A/N: Thank you, silent H!!! Finally, someone who believes me!! Lol.I
win!! Not really, but that's not the point.
A/N: Okay, this is the fourth chapter. (Readers: No shit, Sherlock) I get to make up a character in this one!! Whee!!! You'll see.
A/N: "When you see a stranger, follow him!!" Whee..you'd have to have seen "Cowboy Bebop" to understand. Keep in mind, while writing this fic, I was sick, tired, and I couldn't get that song from "The Real World" out of my head. You know, the one that's all "There are three hundred steps to my bed.and I've had too many bottles of wine." Anyone know the song? If so, please tell so I can download it!!
A/N: ElvenJedi, I'm glad that this is your kind of fic. See, 'cause it means that I'm not the only one with my perspective, and I'm not as twisted as I thought I was!! Also, about your comments; you're right, it would just end in an e-mail war, so I'll just keep my little mouth shut.
A/N: Last note, I swear!! Okay, for this chapter all of you will have to pretend with me that all of the Charters except for Saraneth and Astarael (the two that remained in full) all became sort of like Kibeth, with little soapstone carvings and their hand-me-down remnants. So just bear with me and try to be open-minded okiedokie? It'll all be explained better in the fic.
******* He crept through the tree, stalking quietly along the branches, his claws half-drawn. His bright green eyes glittered as they looked down at the ground below and slightly north of him.
There it was. The House. A tall, white stone house with a glittering red- tile roof. There was one inhabitant inside. He was unaware of his small guest, a guest that would be with him and his ancestors until the end of time, or until one of them foolishly set him free.
His gaze shifted from the House to the well that was due east of him. He could see it clearly from his place in the Great Fig Tree. The well was old, older than the Fig Tree, older than the rose garden, both of which had been there years before the House. The well was as old as the island. It had been the first thing created after the island. It was now covered with a circular cover of wooden planks that were strangely resistant to rotting. The cover was held down by four bronze chains. "The breath of my children" it stated plainly.
The small white cat hissed. He had enough memory of the place, despite his years of coma-like sleep. Enough memory to dislike, even loath the place. It was the place of his binding, no, his imprisonment, and he had every right to hate it.
He leapt from the tree and trotted to the House, where a door was opened for him. He walked unstopped up the main stair, and was finally in the Hall, where the Abhorsen was. He jumped up onto a wine cabinet and then gracefully leapt into the rafters. Walking silently, the cat moved until he was just above the Abhorsen's head. He waited for the sending to leave and took the opportunity to jump onto the man's head.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, reaching up to grab the furry creature that had just landed on his head.
"You may not look much like your great-great-grandfather, but you are certainly just as stupid," the cat said as he wriggled out of the man's grasp and landed with a small thunk on the table.
"Wha-what are you?" the man asked.
"Cat. Well, no, not really. Name of Mogget. For now, at least," the cat replied. Hmm.good intro. I'll have to remember that, he thought.
"What do you mean 'well, no, not really'?" the ever-suspicious Abhorsen persisted.
Mogget sighed, his green eyes glittering with distaste as he looked the man up and down.
"Simple. I'm not really a cat. You don't need to know any more."
"And what's this talk of my great-great-grandfather?"
"Aren't you annoyingly curious? Second Shiner. Mosrael. Easy enough for even a simpleton like you to grasp."
The man frowned and Mogget hissed in exasperation.
"Stupid boy. No more than a child, by my standards. Mosrael had a son with a common woman. This son was your great-grandfather. He, in turn, married a woman who had Caramidael, your grandmother, who had your mother, who married and had you. Tieran. Fifth Abhorsen. Can I get some fish?"
Tieran looked at the cat who was returning his gaze with a glare.
"I'll.I'll have the sendings bring some. Why are you here?"
Mogget sighed.
"Imprisoned, for now, and bound to the service of the Abhorsen. Have the fish newly-caught, preferably still moving. I'll be back later."
