Chapter 4: Work It Out With My Charm
It’s Gonna Be Alright, Basixx, Easton
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Straud Manor was always a bit of a foreboding sight. It wasn’t as if Lilith was afraid of the place, it just seemed a bit harsher than it needed to be, a fortress of secrets, just like the one who lived within its walls, if one could call this living. Lilith took a breath in, watching the lights through the windows. Vlad didn’t even know what utilities were, and stuck with good old fashioned candlesticks for lighting. Lilith was fairly sure he didn’t even own a bookshelf to pass the time. That sounded rather boring, if one asked her. Thank the stars he never did.
Lilith flicked her black hair, straight and to her mid-back in length, over one shoulder, walking purposefully up to the door. As often it did, when Lilith reached the door, it opened on its own before she had a chance to knock. He loved to do that. Lilith thought he was corny.
She let herself in. The door closed behind her on its own, too, and Lilith walked through the foyer and into the living room. Vlad was, as it turned out, not there. She heard a quiet cough from upstairs. “Up here,” Vlad called. Lilith turned up towards the sound of his voice, and then shuffled to the staircase, following it up to the next level.
He seemed to be writing something. Lilith knew better than to ask about what it was, because Vladslaus was not a very open person to begin with. Instead, she settled down in a chair nearby.
“You’re awfully early today,” Vladislaus said, toned off-handed, but Lilith never knew him to say anything he didn’t find important in some way. He was an odd person to get used to. Caleb had a lot more trouble navigating his nuances, but then, Caleb was also a little bit easier to frustrate than she was. Lilith had virtually no emotions to speak of. When she had an emotional reaction to something, it was quiet, dim. Like it was barely there at all, as if someone else was feeling it. Some found it unnerving. Lilith found it greatly useful, because it meant when something important happened, she was far more capable of thinking rationally. Caleb was the one that reacted emotionally.
The older sibling was born first, to protect the ones that came after.
“Caleb’s run off somewhere,” Lilith said, crossing her legs in her seat. “I figured I’d see how you’re doing.” Vladislaus was an odd character, liked to sit back and watch the flames rather than bother attempting to put them out, but it was just as well. One might see this as wanton, needless destruction, but Lilith thought, aside from it being amusing to him, he was, in his way, teaching. As Lilith had learnt the hard way, the only one that could always be there when one needed somebody was yourself. It was better to teach someone to protect themselves, than to always be there to save them.
“He never stays in one place, does he?” Vladislaus asked. Lilith could tell, by the tone of his voice, that he didn’t frankly care, so she didn’t answer. “Miss Hell and Kat Cave have been awfully absent of late,” he said.
Lilith snorted. “You know Miss Hell’s rather ambitious,” she replied. “Well, annoying more like.”
“You should try to get along with her, Lilith,” Vlad said.
“I have,” Lilith answered. “She has no interest in getting along with me, and I have to admit, my personal interest drastically fell around the second or third sentence she said to me.”
Vladislaus snorted, closing the book he was writing in and setting the pen down on the desk. “You girls always did confuse me,” he said.
“Count yourself blessed that you’re confused,” Lilith grumbled.
Vladislaus went quiet, watching the fireplace from the balcony. After a long moment, Lilith said, “something feels wrong.” Like something was changing, something big.
Vladislaus snorted. “Of course,” he said. “That’s because things are changing.”
Lilith waited a moment for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Lilith tilted her head. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“What else would I mean, child?” Vladislaus snapped. “I mean, things are changing. That’s what things do, they change.”
Lilith tried not to sigh too loudly. Vladislaus was never very good at saying what he meant. One had to word things in a very specific way, if they wanted a specific answer, Lilith knew this. It’d been too long since last she’d spoken with the grand master, it’d seem, because she’d seemingly forgotten it.
“Do you know what’s changing?” she asked. That might do it.
Vladislaus seemed annoyed, shooting her a glance, but then he turned back to the fireplace. “There is a storm coming,” he said. “What I don’t know is, who will still be standing by the end of that storm. For the sake of Forgotten Hollow, and everyone in it, I do hope one of them is you.”
