Recording Horizons (Casimir)

[Atticus Leslie]

31st of Spring, 516

Atticus was simply ecstatic with his new position as an apprentice at the Iraltu Observatory. He had been working for a while now but every moment he spent within the confines of the observatory he felt important, he felt as if he was just that much closer to making a breakthrough. Of course, breakthroughs were all dependent on work and work alone, but it still felt nice nonetheless. It was a minor victory in and of itself to be in a position of even limited importance in a place that meant the world and more to him.

Atticus sat in a quiet corner of the observatory at a mostly barren wooden desk, his journal before him open to his own Spring season starmap. Adjacent to him were multiple books with regarding the same topic, which Atticus picked out carefully from the surrounding bookcases bells before sundown. Two of them depicted similar maps earlier and later in the Spring season, the others detailed very carefully the movement of the skies during different seasons. Atticus was spending his evening carefully copying down the charts on spare paper as to more easily track throughout the season while making notes in the margins of when exactly the sky should shift any kind of significant amount.

This particular project was essentially busywork for the young astronomer, and nothing new, but for the first time his work served a purpose for the scientific community of Lhavit, which doubtlessly made everything Atticus was doing that much more important. It wasn't as if this information hadn't previously existed or was in any way inaccessible, but spending a single evening recreating the information to have on hand for the rest of his career was much more convenient than searching for a hundred different maps every time thirty days passed.

Atticus rested his ink stick lightly on his lip as he studied. He had spent most of his day at this desk doing various tasks regarding the placement of stars. He had created maps for every change in every season, tracking both constellations and individual stars separately. And loved every second.

The quiet hum of other apprentices and astronomers selecting books, flipping pages, and writing served as ambiance to Atticus' work and helped him focus, drawing himself periodically only to visit the latrine or check the cloud coverage outside. Which, of course, was awful. Not even the brightest stars shone through. Atticus could barely make out Leth's glow. So, as for the moment, he was stuck inside, which was no issue at all.

Atticus was nearly completed with his work when in the background another apprentice had dropped a fairly sized book from the shelves, causing a loud thud that startled the lad. He turned sharply in his chair, accidentally sweeping his arm across the desk, spilling all of his organized work over the floor.

"Shyke..." Atticus cursed under his breath as he kneeled on the floor to reorganize his work, thanking the stars above he wasn't using ink that day and everything was still intact.

[Casimir]

The work in the Observatory was boring. He sat there night after night watching the stars change - except with the cloud cover, it was hidden from sight - and copying charts, naming constellations and tracking their movements. Casimir didn't know exactly why he had taken this job, but something about the sky appealed to him. Perhaps it was the calling from Leth or from the place he had once existed. Perhaps it was simply the beauty of it all.

But when there was no beauty to be seen, it was tiresome. Casimir flipped through another star chart, ink stick held idly in his hand. He moved over to the paper he was meant to be doing heavens knew what on, closing his eyes and picturing the coral. His hand traced out the delicate shapes, the ripples in the water, the texture of it all.

Well, he tried anyway. His image came out lopsided, distorted and mangled. Casimir closed his eyes again, picturing it clearly in his head. Why couldn't he draw it? A cough came from behind him, one of the older observatory workers catching him doodling on the job. Casimir shrugged awkwardly, turning back to the star map. There was coral on top of it. The Ethaefal swiped at it, knowing that something was wrong. There was no tugging at his djed to make it grow. That much he knew. Still, it began to spread, as if he was controlling it.

Turning away, Casimir went to the bookshelf, trying to keep his mind off coral. A voice came through in his head, Mim. "Why aren't you in the sea?" she asked playfully, Casimir feeling her eyes light up with curiosity, "Thought you liked it there?"

The sudden voice shocked him, and he dropped the book he held, entitled: "Stars of Spring". Behind him, another apprentice spun round, knocking pages on the floor. "So?" Casimir ignored her, reaching down to help the boy he shocked. His horns knocked against the table as he moved to collect one sheet, hand moving to rub them as he took it in the other. A star map, marked and detailed. The patterns on it were beautiful.

Casimir came back out from under the table, placing the single sheet on it. "Sorry about that," he grinned, settling in a chair opposite the boy's. He knew him, vaguely. The boy was an apprentice too, but always working hard and scribbling things down. He knew little else, however. "I'm Casimir, I work here too. Your name is?"