With that, he jumped off the table and ran out the Hall and back outside. He trotted to the rose garden, and, slowly, as if stalking an unwitting mouse, he walked up to the well. It had not been a well many years ago, but someone had converted it into one, probably to make it less conspicuous. Mogget glared at it, and read the marks on the top of the lid.
"Breath of my Children." he murmured to himself. He knew who was down there. Lady Astarael, first Abhorsen-in-Waiting. Mogget was not a child of Astarael, but he knew how to get into the well. He leapt gracefully onto the well's lid and lifted his paw so that it hovered about an inch above one of the Charter marks that was carved onto the wood. He cast the mark and gently laid his paw onto the mark, then stepped back. He sat on his haunches, waiting.
A few seconds later, a small hole appeared in the wood. A bronze ladder rose to meet the cat, who jumped onto it and climbed down. The hole in the wood closed behind him.
Mogget was halfway down the ladder when he smelled it.
"Rosemary and amaranth." he muttered. "Fidelity in love. I knew she was still here."
He reached the bottom of the ladder and started walking. He trotted down the passageways, through small caves, and stopped when he heard it. He cocked one ear, and nodded to himself.
Up ahead, over the gentle trickle of the underground stream, he could hear a woman crying.
Astarael. Weeper.
He walked into the main chamber of the cavern, that hated chamber where he had been bound so many years before. He had little memory of the chamber itself, but he remembered the woman quite clearly.
She sat in the center of the chamber on a huge pedestal. As usual, she was dressed in all black, her long robes and dress draped elegantly over her bare feet. Her hair, usually shoulder-length, fell to the edge of the pedestal. It looked darker to Mogget, and he realized with a start that it was not dark blonde as he remembered it, but black, like Mosrael's had been. Her pale skin glowed in the fire light. Her cheeks shined wet with tears.
Despite her apparent distress, her dark eyes remained sharp. They snapped to Mogget, who froze as he stalked to her resting place.
"Yrael. What do you want?" she asked, not even sounding surprised that he was there.
"I've come to check up on you and the rest of the Charters," Mogget intoned. "And it's Mogget now. There's no point in calling me Yrael until I am free."
Astarael sat up straighter and glared at him.
"That will not be soon."
Mogget sighed and settled himself down in front of her. She looked down at him, tears still streaming down her face. She wanted to stop crying, but no though could ease her saddened mind.
"I've come to discuss what has happened to the other Charters," Mogget intoned simply.
Astarael looked at him through shining eyes.
"The five that gave themselves to the Charter have remnants. They are soapstone carvings that are either cats, like yourself, or dogs, that can be called forth using a simple sending spell."
"Alright, let's work in descending order. Nine is, as the old song says 'broken in two and buried under hill'. Eight, that's me, sits right here before you. Seven sits sobbing hopelessly before me. Where is Six, the ever-charming Binder?" Mogget asked.
Astarael looked at him balefully.
"Saraneth lives in a cavern in Mount Aunden. The area is strangely without Dead, even for a place with a Charter Stone. He spends his time posing as a merchant in Aunden, walking by the ocean and generally avoiding the public while still observing society as we know it."
"So he's not a total recluse." Mogget mused with a sly look at Astarael. "What about Five, beloved Belgaer?"
Astarael smiled ruefully.
"He is a soapstone carving of a dog; a light-tan, green eyed dog, after summoning. His remnant is in a cavern near the Wall. Belgaer wished to be surrounded by his works, so in the cavern, his statue sits on a small Charter Stone encircled by a bandolier of bells," the Weeper replied.
"And Four, the Seer?"
"It seemed fit that the first of the Clayr would live in the Clayr's Glacier. She is a soapstone cat, white and blue-eyed. She is in a small chamber off the Observatory."
Mogget's eyes gleamed as he thought of the next Charter.
"And Kibeth? Where is she, the ever-tempestuous one?"