A storm was coming, he said, like that made sense of everything. Lilith figured he meant the figurative sense of the word storm, of course. Perhaps a conflict between vampire covens. There were several of them, quite large and powerful ones, even. If Vladislaus felt like doing so, he could’ve made a coven out of Forgotten Hollow and its denizens, but he was… not terribly into people, much less leading them. His tolerance of her presence right now was almost surprising.
Still, that last part confused her, and she frowned slightly to herself, one hand raising to her lips. “Why?” she asked him.
Vladislaus glared at her. “If you haven’t figured that out yet, you’re a greater idiot of a child than I first thought you were,” he said, and then, before Lilith could respond, he stood up and burst into mist. Lilith released a sigh, turning to the wall, resting her hand on the armrest and her chin in her palm. Vladislaus was sure annoying to deal with sometimes. Still, he was her sire, and as grating as he was, she needed him.
It wasn’t like he was the only one that could teach her to master her powers as a vampire. He was just the most easily accessible. Lilith released another sigh, and stood up. She may as well go home. He’d be in a sour mood for a few hours.
“Again.” The frustration in Morgyn’s voice was almost palpable. Not far away, L. and Ezio were watching, as Morgyn at least attempted to walk another spellcaster through successfully casting an Inferniate. It was, of course, Morgyn’s speciality (whenever someone got to casting Chillio for the first time, Ezio would likely need to help with that).
“What am I doing wrong?” the spellcaster asked.
Morgyn snorted softly. “That’s for you to figure out. Now, again.”
The spellcaster glanced at L. and Ezio, and then sighed, and tried again. While the young woman, dusky skin, bright blue eyes, and tightly-curly dark brown hair, managed to produce a burst of flame, it didn’t sustain, and spluttered out.
Morgyn groaned in annoyance. “You’re still not doing it right.”
“Knowing what I’m doing wrong would help,” the woman answered.
“What do you think you’re doing wrong?” Morgyn asked.
“I don’t know!”
The sound of frustration in her tone managed to make Ezio wince. L. glanced towards him, but he still stepped forward. “Alright, what Morgyn means is that you’re trying too hard to make it a big burst of flame, but fire needs to be left to be whatever it will be,” he said.
Morgyn, however, unleashed an annoyed shriek, spun on one heel, and stalked off.
Ezio winced again. L. rolled her eyes, waving a hand to tell Ezio to stay, and turned to follow Morgyn. The blond moved up the stairs to the balcony, where Morgyn often was anyway, and rather immediately knocked over a stack of boxes.
Morgyn was rather prone to such outbursts. Only Ezio seemed to have any luck, preventing them. Of course, L. wasn’t Ezio. Only he had a way of telling someone everything they were doing wrong without being a jerk about it.
No one had ever said L.’s name and the word ‘kind’ in the same sentence before, however, and that wasn’t about to change now.
“You’re being a complete and utter insufferable asshole,” L. said, walking out onto the balcony. “I do hope you’re aware of that. Want to talk about it?”
Morgyn snorted. “No,” was the flat response. “I’d rather be left alone.”
“Well it’s either you talk to me, or you talk to your brother, and you know how delicate he can be,” L. said. “Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s got the ability to push you, and right now I think you need to be. You’ve got just a little more attitude than I typically find to be tolerable, but that’s okay, so do I. Talk to me.”
Morgyn was quiet for a moment, then reached one leg out and slammed it into the side of another tower of boxes. It crashed to the floor. “There’s nothing to talk about.” That was Morgyn’s story, and the blond was sticking to it, and L. could be a bitch about it if she wanted.
“Like hell,” L. answered. “I can sit here badgering the fuck out of you until you talk to me. You and I both know your patience will eventually wane. I can get under your skin, nothing to it. Actually, you’re quite easy to irritate, you might want to work on that.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Morgyn asked.
