~AN~ Whoa---now that was quick response. Here's the second chapter, as promised---is seven pages long enough?
And yes, I do like focusing on Jackle's instability. Be warned. ^_^
Disclaimer: "I hate Telletubbies. That's all there is to it." ---AC
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion…
The Hollow Men, by T. S. Eliot
Chapter Two:
The Thousandth Man
Hadrian glanced up as Luna stomped into the teachers' lounge, looking like she was out for blood. 'I wonder what has her in such a huff.'
The sparring instructor looked around. "Where's Terrance and Tessa?"
Hadrian, being the only one there, gestured over his shoulder with a toss of his head. "They went to the kitchens. Both of them."
"Of course," muttered Luna. Terrance and Tessa were a brother and sister who never parted if they could help it. They wouldn't have gone for lunch alone.
She looked at the other maren accusingly. "You were attacked by a golem and you never told anybody?"
Hadrian returned her gaze calmly, his focused eye squarely on her face, his unfocused one looking ahead dully. His lopsided stare was a mistake made while he was created, often blamed on the fact that he was created out of a single emotion. All maren who had been made out of one type of energy alone seemed to have a flaw or two.
He spoke quietly, showing his unruffled nature. "Yes."
Luna sighed and folded her arms. "Why?"
"There was no need."
"No need?" Her tone took on a cutting edge. "I often run training sessions with a large group of beginners in Mystic Forest, and you felt there was no need to tell me a golem, and one that has attacked maren for no reason, was sighted there?"
"Exactly." Hadrian looked back down at the book he'd been studying.
Luna let a frustrated breath out through her lips, blowing her tangled hair out of her face and showing her disgust in the same movement. "Listen. If anything like this ever happens again, I will be angry. Very angry. And I will try to kill you. Tell me about these things, okay?"
"Very well." Hadrian did not look up from his book.
Luna groaned and leaned back, wondering what to do next. Her gaze fell on his shoulder, which was bandaged. "How's the wound?"
"Healing. It will be better within a day or two, I am told."
Luna nodded and got up, heading for the Great Hall, intending to speak with Terrance and Tessa. "Hope you feel better soon," she tossed over her shoulder as she went out.
Hadrian felt no need to reply. Being made solely out of the feeling of self-assurance, he was a very solid, taciturn, and calm person. Why bother replying?
Clawz was muttering to himself as he stalked down the hallway, growling about, as usual, a certain demi-maren. This time the crime was tardiness.
"That air-head's been gone for an entire day now!" he snarled. "He probably forgot all about our scouting mission yesterday, the idiot…"
"He may have some larger appointment to keep," murmured a voice.
Clawz shot a glare at the figure reclining against the doorway, hands locked behind her back in a posture of meekness, eyes looking into the High Seeker's without a trace of fear. RagDoll.
RagDoll was queer. Not odd or different, like Insomnia or Morgen, but queer. Grotesque, almost. She wore striped pants topped with a white shirt and black vest, and her face was also white. Black marking were scattered across it, reminding one of the stitches on a child's doll, and two white X's were imprinted over her eyes. Her hair reached down to her knees. She walked with an unmistakable gait, swaying and staggering as if every joint in her body were loose; her eyes rolled about almost constantly, as if she were searching for something.
Now those eyes, ones that did not reflect any light, fixed on the catmaren's face for a moment before roaming across the room. Her attention was still focused upon him, however. "He may have had something else to do."
"I doubt it," muttered Clawz, moving away as he did so. He didn't like to admit it, but RagDoll gave him goosebumps.
"You have reason to doubt me," observed RagDoll in her odd monotone, eyes now running up to inspect the ceiling before going back to circling the room. Her head rolled sideways to follow the catmaren.
"Not really."
"And yet you say he did not have another appointment," she pointed out as she began to scan the floor, eyes rolling down in her head until they nearly disappeared.
"Perhaps he did," conceded Clawz, giving himself enough time to get out of the room without her replying. As he went down the hall, he could feel the hairs on his neck pricking straight up.
Reala strode down the hall, smirking slightly as maren scattered trying to get out of his way, faces glancing at him in wonder and fear before turning away hurriedly to disappear into the crowd. Now he held their respect fully. There would be no more fooling around.
Eyes lingered longer on Jackle. The demi-maren hung his head slightly, praying that no one would remark out loud. He didn't want to hear it.
Why not?
He jumped as another consciousness entered his mind without warning. 'I wish you wouldn't do that!' he replied, annoyed.
Forgive us.
'It's alright.' He looked to the side as one young maren stared at his face. 'But what did you mean, why not?'
