Open [The Sakel] Don't Forgive Me, Father

[Orin Fenix]

18th of Summer, 517

Orin sat up, rubbing groggily at his eyes, trying to remove the last vestiges of sleep. For whatever reason, he’d been restless all night, tossing and turning, with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. There was no reason for it, as far as he knew. Nothing really sprang to mind as a potential cause. Sure, his life hadn’t really been going anywhere, these past few seasons, but on the flip side, there was nothing upcoming that should be causing him distress. It was perplexing, and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Orin got dressed for the day, and took care of his needs. As he always did, he made sure to place a dagger at his hip. The anxiety didn’t dissipate, as it would if it was the result of some nightmare. Instead, it seemed to grow more strident over time. No matter what Orin told himself, nothing seemed to make the feeling dissipate. It was probably just the product of one of the darker recesses of his damaged mind, but that didn’t make it any less poignant.

He would be useless in this state for basically anything. So clearly he had to clear his mind and settle his nerves somehow. When he was feeling trouble these days, he usually went to the Azurite Watchtower. Ever if the keepers of Priskil’s domain here in Riverfall were unavailable to help ease his worries, simply standing in the presence of the Watchtower’s light tended to have a calming effect on Orin. Besides, he tried to never miss a sunrise. It was a special time for him, one he'd celebrated as a child and that held a special place in his heart. Praying as the sun rose was one of the few happy memories Orin had of his father, and every time he repeated his typical prayer to the dawn, he felt at peace, at least for a moment. Hopefully that would alleviate whatever dark cloud was hanging over his head.

Speaking of dark clouds, as Orin exited his apartment, he realized it was drizzling slightly. Still a little rain never hurt anybody, and Orin hoped that he'd still be able to see both the sunrise and the light from the Watchtower. Following the now familiar path, Orin tried to take deep breaths and still his beating heart, but failed miserably. Soon enough, though, he arrived at his destination. No one was there to greet him, which wasn't unusual. The priestesses of Priskil had more important matters to attend to than one lost and troubled soul. Besides, it was raining.

Orin sat, not minding that the ground was damp, and waited. After a short while, there was a noticeable brightening in the sky. Standing up, Orin bowed in the direction of the sunrise. The beginning of his daily prayer came easily to his lips. ”Thank you, Leth, for guiding us through another night and thank you Syna, for bringing us another day.” As he tried to continue in prayer and ask for Priskil’s blessing, however, words failed him. Orin speechless was a rare occurrence, but for whatever reason it felt as if his throat had closed up. Finally, he managed to struggle out a weak blessing. ”Priskil, preserve me, and may your watch be ended soon.”

Troubled by his lack of eloquence, Orin started making his way back into the center of the city. Usually he had no trouble talking to his goddess of choice, but today seemed to be the exception. Even worse, the prayer session had not brought the hoped for serenity Orin was seeking. If anything, his gloom had deepened.

People were beginning to get up and about, preparing for their day. Orin was so distracted by his thoughts that he barely paid them any mind. That is, until, a figured resolved itself from the rain and stopped directly in front of the chef. ”Hello...son.”

Orin came to a complete halt, his feeling of horror suddenly crystallizing. It couldn't possibly be real. And yet, that voice, and that face truly seemed to be here, now, where they couldn't possibly be. Orin started moaning, babbling incoherently. ”No...no...you can't be real, you're not real, it's all in my head. This can't be happening it's a vision, or something or...I don't, I don't…”

The figure chuckled, with Orin’s father’s voice and at that sound Orin’s fear transitioned into anger. Before the chef could channel it, though, his father spoke again. ”Oh I'm real, all right. And that's no way to greet your father, boy. Then again, you never did have any manners.”