His smile was so wide, unshaven cheeks changing shape to accommodate the pleasant addition. Cobalt eyes shone curiously, looking at his work. His hand moved up to scratch at the pure white horns again, ruffling silver blue hair. If he was another person, he would have called himself beautiful. But Casimir wasn't vain, so it was Mim that muttered it in his head. "You're so obsessed with pretty things - ever looking in a mirror?" Casimir sighed, mumbling quickly to her.

"Says the magpie." Realising that he was speaking to himself, he tried covering it up with a cough, pointing to the star map. "What's this one for?"

[Atticus Leslie]

Atticus slid the papers together in what he hoped was the correct order on the floor, careful not to bend any corners or crumple his work. It probably wasn't a big deal if he did, though, they were fairly simple to replicate, and Atticus certainly wouldn't mind spending more time in the observatory. It was just something of a hassle to scramble about.

Once a good number of papers were in something of a neat pile, Atticus began gathering the books by stacking them atop one another, bindings facing the same direction and all orientated correctly. Atticus got up and squatted on the soles of his feet as he and his limited strength lifted the pile of novels off of the ground and back onto the desk, falling with a hard thud.

Atticus leaned on his desk, running his fingers through his hair and sighing deeply. He didn't mind at all the work he was doing, as long as it was work he could do. Heavy lifting was not work Atticus could do. But this was a distraction that would last only a moment. Then he could return to work, thank Zintila.

Atticus kneeled back down to continue collecting papers, only noticing the other presence when he had begun shuffling his work. He was easily recognizable, not many Ethaefal work at the observatory after all, but he had never spoken to Atticus and Atticus had always been too busy to make small talk and introduce himself. He was fairly stunning, though, and Atticus was a little taken aback by his presence. Not only was the man easily recognizable but had appeared infrequently at the observatory as opposed to Atticus' constant presence at his place of employment.

The man placed a few papers that were strewn a little too far for Atticus to reach and placed them on his desk before settling down on a chair opposite Leslie's own. "Sorry about that," he grinned.

Atticus nodded in response, collecting the rest of his work and placing it on his desk with the rest of his papers, falling back in his chair and stretching a bit, his bones cracking. He swiveled to face his peer.

"My name is Casimir. I work here too. Your name is?" He said.

Atticus chuckled a little bit as he swiveled back to his desk, sorting his papers back to their original position. "Hi Casimir," he said, just loud enough to hear, careful to not to disturb the other astronomers' work with his volume. "My name's Atticus Leslie. I think I've seen you around a little bit. What have you been working on here?"

[Casimir]

He was so organised. Every paper was smooth and the corners not bent, every book lined up with the one underneath. Casimir hadn't expected anything different. He seemed the type: studious, organised and a lover of order. From Casimir could tell from the few times he had seen him around.

The boy sorted the papers too, chuckling. Casimir couldn't quite understand what was funny, but chuckled as well, enjoying this cheerful atmosphere. He introduced himself softly, reminding Casimr that other people had been and still were working. Grinning awkwardly, he took the book he had dropped and opened it, pretending to be working. He flipped it open to a random page, resting his hand on it.

"What have you been working on here?" The question shocked him, Casimir not expecting to talk about work. Well, he supposed that they still were in the observatory. He shrugged, not too certain how to reply. His work consisted of joining up stars. Would that be considered real work?

"Constellations - I don't know a lot of astronomy. I track their movement, which is basically copying out star maps. Nothing much. Not sure why." He shrugged again, smiling. "I'm guessing you actually know what you're doing?" He chuckled, grinning. His eyes twinkled in the light and flipped a page in the book over, not even looking down.

He heard a giggle, and looked around quickly, but there was no one there. Of course. It was all in his head. "Bet he's thinking how much of an idiot you are." Mim. Why wouldn't she go away? Casimir hissed under his breath, louder this time. "Shut up."

Realising that he had spoken aloud, he spoke again, trying to distract him. "I want to be looking up there, watching Leth in his mighty beauty. That's why I joined. But looks like I'm not doing a lot of that." He grinned, moving his hand over to a blank piece of paper. Taking an ink stick, he tried to draw Leth, almost absent-mindedly. Another thing he knew perfectly. He had to. But his sketch was a wonky circle and the "details" were splodges. Sighing, he thought to himself. One day.