“Of course not,” L. said. “Mischief and mayhem are part of the job description. Irritating the Untamed Sage sounds like quite viable mischief and mayhem to me. Hey, maybe you’ll set something on fire, I do so love random fires, all the chaos. Mmmm.”
Morgyn’s eyes closed for a moment. “You could sound just a little less pleased with that.”
“Why?” L. asked. “Isn’t it fun to you? The thrill of imminent danger, the potential for everything to go wrong, the rawness of not knowing the outcome for certain? No? Just me? Alright.”
Morgyn turned slightly, giving L. a look, and then went back to watching the water. The sound of it was calming, and right now, it would be best if Morgyn calmed down. Ezio was far better suited to this.
“The only thing I can think,” L. said, walking towards the balcony railing, clasping her hands together in front of her, “is that there’s some purpose to being an unmitigated bitch. What I can’t figure out is what that purpose might be.”
Morgyn’s gaze glanced the other way.
L. tisked. “Of course,” she said. “You know, it’s almost like you’re purposely being a terrible teacher. I’m not sure why that’d be, either.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Morgyn asked. “If I’m not good at this, then the All has to rescind its decision and choose someone else.”
“Oh, dear I don’t think that’s how that’ll turn out,” L. said. “The All knows what’s in your heart, Morgyn, probably far better than you do. The All knows everything. They say the All was created by volur, the practitioners of the art of weaving the future. There’s likely very little, about you and your path, the All does not know.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Morgyn asked. “Because honestly, it’s just a little creepy.”
“Of course it is,” L. replied. “You’ve never learnt to let anyone but Ezio even this close. But there is always something that understands, Morgyn, even if it’s not great at being good company. You’re never alone as you think you are.”
Morgyn was quiet. L. recognised it, the same as Ezio always did, when Morgyn was thinking deeply. L. found the process fascinating, how Morgyn could be totally silent, and yet so very loud.
Morgyn’s weight shifted. “I don’t want it to take him away from me,” the blond said, softly.
L. tilted her head in curiosity. “You don’t want what to take who away from you?”
“This Sage thing,” Morgyn answered. “I don’t want being a Sage to take Ezio away from me.”
“Why would you think it’d do that?” L. asked. And she was genuinely curious. Morgyn’s fears, though sometimes objectively silly, were important. It was another important piece to learning to listen to the voice inside.
“He can’t follow me,” Morgyn said. “And I can’t always follow him. There’ll be a lot of time we’re apart, now. We both have other things to do, and I don’t know if he’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh please,” L. said, huffing. Morgyn looked a bit hurt in those green eyes, but L. didn’t mind it. She hurt people, sometimes, but in hurting, they listened. “Right now you’re being ridiculous. Anyone can go away at any time. Tomorrow is never, and will never be, a promise, you know that as well as I do. Sometimes, bad things happen. You can’t sit down and refuse to move because something might go wrong, or because the inevitable reality is that we’re all human and humans die. We don’t live, Morgyn, because we’re alive. We live because someday, we won’t be.”
Morgyn was quiet again. Eventually, the blond released a sigh. “I should apologise to Stella, huh?”
“And perhaps Ezio,” L. said. “It’s somewhat unkind of you to use him as an excuse not to reach for your greatest potential.” L. turned and went back towards the stairs. Morgyn, however, released another sigh. She was right. Morgyn was starting to learn that L. often was.
Very softly, Ezio could still hear it, that mysterious song that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. He still wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but by now, he didn’t believe it was malicious. He’d been wrong about things like that before, but he could feel it in his heart. Whatever it was, it was good, and it needed help. Why it’d chosen him, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he could ask it.
Ezio was quiet, but Drake kept glancing at him. Eventually, Ezio sighed. “What?” he asked.
Drake shrugged. “You just seem upset about something.”
Sometimes, how well Drake could read him still managed to surprise him. He’d learnt all of Ezio’s little nuances a long time ago, way back then in France, when Ezio was a stupid little boy, and Drake was his only friend. Gosh, he owed Drake his life many, many times over.
