Magic Under Construction: Little Aidan
Feb. 19th, 2011 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexandraerinStarted: 2/19/2011, 8:50 AM
Status: Begun
Last Update: 9:20 AM
Word Count: ~850
Time Writing: 0.5 hours.
[Half hour in.]
Aderick Lythander was big for a man. He stood more than seven feet tall, broad of shoulder and barrel-chested. His outfit looked like it belonged to someone from an earlier age, for the very good reason that it did.
Actually, it looked like it belonged to as many as three people from an earlier age, comprising stout metal plate, striped cotton leggings, and a voluminous cloak of deep blue. On his back hung a sword that was taller than some men. A lap harp was slung on a leather thong hanging off his belt. His left hand clutched a brushed steel staff that was a good eight feet tall, not counting the crystal orb at the top, nor the blue-scaled foot that grasped it in long-dead claws.
He would have stood out in any tavern, even if it hadn't been empty of all but himself and one another man.
"You understand, Danny, I'm not looking for someone to look after the boy for a little while," he said to his companion. "I want you and Dell to raise him, take him as your own. I'll not ask you to love him..."
"Then you don't understand what you're asking," Dan Harris replied.
"Well, it's what I would hope for," Lythander said. "But I know the heart will not be compelled. In any event, I won't be coming back for him even if I survive... certainly not to claim him, and possibly not at all."
"Of course," Dan said. "But you know you'd be welcome to visit him."
Lythander shook his head.
"It wouldn't do," he said. "Not while he's a lad, at least. It's hard enough to give up a child completely. Giving up one halfway? It's more than I can bear. It wouldn't be fair to you and Dell, either, and most of all it wouldn't be fair to him. A boy should know who his folks are, Dan. He should have a father he can look at, not just up to."
"I know you're after an answer in a hurry, but I couldn't accept this on my own," Dan said. "Not without talking to Dell."
"I came now because she was away," Lythander said.
"And if you'd told me what you wanted of me, I would've told you not to bother," Dan said. "She's off at her father's estate and won't be back for another week."
"I told you his mother died," he said.
Dan nodded.
"No one can sympathize moe than me... my own mother died in birthing me," he said.
"She did not die in childbirth," Lythander said. "My father killed her, to punish me... for defiance. For weakening our line, supposedly, but in truth it was for defiance. I could have dallied for a lifetime with my bride and still found plenty of time after to mate with someone he found suitable."
"So now you're after vengeance, then," Dan said.
"Perhaps," Lythander said. "Perhaps not. There is something in me that wishes to earn my father's punishment, by seeking out more of his kind and sending them to the Herald, hastening our descent down the path he fears to tread. I do not know that I will do that. I do know that I cannot live the rest of my life pinched betwixt a pair of claws. Any vengeance I earn in slaying my father will be incidental to my purpose, which is freedom."
"Do you think you can possibly succeed?" Dan asked. "I mean, I know nothing of your father, in particular, but isn't he..."
"A full dragon? Aye," Lythander said. "A greater one, in fact. But even a human may slay a greater dragon. There is something about the mortal created kinds that dragons do not really understand. Mortals themselves do not often grasp it. I, who have divided a score of centuries between both worlds, have only begun to comprehend."
"And what is that?"
"I said I've only begun to comprehend it, not that I can articulate it," Lythander said. "But I have seen archwizards weave spells that leave the elemental titans speechless. I have seen devoted priests channel the powers of their gods to work feats that... though they would never admit it... would be beyond the abilities of the gods themselves to achieve in such a fashion. I have seen men who could steal a bit of luck as easily as they'd palm a gold coin, weave the motes of daylight into a song, and hide themselves away in plain sight in an empty room. Mortals are small and weak and fragile by nature, but they are inclined towards a greatness that beggars the heavens."
"You should have been a poet, Thander," Dan said.
"I have been. But I sense that you are not convinced."
"The greatest thing I ever achieved wasn't because I'm half-human," Dan said.
"Oh? Do you think your infernal father would have dove beneath decks to try to salvage the levitator?" Lythander asked.
