westfallcorndog | Chat of Mythology

"Warlock is a term for someone who practices magic, but... it means 'traitor', and mages who've done research usually know that. They... would take offence," he explains with another light shrug. "We commune with the dead a lot. I don't think I've come across any mage who hasn't. Necromancers who are skilled at it can produce better results. They make sure it's the right person, a safe conversation, and can reach spirits that are more difficult to find."

He relaxes a bit as he speaks, easing into academic explanations. They're far preferable to figuring out how the balance of magic and mortals works in the world.

"But necromancers don't raise the dead where you're from? They can't make a ghoul or a zombie or anything physical like that? Or is it just that they can't make 'em talk and think?"

He opens his mouth to say more, then closes it and scowls at himself. After a quick sigh he clarifies, "I'm only guessin' 'cause I... I didn't... Understand the reaction your necromancer had when he saw me. Maybe I overthought it, but it seemed like he'd never seen somethin' like me before? A dead man who can walk and talk. I wanted to know more, but I didn't wanna ask there and show my ignorance. I showed my ignorance in other, dumber ways." He laughs lightly, but he isn't going to dwell on it.

The little white lights in his blue eyes shift toward the books, then back to Viatorus' face.

"Did you bring any books about it?..."

"Not on necromancy. I... I don't have books on that." He doesn't want to have books on that. It is, however, still a school of magic, and an important one at that. He can't avoid talking about it forever. His unease shifts across his face, but he does his best to look calm and neutral.

"Necromancers can raise the dead, but... only in basic ways. They're like mindless... servants. They can trap souls and make them speak, but... they don't say very nice things. There are undead that are smarter and more... 'whole', but they're usually made by gods and curses, not necromancers."

Viatorus pauses, resisting the urge to cringe as he thinks over Harith Nur's reaction to Harrowheart. "That's what the Necromancer was curious about. He... He's studying the human soul and what can be done with it. You're... so normal, apart from being dead. I-I'm sure he would have loved to... talk to you."

Harrow's lips thin and his eyes narrow as he absorbs what he's being told. Without realizing it he mumbles aloud, "So I doubt he'd have the power to control me. That's good..." More quiet thought follows, after which he fixes his focus on Viatorus' face once more.

"Do you trust him? Does your family trust him? Tell me about your relationship with him, what you know about him. If your family appreciated it, I might speak with him, but I have to be absolutely certain he wouldn't abuse the things I taught him."

Then, rubbing his cheek as if to feel stubble that isn't there, he gets back to more thoughtful mumbling. "Or I could tell your family directly. You are scholars, after all. If they'd be interested in that sort of knowledge..."

The offer is exceptionally kind. Part of Viatorus suspects that Harrowheart doesn't realise how kind it is. There are some members of his family who make deals like Fae and demons, and it's always so hard to spot who until it's too late.

He sits and fidgets for the longest time. His family come first. Always. Arcane knowledge second. But he's never had friends to think about until now. By rights he should eagerly agree that Harrowheart should share whatever he knows, but...

"Don't." His breathing has suddenly become heavier and the breath he draws is a little shallow. "Don't. Not... Not yet. He... He's not nice, and... my family will only refer you to him, and..."

Viatorus stops himself and pulls a smile. "You don't need to, anyway. You're my friend. You don't need to give me or my family anything."

Viatorus' visible anxiety has Harrowheart leaning in, worried yet silent. It's hard to watch the young man struggle, but he isn't going to interrupt. He waits until things are quiet to give V's shoulder a little squeeze. He tries to return the smile he's given, and finds it isn't hard to do. It doesn't last long, though.

Worried once more, he asks in a low voice, "In what way isn't he nice? Other than what I saw... He never hurt you, did he? Was he bad to you or Isidor?"

"No. No one hurts me. No one hurts Isidor. The Archon would... Nobody disobeys the Archon, and the Archon wouldn't allow anyone to hurt any member of the family." That, at least, he is certain of. Even with all the issues he has with his family, he knows they wouldn't hurt him.