But there were times when, Ezio wasn’t certain if he was glad for it, or if he wished Drake had let him die back then. Of course, Morgyn would be alone, maybe still stuck with only Aine for guidance, maybe without Ezio around, Aine could’ve done a lot more damage than she did.
Maybe the twin that remained would be a psychopath.
“Just thinking,” Ezio said.
“Usually when you think, it’s about something important,” Drake answered, setting his book down in his lap. “What’s going on?”
Ezio smiled slightly, glancing down at the wood floor. “Morgyn snapped earlier today. Seems to be having temper fits more often now.”
“Morgyn’s always having a temper fit about something,” Drake said. “I don’t think they’re any more frequent than before.”
“They feel like it,” Ezio replied. “They feel more important, too. Like there’s something really bothering Morgyn, but, nothing’s ever said about it.”
“You know Morgyn’s like that,” Drake said. “Introverted-extrovert, if that’s even a thing you can possibly be.”
It was a strange thought, for sure, but Ezio thought it was about right. Morgyn was so outgoing and enthusiastic, charismatic was the term, if he remembered right. And yet there were always things Morgyn never said, parts of the blond that were kept hidden away, sometimes even from him.
Ezio didn’t always like it. But he supposed, he wasn’t meant to, and it didn’t matter, in this instance, what he liked or didn’t.
“I know,” he said. “It’s just, something’s bothering Morgyn and I keep asking, but never get an answer. Morgyn rarely ever keeps me out, too. I’m not blind. Morgyn always says there’s nothing wrong, but I can see it.” He wasn’t sure where to start, what it might be. It was possible that it was absolutely nothing, like Morgyn said, but Ezio was well convinced it was important. Maybe L. had said something again. Unsurprisingly, L. was quite good at messing with people’s heads and making them think, and that wasn’t always a good thing.
“Unfortunately, sometimes, Morgyn needs to do things without you,” Drake said. “Maybe this is one of those things.”
“Maybe,” Ezio said. “I’m just really worried, that’s all.”
“As you always are,” Drake said. “I know that’s just something you’ll do, too, worry about Morgyn. But you can’t make all of Morgyn’s problems your own.”
Ezio snorted softly. “That’s just how it works,” he said. “Morgyn’s problems are my problems.”
“I understand there’s always going to be an Ezio that exists where Morgyn does,” Drake said quietly. “But there has to be an Ezio that exists where Ezio does.” The stress, honestly, couldn’t be good for him. They’d already seen what Ezio being under too much stress did, it wasn’t anything good, and Drake hated it.
Ezio looked confused for a moment, but then the light dawned in those grey eyes, and he nodded slightly, turning towards the floor in thought, the light shimmering in the blackness of his hair. Ezio was one of those people that was hard to look at, and also hard not to look at, or at least, he was for Drake.
“I guess,” Ezio said. “It’s just habit now, I guess, to think about it, worry too much about Morgyn. What’s my day if I haven’t worried about Morgyn, I guess.”
Drake smiled sadly. “That’s my point.”
Ezio knew it was. If their roles were reversed, if Drake was the one with the slightly-chaotic sibling, Ezio would probably be telling him the same thing. He didn’t know how to stop, how to step back and let Morgyn figure things out without him. They’d been together for so long now, and Ezio had always been so protective of the blond, it was difficult to change very old habits. Even if he could, Ezio wasn’t certain that he wanted to.
Things were the way they were, or so some said. It was something like, nothing’s really broken, so why bother changing? Change happens most of the time when something needs to be fixed, done differently, not just because.
But that was the fundamental difference, wasn’t it? Drake saw Ezio’s overprotectiveness of Morgyn as detrimental to him. Ezio didn’t.
“Hey, try not to worry too much, either,” Ezio said, smiling.
Drake snorted softly. “You and I both know that it’s not that simple.”