At that Orin’s blood boiled over. He was done with letting his father belittle him. All through his childhood all Orin had wanted his father’s approval, but apparently that was too much to ask for. And now, Alexander Fenix stood before his son, and Orin couldn't hold himself in check any longer. ”You're dead. I buried you, YOU BASTARD.” Thise last words were screamed, loud enough that passersby shied away from the crazy man in the middle of the road. Orin launched himself at the point where his father stood, drawing his dagger as he charged and slashing wildly at Alexander.

[Claire Lexi'lya]

18th of Summer, 517 A.V.

The Silk Gulls were just as thrilled as Claire was over the rain. They leapt from budding puddle to puddle and fluffed their feathers outwards so that they could gather the water beneath them. They were kind of cute actually, looking like tiny pin cushions soaked with water. They also tended to make good eating when she could catch a large enough gull. It wasn’t often sadly as the birds were all feather and no meat, but they did help hone her skills as a hunter more often than not.

Like the gull that was resting along the rock wall just opposite of her.

It perched on the edge a good fifteen feet above her almost as if it was testing her—daring her to make a move while it preened its beautiful blue feathers. The raptor had been watching the smaller bird for quite some time as the rain drizzled across the rocks. A trial of patience for her, something she hadn’t been sure was in her anymore after the stress of Spring. This had been a test for herself and it was one that she had passed decently enough. It wasn’t her impatience that caused her to move, but the fact that Syna had risen and the rest of the city would soon follow. People would visit the park and hunting would become nearly impossible with the gulls on alert.

The raptor spread her wings wide, pushing off her rock with powerful feet and let gravity pull her weight. It took only ticks, but she beat her wings and the effect was instant. She rose nearly vertically towards the gull her sharp eyesight had zeroed in on over a bell ago. Her ascent was nearly silent, save for the whisper of air between her feathers. Pulling her feet forward as she approached the ledge, the Kelvic let out a sharp chirp. The gull startled at the sound, wings fluttering in a haphazard attempt to escape the oncoming bird of prey from below.

It was enough of warning that let the bird escape her talons just as she invaded the ledge. Claire righted herself, using her wings and tail for balance as she watched the gull fly off in a scream of warning to the other birds. It wasn’t a disappointment, not today. While it would have been easy to remain silent and catch the critter, cleaning blood off her talons wasn’t something she was in the mood for. Today the bird was lucky that it was just a test of patience and not to test of skills.

She lingered for a few more chimes before taking off again. The birds scattered this time at the slightest sound but the raptor avoided them in favor of returning to the bench where her clothing rested. She shifted in a flash of light and began to pull on the peach colored dress she had chosen. It buttoned all the way up the front which made it much easier to get around her wet skin despite being damp itself from the rain. Her cloak followed with a quick tie around her neck. Sparing a last glance around the park, Claire grinned to herself before she followed the stone steps down back towards the streets below.

The Kelvic followed pathways that would take her to the medical center. After a season of living in Riverfall, she finally had most of the streets memorized. She no longer woke expecting the streets to shift like they had in Alvadas. Claire could finally appreciate the average day living in this city after a season of turmoil. She should have known it wasn’t likely to last long. An Akalak passing by nearly knocked her over as a shout filled the air. The Kelvic barely dodged the man in time to see another—a human male by the looks of it—draw a dagger from his side and leap at thin air while shouting.

The first thought that came to mind was the man was dangerous. Perhaps he had seen someone out of the corner of his eye and made to attack, but he didn’t seem focused on anyone in particular on the street. His eyes were locked on someone—or something—that she couldn’t see. A myriad of reasons floated through her head, but first and foremost was the man in need of help. What type of help was the question, but it wasn’t something she walked away from that was for sure. If he kept this up it wouldn’t take long for one of the Akalak to interfere and who knew what kind of damage they might cause trying to wrestle the knife from this man’s hands.

“Sir?” She left her voice gentle but firm. Something to catch his attention without cause to focus her as a target from whatever he was seeing. At least she was hoping that was how she came across. She had never dealt with someone who was seeing things… her specialty was wounds she could stitch or heal with her gnosis. This was something new entirely to her. “Sir are you okay?” A stupid question she knew, but there had to be a start somewhere.