Why are you afraid of people seeing your face?
'Are you blind or something? I look hideous.'
Really? The voices showed surprise. Whatever happened to "It's perfect"?
'That was before every maren and his brother started staring at me.'
They're admiring you.
'Oh yeah, right. I'm sure.' He shot a sarcastic glance at a young boy, who gave a startled "Eep!" and dove into the crowd. 'Yes, I'm SURE they're admiring me.'
We didn't mean admire as in love, Jackle. We meant respect and fear.
'Well what if I don't want their respect and fear?' retorted Jackle.
Whyever would you not?
'Because…' He faltered. 'Because…'
Because?
'I don't know,' he admitted. 'But I don't want it!' he added defiantly.
Very well. The voices sounded amused as they left. Trust us, you will soon.
'What do you mean?' he asked. But they were already gone.
He sighed and pulled his cloak tighter about himself. He was beginning to feel lost, somehow.
Terrance stood on tip-toe, straining to see over the crowd. "There's something going on!"
"I can see that," replied his sister dryly. She watched the gathered maren calmly; this amount of maren was normal. Breakfast was over and training was beginning, and for the next fifteen minutes or so the halls would be crowded. She looked at her brother, cocking a thin eyebrow. "Why don't you levitate?"
"Oh yeah!" Terrance sprang up, floating a good five feet off the floor. "Hey, now I can see!"
"Yes, you can see," Tessa murmured sarcastically. "Terrance, if it weren't for me, you would be dead by now. From stupidity."
"It looks like a parade or something," reported Terrance, completely ignoring her insult. "Gee, wonder why no one else thought to fly…"
"Because they're morons?" suggested Tessa, looking up at her brother impatiently. "Like you? Come on, Terrance. I'm hungry."
"Not yet!" Terrance strained forward. "Looks like…hey, that looks like Reala and Jackle!"
Tessa's eyes were touched with a faint light of interest. "Finally. What are they doing?"
"Just walking along---but everyone's staring at them like they're aliens!"
"No wonder. They've been missing all night."
"No, I don't think that's it. People are acting like there's something wrong with them….dude!"
Tessa looked up in spite of herself. "What?"
"Jackle's face---it's like, not there!"
"Jackle's face isn't there?' repeated Tessa. "What do you mean, it's not there?"
"It's not there!"
"It was ripped off?" Tessa looked vaguely startled. Who would attack a High Seeker?
"No, it's like his whole head just isn't there!"
This was enough to merit her full attention. She shot up, leveling out gracefully beside her brother to stare at the two leaders. "…shards," was her decision. "What's happened to his face?"
"I don't know! It's just not there! You can see his eyes and mouth, but the rest is just gone!"
"Odd," she commented, and looked at Reala, almost expecting the Seeker General to be without a face as well. He wasn't, but the one he had certainly looked different. "Reala's changed as well," she pointed out.
"Yeah. He looks like a rabid clown."
"Really?" She pondered their object of attention for a moment, coming to a swift conclusion. "You're right."
"But Jackle's just plain freaky," decided Terrance, looking back to the demi-maren. "It's gonna take me some time to get used to that, I can tell you."
"For once I agree with you," replied Tessa, and went back down to the floor. Terrance looked down at her.
"Hey, where are you going? We haven't found out what happened yet!"
"Yes, but Reala and Jackle obviously aren't sharing," she replied calmly, heading for the door. "We'll hear it through the grapevine soon enough. Now come on. I'm hungry."
Shooting once last longing glance at the centers of attention, Terrance followed her.
Jackle muttered something to himself in relief as the two finally made it through the crowd and into the sanctuary of the Great Hall. Of course, there the attention was going to be a lot more personal.
"For the love of dreams, what happened to you?!" gasped Puffy.
Jackle groaned under his breath and plopped down in front of the fire. "Don't ask."
"We've been perfected," replied Reala proudly, standing tall in the doorway. "Wizeman has made us more fitting for our places as nightmaren leaders."
"Oh," managed Puffy in a small voice. Jackle could feel her eyes on his back. She stared, and he knew she was dying to see his face again. For a moment the only sound in the room was the faint crackling of the fire.
"Will you stop that?" he snapped, finally tiring of her gaze.
Puffy jumped. "Yes," she squeaked, before blushing and hiding behind her book.
Reala stalked over to the fire to stand before it, subconsciously shielding Jackle from the maren's eyes. "Where is my brother?"
"NiGHTS?" murmured Puffy, asking the obvious in her momentary state of loss.