Yes, Ezio did know that. He still wondered, even now, hundreds of years later, he’d long lost count, why Drake cared. Maybe that was just going to be one of those many mysteries. Ezio cared about Drake, because he –
“If you ask enough, maybe eventually Morgyn will crack,” Drake said. “Morgyn always did have trouble saying no to you, particularly repeatedly.”
Yeah… Embers were stubborn, but Ezio was also an Ember. Well, sort of. Ezio was really more of a snowflake than an ember.
“I guess so,” Ezio replied. “I just hate pushing Morgyn if I don’t have to.”
“You also know what happens when Morgyn bottles feelings,” Drake said. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right, and Morgyn probably needs to talk, and I think you’re the only one that can make that happen.”
“Glad you have so much faith in me,” Ezio said, laughing quietly.
Drake glanced down at the floor. “I always have,” he said.
Ezio blinked in surprise, and then turned bright red. Ezio had never thought about it before, mostly because it was embarrassing to think about, but he supposed it was true. He smiled slightly, drawing in a breath. “I should uh, go see if I can find Morgyn, I suppose,” he said. “Thanks for listening to me.”
“Of course,” Drake said. “And good luck with Morgyn.”
Ezio snorted. He’d need the luck, he was sure. With that, Ezio stood up, but he only made it a few steps before everything went black. Drake shot to his feet, catching Ezio as he fell to the floor and breaking the fall. For a moment, he was quiet, resting his head against Ezio’s chest and listening. His heart was doing that weird erratic fluttering thing it did from time to time. Gently, Drake reached down and picked Ezio up off the floor, carrying him to his room. That conversation with Morgyn would have to wait.
Ezio had run off somewhere, and Morgyn had a social function to go to. He’d been on bed rest for several days now, and he was always excited to get up and do things once he was feeling well enough to move around, but Morgyn needed some help finding something to wear, and the only help was gone. Morgyn was glad he was feeling better, though. It was always upsetting when he collapsed like that, and the worst part was, they had no idea why or how to fix it more permanently. Drake did something, and eventually made it level back out. He called it a form of mind control, whatever that meant, but Morgyn trusted him, especially with Ezio.
So, here Morgyn was, rummaging through dressers and the closet, trying to find something that’d work. Morgyn was so picky about fashion in the first place, it was usually Ezio going ‘you’re really cute in that’ that made Morgyn decide to go with something.
Sure, Morgyn could go ask literally anyone else. L. and Simeon, for instance. Morgyn just didn’t trust anyone but Ezio not to make the blond look bad.
Morgyn picked up one of the many sweater dresses the blond owned, stood up, and held it up in front of the mirror. No. The blond tossed that one into the ‘no’ pile, reached down and picked up another, holding it up. Not that one, either.
A frustrated noise escaped, and Morgyn tossed the second sweater into the pile of not happening, flopping down on the floor and leaning against the bed frame. Morgyn tried imagining something that Ezio would like. They were twins, and they’d been around each other for so long, it seemed pretty likely that Morgyn could just, channel the inner Ezio, or something to that effect. Was that a thing? It should be.
But, nothing came to mind. The more Morgyn thought about it, the blurrier the mental image got. It was almost like Morgyn didn’t actually have any idea what the blond looked like. There was the light skin, the blond hair that fell to the middle of the back, just past the bra strap, the green eyes. Yet the details were all out of focus, blurry and hazy like they were of someone Morgyn had only seen on the street once or twice, buying wands in Caster’s Alley, feeding the stray familiars.
Green eyes flicked up to the mirror. The blond remembered what happened the last time Morgyn had paid too much attention to the Morgyn in the mirror. That Morgyn felt like someone else. Like someone that had tried too hard to be something they weren’t. Ah, yeah. That sounded about right.
Morgyn released a sigh, legs crossing on the floor. Apparently, the blond wasn’t too much of an expert in the subject of Ezio fashion. Ezio was probably out there in Caster’s Alley playing with the dog familiars or something, and like L. had implied, at least, they had separate lives now. Morgyn couldn’t keep leaning on Ezio. Sooner or later, there wouldn’t be an Ezio to lean on, if the last few days were any indication. Morgyn might hate it, but there was no sense trying to fight inevitability, either.
