The Gift
Episode 2: The Tux Makes the Man
By Sulia Serafine
This is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE fic. This is the sequel series to It Could Be Worse, which will end with season 4. NOTE You can read it if you have not read ICBW. It's possible. You won't get the foreshadowing and the cameos, but you will, eventually. I'd explain them. Credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.
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I had money now. Well, I had Yvenne's money, but close enough. Because of my unlikely new companion, my financial troubles were nonexistent. Whatever she earned, she invested. I don't know how a girl who grew up in the slums of Carthak gets into this sort of thing. All that's certain is her frightening devotion to it.
She often blew up at me like a firecracker whenever I interrupted her stock watch on the holoscreen. Even though Yvenne's apartment had been burned down and Donnelly was going to kill her if she ever came back, the feisty sprite was always looking for new opportunities.
It had been two weeks since I met Yvenne and since we left Carthak. After a day's acquaintance, we still didn't trust each other. That was to be expected. We were always jerking away from each other's touch and throwing suspicious glances. But we also joked about our nerves.
"What? Think I'll rape you in your sleep?"
Amazingly, she said this, not me.
And then she would laugh and make a funny face at me, then return to whatever she had been doing. I always stood there, a little bemused, for a few minutes after she surprised me with another personality quirk.
I was generally clueless of the ways of women. Since I'd entered the 'brave new world' that existed outside of Styx, I focused on the necessary things in life that would get me to where I needed to go. Contact with women consisted of deceiving them with my card tricks. I'd never had the time to befriend one, or even flirt. I knew what flirting was when I saw it, but I never took part in it.
Interaction with the opposite sex in Styx had been next to none. They were in one building; we boys were in another. Once a year, boys and girls attended an assembly at which the head doctor spoke. Even then, we could only gaze at them from across the broad isle that was set between us.
An older boy in my ward was known to sneak out at night. His vision was extraordinary. Not only could he go into bright light without sunglasses, having no problems at all, but he could also see perfectly in the dark. He used this skill to go to the girl's building and visit a female patient that he liked. When he came back, he was usually very giddy and extremely happy. The other boys pelted him with questions. I lied awake in my bed, listening but not curious enough to go down and be as awe-inspired as my comrades.
Yvenne couldn't understand my uneasiness. Of course she couldn't. She'd been raised in a society where talking to a person of the opposite sex was considered a normal and expected action. Thus, she quickly wrote me off as shy and insecure. I let her believe what she wanted. As long as it didn't interfere with my search, I would be as shy as she imagined me.
Days passed quickly in Tortall. The city was bright and friendly—the complete opposite of Carthak. Though running freely through the park with its holographic statues of knights and princesses seemed like a good, carefree option, I knew I had to concentrate on what I had come to do.
I investigated strange births that occurred seventeen years ago. It didn't surprise me to see a name or two of a patient at Styx. During that time, strange birth occurrences had been at an all-time high. The name Winston was found once or twice, but it was irrelevant since the births were recorded as girls. The thought of a long-lost sister didn't appeal to me at all. In the few books I had ever been allowed to touch, siblings liked to fight and when they were civil toward each other, they were distant the other majority of the time.
It crossed my mind that they may have recorded me as a girl, but upon contacting these households, I discovered that the girls did exist and that the parents were not the ones I was looking for.
I came home every day to a beaten up convertible. Yvenne had forced me to push that thing out of a junkyard because she said it was still usable. The multiple rust holes were appealing, she'd joked. It was a miracle the engine still worked.
We often cruised rich neighborhoods to find out who was throwing a wild party. The idea was to lie and tell the drunken host we were friends of a friend. Hosts never refused us. So we went upstairs and used their showers, 'borrowed' their clothes, and so on, so forth. I once found the perfect tuxedo in my exact measurements, but Yvenne asked me what my purpose would be in taking it. (Her exact words happened to be: "What, are you going to the Ritz to hobnob with an heiress wearing a fortune in diamonds? Put it back, Jeeves.")
When we had no party to attend, we ended up at the cheapest, grimiest motel room with a single bed. We took turns sleeping in the bed. Sometimes, I slept in the backseat of the car because slumbering in the same room as a female still irked me and I was a light sleeper by nature. I woke up at the slightest noise or movement.
"Hey. Where do you go during the day?"
"Hustling?" I suggested.
"How come I never see the money you get from it?"
"How come I never see yours, period?"
We were sitting in the front seat of the car, eating burgers and fries. I was sitting behind the driver's wheel, and though I had a license, it was a fake one.