"Yes, NiGHTS," retorted Reala. "Who did you think I meant, my brother Mortimer?"
Puffy was shoved into even further heights of shock by the fact that the Seeker General was actually displaying a sense of humor. That certainly wasn't normal. "I--I think he's in his room."
Reala nodded once and turned to head for the door. Some small part of his mind felt uncomfortable about leaving Jackle to Puffy's scrutiny, but it was too miniscule a feeling for him to be aware of more than a faint twinge. For an unknown reason he looked back, glancing at the demi-maren huddled before the fire, cloak held against him with a desperate grip. He looked almost frightened…
Turning, Reala went out.
NiGHTS didn't hear the commotion one floor down; the walls of Nightmare Castle were thick enough to keep any noise within the room it originated from. He was completely unprepared for the powerful knock that resounded through his bedroom. He knew who it was; his brother had a particular way of knocking. One two, hard. It was a habit the maren probably didn't even know he had.
However NiGHTS wasn't busying himself with pondering upon knocking habits; he was overjoyed to know that his brother was here. He hurried to the door, opening it quickly. "Reala!"
Reala gazed back at him, piercing blue eyes reflecting brightly in the light from NiGHTS' window and standing out against the darkness of the hallway beyond. He said nothing.
NiGHTS halted, for once unable to say anything. His brother was different.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as both studied the other; NiGHTS taking in his brother's changed form, and Reala watching for his brother's reaction. Finally NiGHTS smiled. "My, have you been working out!"
The uncomfortable silence was broken. Reala, however, continued searching NiGHTS' eyes as he spoke. "You could say that."
"Well, don't just stand there, come on in!" NiGHTS stepped back, holding the door wide. "I've been waiting all night for you, Reala! That was mean to pop out like that without warning me…"
"I didn't expect it," snapped Reala, as he moved to the nearest chair and made himself comfortable.
NiGHTS was a bit startled by his brother's show of temper, but kept this thought to himself. Plopping down carelessly on the floor, he rolled onto his belly and gazed up at Reala with the look of a child waiting to hear a story, legs kicked up lazily in the air. "So where were you? Spill already!"
"I was in Wizeman's chamber."
This brought an edge of seriousness to NiGHTS' face. He hurried to mask it. "Why?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Reala gestured at his body. "He was perfecting me."
NiGHTS was silent for a moment.
"Perfecting you?"
"That's what I said," replied Reala with a hint of annoyance. "What, you don't think I've been perfected?"
"Not really, no," murmured NiGHTS.
His brother did not answer, searching his violet eyes for a sign that he was joking. There was none there.
"What do you mean?"
"I liked you just the way you were, Reals. There was no need to try to make you better."
"NiGHTS, don't you get it?" Reala was defending himself now. "Now I truly look like a leader of the Nightmare forces!"
"You look like a demented walrus," replied NiGHTS. The joke was not meant to amuse.
"What?"
"Reala, you looked just fine the way you were before. There wasn't any reason for you to be changed."
"So say you." Reala gave his brother a look that was uncomfortably close to a sneer. "You never could appreciate the importance of appearances, NiGHTS."
"Maybe so, but then I was never called a demented walrus, either!" retorted NiGHTS.
"Oh? I suppose you only got the name 'Pansy' or 'Violet' instead?" returned Reala angrily.
"I---" NiGHTS stopped, unsure of what was happening. Was he actually arguing with Reala? "Reals, I didn't mean that to---"
"Don't call me that."
"Call you what?"
"Reals. Don't call me that."
"Don't call you Reals?" NiGHTS blinked, confused. "Reala, I've always called you that!"
"Well you won't now!" It was more of a command than a request. "I'm the leader of the nightmaren army, and you'll give me the respect I deserve!"
"Says who?"
"Me!" Reala was nearly shouting now.
"Well I---" NiGHTS cut himself off, staring at his brother in dismay. They were yelling at each other.
Reala took a breath, expression showing his struggle to control himself. He had never yelled at his brother like this before---never felt such anger. It was all wrong.
Reala did not like being wrong.
NiGHTS spoke before he could. "Reala, I'm sorry."
"I---" Reala gazed at him, mind running over their conversation; then he got up, moving to the door. "I'm not."
NiGHTS rolled over, staggering up onto his feet in frightened hurry. He was just in time to see his brother slam the door behind him.
NIGHTS sank back onto his knees, staring at the ground. What had he just done? He'd gone and yelled at Reala like they were enemies. What was wrong with them?
For some inexplicable reason, he felt as if his brother was gradually, slowly slipping away from him.