Timeline: During/before the 1st book.
Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.
Madness
It started out as a small voice in the furthest corners of his mind.
Not unlike a conscience, it whispered to him, tried to enchant him, to draw him in with prospects of making everything Right again.
He ignored it of course. Fowls never obeyed anyone's orders, not even their not-unlike-a-conscience.
But the words ever stopped. Every day, every hour, they were murmured into his mind's ear. Ideas, schemes, diagrams, plans. Like his thoughts, the words never stopped.
Egypt. Immortality. Nectar of Life. Healing.
A small part of him noted the strength of his obsession with wry interest. He had always thought more than the average person, he knew. Thinking had never been a conscious effort on his part, rather, he had to force himself to stop when he desired peace. It was the reason he had picked up mediation in the first place, to sort out his mind.
But this was different.
Doctors. Healers. Midwifes. Witches
Ever since That Day, his thoughts had taken a decidedly darker turn. He had no shame in admitting that, anyone in his position could be accepted to grieve for a time. He had lost a Mother and a Father in the space of twenty four hours. It would be strange if he had not mourned.
But the voice was not telling him to grieve over what had been Lost.
It was telling him to get them Back.
Supernatural. Miracles. Paranormal. Magic.
And that was exactly what he was going to do. He was going to take back what was His. The How mattered little. He was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his Goal. His Plan had full priority over everything, whether it be humans or otherwise that got in his way.
Fantasy. Elves. Fairies.
It is not madness to hear voices, not if they tell you what you have already planned to do.
FIN