A Night No One Wants to Remember

Open/locked?: OTA
Who: Severn and whoever
What: Arrival
Warnings: Dark setting, dark pull point, death, murder, guilt

Under the tangled shadows of thorn and vine was where Severn appeared. In one blink, nothing, in the next, the hunching shadow of a person, probably, in another, the clearer silhouette of a man folded in on himself. It was under the lengthening shadows of dusk that Severn took distant note of the change in texture of the soil. The difference in the weight of the air. His joints were stiff with the remembered vigil. His chest a hollow sort of ache.

He stared at his hand on the handle of the shovel, and told himself he had to move. Whatever had just changed, it was important. When he levered himself to his feet, he felt eighteen again, raw, the weight of his burden cutting fresh into his shoulders. He felt eighteen again, and he felt a hundred years old, aged by the time he had already carried memory like a cape too heavy to discard.

He turned, and Kaylin was gone. Turned back again, and so too was the ghost of a too small grave. All that remained was the shovel, and himself. It was unclear to him if Kaylin had run again this time, or if the trial had deemed fit to separate them somehow. It was her trial, after all, not his. Even though the scenery had changed, the mound of upturned soil gone, he still found his gaze sinking to the spot. The memory of their blood on his hands fresh and renewed in a way only magic could accomplish.

He took a shaking breath, and then a steady one, forced the years of training and self control ahead of that younger version of himself. “Kaylin.” He dared not shout, but let her name carry on a hiss of air out into the creeping night. He glanced to the sky, eyes scanning over the surroundings, taking in details, even if a part of him was still kneeling in the dirt beside the shallow grave.

This felt different to the Halls, trial or not. He may not be as attuned to magic as Kaylin was, but even he could tell this wasn’t the same. Nor was it anywhere he recognized. It could almost be some any-corner of a fief, but he knew most of those forgotten nooks. And besides, in his gut he knew this was somewhere he had never been. He knew by now to trust those feelings.

He turned his assessment inwards, still aware of his surroundings as any Wolf or Hawk should be, but taking stock of his own status. The echoed injuries of that night, the dirt stains and the blisters, had all but faded. Though he still bore the scuffs from his and Kaylin’s journey so far through the trials. The shovel remained. Though he’d have rathered it didn’t. His dagger sheaths were empty, their contents still probably with Kaylin, wherever she had ended up. He could hope, at least, that she had them to protect herself with. He had very little else on him, aside from the familiar weight of coiled chain and blade.

He dropped a hand to the links, and let out a vivid curse when the texture wasn’t right. Or at least a word that sounded as if it were supposed to be a curse. He pulled, and cursed (tried to) louder as one dulled blade thudded mutely into the earth. There was no way. It wasn’t possible for it to age that quickly, or to weather in this way at all. He brought the rusted chain right up to his face to catch the dying flickers of light and confirm that it was indeed in as bad a shape as it felt. He retrieved the useless blade from the ground and once again surveyed his surroundings. This would have to be dealt with later. Once he’d figured out where the hounds he was, how he’d gotten there, what forces could possibly be at play, and how much danger he might have found himself in. And hopefully, managed to find Kaylin as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Surveying his surroundings he might notice the woman up on the roof. She had been laying back looking up at the clouds until she heard him. Now she was sitting on the ledge, watching. She had heard the way he spoke the name, and his reaction to whatever he had discovered with his chain. Interesting bit of something, that was. She wasn't sure what it was other than interesting, but she was sure she'd find out in time. She suspected weapon, but wasn't sure.

But then again, this was River. Unless it was held by the Doctor she tended to suspect most things someone held could be a weapon. Generally because in her hands, most things could be.

She was pretty sure he clocked her. So she gave one of her impish smiles. The mask was ever so useful here. And besides, she learned more from frustrating some people than flattering them. The distance between them was probably just enough to soften some of the twinkle in her eye that upset so many people here. But that was fine too.

As always she'd take her cues from her dance partner. That most people wouldn't believe she did that said more to her about their inability to read her than anything else. A shame, it would be an interesting challenge to try and play games with someone who could.

