The Blood Hound
Nothing? She wanted to protest, to tell him she could easily tell that it wasn't nothing. Instead she bit her lower lip, keeping her words in. Maybe if she gave him a few moments of silence he would remember that they were two people who could talk to each other. She had kept nothing back from him at any point; not just her confession on the bathroom floor, which, was sort of stupid to do. But beyond that. She told him time and time again what was on her mind, what her will was, what most of her hopes were. If he was not the same, she couldn't tell, because it felt true, it felt as though he was doing with her as she was with him regarding that.
She smiled when he kissed her, and then rolled onto his back. Not wanting to break their physical contact, she snuggled closely, finding her natural place in the rook of his arm. She never wanted to leave it.
And then he at last voiced his concern. Scherezade didn't need him to add more than that to understand his fear regarding Endelaan.
"It's not," she tried to reassure him, her fingers gingerly going up and down his torso, wanting to touch him, needing to touch him, "Endelaan is not a perfect place. There are many things we've talked about though that are completely different there than they are on Stewjon, or even within the Confederacy."
Would that be enough to assure him? She somehow doubted that.
"Endelaan has had its fair share of power struggles, of needlessly spilled blood," she began, "the current set up of Endelaan exists of four main tribes. Vashti, Manasseh, Moab, and Zeresh," and I want to add a fifth but I don't want to tell you about it yet, "There used to be more. A long time ago, clan Zeresh ruled the clans. But when my mother claimed her place as Queen there, Zeresh was small, and almost nothing. But something had shifted within Zeresh. The people who once had the most pull on the planet had become fearful little things, unable to properly take care of themselves. They became social pariahs, unwanted and undesired by the other clans, for reasons that I'm not going to go into now. They developed... Certain superstitions.
After being mostly secluded for a few centuries, something shifted in them. In the past, they had sent their Force Users to Clan Vashti, the current strongest clan, for proper training and for a chance at a better life than their meager clan could provide. But someone noticed that these had ceased entirely. It had been decades since last a Force User emerged from Zeresh. So when my mother went to investigate, she discovered that there was a reason for that. In their blindness, Zeresh blamed the Force Users for their ill luck, blamed those who were Force Users for it. When children began to show their talents with the Force, and on Endelaan there are many people who have that, Zeresh murdered them and his their bones beneath the grounds."
It was not a fun story. It was not even a story that she knew because of her grandmother. It had been Verberri who told her that. Verberri, who was among the last of the children to make it out of Zeresh, by luck of being so sick and her face so infected that she had lost her eyes, that she had been sent to Vashti for medical care. Only after treatment did her powers become known, and her life saved.
"My mother raged when she discovered what they had done," she continued, "Her views on children are... She believes children are almost sacred. She wanted to have lots of them. Because of the circumstances of mine and Brayden's birth, she never did, and never will."
The pain came through with that last sentence. Scherezade knew she was meant to have many siblings, not just Brayden. She also knew she had none besides him. Her mother had gotten pregnant too early, had given birth on a planet that had limited medical resources. She had also been hit by a Sith woman who ruined her reproductive system entirely. The fact that she had gotten pregnant at all was a miracle. And then Scherezae and Brayden had insisted on coming out embracing each other.
Scherezade felt a pang of guilt over it, even though it had not been her direct doing, even though she was not the one who had turned her mother's womb to ash.
"She was also a Necromancer, among other things," Scherezade continued, swallowing back the pain, "she found the bones of the children. Hundreds of them. She raised their skeletons and placed them around the clan's territory, forming a wall of children that could not be broken. She cursed them for a few generations. Any who did not have abilities with the Force and tried to leave would be shredded apart immediately. Only Force Users could leave. Skeletons regularly walked through the clan, looking for signs of abuse. She would have none of it. Any who did as much as raise a hand against a child would find their death."
Scherezade raised herself a little and kissed Gerwald's shoulder.
"So no, Endelaan is far from perfect," she resumed, "mistakes on Endelaan are made. You can't run a planet without making them. You can't even run a household without making them. But there are core believes that reside on Endelaan, and those will never be broken without consequences, and that is that those who wield the Force are important, regardles of their blood line. Power, strength, whether physical or not, are respected. It's what they understand. The story of Zeresh served to remind those who had dared forget it."
She was smiling now, grinning widely, "and you would be more than welcome there. You are strong, Gerwald. There is raw strength and power in you that the training on Stewjon did not uncover. Endelaan respects people for what they are, not where they were born to or who their parents are.They would take one sniff at you and know you for what you are. Lupine. Powerful. Strong. Scar bearing." Her fingers ran along the scars that decorated his naked body. He was a Warrior, like she was. He had them. Each one told a story, each one was a lesson learned. "Tall, handsome," she continued, completely delving into the personal aspects that no one on Endelaan save for her would care about, "the safest embraces in the 'verse..." she resumed, kissing his shoulder again.