Common | Isur

[Freke]

Template created by Gossamer

His early morning walk took Freke into Riverfall today, he loved the quiet of the early hours. There was few sounds out so far, he could hear seagulls squawking in the distance, but they never shut up, he heard a few people talking in the distance. Knowing he wouldn't be able to catch them Freke decided to head towards the watchtower and chase some of the seagulls, it would be fun to chase them for awhile, he may even get lucky and find a slow one.

As he approached the watchtower Freke took a few chimes to take in the impressive view. This early there wasn't a lot of light to properly see everything, and the clouds obscured the moonlight but torches gave him enough light to make out some of the details, just not enough. Taking his shirt off he folded it and started to look for a bench to place his clothing upon. Seeing a set of clothes on another bench he quickly realized there was another kelvic here. Was this kelvic free or a slave? Freke's mind began to race, could a kelvic slaver be in the city? Putting his shirt back on, slowly, Freke watched the people near by and the animals. Quickly seeing the raptor he knew who the kelvic was, and decided to keep his distance for the time being.

Watching the people around him Freke slowly started to walk away. Before getting to far he heard a man start yelling "You Bastard", quickly turning to him Freke realized he was talking to the air. Wondering if something was wrong in his head Freke walked closer, ready to help subdue the man if need be. Before he could get to the man a woman had already started talking to him so Freke quietly shifted to walk up behind the man, ready to grab him if he became violent.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin’s father dodged defty out of the way, showing a grace that Orin had never seen before and causing the chef to go running past, stumbling to a stop. Orin was shocked at how dextrous his father was now. Of course, more often than not, Alexander Fenix would either be deep in his cups or hungover, with only a few sober days, and it had been that way for Orin’s entire life. Maybe his father had always been capable of this, and Orin had just never seen it since it had always been masked for drink. Orin whirled around, and started stalking in a circle around his father. Alexander, for his part, kept apace with Orin, running the chef’s plan to try and take his father by surprise or wear him down. Alexander even looked hurt at Orin’s actions. ”Is that any way to treat your old man.”

Grinding his teeth together Orin spat out, ”You’re. Not. My. Old. MAN! You never were.” Fury was coiling in his stomach, and it was all he could do not to lash out again. Still, seeing his father again broke Orin’s childhood rushing back. Water streamed down his cheeks, to the point where Orin couldn’t tell where the tears ended and the rain began. ”And besides even if you were, this is exactly how I would treat you.” Orin’s instincts were all over the place. Some were telling him to flee. Others were telling him to fight. Still more were attached to a wriggling worm of doubt in his mind. Maybe this was his father, maybe this wasn’t. But it wore Alexander’s face and it was trying to reach out to Orin. Maybe this was a chance to get the affection he’d always been starved of as a child.

Peripherally, Orin was aware that a crowd was gathering, despite the weather. Even though he knew he was making a scene, his emotions were running too hot, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Mostly, Orin was tuning out the onlookers, since he was far too focused on his father. One woman, braver than the rest, stepped up to him and inquired if he was feeling fine. Glancing at her, Orin noted that she was pretty, in an angular way, with sharp features, with dark brown hair and eyes, and a tall and thin, but muscled frame. In the corner of his eye, Orin also noted that a rather tall and strong looking human man, with long black hair, orange eyes, and lightly tanned skin, had come uncomfortably close to the chef. Pivoting slightly, always keeping Alexander in at least one eye, Orin addressed the two people trailing behind him. ”No I’m not...how could I be?” Pointing at his father, Orin heard his voice break as his heart did. ”How could I be fine when he’s,” and then, shifting his attention fully back toward Alexander, continued, ”When you’re right there? How? How can this be? How can you be here, now.” It was simply an impossibility.

