In Which Deian Gains a New Insight

November 24, 1163

"So it's settled, then?" cooed Ylwa as she rested her head against Deian's shoulder. "We head west next month?"

A hungry smile emerging on his lips, Deian nodded; he could almost taste the savory flesh now. "Indeed, my love. These Dovians are not exactly of a pleasing flavor, and the supply we brought back with us last time is nearing the end."

"Perhaps we should simply stay in Castile; after all, all creatures do live where they can feed, do they not?"

"Ah, but you know we cannot leave this place for long," he muttered, placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

She seemed to be growing restless, he could tell from her sudden shudder. "If They haven't come for us now, I think we can assume They never will."

Deian sighed, running his fingers along the curve of her side in an attempt to open her to reason. "Love, They will come--"

"Shut up. And do stop that--we are being watched."

Hastily, Deian looked up; indeed, their older son stood at their feet, staring down at them with as unfathomable an expression as ever. "Your senses must be failing you in your old age, Father."

"Oh, get lost!" Deian snapped.

Barely repressing his impatience, Veor sniffed. "Believe me, there is nothing I would rather do; however, Vron desires a word."

Humans, Deian had noticed over the years, were fools for their sons; he himself, however, was not about to be bossed around by a product of his own bodily fluids. "And you may give him this one--no."

Veor sighed. "It's about the Dovians."

Was it? Well, if that was the case, he knew what the problem was. "How many times must I tell you and your brother both to keep your little mongrel bastards in check? Especially your nephew--next time we run out of food, I say we eat him."

"This has nothing to do with any of those children," his son insisted. "Vron didn't give me any details. He just said to bring you to him."

Nodding, Deian glanced back toward Ylwa. "We'll continue when I return," he assured her with a wink.

She shrugged. "If I'm still in the mood, that is."

"You're always in the mood."

If she replied, he did not hear it; as soon as he had said his piece, he had stood and proceeded to follow his son further toward the heart of the forest. "This had better be worth my time."

"I'm just the messenger, Father; if you want to kill anyone in the end, start with Vron."

"I shall. I imagine he would make a better meal than you would anyway."

"I should hope so."

Deian snorted, though more out of indulgence than true amusement. "Fortunately, I won't have to taste either of your disgusting hides; how do you feel about heading west to hunt next month?"

"As long as Vron stays with the kids this time," agreed Veor.

Catching sight of a flash of magenta hair in the distance, Deian nodded. "After this, rest assured that he will."

They continued along their path for another minute or so until they were just behind Vron. His younger son did not react to their approach, but at the same time, Deian knew that Vron was well aware of their presence.

"All right, Brother," Veor addressed the other. "I've brought Father."

Vron turned around, glancing at his brother through narrowed, unimpressed eyes. "So I gathered from the scent of you both. Don't tell me what I already know."

The older of the two scowled. "You're welcome."

Deian didn't have time for this. If he cared to see some brotherly rivalry, he might have subtly suggested something more interesting for them to argue about. "Look, I don't have all day--what do you want?"

Vron's crimson eyes locked with Deian's own. "Father, I will be blunt. This morning, I had a vision."

"A vision?" he repeated. Now he was interested; never yet had any of them had a vision that had failed to come true. "A vision of what?"

His son tilted his eyes toward the leafy canopy above them, as though looking to the heavens for further confirmation--as if he needed it. "The Dovians. They are what is holding us back; our Ancestors will not come for us until the Dovians have left this place."

Deian's gaze flickered to and fro as splashes of red human blood conquered his sight. Even in all his wisdom, he could not help but believe that it was truly there; he could even smell it. "...I see."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Norwan Sees the Ugliest Color

December 4, 1158

There was a distinct rustling sound coming from Norwan's field, and it did not sound like the mere work of the wind. No... someone was there. Someone was trespassing.

Perhaps it was his whore of a wife, trying to rob him of his crops in order to support herself, wherever the hell she was living. Well, no matter where she was, she certainly wouldn't be coming back here, that was for sure, or at least not if the baby was a boy--in that case, she would leave the baby to him, and if she stayed on his property for a minute longer than she had to, he'd damn well kill her. If it was a girl... well, he'd have to put up with Thetis for at long enough to assure himself of an heir.

