we journeyed, Seryth started to feel a pronounced dread- I felt it, too, but he was so affected he had to stop and rest even though we had only been walking a few minutes. He said he could feel the aura of the world about us marking us as alien, and he could not bond with its song. The columns beyond took on a shine of their own, just like the black trees around us. A violet pulse that took Seryth’s misgiving and elevated it to hysteria. The energy coursing through the loresong was remaking him, he said. Blood pooled in his ears, his eyes dilated with madness. We could continue no further, and I was thinking of how to get him back to the portal when he collapsed, utterly. He spasms and pawed at me, despite seeming to be all but unconscious.”

“The fit severed his connection to the Ward, and with it gone, I let go of the original portal and opened a new one where we were, desperate to get my brother out of this place. I held him, watching the dark, purple aura start to creep over him, like snake winding about him to constrict and devour my twin. And in his panic, he fought me, just as you did, under the water. Still, the magic obeyed my will and we left Lorae’Tyr. We wound up back in Father’s compound, and within minutes I had the company of the Basilica guildmasters along with your grandfather, while I clung to Seryth. He had gone deathly still, and the sorcerers took him from me. Your grandfather begged them to help, but I could tell by the looks they exchanged they had no idea what to do.”

“He never woke from his narcosis, whatever it was that had come through the valence’s mana into his song killed him, in their attempt to know one another. Our exploration had not brought knowledge, or adventure. Seryth died on the cobbles of his home, and I was sentenced to death by my teachers and superiors.”

Giliad swallowed more tea, and Xanthium looked up to see her father’s eyes shining with tears. “The guild had been waiting for the Ward to beckon them to another crossing, as over three months had passed since Seryth’s loresong had cracked through it to begin with, despite me only being aware of a few harrowing minutes of time passing. In that respect alone, I was fortunate. There are stories of those being displaced by centuries. After my sentence was pronounced, your grandfather made a last, desperate bargain with them, to convert my execution to something else.” He stopped again, and she wondered- for as long as she’d been alive, the two of them had never spoken. Yet, her power often whispered hints of great love between the two men, and hearing tell of her grandfather’s plea for his son’s life was a potent a revelation as the valence journey itself.

“They agreed to spare me. But their condition for this mercy was…severe.” He reached out and hugged her himself, a regretful sigh whistling past her ear. “The payment was to lose his surviving son, as well.”

“Papa. Do you mean…”

He nodded, loosening his embrace enough that he could look at her while he finished.

“Yes. My price for evading death and violating the Ward was that my father and I could never speak to one another again. Never to acknowledge one another in anything but the most nebulous of ways- say, by telling their daughter of this centuries later in a land far away…”

With that, his voice broke, and Xanthium held her father while he cried, the severance between the two that she loved so much resonating in her chest, a precious, lingering bond that had been cruelly used. All this time, she had assumed it was due to some conflict between the two men, but no. It was the Faendryl way-harsh, and exact- the punishment always fit the crime, and cost you so dear that the example would remind you eternally that they were not to be trifled with.

“When I saw you sinking with the current, I knew I had to tell you. Not just because you should know about your family and their history, but because you need to know that despite that loss, Seryth and my father, I would have changed none of it. Without that event, I never would have left the sorcerers’ guild, never would have come to the Landing and met your mother. And indeed, can you not think of some joy you have earned, in telling other people your truths? Venturing outside the walls you’ve brought with you?”

It was Xanthium’s turn to have her voice catch into a sob, and he smiled at her, pulling her back to his shoulder once more.

“Brother Blud is kind, and generous. He values you and you should trust him. He gives more than you even know, for the sake of what he feels for you. He has his own history of sacrifices that have lead him to you, at a guess. He won’t be intimidated, not even by your grim, mordant father.. Keep exploring, Xanthium. Those are the journeys that even when they hurt and burn you, they keep you blessed, and loved.”

He tugged her back to look at him, her dark eyes reflecting the pale silver of his own. “I know my father has plan for you, too. And you may yet play that role.” He reached for her hand again, and drew it up to his chest. “But you’re the one with your feet on the road. You wouldn’t be pearl diving into the deep if you didn’t want to find your own way. Use some of the faith we have in you to keep going.”

With that, he reached into a pocket and drew out a pearl, one that shined like the tears on his cheek. It was a dark violet, nearly the same shade as her eyes.

“Give this to him, and start your next chapter, my daughter. Win or die, drown or fly. No one will ever forget you.”