The blond turned to face the door. Through the glass, Morgyn could see Ezio’s door across the hall. Maybe wandering through Ezio’s closet would help for getting an idea of what Ezio would suggest than going through Morgyn’s own closet.
Morgyn stood up, going across the hall, and into Ezio’s room. It smelled just slightly of mint, tea, and fresh paper, though there was some kind of herbal tonic scent in the air, too. Morgyn’s fingers ran across the wood of Ezio’s dresser, smiled at the photos sitting on it, old memories. The time Morgyn had pushed Ezio into the creek behind headquarters, duelling one another on the island just up a ways, baking a cake for their birthday one year… Morgyn’s heart squeezed, and the blond turned away, shuffling for the closet.
As Morgyn pulled it open, the scent of mint and tea got stronger, the scent that was distinctly Ezio. Maybe it wasn’t mint and tea. Who knew? Most things in Ezio’s closet, naturally, were white, black, or grey. Morgyn had once thought he needed more colour in his closet, but the muted neutral shades really did it for him, and the palette kind of set off his eyes.
Morgyn was into red. Of course. Why it couldn’t have been green, that the world may never know. At least red and blond went well together, there was that to be glad for. (Morgyn had set everyone that might say the blond looked like a Christmas tree on fire by now, so such comments no longer occurred.)
Black was definitely Ezio’s colour. Morgyn was fairly certain the blond couldn’t pull black off. Just for fun, though, Morgyn pulled the red shirt the blond was in off, and squirmed into one of Ezio’s black turtlenecks. Morgyn smiled slightly in amusement, and then turned around and looked up at the mirror over Ezio’s dresser. The smile dropped. Morgyn turned back around, shrugging the grey blazer that went over it on, and looked back towards the mirror, and for a moment, forgot how to breathe.
It felt oddly correct, in a way nothing else had before. It was closer than before, at least. It still felt a bit wrong, but also very right. That was probably the most frustrating part. Morgyn didn’t hate it, but also did and did not like it. Certainly, the blond wasn’t as annoyed with it as Morgyn was with the huge amount of red and frilly, it was kind of amazing how much lace Morgyn owned.
Morgyn turned to the side, and frowned. Then, the blond pulled the turtleneck tighter, causing Morgyn’s chest to go a little flatter. Oh. Morgyn frowned for a moment or two, thinking. And then the blond scurried back across the hallway, rummaging through the dresser. Morgyn pulled the turtleneck up and wrapped a scarf, relatively tightly, around the blond’s chest, making it go even flatter. The turtleneck was pulled back down into place, and Morgyn looked up at the mirror, and turned to the side.
L. and Ezio were right.
There was no time for that right now. Morgyn frowned again, at the eyeliner and red lipstick, but Morgyn didn’t have the time to fuss with it. It looked fine. Morgyn huffed, and then scurried back out and down the stairs. It was time to go, and Ezio would just have to deal with Morgyn borrowing one of his shirts.
The problem with being sick in magic realm, no one knew what was wrong, or how to fix it.
Ezio had been sick for a long time now, since not long after coming to magic realm in the first place. Things had seemed fine, and though he had some weird reactions to certain things, he was just like everyone else. Then, one day, it felt like something was trying to escape his chest, and he passed out. Drake always maintained that his heart became a rapidly beating, frantic mess, and he didn’t understand why. Neither did anyone else.
It wasn’t that magic didn’t have the ability to heal. Anything was possible with magic, Ezio and pretty much every other spellcaster believed that. The issue was that they’d never had a reason to learn how.
Ezio had started playing with the idea of using magic to heal, had even figured out how to encourage a speedier natural healing process to heal scrapes, cuts, and minor burns, but he hadn’t managed anything more complicated. It didn’t help that Ezio had no idea what he was fighting. Something was wrong with his heart, that was all he knew, and he’d already learned, quite quickly, that it was difficult to fight ‘something.’