Alexander took a step forward, his hand out in a placating gesture. ”Son, if you’d just let me talk I can explain all…”

Orin cut his father off with a bitter laugh. ”Talk? No. I don’t think so.” Fixing his father with his coldest look, Orin tried to come up with some way to end this before he got even more hurt. ”There’s nothing you could say to me that I’d want to hear.” Orin couldn’t believe that after all the work he’d done, trying to patch up the wounds that his father had left on the chef’s heart and mind and soul, that this interaction could reopen them so easily. Perhaps Orin had been fooling himself into thinking that he was in recovery, the same way he’d fooled himself into thinking that if he threw on a bright and chipper exterior, the darkness inside wouldn’t take over. Of course, he’d been wrong on both counts. ”Just…go. Please go. I can’t do this right now.”

Alexander tried to grab Orin by the shoulder, desperately saying, ”Son, I just want to talk...”

Orin threw off his father’s arm, and started backing away from Alexander. ”Don’t touch me,” the chef snarled. ”Don’t you dare touch me ever again. I’m done letting you hurt me. I’m done with you. Now leave, before I make you leave.” With that threat, Orin held up his still unsheathed dagger, a wild gleam in his eyes.

[Claire Lexi'lya]

Claire couldn’t help the frown that pulled at her lips. The man circled and spoke to air as if someone stood before him, but judging by the growing crowd and the whispers among them she wasn’t the only person who couldn’t see what the man was interacting with. The Kelvic considered it a positive in the least that he reacted to her question, though his agitation only seemed to get worse. Most people were keen on keeping a distance from the raving man, which brought a little ease to her frame. With the weapon flying on at his whim there was no telling who could get hurt.

The raptor’s eyes slid to the male who was attempting to stand behind the knife wielder. While his general looks spoke human as well to her, his eyes were another matter. Claire’s eyes could easily pick out the odd orange tint and her brow furrowed slightly. It was an unusual trait—one she wasn’t sure humans exhibited. Not that it mattered at the moment, her curiosity would have to wait until things settled. He seemed willing to help if need be so the girl let her eyes wander back to Orin.

There were several reasons why the poor man could be hallucinating. The first one that came to mind was that the man had taken a fall, but he didn’t appear to have any sort of injuries indicating such. Of course, that didn’t entirely rule out the possibility, but there wasn’t anything Claire could do until she got the man to calm down. A diversity of poisons and even the likelihood of magic could all be at work. None of them could be assessed unless he was willing. Pursing her lips slightly, the raptor tried to go over in her head anything she knew about dealing with those in a delirious state of mind.

Unfortunately, the most experience she had was dealing with the drunks that tended to hurt themselves in their inebriated ramblings.

This didn’t strike her as one of those times. So she’d have to follow instinct the best she could. From what she could gather from his comments he was dealing with an apparition of his father. Daddy issues—something she had little experience in. Her father had died before her birth… if she did have problems it was something completely unrelated. Either way, the Kelvic rounded on Orin, giving him plenty of space as he lifted the blade in the air for a second time, and came to a stop once she was fully in his view. The nasty curve of metal glinted with rain and it took a great deal of effort to keep her eyes on the man and not the weapon.

“This is going to sound strange to you… but no one else can see him.” Claire dropped her hands from the air to cross over her chest. Without meaning to she cocked her head to the side as her eyes ran up and down the man’s form before settling back on his face. “I do believe you see something though.” The raptor honestly did, regardless of the how. Something was haunting this man. Given his reaction to the appearance of his father, however, it seemed that maybe he had something to settle with him.

“I can’t give you a how, but maybe you are seeing him for a reason.” The Kelvic could list a number of things she’d want to say to her father if she was given the chance—not all of them nice. “Instead of fearing what he might do to you, perhaps you should do the talking?” Claire raised an eyebrow at the man. “Either way if you keep waving your blade around you're likely to hurt someone… and I’d give a guess your hallucination won’t be the one on the receiving end.” She held out one hand, gesturing to the knife with her fingers, though she kept her distance. It would be his choice to approach her. “It’s your chance to say what’s on your mind after all. Not everyone gets one of those. I’ll help… if I can.”