The baby had to be a boy. It had to be.

Angrily, he pushed open the gate and stormed into the field; to his great surprise, the trespasser wasn't Thetis at all. In fact, it wasn't even a single person.

There were two of them. Two small children, a boy and a girl, playing some sort of game, completely naked.

What was this? What sort of awful parents let their children run around wild at this ungodly hour? And in the buff, no less? And shouldn't these brats have at least had the decency to stay on their parents' own lands?

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he demanded of the two children; startled, both of them hurriedly leapt to their feet. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Get your worthless hides back to your own homes!"

The girl shuddered slightly. "Brother... maybe we leaves now, yes?" She seemed reluctant to look Norwan's way--the boy, however, faced him with a small smile. Norwan found his eyebrow raising as he noted the child's odd, gem-like eyes, as well as the strange black markings on his face. What sort of thing was this? Surely just some painted little prankster who happened to have eyes of a color even more bizarre than Thetis's?

"Sorry, Dovan-man," he addressed Norwan in the same odd manner as his sister. "You see... we plays here sometime, yes? Ground soft here. No worry though--we no eat you foodses. Plants is yuck... gives us rooserly Spanards, yes? Or buttery Frenchs?"

Norwan scowled. "Filthy little bastard! I have no time for your nonsense--either you leave my land with your head, or stay without!"

"That what Grandmama say, no? But she scary--everyone know she eat Grandpapa's ballses after Papa born, yes?"

"Disgusting!" barked Norwan. "Stupid little fucker! Why in the hell would I want to know what your whore grandmother does to your grandfather's... you know what? Just leave! Now--or God help me, I'll get my knife and fertilize my crops with your flesh!"

Again, the girl trembled, but the boy's unnatural eyes widened in what could only be described as excited curiosity.

"What is 'knife', Dovan-man?" he inquired brightly as his sister shied away behind him. "Is it foods? It it a naminimal? Ooooh, is it pretty, 'luptuous lady?"

The girl cringed as Norwan ground his bottom lip between his teeth. "Tavrin..."

"No worry, Iata, Dovan-man just--"

She let out a childish shriek as Norwan drove his fist across her brother's face. It felt immensely satisfying, making this kid finally shut up, putting the little ass-rag in his place; the girl's frightened squeal only added to his pleasure.

"Consider that a warning!" he shouted. "If you aren't gone by the time I count to ten, I'll do much worse to you! One... two..."

Slowly, the two of them backed away--he'd have much preferred it if they were quick about it.

"Three... five... nineteen..."

He'd given them ample time to hurry, but they had not seized the opportunity--useless little fuckers.

"Forty-eight... seventy-two... sixty-nine..."

They were still in the field. Why in the hell were they still in the field? Their blood was on their own hands.

"One hundred and twenty-eight... t--"

"Step away from my children, human."

Norwan had to blink--several times. As if he had materialized out of thin air, there was suddenly a man standing between himself and the children.

Well, if he could call it a 'man'. He was certainly male, his nudity revealed--but it was just as evident that whatever he was, he most definitely was not human. His skin glowed in the moonlight, a strange reddish design across his face. His magenta hair was held back in a tight braid, and his ears narrowed to fine points, like those of an elf.

"Did I fail to make myself clear?" the creature spat as Norwan did not comply. "I understand that these children are foolish young half-breeds who have yet to understand the concept of private property, but as their father, I command you to leave them alone!"

Defiantly, Norwan remained as he was. He was only a peasant, but he figured that he outranked this creature by sheer virtue of being human. Besides, this didn't even seem real--chances are, it was only a dream.

The creature's eyes were black where white should have been, and showed not the slightest trace of a pupil. Their eerie red was the very shade of blood--a color that Norwan had seen many times before, but had never truly noticed. Now, he saw it for what it was; it was the ugliest color in the world, even uglier than the color of Thetis's eyes.

"Wrong answer, human!" screamed the thing as it clenched his neck in its hands, squeezing and pressing as if the existence of the very world depended on it. His airway was blocked... his spine, cracking...

The color of the creature's eyes was the ugliest color Norwan had ever seen--and as, fate would have it, it was also the last he ever saw.

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