"Strangely enough, she is also in the Clayr's Glacier, in a chamber in the Library. She rests as a dog as well, on the third plinth past the Moon Gate. A Stilken rests under the floor of her chamber."
"What about Mosrael?" Mogget asked, his voice low. "Where is your beloved Abhorsen?"
Astarael sighed and bit her lip to keep from crying even harder. She had loved Mosrael, and even though her love was returned, he had met a common woman that had later carried his child. One of many hurts that the Weeper felt.
"In a cavern in the Long Cliffs, resting under the Steps. He faced them with brick so he could hide more effectively. He is a black cat with brown eyes when he is summoned."
"Finally, for I fear your patience with me is thinning, where is lovely little Ranna?"
"In an underground chamber off the Royal Reservoir in Belisaere. Also a cat. She guards her ancestors by simply being there. All of the Charters are in Death, past the Ninth gate. When summoned they send a spirit of their spirit to take on the form of the soapstone animal. Now, Mogget, I trust you can find your own way out."
Mogget simply nodded in his agreement. He went back through the tunnels, up the ladder, through the rose garden, and back into the house. Abhorsen was waiting for him with a plate of fish.
Mogget looked up at him.
"You waited?"
Tieran shrugged.
"Sure, why not? By the way, where were you?"
"Visiting an old colleague, if you will. Not that it's any of your business. Well, it sort of is. She is a relative of yours, of sorts. Never mind. Hand over the fish."
Tieran set the plate down and walked away, shaking his head. Mogget bent down and consumed the fish, the little Saraneth on his collar jingling as he swallowed. He looked around the room and sighed.
"Thus begins my servitude," he muttered. "Mosrael's Get will pay. So will the Wallmakers, if I ever see them again."
He finished his fish and headed to the Study.
*******
A/N: Only one left!! I know this chapter was kinda pointless, but I had a plot bunny in my head, and I couldn't just ignore it. Be patient on the next one, it may take a while. Love you all, and come back for the next chapter!!
KTD
A/N: Okay, this is the fourth chapter. (Readers: No shit, Sherlock) I get to make up a character in this one!! Whee!!! You'll see.
A/N: "When you see a stranger, follow him!!" Whee..you'd have to have seen "Cowboy Bebop" to understand. Keep in mind, while writing this fic, I was sick, tired, and I couldn't get that song from "The Real World" out of my head. You know, the one that's all "There are three hundred steps to my bed.and I've had too many bottles of wine." Anyone know the song? If so, please tell so I can download it!!
A/N: ElvenJedi, I'm glad that this is your kind of fic. See, 'cause it means that I'm not the only one with my perspective, and I'm not as twisted as I thought I was!! Also, about your comments; you're right, it would just end in an e-mail war, so I'll just keep my little mouth shut.
A/N: Last note, I swear!! Okay, for this chapter all of you will have to pretend with me that all of the Charters except for Saraneth and Astarael (the two that remained in full) all became sort of like Kibeth, with little soapstone carvings and their hand-me-down remnants. So just bear with me and try to be open-minded okiedokie? It'll all be explained better in the fic.
******* He crept through the tree, stalking quietly along the branches, his claws half-drawn. His bright green eyes glittered as they looked down at the ground below and slightly north of him.
There it was. The House. A tall, white stone house with a glittering red- tile roof. There was one inhabitant inside. He was unaware of his small guest, a guest that would be with him and his ancestors until the end of time, or until one of them foolishly set him free.
His gaze shifted from the House to the well that was due east of him. He could see it clearly from his place in the Great Fig Tree. The well was old, older than the Fig Tree, older than the rose garden, both of which had been there years before the House. The well was as old as the island. It had been the first thing created after the island. It was now covered with a circular cover of wooden planks that were strangely resistant to rotting. The cover was held down by four bronze chains. "The breath of my children" it stated plainly.