Common | Isur

[Freke]

Seeing the growing crowd Freke was glad they at least had the sense to stay back, and while it also made it more likely someone would get hurt if he tried to run, he'd hoped they'd either leave soon, or that someone would force them to. He heard of people driven made by illusions in Alvadas, if this was that it could be dangerous, the caster could easily make anyone take the position of whoever is talking to this man.

Freke realized he was picking up a smell from this woman that didn't smell fully human, but what was she? Not having time to fully consider what she could be Freke kept his attention on the man before him as he shifted his weight. He didn't have much experience with with people freaking out like this, he wondered if he should knock him to the ground and hold him until guards arrived, considering his size it shouldn't be that hard. This woman did seem to know what she was doing so waited before doing anything, he he could be talked down it would be best for everyone.

Hearing the woman say she believed the man aswell suprised Freke, he hadn't considered telling him that, than again he wasn't really sure what to say or do. Making sure the man couldn't see him Freke held up a arm horizontally between himself and the man, hoping she'd understand he was ready to knock him over if need be, than put it down before he could see it.
Nervous he might make things worse he added quietly "I believe you as well sir." taking a few steps closer Freke stayed above him, stopping when he was within arms reach. "I have heard of others who saw people no one else could." He added, leaving out he didn't hear of it ending well for them.

Knowing they needed to get the knife away from the man, it made him nervous when she held out her hand, rather than asking him to place it on the ground. Trying to stay behind him Freke made sure could keep a eye on his knife hand, if the man made a move to try and cut her he needed to move fast in hopes of stopping him. "Please put the knife down, I'll try to help you with this person, maybe we can figure out what he wants and how to get rid of him."

[Orin Fenix]

The two individuals who had actually stepped forward from the crowd finally broke through Orin’s attention. Glaring at his father, Orin demanded ”Don’t you say a word. Not. One. Word.” Hopefully Alexander would comply, while Orin dealt with the new crisis in front of him. Turning to the two who’d been steadily creeping closer, Orin regarded them warily. What do they mean, no one else can see him. Orin looked at his father more closely, but nothing about Alexander suggested he was fake to Orin’s senses. Still, the looks of the crowd made Orin doubt himself, and it would explain some of their reactions.

The two in front of him said that they believed Orin, but...”I’m not crazy. I’m...not. This, this whole situation is insane, but I’m NOT crazy.” Realizing that the shouting and the rambling probably wasn’t helping his case here, Orin shut up and took a deep breath. It didn’t calm his frazzled nerves, but it did buy him a tick to think. Looking at the woman’s outstretched hand and the man’s aggressive posture, and realizing that they were worried about everyone’s safety, Orin sighed. ”Look you two. I’m putting the knife away. Slowly.” Orin suited action to his word, and making sure to keep his hands in plain view the entire time, put the blade away. The crowd seemed to collectively relax, which was perfectly fine with Orin. ”Is that acceptable, for now, at least?” Realizing that, if indeed Alexander wasn’t really all there -- which Orin still refused to believe, although it’d be a well coordinated ruse by all these seeming strangers if they wanted to mess with Orin -- someone probably called the guards, and Orin did not want to deal with them. Besides, even with his blades sheathed, Orin still had his fists. It would be infinitely more satisfying to pummel Alexander into submission, if push came to shove.

Now that Orin was, on the surface at least, calmer, and two people had supposedly taken control of the situation, the crowd started to disperse, slightly, although a few onlookers remained, probably with morbid curiosity as to how the rest of this spectacle would play out. Orin decided that he’d fake a calm he didn’t really feel, as long as it would speed this ordeal up. The rain had picked up slightly, which was helping discourage bystander, and Orin absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair to keep it from getting into his eyes. ”The two of you actually believe me? You weren’t just saying all that so I would put the knife away?” Orin knew they’d said that, but the woman also had said he was hallucinating, which was not something sane people did. I’ve gone mad, came the giddy thought, and Orin quashed the cackle that wanted to escape from his throat. He didn’t really think it would help his case for his sanity.