However, from what she'd seen of this young man so far he seemed more a Foulques than a Zuko. So she was pretty sure she knew which dance this would be, and who she should be taking him to.

He watched her watch him, not overtly of course, but in the way that people tended not to notice. a tracking of movement from his periphery, an open ear to any sound she might make. He didn't know yet where he was or who this woman could be. Questions he needed answered, of course, but not if the questioning would be a greater danger.

He used the excuse of securing the chain and blades to further calm his rattled thoughts. His hands were steady, even if they didn't feel it. Did his best to obscure the destroyed weapon with the folds of his clothes as he could. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He would have rather never relived that day.

He leaned his weight into the shovel and finally directed his gaze up to the woman on the roof. He didn't call over to her, but let her see him notice her, and waited to see how she would respond.

Interesting... very interesting.

"Are you the new gardener, then? I know some people who would be happy to have the help," she called down; projecting her voice to carry, without shouting.

He smiled the ghost of a smile, all the right shapes, not quite any of the right feeling. "Sorry to say you'll be waiting a little longer then." He called back in the same way she had.

"That's alright, like my mother I am quite well accustomed to waiting for a man," she said with a smirk.

The same man, in fact.

Severn made an obvious glance around the barren, mushy field. Then back up to her. So she wanted to play, then. "Evidently. Though, you may need more than just a gardener at this point. You and your mother waiting on the same one?"

"Generally," she said with a grin. "So if you're not the gardener, you are....?"

He already hated this Force forsaken place. Except for the change in his nightmares. Still, as he was unsure if she dared believe what he had been told about the nature of their relationship to time itself, he needed to get out of here, to return from whence he came. To find out what was real and what was the darkest dream.

But even without being able to sense the other man's pain, he could almost taste it anyway, watching him. He tucked his hands behind his back, knowing he should give the other space, but also wishing to offer guidance if it was needed or wanted. It was the Jedi way, after all, to help others. Besides, pain left one open to the Dark Side. Or so he was told. What felt like every half hour.

Still, it would do them both good for him to help.

Severn didn't at first acknowledge the man, though he kept him well within his awareness. He retrieved the broken blade from the dirt and winced inwardly once again. What was going on?

He let out a long breath and turned a look over towards the man. His face gave nothing away, except the blatant fact that he was sizing the man up. He tucked the bulk of the rusted chain and blade behind the planes of his body and rose an eyebrow at the man. "Can I help you with something?"

Despite not yet knowing quite what the situation was, he was a Hawk at the moment, and that went along with certain obligations. Certainly different than being a Wolf ever had been.

"Actually, I was waiting to offer you the same, as it turns out. If you are as new to this place as I am, I can still give you the tour I was given, if you wish it. I am also well trained in certain... skills. If there is some help you need, then I'm willing to give that help. It is, after all, the Jedi way to be of service to those who are adrift."

He rose an eyebrow, cataloguing new information and paring down the bullet points of most pressing questions.

The man offered a tour like it wasn't strange for Severn to have arrived here without knowing much about the place, which was interesting. So he took a gamble on a nod. "A tour would be appreciated, thank you."

He'd never heard of the Jedi before, nor was he entirely sure of the way in which the man had offered his unspecified 'skills'. Severn eyed him a half a moment longer, before choosing not to comment just yet.

He nodded. "Alright, not that there is much to see." He moved his hands to fold into his sleeves in front of him. "We can start inside, if that is alright with you." There wasn't much outside that couldn't be seen from here except the beach and the bath to it. And there was too much sand there.

Severn watched the movement with a guarded eye. Hidden hands could always be a problem, but overt watching wasn't often the solution to that problem. He nodded with an easy smile. "At your discretion. Lead the way."

He nodded. "This way then. We'll start with the room that was converted to a kitchen." Always good to know where the food is.

"I apologize, I do not know anyone by the name of Kaylin. Please extend me your forgiveness."