"The Knights will help you uncover some of it," she forced herself back to reality, "I will help you uncover some of it. But you will walk the galaxy and find more than that. Your freedom does not end with being an equal among the Confederacy, Gerwald, nor does it with end with you being comfortable both as man and wolf. Your freedom merely starts with it."
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
She smiled when he kissed her, and then rolled onto his back. Not wanting to break their physical contact, she snuggled closely, finding her natural place in the rook of his arm. She never wanted to leave it.
And then he at last voiced his concern. Scherezade didn't need him to add more than that to understand his fear regarding Endelaan.
"It's not," she tried to reassure him, her fingers gingerly going up and down his torso, wanting to touch him, needing to touch him, "Endelaan is not a perfect place. There are many things we've talked about though that are completely different there than they are on Stewjon, or even within the Confederacy."
Would that be enough to assure him? She somehow doubted that.
"Endelaan has had its fair share of power struggles, of needlessly spilled blood," she began, "the current set up of Endelaan exists of four main tribes. Vashti, Manasseh, Moab, and Zeresh," and I want to add a fifth but I don't want to tell you about it yet, "There used to be more. A long time ago, clan Zeresh ruled the clans. But when my mother claimed her place as Queen there, Zeresh was small, and almost nothing. But something had shifted within Zeresh. The people who once had the most pull on the planet had become fearful little things, unable to properly take care of themselves. They became social pariahs, unwanted and undesired by the other clans, for reasons that I'm not going to go into now. They developed... Certain superstitions.
After being mostly secluded for a few centuries, something shifted in them. In the past, they had sent their Force Users to Clan Vashti, the current strongest clan, for proper training and for a chance at a better life than their meager clan could provide. But someone noticed that these had ceased entirely. It had been decades since last a Force User emerged from Zeresh. So when my mother went to investigate, she discovered that there was a reason for that. In their blindness, Zeresh blamed the Force Users for their ill luck, blamed those who were Force Users for it. When children began to show their talents with the Force, and on Endelaan there are many people who have that, Zeresh murdered them and his their bones beneath the grounds."
It was not a fun story. It was not even a story that she knew because of her grandmother. It had been Verberri who told her that. Verberri, who was among the last of the children to make it out of Zeresh, by luck of being so sick and her face so infected that she had lost her eyes, that she had been sent to Vashti for medical care. Only after treatment did her powers become known, and her life saved.
"My mother raged when she discovered what they had done," she continued, "Her views on children are... She believes children are almost sacred. She wanted to have lots of them. Because of the circumstances of mine and Brayden's birth, she never did, and never will."
The pain came through with that last sentence. Scherezade knew she was meant to have many siblings, not just Brayden. She also knew she had none besides him. Her mother had gotten pregnant too early, had given birth on a planet that had limited medical resources. She had also been hit by a Sith woman who ruined her reproductive system entirely. The fact that she had gotten pregnant at all was a miracle. And then Scherezae and Brayden had insisted on coming out embracing each other.
Scherezade felt a pang of guilt over it, even though it had not been her direct doing, even though she was not the one who had turned her mother's womb to ash.
"She was also a Necromancer, among other things," Scherezade continued, swallowing back the pain, "she found the bones of the children. Hundreds of them. She raised their skeletons and placed them around the clan's territory, forming a wall of children that could not be broken. She cursed them for a few generations. Any who did not have abilities with the Force and tried to leave would be shredded apart immediately. Only Force Users could leave. Skeletons regularly walked through the clan, looking for signs of abuse. She would have none of it. Any who did as much as raise a hand against a child would find their death."
Scherezade raised herself a little and kissed Gerwald's shoulder.
"So no, Endelaan is far from perfect," she resumed, "mistakes on Endelaan are made. You can't run a planet without making them. You can't even run a household without making them. But there are core believes that reside on Endelaan, and those will never be broken without consequences, and that is that those who wield the Force are important, regardles of their blood line. Power, strength, whether physical or not, are respected. It's what they understand. The story of Zeresh served to remind those who had dared forget it."
She was smiling now, grinning widely, "and you would be more than welcome there. You are strong, Gerwald. There is raw strength and power in you that the training on Stewjon did not uncover. Endelaan respects people for what they are, not where they were born to or who their parents are.They would take one sniff at you and know you for what you are. Lupine. Powerful. Strong. Scar bearing." Her fingers ran along the scars that decorated his naked body. He was a Warrior, like she was. He had them. Each one told a story, each one was a lesson learned. "Tall, handsome," she continued, completely delving into the personal aspects that no one on Endelaan save for her would care about, "the safest embraces in the 'verse..." she resumed, kissing his shoulder again.
"The Knights will help you uncover some of it," she forced herself back to reality, "I will help you uncover some of it. But you will walk the galaxy and find more than that. Your freedom does not end with being an equal among the Confederacy, Gerwald, nor does it with end with you being comfortable both as man and wolf. Your freedom merely starts with it."
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