"But... the Necromancer might... he might hurt you. Not if Isidor or I were there, but... What he does... is horrible." He takes a deep breath before he explains. "He... He takes human souls and puts them into things... Corpses, golems, skeletons..." Without thinking about it, he curls in on himself, rubbing his arms as if that will help the nausea of thinking about it. "They... They hate it. They're so scared, so confused, so sad..."

Harrow's mouth twists up as his face runs the full gamut of emotions. Sympathy for his friend's discomfort, guilt for the things he's done, very nearly a laugh at the dark humor of it all. It's the laugh he's got to suppress the most, really.

"How do other wizards feel about Harith's work? Do they wish he didn't do it? Does it bother them at all?"

He takes a deep breath in, holds it for a moment... And then despite his better judgment he suggests, "We could break into his workplace and free the souls? Would it make you feel better, knowing they aren't sufferin'? I'd do it, if it'd make you happy."

Viatorus looks shocked, eyes going wide and jaw dropping. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. No. No, he couldn't. Harith Nur is family. He's a scholar. To even interrupt his work would be sacrilege. If anyone found out, which they would, he'd be... it would mean... "No! No, we couldn't."

He wishes they could. He wishes the souls of the dead would be left alone in peace. He wishes...

Rubbing his eyes, he ducks his head and shakes it. "It's for knowledge. It's to gain knowledge. It... It's better than someone else doing it. It... It will be put to good use. We... We can find ways to defend against what we understand, not what we don't."

A disappointment? Perhaps. Unexpected? Not at all. Harrowheart nods solemnly and keeps his head inclined respectfully when he's through.

"Viatorus? If it's any consolation... I know that people who abuse others always get what's comin' to 'em. The dead have a way of gettin' the vengeance they deserve one way or another. There was justice for the sufferin' souls on my world when the armies of the livin' stopped the Lich King for good, and there'll be justice for the souls Harith Nur tortures, too. "

He knows he ought to shut his mouth, but it's always easier to think it than to do it. After a few seconds' hesitation he continues. "It just might take some folks on the side of good to stand up for 'em."

For better or worse he tries to smile. His hand is on V's shoulder once again, squeezing lightly.

"I'll talk to Isidor, and she can tell me I'm an idiot and a jerk who's out to kill her family, and she'll say we can't do it, and we'll assume she knows best. Then it's off our conscience. How 'bout that?"

And you know what best distracts Viatorus from the crushing realities of life, death, and torture in the afterlife? Questions! Questions about magic.

"What's Isidor's deal, anyway? You got your dreamwalkin', but what's her special magic? And her job and all? What's your family expect from her?"

All of this... strikes him dumb. He pulls his hands away from his face to stare at his friend. He doesn't know what to say. How can he explain all these things he's not even sure he understands? Harrowheart seems to give Viatorus' feelings so much weight, so much importance... The Dreamwalker doesn't really understand it. In the end, the study of a scholar is beyond condemnation.

And then Harrowheart's suggesting something that he knows won't warm Isidor up to him in the slightest. He's a little delayed in his limp protesting. "No... We shouldn't. Let's not. Let's... It's fine."

"She's... She's my patron," he recites, a little confused by the questions. "She... protects me, gives me everything I could possibly need to do my research. That's why she works in business too. To make sure we have an income, and to make sure I have access to anything I might need."

He's quiet for a minute before saying, "She should have been the scholar. She's as powerful as the Archon, and smart. Everyone wanted her to be the scholar. I know... I know she says that's not true, but... it is. I think. It feels like that. Whatever she decided to study, she would have excelled in it."

In comparison, he's rather a disappointment. Not that he's going to say that. Harrowheart thinks poorly enough of his family as it is.

Poor, sweet Viatorus. Innocent and yet so burdened. Harrowheart subtly undoes the bandages that hold one of his hands in place. When it's free, it floats toward the picnic basket while the other hand tries to distract Viatorus with some gentle back patting.

