Zakath/Aubrey. Reflections in the water.
Apr. 14th, 2007 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
actionreactionDay 14 of 31_days.
It wasn’t clear when the change started. It could have been happening slowly for weeks, well before either of them noticed. It could have been happening before Zakath rubbed a thumb along Aubrey’s ear casually, and said nothing but a quiet hum in question. It was probably happening well before Aubrey actually caught his reflection in the water late one morning and saw, for the first time, what looked more like elf than human looking back at him.
His features hadn’t actually changed, nothing except his ears. They had grown into points, longer than that of a half elf, almost as pointed as Zakath’s own, and the fact that the sixteen year old suddenly looked like an elf was by far the most distressing thing to him. He looked up at Zakath, childish petulant worry and anguish on his face.
Zakath didn’t have answers, but he hoped the nearest two wizards might. When mage after mage came up empty-handed – and quite a few turned up dead – Zakath turned to the divine, to the clerics. It wasn’t until the fifth that finally thought it might have something to do with Aubrey’s lineage, as he remembered nothing about his parents. Two day and a hefty sum of gold later and they finally had their answer.
“What’s a spring child?” Aubrey questioned, and the exhausted cleric collapsed in his chair after a day-long ritual of analyzing Aubrey’s ancestry. He’d already gotten past the worry over his ears; it took Zakath only six words to fix that problem. “They look more like mine now.”
And hours later they finally headed back to their fortress of ice, smiles on Aubrey’s face, content in the knowledge that he’d never grow old, live as long as Zakath, and that he was even more special now than he’d ever known.
It wasn’t clear when the change started. It could have been happening slowly for weeks, well before either of them noticed. It could have been happening before Zakath rubbed a thumb along Aubrey’s ear casually, and said nothing but a quiet hum in question. It was probably happening well before Aubrey actually caught his reflection in the water late one morning and saw, for the first time, what looked more like elf than human looking back at him.
His features hadn’t actually changed, nothing except his ears. They had grown into points, longer than that of a half elf, almost as pointed as Zakath’s own, and the fact that the sixteen year old suddenly looked like an elf was by far the most distressing thing to him. He looked up at Zakath, childish petulant worry and anguish on his face.
Zakath didn’t have answers, but he hoped the nearest two wizards might. When mage after mage came up empty-handed – and quite a few turned up dead – Zakath turned to the divine, to the clerics. It wasn’t until the fifth that finally thought it might have something to do with Aubrey’s lineage, as he remembered nothing about his parents. Two day and a hefty sum of gold later and they finally had their answer.
“What’s a spring child?” Aubrey questioned, and the exhausted cleric collapsed in his chair after a day-long ritual of analyzing Aubrey’s ancestry. He’d already gotten past the worry over his ears; it took Zakath only six words to fix that problem. “They look more like mine now.”
And hours later they finally headed back to their fortress of ice, smiles on Aubrey’s face, content in the knowledge that he’d never grow old, live as long as Zakath, and that he was even more special now than he’d ever known.