The small white cat hissed. He had enough memory of the place, despite his years of coma-like sleep. Enough memory to dislike, even loath the place. It was the place of his binding, no, his imprisonment, and he had every right to hate it.
He leapt from the tree and trotted to the House, where a door was opened for him. He walked unstopped up the main stair, and was finally in the Hall, where the Abhorsen was. He jumped up onto a wine cabinet and then gracefully leapt into the rafters. Walking silently, the cat moved until he was just above the Abhorsen's head. He waited for the sending to leave and took the opportunity to jump onto the man's head.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, reaching up to grab the furry creature that had just landed on his head.
"You may not look much like your great-great-grandfather, but you are certainly just as stupid," the cat said as he wriggled out of the man's grasp and landed with a small thunk on the table.
"Wha-what are you?" the man asked.
"Cat. Well, no, not really. Name of Mogget. For now, at least," the cat replied. Hmm.good intro. I'll have to remember that, he thought.
"What do you mean 'well, no, not really'?" the ever-suspicious Abhorsen persisted.
Mogget sighed, his green eyes glittering with distaste as he looked the man up and down.
"Simple. I'm not really a cat. You don't need to know any more."
"And what's this talk of my great-great-grandfather?"
"Aren't you annoyingly curious? Second Shiner. Mosrael. Easy enough for even a simpleton like you to grasp."
The man frowned and Mogget hissed in exasperation.
"Stupid boy. No more than a child, by my standards. Mosrael had a son with a common woman. This son was your great-grandfather. He, in turn, married a woman who had Caramidael, your grandmother, who had your mother, who married and had you. Tieran. Fifth Abhorsen. Can I get some fish?"
Tieran looked at the cat who was returning his gaze with a glare.
"I'll.I'll have the sendings bring some. Why are you here?"
Mogget sighed.
"Imprisoned, for now, and bound to the service of the Abhorsen. Have the fish newly-caught, preferably still moving. I'll be back later."
With that, he jumped off the table and ran out the Hall and back outside. He trotted to the rose garden, and, slowly, as if stalking an unwitting mouse, he walked up to the well. It had not been a well many years ago, but someone had converted it into one, probably to make it less conspicuous. Mogget glared at it, and read the marks on the top of the lid.
"Breath of my Children." he murmured to himself. He knew who was down there. Lady Astarael, first Abhorsen-in-Waiting. Mogget was not a child of Astarael, but he knew how to get into the well. He leapt gracefully onto the well's lid and lifted his paw so that it hovered about an inch above one of the Charter marks that was carved onto the wood. He cast the mark and gently laid his paw onto the mark, then stepped back. He sat on his haunches, waiting.
A few seconds later, a small hole appeared in the wood. A bronze ladder rose to meet the cat, who jumped onto it and climbed down. The hole in the wood closed behind him.
Mogget was halfway down the ladder when he smelled it.
"Rosemary and amaranth." he muttered. "Fidelity in love. I knew she was still here."
He reached the bottom of the ladder and started walking. He trotted down the passageways, through small caves, and stopped when he heard it. He cocked one ear, and nodded to himself.
Up ahead, over the gentle trickle of the underground stream, he could hear a woman crying.
Astarael. Weeper.
He walked into the main chamber of the cavern, that hated chamber where he had been bound so many years before. He had little memory of the chamber itself, but he remembered the woman quite clearly.
She sat in the center of the chamber on a huge pedestal. As usual, she was dressed in all black, her long robes and dress draped elegantly over her bare feet. Her hair, usually shoulder-length, fell to the edge of the pedestal. It looked darker to Mogget, and he realized with a start that it was not dark blonde as he remembered it, but black, like Mosrael's had been. Her pale skin glowed in the fire light. Her cheeks shined wet with tears.
Despite her apparent distress, her dark eyes remained sharp. They snapped to Mogget, who froze as he stalked to her resting place.
"Yrael. What do you want?" she asked, not even sounding surprised that he was there.