"I'm sure you're the scholar for a reason. You wouldn't have been given that job if it weren't meant to be. Things might seem hard now, but some day they'll get better. Everything's gonna fall into place before you know it, just like it did for me. Until then..."

His hand has brought out two small plates and one large, lattice-topped apple pie to go along with it. It cuts a generous slice with a pie server and lazily scoops it onto the plate. A heavy-looking iron fork is set on top, and then the hand gently floats its gift to Viatorus.

"Eat pie. And tell me more about bein' you. I wanna hear what it's like bein' nobility. You and Isidor are kinda like a prince and princess, huh? I figure that means y'all've been promised to wed someone since you were born. What's Isidor's future husband like? He treat you nice? He better, or I'll have to show him what's what."

He's about to correct Harrowheart in that compulsively educational way of his when the other surprises him again. It even distracts him from the bizarre sight of a floating hand offering him pie. Well. Sort of. He still has to do a double take.

"Prince and princess? We're not... We're not even nobility, Harrowheart. Not really. Some of the family is, but not us. We're just... an old, rich family," he explains as he hesitantly accepts the plate. Controlling those hands will be a memory he'll never forget, and the finite control Harrowheart has over them is a momentary distraction. Once his thoughts catch up he immediately wishes they hadn't.

The topic brings a light blush to his cheeks. "Oh... No... We... The marriages are arranged a little later in life. I... I don't know who Isidor's going to marry yet. She's strong, and our parents listen to her more. I'm sure she'll find someone... nice."

Harrow blinks hard, and when his eyes open again he stares at Viatorus. "W-wait. You're not nobles? But you've got a mansion! And wealth, and servants! And folks respect you! You must own land, right? And you're old blood, and – and you're related to a dragon? Everything about y'all seemed like you were... I really thought... Shoot..."

He smears his hand around his face to hide his embarrassment. Well, hey. At least he's not alone in it, judging by Viatorus' expression. And there is the added bonus of finding out that Isidor isn't currently seeing anyone. That's going to make his ~~creeping~~ interactions with her a little easier.

"You say 'nice' like you don't believe it. Do you not think there's someone good out there for her? Or is it somethin' else on your mind? Worried about yourself, maybe?..."

Edited 2016-06-06 19:28 (UTC)

"I'm sorry." It's a compulsive reaction. Somehow he feels like he's disappointed Harrowheart. He thinks? "We're just... us. We have land, and status, but we don't own titles. Not that non-mages care about."

"Oh..." Harrowheart does have to ask the most difficult questions, doesn't he? Viatorus tries not to look as flustered as he feels. 'Tries' being the operative word here. "It's... just that our marriages are for our bloodline. For... To ensure our bloodline remains magically strong, powerful. And they're for status."

He fidgets and shuffles on the spot. "I... I worry that... Happiness isn't really an important thing. I know that's... that's not what marriage is about, but... Everyone else -normal people, I mean- always seem to put love first. Isidor might learn to love her husband... but she might not. A nice husband, a kind one, would be some consolation if she didn't love him. I think." A hard swallow rolls down his throat and he ducks his head, looking at the plate in his hands. "This must sound terribly silly to you."

Harrow's detached hand nervously plucks grass while his other absently rubs at his leg.

"I..."

No, he's not ready. In fairness, he's probably never going to be ready. This isn't a story he can avoid telling or one he can lie about. Viatorus is right, and it's the reality of the world, and to fill his head otherwise would be unfair and unkind.

"I guess it... It would be like that on Earth, too, wouldn't it? That blood comes first. Children are important when you got a lineage to think about."

He bites his lips, presses them into a thin line. As he looks down at the blanket he fills his head with thoughts, and, very unexpectedly, suddenly he snorts a half-hearted little laugh. He nudges V with his elbow and lifts his chin at him.