Then he returned to Atticus, still smiling. "What did you join to do?"

[Atticus Leslie]

"Constellations - I don't know a lot of astronomy. I track their movement, which is basically copying out star maps. Nothing much. Not sure why." The man responded, which Atticus found a bit peculiar.

Tracking the constellations was watching how Mizahar turned through the seasons, and it'd been done many many times, and he was fairly certain Casimir had been working here for a good amount of time. He wasn't sure why he'd be assigned that work day in and day out unless he was looking at the movement of stars themselves within the constellations, which was a possibility, albeit a somewhat remote one. Books published earlier and earlier reflected the same constellations they saw today, and the star's movement to be minute. Which in all fairness was a bit strange, anyway. After so many years observing the same stars they simply hadn't moved. Atticus wondered why.

Quickly, as to not be rude, he flipped to an empty page in his journal and wrote "Do stars move" before addressing the young man.

"That's a little peculiar, Casimir. Have you found anythi-"

"Shut up." He interrupted.

Atticus shut his jaw immediately and turned back to his work without second thought. He didn't quite know how to react to what had just happened, so he began setting his work back up, placing his books in all the right positions and flipping them to all the right pages to begin researching his new curiosity.

The silence that followed the Ethaefal's outburst was long and somewhat awkward. Atticus was pretty used to the lack of dialogue and the presence of a silence but not a hostile silence, and it was a little weird. He definitely didn't like it.

Thank Zintila that, for whatever reason, Casimir decided to break it.

"I want to be looking up there, watching Leth in his mighty beauty. That's why I joined. But it looks like I'm not doing a lot of that." He said. Atticus was too nervous to remove his head from his books, so he offered nothing but a nod directed at his books rather to at the man.

Another silence. Which was a little better than the last. But not by much.

"What did you join to do?" He asked.

A little more than looking at the moon... Atticus thought on instinct, but shook it off before he cemented the thought. It was rude to think like that.

"I want to find something new." He said, trying to be as vague as possible and as short as possible as to not annoy the young man further.

He returned to his studies. Maybe stars didn't move, but were just suspended? That seemed unlikely though. It could also be possible that they all moved but in such a way that it could not be easily observed... He would have to inquire further. It was a topic that could be easily resolved with some research. Maybe he could accomplish that.

He glanced at Casimir before turning back to his work. Maybe I could accomplish it some other time... he thought.

[Casimir]

Atticus seemed very interested in everything Casimir had to say, even making a note. Of course, it most likely wasn't something Casimir had said but a thought sparked by it all, but still, it made him feel special. He began to ask something but Casimir hadn't even noticed until he had muttered the quick words to Mim. Great. Now he sounded so unfriendly and rude. Atticus seemed to notice some fake disgust and returned to his work, Casimir flailing about for his words.

Even when he had finally spoken, Atticus didn't seem very friendly, only offering a nod. Casimir looked down, waiting for the rude reply to his next question. This meeting had certainly gone well. He knew that was exactly what Mim would say, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Thankfully, however, she chose not to make a sound, making the silence even more awkward.

The reply was short and obviously designed so, Atticus only glancing up slightly to look upon the Ethaefal. A tick more and he would have seen his face change to one of obvious annoyance, not towards Atticus, but towards himself. He had really messed this meeting up. Casimir wanted to learn and become friends but had only offended.

It wasn't too late though. It couldn't be. Casimir lived by the strict rules that nothing was too late, except perhaps death. A misunderstood and badly aimed comment could easily be patched up. "No, I want to hear what you have to say. I apologise for before only..." Should he tell him? He supposed that it would be too much, "I was thinking too much. I was trying to tell myself to focus more. What was it that you wanted to find?"

Casimir took the ink stick again, naturally, moving his hand to a blank page as he began to sketch another piece of coral. His eyes didn't even look down, which could have assisted in the incredibly poor quality of the sketch. He didn't even care though. He only moved his hand across the page as something to do; Casimir was not the type to sit still and had to be doing something as he did something else. "Or perhaps, you don't know? I don't know what I'm doing here. I came because of Leth and because of the spare change and because of the beauty of the sky. Nothing specific. Is it the same with you?"

[Atticus Leslie]

The silence hadn't improved much.

