A/N: Yo! Here's another chapter to keep you busy. I had it ready since V-day,
but ffnet decided to time it's split just to piss me off. =P
There is a certain tribe that once lived in the Carribean in which the custom was that memory loss could be cured by hitting the victim on the head with whatever they last remembered. If Will had an inkling of his knowledge as an Old One, he would have realised that whether or not the custom held any merit, it had curiously just happened to him. His current earliest memory held a picture of the tree that had passed by as he was brought into the hospital, and a heavy branch had just fallen off of it. Whether or not it was his silent watcher Merriman who had it fall or not, he soon awoke with a more complete memory. His name and purpose still eluded him, but he now could at least think logically.
Merriman nodded gravely from his perch over the orb, and pulled back - the magic did not have to be wasted for much longer. Will could fend for himself, at least until the Drews could be lured to the same general area as him. A letter would do well, he thought. Then the games would finally conclude and the real struggle could begin.
He stared sadly at the once full Well. Once the root of all his magic, it was now the root of all his troubles. The Well now held less then a pint of it's waters, and even this would be drained by the time the quest was through. All he had striven to prevent had looked at him with one eyed cocked and strode by, ignoring his best efforts, leaving the fate of all things good in the hands of five children without memories. The last straw for Merriman was the constant reminder that the issue of the memories had been caused by him, and him alone. Even Will's hepatitis had been originally sent by the Light to move him into Wales.
Well, he wasn't responsible for it's relapse. At least one thing could not be traced for him. Thank Arthur for that.
Barney had had a full day of constant shuffling about to forget the picture and doubts of the night before. Always he had been the one to lose to his older siblings - Simon had to be picked up from the station, Jane needed to be driven elsewhere, and Barney had to sit in the car like a lump of weeds. It seemed to him that the only useful thing he did was grow.
The environment was most probably what made Barney persue sketching, as his revelation of a sketch was the only time when he was noticed at all. And the constant driving certainly gave him time.
So when his parents mentioned something about a 'letter from Lyon' he thought nothing of it and simply slid into the car with Jane and now Simon, who, on break, really had nothing better to do. The weather had not been able to make up it's mind recently, which Barney's mind danced on as he met the chilling wind. He had grabbed a pad and a few pencils the moment before.
The ride was oddly silent. Jane thought that somebody had positively died. Of course, she thought that often; her family was not very talkative. And Barney drew some random works for a good fifteen minutes or so before coming to rest on the odd object of his memory.
He wondered if he could not get another picture from the back of his mind. Placing the pad on his lap, he slowly brought the pencil down to the blank paper, willing his mind to begin without him. The pencil moved, slowly, and Barney was almost simply watching it draw. He had no sense of surprise; it was expected.
The picture centered on a large tree. Around it stood six people - he could recognise his own face quite well, as well as those of his sister and brother. All held a Sign - a sign? Yes, a Sign, but clearly his mind spoke it with a capitalized letter - a circle, with a cross down it's center, cutting it into four sections.
And what was this? A boy with a sword. Barney had not colored the picture, but he felt that if he had, this boy would need not be colored at all. He was simply glowing off the paper.
Barney's head sagged a bit...his mind scattered. The picture grew in his eyes and enveloped them.
He heard Simon shout behind the tree, and it felt like the first sound he had heard in ages.
Will's hands went to his neck, hearing Merriman's silent command; he tore off the circle of Signs. "SIX SIGNS SHALL BURN! Take them each, and circle the tree!"
Barney reached over and seized his - the rowan-born sign of Wood - the gold had melted away like wax. And they stood brave and quivering against the threat of the Riders looming before them.
Suddenly with a jolt he remembered it all. Images came flooding into him as the dam in his mind finally snapped. They flashed before him, needing only an instant to become as familiar as the dew he found on the grass each morning. They stopped on the face of the boy they had met at Trewissick.
"WILL!"
Barney's eyes shot open, he tumbled forward - there in the road was indeed Will Stanton, who had suddenly become visible in the deep fog. He stared at the car as if he didn't really understand what it was, and then leapt aside.
Barney's father swerved around, the car spun and slammed into a rock jutting from the road. Will was lucky for the second time that day, for he had hit his head square on a rock he had seen before.
Simon and his father approached the boy, not sure whether to help or to kill him. Jane sat still, pale as if she had seen a ghost. And Barney's mind exploded in pain, finally accepting what he now knew to be true.