"At least it means you don't gotta date, huh? Datin's the worst, man. I've dated so many people, and it's heartbreak every time. I don't know why I keep tryin'. Guess I'm too dumb to learn my lesson."

In an effort to keep upbeat he gently paps the back of his hand against V's thigh. "You wanna hear some stories about crazy folks I dated? I think you'd like some of 'em. I'll keep out all the sad parts, if I can."

When Viatorus looks up from the pie to Harrowheart, his expression is a sceptical on. The kind where he's trying to discern whether the other is just being kind or not.

"I thought people like dating. That's why there are so many movies about it, and people talk about it so much." This doesn't add up at all. Hesitantly, he decides to enquire further. "What is it like?"

"What's datin' like? Man, I'll tell you this much: It ain't like the movies. In the movies they gotta make sure people wanna watch the story, right? So they make it real funny, real perfect. Sometimes they make it real sad, but whatever they do, they do it so folks care about it. In real life it ain't always like that. In real life, it's hard work."

He shifts around as he mentally preps a story and distracts himself with re-wrapping his wrist.

"It's like this: When you're datin', it's like you're constantly competin' against the world to win the love of the person you like. It ain't like you just say 'Let's date,' and that's that, and some day you're married. You gotta learn about each other's secrets, you gotta struggle past your flaws. You gotta decide what things about yourself you're willin' to change 'cause they just plain don't like that side of you. It's always about walkin' the line between sacrifice, gift-givin', and remindin' them that you love 'em. But you can't love 'em too much or too fast, or you look desperate and they leave. And you can't love 'em too little, or they look for it someplace else. And sometimes even if you love someone with all your heart and all your soul, they just don't love you back. Sometimes it's for sad reasons, like they went and cheated on you. Other times it's things like not bein' able to get along with their family, or not bein' what the other wants in bed, or not agreein' about politics and religion. Sometimes it ain't even for a good reason, or a real reason. Maybe your girlfriend or boyfriend decides one day that they don't like the way you wear your clothes, or the way you cook, or the way you talk and that's it. They wanna leave you. And every breakup feels like someone you loved just died. Your mind gets spinnin' about the future you had planned out and the good times you had, and it's sad. And it's hard.

"And I guess the worst part is... When you date someone... You either wind up marryin' 'em, or go your separate ways and never see each other again. They're either in your life forever, or out of it forever. 'Cause trust me, it ain't easy to be friends with someone after they break your heart."

His hands are on his wrists again and he's rubbing his palms together. "Shoot, man, I'm sorry... I said I wouldn't make it sad and then I went and did it anyway. But that's what datin's like. Hard work, hard realities, generally pretty much doomed. But I do it anyway, 'cause when it's good, it's so good. You think about all the reasons a person could leave you, and you realize that they're with you anyway. They choose you through all those struggles, and it's 'cause they think you're so important. They think you're worth the fights and the hard times, the bad fashion and the politics and other folks temptin' 'em. They're with you 'cause they love you, and there's nothin' in the world like feelin' loved by someone that you love back."

As Harrowheart starts his tale, Viatorus begins to pick at the pie. Tiny bites to nibble on while he listens. It... isn't as pleasant a story as he was expecting. Slowly, a frown forms on his brow and his eyes move across Harrowheart's face, then off to one side as he takes all of this in. Romance... love... really isn't turning out to be like he thought.

There's still a lot of pie left by the time Harrowheart changes his tune and tries to back-pedal. Viatorus sets the plate down and rubs his head with a hand. "It shouldn't be like that. It shouldn't be so hard, and so sad. It's not right."

"Everything's so difficult, Harrowheart," he says after a moment's silence.

Harrow rests an arm across his friend's shoulders and sighs heavily. He can't seem to help but throw Viatorus into cycles of sadness and confusion. But that's life, isn't it?