Atticus began to wonder exactly why Casimir had decided to stay if he looked down upon the boy and his work. Atticus had tried to be nothing but accommodating and friendly since his peer had sat down, quietly fixing the fact that even when he helped Atticus some of the papers were in the wrong order and some Atticus had already sorted on the floor already. Didn't much matter he supposed. As long as Casimir was irritated with Atticus there was absolutely no sense in trying with him unless an explanation was offered.

He considered getting up and leaving but decided against it. Not only would that be doubly as rude as what Casimir had muttered but also required a lot of effort. There were indeed a lot of books here that Atticus could barely carry from the floor to the desk in one go, let alone across the room.

So he stayed.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say. I apologize for before. Only..." He said. Atticus looked over at him, an eyebrow raised quizzically at the man. "I was thinking too much. I was trying to tell myself to focus more. What was it that you wanted to find?" Casimir asked.

Atticus flipped to the part of his notes detailing the physics on movement of light, tracing the notes and diagrams with his gaze, debating whether or not he should share his most recent project.

"I've um... I've been researching the physics of light mainly. And how it uh... You know..." He made a zigzag motion with his hand. "Moves, I guess." He said, somewhat quietly. "Do I make you nervous? Or annoy you at all?" He blurted. "I'm sorry if I'm abrupt Casimir, but I can't think of anything else that would elicit that kind of response. Did I do anything? Is anything bothering you? Anything I did?"

He tried his best to keep his volume low, and he, in his opinion, did a pretty good job of keeping himself under control. He had tried to keep his facial expressions innocent as well; he wasn't actually upset with Casimir, more of just concerned with his own actions and if he had done something wrong or offended Casimir personally. He hoped not, but at this point it was the only logical explanation.

[Casimir]

He spoke of physics of light, how it moves. Casimir tilted his head, interested. Light was something that was there except when it wasn't. It didn't move, did it? Yet it came from something, a source, and spread, which suggested it did. Casimir pondered it, holding his hand up to the light of a nearby candle almost distracted. The light moved to meet it, but was blocked. It didn't go around, not really. Shaking his head, he focused back on Atticus, truly curious as to what he had discovered on it. What even was light, anyway?

Yet Atticus had something else in mind. He spoke quietly, but blurted it out, feeling... Casimir didn't know the feeling. He couldn't put a name to it, at least. A green, spiky feeling. He frowned, trying to shake loose the effects of the fountain. Or was it the fountain? He couldn't tell. Nothing seemed right or normal anymore.

"No, no, no no nononono," he blurted out, the word tripping over his tongue and pouring out of his mouth in a string of sound. His voice picked up several heads, who turned to the Ethaefal stumbling for new words. The man blushed, looking down quickly, and repeating the word again. "You didn't do anything. Honestly. It's all me. It's all me."

But he had already tried this approach and it hadn't convinced the boy sitting in front of him. The truth seemed the much better approach and he blurted it out just as Atticus had, except louder, quicker, more repetitive. Unlike the boy, he couldn't control his tongue, letting it slip and slide through sentences as he struggled to make sense of it. "The fountain. Do you know the fountain, the fountain, the fountain the one that appeared? I drank from it and then... theneverythingstartedtobeweirdandIcanhearnoisesandvoices... No." He pressed his hands against his face, realising how crazy he sounded.

What if this boy thought him crazy? What if he decided such a man wasn't safe to be around people? Yes, that was it. The boy was teasing him, showing him exactly what he thought. The boy knew what the fountain had done and wanted to make him suffer, wanted to remove him from the others. That was what all this was for.

"No." The voice wasn't Mim's, but another's, a softer, calmer voice. "He doesn't think that. Look at him. He's a boy, he's young, he's awkward. He thinks he has done wrong, not you. Poor child. Leth's light guide him, poor child. Take a deep breath. Tell him it all." Casimir trembled, taking deep breaths.

"Sorry. Just..." He didn't know what to say again. "I drank from the fountain and strange things have happened. I see things. I hear voices. I was telling Mim to shut up. She's a voice, in my head. She's annoying." He smiled awkwardly, realising how crazy this sounded. Less crazy than his outburst before, however.

"Forget about that. I can control it. Tell me about light. What have you discovered?" Casimir was truly interested and a different conversation seemed like it would do him good. He needed it; the distraction from the predicament he was in would help. If Atticus was willing to help, of course.