The two of them both offered their help, and at that Orin couldn’t help but laugh, although he kept it short and hopefully mostly normal. ”Help? I don’t think anyone can help me now. I’m beyond help.” Realizing how bitter and ungrateful that sounded, Orin added, ”But I appreciate the offer. I do. I just…I have no idea what’s going on.” Looking at the woman again, Orin considered her suggestion. ”Do you really think that confronting him might…send him away?” Orin chose his words carefully as even if logically he had to admit the possibility this was all in his head, emotionally he couldn’t accept that, and still thought that enough animosity would cause Alexander to run. ”I guess it can’t hurt.”

Remarkably, Alexander had stayed silent this entire time, perhaps hoping to prove to Orin that this could be a reasonable discussion. Staring at his father, the man who’d made Orin’s life a living hell for thirteen years, something gave in Orin. A dam broke in his mind, and suddenly all the torments, physical and mental, all the resentment, all the darkness that was placed there because of his terrible childhood came pouring out, leaving Orin with a sudden clarity. ”I think it’s my turn to talk.” Planting himself firmly, Orin stood up to his full height. Normally, the chef wasn’t a very imposing figure, but there must have been something in his eyes because he could see the few people who remained shying away from him. Still, nothing would stop him from getting this off his chest short of divine intervention.

”You ruined my childhood. You abused me. Maybe you didn’t hit me, not often at least, maybe you thought you were doing it to toughen me up, make me a man, I don’t know. I don’t care.” Pouring venom into each and every word probably wasn’t healthy, but it certainly felt good. ”All I know is that I wanted you to love me. I wanted it so badly that I would’ve done anything, petch, I did anything that I thought would, would make you, just, just, look at me, the way other parents looked at their children.” He was losing it, a bit, but he struggled to keep going. ”What kind of monster doesn’t love their child? Was I that hideous?” Alexander tried to reply to that but Orin practically screamed ”Don’t answer that!” Lowering his voice to a more normal, but still raised volume, Orin continued his tirade. ”Do you know how that feels? How, how terrible it made my life. I just...I wanted something you could have given me.” Here was the hardest part, the part that Orin tried desperately to forget some nights, when his depression had it deep in its grips. ”And why? Was it something I did? No. No. No that would be too easy.” Feeling drained at this point, these last words were slightly monotone, but underneath they carried a world of pain. ”No it was because I took my mother, your wife, the love of your life, away from you. Like it was my fault she died in childbirth.” And now, spitefully, trying to hurt his father the way his father had hurt him, Orin spoke one of the deepest secrets. ”It feels like I lost both of my parents that day.”

Alexander flinched at that. ”Orin, that’s not fair. You have no idea…”

”I have no idea how a father couldn’t love his child unconditionally.”

Looking at his father now, looking sad and pathetic in the rain, Orin couldn’t understand how he’d let this man control his life for so long. ”You know what? I’m done. We never had a relationship, and we never will. You just have to come to terms with that.” Breathlessly Orin waited, but Alexander showed no signs of going anywhere just yet.

[Claire Lexi'lya]

The Kelvic pursed her lips slightly as the man moved to put the knife away. It wasn’t an ideal situation given the weapon would be in reach if he decided to use it again later, but it would have to do. So the best she could do was a nod to his question and blow out a breath through her nose that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. The hand that had hovering mid-air for the knife returned to its previous position across her chest. With the weapon at least out of sight, it made things easier to focus on the next problem. Easing the man’s worries about his hallucination.

“Yes, I honestly believe you can see him.” The raptor kept her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt about her feelings on the issue. The orange eyed man insisted on believing him as well and Claire was thankful for the backup. He kept himself behind Orin as best as he could, making it easy for her to keep her eyes focused on both of them at the same time. It was only when Orin laughed and insisted he was beyond help that she shook her head. “I may not know what’s going on either, but that doesn’t mean you’re beyond help.”