"Everything is so difficult," he agrees readily. His tone is calm, even on the side of light and casual despite it all. "And that's what it's like bein' an adult. It turns out most things in life are really, really hard, and nobody's got all the answers. Even the smartest people can be confused by life. Even good people hurt other people on accident. Problems come along sometimes and it seems like there's no easy way out. Sometimes it seems like there's no way out at all. But that's what everyone goes through! Not every day, but often enough. Everyone's got times when their dreams don't come true and when their future doesn't make sense and when the things they love feel so far away. But you know what?"

He shrugs his far shoulder and leans so that he can get a good look at Viatorus' face. "That's what good friends are here for. They're here to tell you what to watch out for and to help you up when you fall – and you will fall, because everybody falls sometimes. Life ain't somethin' you can study and plan for to avoid all the bumps in the road. Everyone you've ever known and ever will meet has failed or felt heartache, man. Don't ever let 'em fool you.

"You can't avoid the difficult stuff without missin' out on the good stuff too. And, honestly?..." He smiles now and jostles V lightly to be sure he's paying attention. "I wouldn't trade all the bad I've felt for all the good I've felt. I wouldn't give up the breakups if it meant givin' up knowin' how it felt to fall asleep in the arms of someone I loved. It might seem like things shouldn't be hard, but I wouldn't'a learned anything I know now if it hadn't been for the hard times. Things aren't just hard so the universe can punish you, man. They're hard because we're all learnin' our lessons. Lessons that we pass on to others."

He gives another quick shake that comes with a confident smile. "Once you get some experiences, you'll believe me. Some day you'll be the one givin' someone this talk."

He props himself up, elbows on knees, while he listens to Harrowheart. It's not entirely sensible, or logical, in some aspects. The smartest people should be mentally prepared, the good should effortlessly avoid hurting others. But then, the universe has never been overly concerned at fitting into human understanding.

"I think that unlocking the secrets of the magical world is easier than navigating life," he decides quietly. He takes a deep breath in and looks at Harrowheart, trying to appear more curious than concerned. "Did someone tell you all this? Did you have someone to explain the confusing things to you?"

Harrow shakes his head and laughs at Viatorus' assessment of the universe. When he quiets down he's smiling softly, still shaking his head.

"My brother Lawrence, who's five or six years older than me, taught me a lotta stuff when I was a teenager. Mom and Dad, too. But I guess I figured a lot of it out on my own. I made my own mistakes – boy, did I ever – and I learned from 'em. But mostly I thought about folks in my free time?"

He twists up his face as he thinks, tries to find the words he wants.

"I think I told you before I was shy growin' up, right? I didn't have a lotta friends. I spent most of my time quiet, even around my family, and I thought. But I didn't know anything smart like magic or math or alchemy or anything like that. So... Mostly I thought about people. I'd work out in the fields and think about the things folks did or said, and I'd ask myself 'Why'd she do that?' 'Why'd he say that?' I guess after a while I got used to recognizin' the secret reasons folks did the things they did. Usually it's 'cause they were scared in one way or another. Sometimes it was 'cause they were naive and wanted to do somethin' good but hadn't thought it through. I think mostly it was the second, kinda. Folks just don't always think things through. They make a decision now and don't think about how it's gonna be in the future."

Laughing, he lightly pokes his thumb into his chest. "I'm like that. I know I am. When things get hectic, I can't think for the future. I act now and deal with it later, which... Ain't a great way to go through life, but I still haven't figured out how to think ahead. And, see, that's how folks who're mostly good sometimes do stuff that really, really ain't. Everything's got a pattern if you look deep enough. You can't always predict what someone's gonna do before they do it, but you can think about what drives 'em and the ways their brain works. You can figure out what they did in the past or what they do in the present, and you can kinda make sense of it."

He looks away, but only briefly. His eyes are back on Viatorus and his smile is still there.

"You wanna practice thinkin' about other folks' motivations? Maybe it'd do you some good? You could tell me about someone you don't always get, and tell me somethin' they do that really makes you confused, and we can walk through what's probably goin' through their minds to get them where they are."