He'd seen the girl approach, and by the time she was close enough to more clearly see his face and ask her question, Severn had manage to pull his expression back together. He put hands on his hips and studied her. Mortal, seemingly. She had no obvious weapons on her person, which didn't mean she was harmless, but was slightly promising. "Mm. It's no matter. Corporal Severn Handred, Hawk. Thank you for the information."

"Hawk? I apologize. On the surface the word hawk seems a simple one, however perhaps I lack some context? I see no wings, nor talons below your knees. And rare indeed the hawk which can speak in such a way that humans can understand. Perhaps you could offer some clarification and educate me as to what I am missing, Handred-sensei?"

He covered his second of surprise with a sly smile. Where was he that this girl didn't at least recognize the emblem of the Hawks? Or more aptly, how had he gotten to such a place?

A question for later, perhaps. "My apologies. Not that kind of hawk. We serve under the Hawklord and the Dragon Emperor as law enforcement officers."

"A dragon Emperor? Good sir, I am inclined to think that you are attempting to have some amusement at my expense to spin so tall a tale. Either that your you spread the very root of sedition, calling the Emperor such."

A kid of indeterminate gender had been heading out to take a walk when they spotted Severn. Another human. No.... They started backing off slowly until he started looking around. Chara froze for one terrified moment, seeing all those scars. Seeing the shovel that could easily become a weapon. The kid broke. Folques was gonna be mad at them but at the moment that was less scary than the stranger. Kiddo ran their little legs half off looking for their big brother. As soon as they spotted him. "New person!" the said, gasping out the words, still looking as terrified as they felt, and winded from literally bouncing off walls as they ran pell mell.

Foulques has actually been heading out to check on the garden when Chara came careening through the halls. "And judging by the state of you, I take it that person is human?", he asked, though it was mostly rhetorical.

He bent down and scooped Chara up, letting them rest against him while they caught their breath. "Well at least you came to fetch me rather than leaving them to their own devices." Whether that had been the intent or not he wasn't sure, but it was still the result. "Come, let's see what this new person has to say."

They clung as tightly as if they wished to pass through him and hide on his back instead. "Do... do I ha... hafta come w...ith?" they were still out of breath.

"You were likely the first person that they saw," Foulques said. "And then you ran off, likely without a word. You needn't speak to them if you don't wish to, but if you begin a task, then you should see it through to its end."

"In any case, I will be with you, and I have faith in your courage. There is no need to worry."

"I..... I think I'd be braver.... if I could have a knife, maybe...?" they asked in a tremulous whisper.

"If you need a weapon to feel brave, then it is proof that you shouldn't have one," he said. His tone was gentle, but firm enough to brook no argument. "Courage, like any other virtue, must come from within you, because what is within you is with you always. A tool or weapon can be easily taken away; courage must needs be more reliable than that."

"Can't we start with a knife and build up to all the rest of that when I'm bigger? Right now he could squash me...."

"My answer remains unchanged," he said. "Were I to give you a weapon now, you would not be in control of it; your fear and anger would. And if you recall, we've both seen what ultimately comes from giving anger and fear more power to do harm." The glimpses of the dark future that they had both witnessed and that he had sworn to prevent.

A shudder ran through them at the memories. In some ways childhood was being kind, as they were already fading, and softening at the edges. But while that meant fewer nightmares, it also meant that immediacy came before fading fears. "But it's here, we're different. So... it should be okay right?"

"Do you truly expect that my answer will change if you ask every other moment?", he said dryly. "Because if you do, I'm afraid that you're mistaken."

"More hope... than expecting..." mumbled, looking down.

That earned an amused huff, and he shifted his hold to be able to ruffle their hair a bit. "Then I must dash your hopes in this instance," he said. "But all will be well; you'll see." He shifted his hold again to be able to open the door that led out into the courtyard.

They clung, holding their breath with fear. But they weren't fighting it any more. So... that's something?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Profile

The Isle

October 2026

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30	31

Page Summary

Style Credit

Base style: Abstractia by chiming
Theme: Abyss by chiming

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Oct. 30th, 2026 12:43 pm