"Wouldn't know, I've never met the gent," Dan said.
Status: Begun
Last Update: 9:20 AM
Word Count: ~850
Time Writing: 0.5 hours.
[Half hour in.]
Aderick Lythander was big for a man. He stood more than seven feet tall, broad of shoulder and barrel-chested. His outfit looked like it belonged to someone from an earlier age, for the very good reason that it did.
Actually, it looked like it belonged to as many as three people from an earlier age, comprising stout metal plate, striped cotton leggings, and a voluminous cloak of deep blue. On his back hung a sword that was taller than some men. A lap harp was slung on a leather thong hanging off his belt. His left hand clutched a brushed steel staff that was a good eight feet tall, not counting the crystal orb at the top, nor the blue-scaled foot that grasped it in long-dead claws.
He would have stood out in any tavern, even if it hadn't been empty of all but himself and one another man.
"You understand, Danny, I'm not looking for someone to look after the boy for a little while," he said to his companion. "I want you and Dell to raise him, take him as your own. I'll not ask you to love him..."
"Then you don't understand what you're asking," Dan Harris replied.
"Well, it's what I would hope for," Lythander said. "But I know the heart will not be compelled. In any event, I won't be coming back for him even if I survive... certainly not to claim him, and possibly not at all."
"Of course," Dan said. "But you know you'd be welcome to visit him."
Lythander shook his head.
"It wouldn't do," he said. "Not while he's a lad, at least. It's hard enough to give up a child completely. Giving up one halfway? It's more than I can bear. It wouldn't be fair to you and Dell, either, and most of all it wouldn't be fair to him. A boy should know who his folks are, Dan. He should have a father he can look at, not just up to."
"I know you're after an answer in a hurry, but I couldn't accept this on my own," Dan said. "Not without talking to Dell."
"I came now because she was away," Lythander said.
"And if you'd told me what you wanted of me, I would've told you not to bother," Dan said. "She's off at her father's estate and won't be back for another week."
"I told you his mother died," he said.
Dan nodded.
"No one can sympathize moe than me... my own mother died in birthing me," he said.
"She did not die in childbirth," Lythander said. "My father killed her, to punish me... for defiance. For weakening our line, supposedly, but in truth it was for defiance. I could have dallied for a lifetime with my bride and still found plenty of time after to mate with someone he found suitable."
"So now you're after vengeance, then," Dan said.
"Perhaps," Lythander said. "Perhaps not. There is something in me that wishes to earn my father's punishment, by seeking out more of his kind and sending them to the Herald, hastening our descent down the path he fears to tread. I do not know that I will do that. I do know that I cannot live the rest of my life pinched betwixt a pair of claws. Any vengeance I earn in slaying my father will be incidental to my purpose, which is freedom."
"Do you think you can possibly succeed?" Dan asked. "I mean, I know nothing of your father, in particular, but isn't he..."
"A full dragon? Aye," Lythander said. "A greater one, in fact. But even a human may slay a greater dragon. There is something about the mortal created kinds that dragons do not really understand. Mortals themselves do not often grasp it. I, who have divided a score of centuries between both worlds, have only begun to comprehend."
"And what is that?"
"I said I've only begun to comprehend it, not that I can articulate it," Lythander said. "But I have seen archwizards weave spells that leave the elemental titans speechless. I have seen devoted priests channel the powers of their gods to work feats that... though they would never admit it... would be beyond the abilities of the gods themselves to achieve in such a fashion. I have seen men who could steal a bit of luck as easily as they'd palm a gold coin, weave the motes of daylight into a song, and hide themselves away in plain sight in an empty room. Mortals are small and weak and fragile by nature, but they are inclined towards a greatness that beggars the heavens."
"You should have been a poet, Thander," Dan said.
"I have been. But I sense that you are not convinced."
"The greatest thing I ever achieved wasn't because I'm half-human," Dan said.
"Oh? Do you think your infernal father would have dove beneath decks to try to salvage the levitator?" Lythander asked.
"Wouldn't know, I've never met the gent," Dan said.