Every time he thought about it, there was this sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. The sense that, he might be gone much sooner than he’d like. Of course, he could get hit by lightning or crushed by a meteor tomorrow, so it wasn’t as if anything changed, it just felt like something did.
Even in fearing it, he did recognise that what he really feared was the unknown, was uncontrollable circumstances, of leaving Morgyn and Drake when they still needed him, not death. (Did Drake need him? That was a consideration to ponder some other time.)
For the first time in two hundred years, at least, Ezio stepped through the portal just outside magic headquarters. As he stepped out on the other side, in a small, sleepy village he didn’t know the name of (something to do with shiny water), he was immediately aware that it was awfully cold, and then he saw the snow falling.
Ezio couldn’t help it. A sudden breath released, as he smiled slowly but brightly at the sight and sound of the snowfall. Magic realm was always the same, it was difficult to track the seasons, but, as it turned out, it was white and cold and winter. He held his arms out, spun around slightly in the cool air. After a moment of enjoying the crisp air and watching his breath hang in front of him before vanishing, Ezio followed the pathway from the portal.
There were strange things he’d never seen before. There was a boat on the other side of the… was this a creek or a river? Ezio didn’t know. The boat had something square-shaped and red and white on it, and Ezio wondered what that was and what it was for. There were tall black coloured poles with fires at the top, but he wasn’t sure how the flame burned in the inside of those glass containers. If you cut off a fire’s air source, it usually burnt out. The air smelled strange, like smoke and not. Ezio wasn’t sure how to describe it, even in his own head.
Ezio smiled as he walked, taking in the sights, breathing in the fresh air, enjoying the brightness of the real sun, no matter how hidden behind clouds it may be. He wanted to stay forever, but, no. He had somewhere to be about now, and the trouble with being gone from this world for so long was, he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was.
He supposed, he could ask someone, if he happened to find someone that knew how to get where he was going. There must be some sort of place that counted as a community gathering location, somewhere the village folk went when they were bored and wanted to blow some money. (People did still do that, right?)
That thought in mind, Ezio moved forward through the snow. There were bridges over the water, the creek-river moving so rapidly that the water didn’t have the chance to freeze. The snow made a soft hissing sound as it swirled around and fell to the ground. Some of the fires on the dark poles made strange buzzing sounds. He wasn’t quite sure what for, but he supposed he didn’t have to understand it.
Ezio liked to understand things. It made them easier to deal with and accept for him, and he was always curious anyway. Most of his outward curiosity, Jean had killed it, but there was still a little boy in him somewhere that had never stopped asking what, why, how? Just because he’d stopped listening to that boy and his incessant questions, it didn’t mean he wasn’t there.
Sometimes, though, understanding the semantics of something, it took all the fascination and magic away from it. Sure, things could be understood, no problem. With enough time and research, observation, critical thinking, you could come to understand damned near anything, Ezio would bet.
But the thing about it, and the massive difference between Morgyn’s approach to logical understanding and Ezio’s, was that Ezio thought that, sometimes things weren’t meant to be understood. They were meant to be experienced. Or… maybe it was the nigh consistent sense of his own imminent death that made him feel that way. Like he had to go out and do things rather than just read about them in books and somehow convince himself he learnt something. He loved books, of course. But books weren’t life.
That was a house… that was also a house… Ezio found himself admiring the masonry on the stone bridge as he crossed it, hearing the buzzing sound from the fires on the poles, the wind kicking up and howling slightly. If you listened to it long enough, it really did start to sound like wolves. He kept walking. There was another house. He wondered if he’d know a community space if he saw one. It’d be a shame if this little village didn’t even have a library. You knew your little village was extra little when you didn’t even have a library, for shame.
Ah, there over the hill was another building, and it seemed to have some kind of sign in front of it. It didn’t look like a house, though he wasn’t sure what all that blank space was around it. Well, no matter. Ezio took a breath in, and trudged a little more determinedly. Someone had to know how to get where he was going.
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