[Atticus Leslie]

Atticus glanced at Casimir with utter confusion after his little ourburst.

He has spoken so quickly the young astronomer wasn't sure if he could even keep up with the train of thought he expressed. It was spurratic and random, and felt as if Atticus had inspired something that was either better left unsaid or something that desperately needed to be expressed and simply hadn't been. He wasn't sure and he wasn't sure would know any time soon.

Atticus had trouble catching even snippets of what the fallen zealot had said. Bits caught his attention; voices in the his compatriot's head that hadn't appeared before drinking from a fountain. Peculiar as that may be, it raised far more questions than it did answers, and only made Atticus worry deeper for Casimir's safety, which up until now hadn't at all been in question. He wondered if all Ethaefal were like this; troubled, as someone with a delicate tongue would put it. It seemed like a genuine problem, though. When Atticus looked at Casimir, he saw an honest problem and an honest fear as a result of it, as well as a fair amount of anxiety that he could only assume came more off of talking about the subject rather to experiencing it.

Casimir placed his face in his hands. Atticus swerved around in his chair and put his hands in lap, doing his best to seem attentive and caring towards the man's problems. Atticus tried to hide his confusion behind a facade of understanding but people in general were not an easy subject for him, and it seemed as if this was going to be a particularly difficult instance. He ignored glances from coworkers and superiors around him as he did his best to comfort the boy.

"Sorry, just..." He began again, after a few moments of breathing. "I drank from the fountain and strange things have happened. I see things. I hear voices. I was telling Mim to shut up. She's a voice, in my head. She's annoying."

Holy shyke. Atticus thought to himself. Those were some pretty major red flags. Voices in his head, for one. For another, and this was a big one, naming the voices in his head. That was not something that people who are typically considered safe do.

Atticus did his best to suspend his disbelief and be understanding towards this man, who was a near stranger, pouring his troubles out to the Leslie boy.

"Forget about that." He said.

Not likely.

"I can control it. Tell me about light. What have you discovered?"

Though it was polite for him to ask, Atticus couldn't help but worry for him.

"Are you sure you'd like me to talk about my findings, Casimir? It seems like your time might be better spent getting help from a doctor. Maybe there was something in that water. Maybe Leth knows, have you prayed to Leth?"

Atticus would love nothing more than to talk about his work, be assured, but Casimir was unhealthy. And despite the fact that Atticus didn't know him well, he still cared. If he were in this situation he would be miserable and he knew that. It's best to do everything he could to help. He wasn't sure if talking about light would help.

[Casimir]

Atticus sounded so worried, offering a million other things to do rather than talk about his findings. Okay, maybe not a million - more like two - but it felt like it. Casimir didn't want to talk about it but clearly Atticus wanted to help him. Or not talk to a madman about something normal. Fairly normal anyway.

The first thing he said was a doctor, and Casimir wondered why he hadn't thought of that. After all, doctors knew the answers to everything. They could cure anything. While Casimir had never gone to visit one, he almost worshipped them. They brought life when there was death! They fought against everything that made things ugly and made them beautiful again! As far as he knew anyway. But no. He was at work now and it was too late to bother visiting a doctor. By the time he reached there, he wouldn't have much time left to conduct a proper appointment, not without worrying about time. He assumed. Once again, he didn't know how long anything would take.

Either way, he would go another day, or rather, night. A whole night for it could work.

Then he said praying to Leth. As if Casimir hadn't done that yet. The first thing he had done was pray to Leth. Except that hadn't worked - all he had received was the voices praying with him. Which wasn't the most desirable thing. Leth knew nothing, or at least, didn't see the need to answer him.

"It was the water. I heard someone else had strange things happen. But it's okay. Seriously." He forced a smile, "Please, do talk." He stopped, taking a deep breath. Keep control. That was the key.

"If I'm listening and distracted, they won't come out. Mim's annoying but I can ignore her. The other two - they're both respectful." Mu'walla was the soft voice, a Konti who was more like a mother to him. The other, he didn't even know her name. She had spoken to him once, when he was worshipping Leth. Even then, she hadn't spoken to him, but to Leth, praying devotedly. Casimir hadn't thought to talk to her and never heard from her again.

"Just talk. Please. For me." He smiled, placing his hands firmly on the table before him. He was ready to listen and focus completely, despite everything.