Chuckling quietly he adds, "If you can't think of someone, you can say 'Harrowheart' and we can see what you think about why I do the stuff I do? I promise I won't get mad if you guess bad stuff."

A lot of what Harrowheart makes sense. Pondering things helps unlock their secrets. Everything can usually be traced back to a simple cause. Patterns can be found in everything. Practice does make perfect. Viatorus takes all of this in with a small, slow nodding. It's familiar, and that helps. Makes it easier to accept and adapt to.

The exercise is met with Viatorus immediately opening his mouth, and then closing it shut again. The Archon has always baffled him, even with the repeated mantras everyone seems to explain him with. But Harrowheart, like many of his friends, has heard so many of the worse parts of his family. He doesn't want to add more to that list, and the Archon is certainly not any kind of paragon of kindness.

He falters and tries to think of someone else. Most of the people he knows he doesn't know well enough to be confused about them. There's Amelia, and she confuses him more than enough, but... there are feelings and questions there that are still in the process of being buried. Some things are best buried.

After thorough consideration he looks at his friend apologetically. "I-If you're sure you don't mind being the example..."

Harrow puffs out his cheeks while he thinks this all through. His breath comes out in a quick, cold puff, and, after heaving another sigh for good measure he nods. He's sure to smile after so that Viatorus knows this isn't a burden.

"Hard to think about myself. Harder to say it all out loud. How about... Why... Does... Harrowheart get all violent and mean sometimes?"

He tips his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Well, usually when I wanna answer those kindsa questions, I think: What was their past like? What kinda life do they come from? And then I think about what emotions they might be feelin'. And after that I think about the goal the person's got in mind. So I'd think about it like this:

"He grew up in the country, and maybe that's how people act? Or maybe not, so maybe that's not it. And he was a soldier, and soldiers solve their problems by fightin', so maybe that's it? Well, maybe that's part of it. He's a worgen, too, and maybe they're just fighty animals, even if he isn't always in his worgen form. Well, maybe that's true and maybe it isn't. There's a lotta folks who'd say it's true 'cause it's an easy way out, but I don't think it's ever fair to just assume a person acts the way they do because they're not all human. So we'll go ahead and think a little deeper than 'he's undead,' too.

"Then, what does he feel when he says he's gonna fight people? Depends on the context, doesn't it? Maybe he said he was gonna fight the necromancer in the mansion 'cause he was scared of what he could do. But there's lots of things folks can do when they're scared. It doesn't always have to be violence. They could just admit it, or they stay real quiet, or they could keep real cool so nobody has any idea how they feel. So why act mean when he coulda done other things? What'd he hope to achieve?"

Harrow pauses, shrugs again. "Maybe he wanted to look big and scary 'cause he likes lookin' big and scary. Maybe that's how he wants people to see him sometimes. Maybe he likes it when people are afraid of him, and then he feels powerful."

He raises his eyebrows then and says, "Or maybe not. You really gotta know a person well to know their deep motivations. Usually I settle on knowin' their history and their emotions at the time. Solves it well enough to fix things, usually. Close as most of us'll ever come to really knowin' what another person's thinkin' without bein' in their head and knowin' all the secret things they've done and seen and thought that drive 'em forward."

It's just as well Harrowheart's careful to use the right body language. It circumvents Viatorus' initial fear that he'd stepped a line. Sometimes it's so hard to tell.

The approach Harrowheart takes does make Viatorus wince a little though. He would never have dared say any such thing about his friend. He might have thought it once or twice, but that's another thing entirely.

He settles into listening with a furrowed brow, but takes all of it in with the occasional nod to make sure Harrowhearts knows he's following.

"And when you know all of these things. Or, when you've guessed all of these things. What do you do then? What do you do with all these suspicions and the empathy?" He takes a breath, pausing to try and explain his questions. "Because... Because... usually that... just makes me better able to... feel what they feel, and... Then I can't do anything. I can't help. I can just... feel. I can't think clearly."

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