"I've come to check up on you and the rest of the Charters," Mogget intoned. "And it's Mogget now. There's no point in calling me Yrael until I am free."
Astarael sat up straighter and glared at him.
"That will not be soon."
Mogget sighed and settled himself down in front of her. She looked down at him, tears still streaming down her face. She wanted to stop crying, but no though could ease her saddened mind.
"I've come to discuss what has happened to the other Charters," Mogget intoned simply.
Astarael looked at him through shining eyes.
"The five that gave themselves to the Charter have remnants. They are soapstone carvings that are either cats, like yourself, or dogs, that can be called forth using a simple sending spell."
"Alright, let's work in descending order. Nine is, as the old song says 'broken in two and buried under hill'. Eight, that's me, sits right here before you. Seven sits sobbing hopelessly before me. Where is Six, the ever-charming Binder?" Mogget asked.
Astarael looked at him balefully.
"Saraneth lives in a cavern in Mount Aunden. The area is strangely without Dead, even for a place with a Charter Stone. He spends his time posing as a merchant in Aunden, walking by the ocean and generally avoiding the public while still observing society as we know it."
"So he's not a total recluse." Mogget mused with a sly look at Astarael. "What about Five, beloved Belgaer?"
Astarael smiled ruefully.
"He is a soapstone carving of a dog; a light-tan, green eyed dog, after summoning. His remnant is in a cavern near the Wall. Belgaer wished to be surrounded by his works, so in the cavern, his statue sits on a small Charter Stone encircled by a bandolier of bells," the Weeper replied.
"And Four, the Seer?"
"It seemed fit that the first of the Clayr would live in the Clayr's Glacier. She is a soapstone cat, white and blue-eyed. She is in a small chamber off the Observatory."
Mogget's eyes gleamed as he thought of the next Charter.
"And Kibeth? Where is she, the ever-tempestuous one?"
"Strangely enough, she is also in the Clayr's Glacier, in a chamber in the Library. She rests as a dog as well, on the third plinth past the Moon Gate. A Stilken rests under the floor of her chamber."
"What about Mosrael?" Mogget asked, his voice low. "Where is your beloved Abhorsen?"
Astarael sighed and bit her lip to keep from crying even harder. She had loved Mosrael, and even though her love was returned, he had met a common woman that had later carried his child. One of many hurts that the Weeper felt.
"In a cavern in the Long Cliffs, resting under the Steps. He faced them with brick so he could hide more effectively. He is a black cat with brown eyes when he is summoned."
"Finally, for I fear your patience with me is thinning, where is lovely little Ranna?"
"In an underground chamber off the Royal Reservoir in Belisaere. Also a cat. She guards her ancestors by simply being there. All of the Charters are in Death, past the Ninth gate. When summoned they send a spirit of their spirit to take on the form of the soapstone animal. Now, Mogget, I trust you can find your own way out."
Mogget simply nodded in his agreement. He went back through the tunnels, up the ladder, through the rose garden, and back into the house. Abhorsen was waiting for him with a plate of fish.
Mogget looked up at him.
"You waited?"
Tieran shrugged.
"Sure, why not? By the way, where were you?"
"Visiting an old colleague, if you will. Not that it's any of your business. Well, it sort of is. She is a relative of yours, of sorts. Never mind. Hand over the fish."
Tieran set the plate down and walked away, shaking his head. Mogget bent down and consumed the fish, the little Saraneth on his collar jingling as he swallowed. He looked around the room and sighed.
"Thus begins my servitude," he muttered. "Mosrael's Get will pay. So will the Wallmakers, if I ever see them again."
He finished his fish and headed to the Study.
*******
A/N: Only one left!! I know this chapter was kinda pointless, but I had a plot bunny in my head, and I couldn't just ignore it. Be patient on the next one, it may take a while. Love you all, and come back for the next chapter!!
KTD