Her voice failed her however as he asked if this confrontation might make the image fade. She had no way of knowing that for sure. In her experience, it wouldn’t send his hallucination away, especially if it was caused by some kind of outside force. Things had to run their course—unless it really was some type of mental break. Facing it could either be the best thing for him or the worst. Making promises was the first thing Elma had taught her not to do. While the Kelvic had never dealt with any serious life threatening cases she knew telling him one thing and having it fall through would only cause his trauma to get worse.

It was only when Orin began to spill his life’s history that Claire felt as though she was viewing something entirely too personal. She was no stranger to rough times, but by the sounds of it the man had grown up entirely on the outside. No mother to fuss over him when he was sick. No father… well, at least not one that was nurturing. It was like standing on the outside of a house, peeking in through a window to someone’s life as it fell apart. It was momentary and a blur—much like the rain made the image in front of her—but there nonetheless. It was rather impressive in her opinion that he was capable of being reasoned with.

The raptor remained still until the man stopped speaking. For several ticks, she watched him closely to see if perhaps his vision had left, but eyes still seemed trained on space in front of him. Speaking out against the hallucination hadn’t removed it, but it had left the man rather breathless—and probably emotionally drained. Or she would have been if the roles were reversed. Either way, the Kelvic took the chance to approach the man, until she could stand next to his shoulder. Words of compassion were never her strong suit, and she wasn’t even sure such things coming from a stranger would mean anything.

“We should probably get out of the rain and get some place quiet. If this thing isn’t fading then we need to figure out what’s causing it.” Claire glanced at the Freke for a moment, biting her bottom lip before sighing heavily as her gaze returned to Orin. She let the fingers of her left hand reach out and tug gently at his sleeve. “It’s probably going to follow… and talk, unfortunately. Just try and remember it’s coming from you. What it says and does is all related to how you think about him.” It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, or what she wanted to say, but it was likely to be the truth. But they needed to get away from the remaining prying eyes and rain before any of them came down with an illness.

Common | Isur

[Freke]

Relieved the man put his knife away Freke felt some tension relieved, the immediate danger over for now. "Thank you Sir. It'll be easier to talk now" Slowly Freke walked around the man, hoping having someone else to focus on in front of him, would help ease Orin. "Yes, I believe you. Not use to dealing with people like this Freke left it at that, unsure what else to say. Standing closer to Claire Freke got a better whiff of her scent, he picked up another scent off her, a animal, but he couldn't place it. Could she be a kelvic as well?" He thought to himself.

"No one said you're crazy. It could be someone playing tricks on you." Freke said, more in hopes it would help calm Orin.

Listening to Orin's story Freke was confused, why would anyone be upset at being left alone? He'd be able to do whatever he wanted, what was wrong with that? Not sure how to respond to Orin's story Freke remained quiet. Seeing Claire get closer made Freke nervous, what if he tried to attack again? Keeping to the side Freke watched them, but didn't see anything immediately threatening. After Claire's suggestion to move somewhere else Freke nodded and turned to Claire. "Would you like some help? Or will you both be fine from here on?" Not knowing them he didn't want go with them if he was unwanted.

[Orin Fenix]

After all that, Orin felt empty, as if every word that had left his mouth had carried a tiny chunk of the emotion he was feeling, and after all the shouting, he’d been left with nothing. No good, no bad, just empty echoing halls in his mind and heart where his anger and fear and sadness had lingered. Or maybe it had washed away in the rain, each droplet carrying within it a feeling or a sensation, carrying it into the ground and to the river below to eventually blossom into new life elsewhere. He felt tired, too, as if he’d ran a good distance or fought a battle, and only now was his body realizing it was over, as if sheer momentum had been the only force keeping him going until now. It was over, whatever it was.