A/N: Review or turn into a large mole. Actually, that would make you not be able to read the rest, so never mind. *takes away voodoo spell*
There is a certain tribe that once lived in the Carribean in which the custom was that memory loss could be cured by hitting the victim on the head with whatever they last remembered. If Will had an inkling of his knowledge as an Old One, he would have realised that whether or not the custom held any merit, it had curiously just happened to him. His current earliest memory held a picture of the tree that had passed by as he was brought into the hospital, and a heavy branch had just fallen off of it. Whether or not it was his silent watcher Merriman who had it fall or not, he soon awoke with a more complete memory. His name and purpose still eluded him, but he now could at least think logically.
Merriman nodded gravely from his perch over the orb, and pulled back - the magic did not have to be wasted for much longer. Will could fend for himself, at least until the Drews could be lured to the same general area as him. A letter would do well, he thought. Then the games would finally conclude and the real struggle could begin.
He stared sadly at the once full Well. Once the root of all his magic, it was now the root of all his troubles. The Well now held less then a pint of it's waters, and even this would be drained by the time the quest was through. All he had striven to prevent had looked at him with one eyed cocked and strode by, ignoring his best efforts, leaving the fate of all things good in the hands of five children without memories. The last straw for Merriman was the constant reminder that the issue of the memories had been caused by him, and him alone. Even Will's hepatitis had been originally sent by the Light to move him into Wales.
Well, he wasn't responsible for it's relapse. At least one thing could not be traced for him. Thank Arthur for that.
Barney had had a full day of constant shuffling about to forget the picture and doubts of the night before. Always he had been the one to lose to his older siblings - Simon had to be picked up from the station, Jane needed to be driven elsewhere, and Barney had to sit in the car like a lump of weeds. It seemed to him that the only useful thing he did was grow.
The environment was most probably what made Barney persue sketching, as his revelation of a sketch was the only time when he was noticed at all. And the constant driving certainly gave him time.
So when his parents mentioned something about a 'letter from Lyon' he thought nothing of it and simply slid into the car with Jane and now Simon, who, on break, really had nothing better to do. The weather had not been able to make up it's mind recently, which Barney's mind danced on as he met the chilling wind. He had grabbed a pad and a few pencils the moment before.
The ride was oddly silent. Jane thought that somebody had positively died. Of course, she thought that often; her family was not very talkative. And Barney drew some random works for a good fifteen minutes or so before coming to rest on the odd object of his memory.
He wondered if he could not get another picture from the back of his mind. Placing the pad on his lap, he slowly brought the pencil down to the blank paper, willing his mind to begin without him. The pencil moved, slowly, and Barney was almost simply watching it draw. He had no sense of surprise; it was expected.
The picture centered on a large tree. Around it stood six people - he could recognise his own face quite well, as well as those of his sister and brother. All held a Sign - a sign? Yes, a Sign, but clearly his mind spoke it with a capitalized letter - a circle, with a cross down it's center, cutting it into four sections.
And what was this? A boy with a sword. Barney had not colored the picture, but he felt that if he had, this boy would need not be colored at all. He was simply glowing off the paper.
Barney's head sagged a bit...his mind scattered. The picture grew in his eyes and enveloped them.
He heard Simon shout behind the tree, and it felt like the first sound he had heard in ages.
Will's hands went to his neck, hearing Merriman's silent command; he tore off the circle of Signs. "SIX SIGNS SHALL BURN! Take them each, and circle the tree!"
Barney reached over and seized his - the rowan-born sign of Wood - the gold had melted away like wax. And they stood brave and quivering against the threat of the Riders looming before them.
Suddenly with a jolt he remembered it all. Images came flooding into him as the dam in his mind finally snapped. They flashed before him, needing only an instant to become as familiar as the dew he found on the grass each morning. They stopped on the face of the boy they had met at Trewissick.
"WILL!"
Barney's eyes shot open, he tumbled forward - there in the road was indeed Will Stanton, who had suddenly become visible in the deep fog. He stared at the car as if he didn't really understand what it was, and then leapt aside.
Barney's father swerved around, the car spun and slammed into a rock jutting from the road. Will was lucky for the second time that day, for he had hit his head square on a rock he had seen before.
Simon and his father approached the boy, not sure whether to help or to kill him. Jane sat still, pale as if she had seen a ghost. And Barney's mind exploded in pain, finally accepting what he now knew to be true.
A/N: Review or turn into a large mole. Actually, that would make you not be able to read the rest, so never mind. *takes away voodoo spell*