Except, it wasn’t as Alexander still stood there. “Son, you gotta listen to me. I have to…” but Orin tuned him out. Listlessly, he turned to the two who’d tried to support Orin, although their efforts had stemmed not from selflessness but from worry about what Orin would do to the others around him. Still, Orin would’ve appreciated their efforts, if he could muster up the energy, which he couldn’t. Alexander, seeing that Orin had stopped paying attention, had ceased speaking, and was instead growing angrier and redder faced with each passing chime. There’s the father I remember. And loved. Priskil preserve me, I loved him once. And Alexander had betrayed the trust of that child, leaving Orin broken and weeping inside. But Alexander had succeeded on one front. Orin had always been able to act happy, because if he didn’t, he’d be beaten. So faking it had become the norm until Orin was no longer sure what was an act and what was just going through the motions of life, like a mechanism that was broken and simply repeating the last action in its sequence.

Even if Orin couldn’t feel gratitude in this moment in time, he should probably express it. That he could fake as well. “Thanks, you two. And I’m sorry about the knife. I promise, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone innocent.” Orin’s voice was as dead as his insides, but he was saying the right things at least. “He’s still there, but I’m ignoring him.” For now, remained unspoken, but Orin would resist as long as he could. While Orin didn’t know if he trusted anything these two said, for a variety of reasons, he seemed to be stuck with his escort, at least for now, so he might as well make the most of it. “I’m Orin Fenix. I swear that I’ve never hallucinated before. Been depressed, yes, but never seen things.”

Maybe the accumulated mental trauma had finally caught up to him. Orin didn’t know. He wasn’t an expert on the subject. The man’s suggestion that it was someone playing tricks on Orin wasn’t likely. “I doubt it. Who would even have known my father? Besides, it’s not like I have a host of enemies out there,” Orin explained weakly. It was true. In general, he tried to keep as low a profile and be as polite as possible, precisely because he was attempting to avoid further confrontation in his life.

The woman’s suggestion that they get out of the rain was sensible, and Orin nodded tiredly. He just wanted to go home, but figured that people would need reassurance that he wouldn’t go off and do something dangerous or reckless. So, Orin started making his way towards an awning jutting out from a nearby shop. At the woman’s statement that his father was all coming from him, Orin felt his first emotion since the outburst, and it was faint at that. It was regret. As they got out of the rain, Orin leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. At least that way, Orin couldn’t see Alexander, although the chef fancied he could still feel his father lurking at the edge of his consciousness. Maybe the woman was right. “You know, I made two promises to myself the night my father died.” Orin didn’t know why he was telling two strangers this, but it felt strangely appropriate. After all, they’d heard enough of his story. It probably made sense, now that they’d heard the bulk of it, that they heard it all.

“He died in a fire, that spread out of control. He was drunk. He was always drunk. He’d beaten me, so badly that I couldn’t walk. And yet, when I saw the smoke wreathing our house, I still tried to run to him, despite my injuries and the danger,” Orin recounted, monotone, with no inflection at all infecting his voice. He felt oddly detached, as if someone else was speaking and he was just a passive observer. “He was unconscious and it spread, and spread, until it ate him and our house both.” Orin could see the flames in his mind’s eye, still hear the screaming of his father’s name, and feel the hands of his neighbors as they held him back. “I made two promises that day.” Orin opened his eyes, and fixed the two before him with an empty gaze.

“The first was that I’d never let him hurt me again. The second was that no child under my protection would ever suffer as I have.” Those promises had formed the core of who Orin was for so long that it was somehow hard putting them into words, even harder than the confrontation with Alexander, who was now stalking back and forth behind the man and the woman who’d pushed Orin back from the edge of a cliff. “If I’ve failed so terribly at the first one, how will I ever succeed at the second?” Orin’s deepest fear was that one day he’d become his father. So Orin worked excessively hard to be everything that Alexander had been not.

But it was exhausting. Orin didn’t know how much farther or harder he could push himself. Orin whispered, just loud enough to be heard, “I think I’d like to go home now.”