I had gone to one of five hospitals in the city earlier in the day to break into their offices and go through their files. My work was unsuccessful. At this rate, I might as well go back to Styx and demand the truth. I bet you think the obvious choice would be to go to that infernal hospital and break into their records.
The whole idea centered about returning to Styx. And since I had been twelve, I thought that once I even went within a mile of Styx, the Gray Men would capture me and place me in chains so I could never escape again.
"Vinny? Come on, man, tell me the truth."
"I am," I insisted. A knot twisted in my stomach. All at once, I knew something fairly bad was about to happen to me, but I didn't want to move. She wouldn't understand if I suddenly jumped out of the car. It hurt my head to ignore my precious instincts, but I refused to go anywhere.
Yvenne crawled over the car's selector lever and pinned me. I tried to push her off, but she was stronger than she looked. My food was shoved away and I heard myself protesting as she reached a hand down my pants and boxers. A furious red color blazed across my hot cheeks as she reached deeper.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
She yanked her hand out, holding my bag of money. Then she got off me and turned her back to me. The feisty sprite loosened the drawstring and put a hand inside to examine the nobles and coppers that I possessed.
"Give that back!"
She turned her back to me. I leaned over this time, rather uncomfortably since I was larger than her, and tried to grab my money back. She yelled at me and slapped blindly, though I knocked her hands aside without trouble.
"Let's see," she said when I finally settled back into my seat and cursed like a sailor. "I see the change from the burgers and fries. I see your paychecks from Moe's Burger Palace from when you did that one stint a week ago. But I don't see any ten or twenty noble bills. And that's what you usually get hustling." She gave me that sideways glance again. "So, what do you do? Do you spend the money right away on drugs or something? Or do you not hustle?"
"Give it back," I demanded, furious.
She tossed the bag at me. Yvenne sat with her arms crossed as if she had been the one whose space had been violated. I cursed at her again, but it didn't faze her.
"All you have to do is tell me. I'm curious, Vinny."
"I walk around, okay? I think about stuff. Have you ever just took the time to think about stuff, Yvenne, or are you too busy being a psycho?" I spat. How could I have wound up with a companion like this? What on earth possessed me to take her up on her offer? I should have stayed in Carthak!
She pointed past my shoulder. "Get out."
I realized my mistake at once and would have screamed in frustration if I hadn't been more worried about actually being thrown out of the car. "No, wait, I didn't mean it! I was just—"
"Get out! Right now!" she commanded in a deep voice.
Trying to calm her at that point would have been futile. I balled up my fists. So this was what happened when I ignored my intuition. It serves me right. I should have gotten out of the car while I could. Then she would have apologized to me and not have pushed the subject further. Now I was being thrown out and there was no guarantee I would be invited back.
I grabbed a backpack and another rucksack from the backseat and got out. I slammed the door as hard as I could—not that it would do any good—and started walking away. Looking back would not happen. I had my pride. No way in hell was she going to see me look remorseful. She was the one invading my privacy and my space. I did nothing wrong. My reaction would be the same reaction of any man. She was the one at fault!
An hour's walking found me at the Golden Gala Casino & Hotel. If I was on my own again, I had to obtain more money than I currently held if I was to survive.
I stealthily made my way to a bathroom within the Casino and locked the door. Sophisticated men would be glued to their Blackjack tables and their slot machines. They would be rolling dice with beautiful broads at their sides. It wasn't likely one would come along in the next five minutes, needing to relieve himself.
I reached into my backpack and gently extracted a cylindrical bag. It contained the anti-wrinkle tuxedo that I had found with my perfect measurements. Yvenne may have told me to put it back, but I never did. Luckily for me, the fabric was versatile as well as elegant. I could roll it up and put it in the bag intended for its convenient portability. My clothes were stripped from me and replaced by the clothing that smelled like money.
My name that night would be Pierce Tamorand. I changed my pager ID. Inserting the information into my pager ID via memory chip took mere seconds. And then I had transformed from a scruffy young conman into the heir of the Tamorand family fortune.
"I attend Fulcher University, but I'm thinking about upsetting my old man to be a Shang in the East Yamanis," I practiced saying while straightening my sleeves and shining my cufflinks. Then I made gestures with my hands, as I imagined wealthy, carefree men of society would do when they spoke richly of their privileged lives.
The metamorphosis was complete. I wet my hair and tried to style it straighter than the unruly curls I was given by nature.
On the inside of the door to an unlocked janitorial closet, someone had carelessly left the keys. I placed my belongings within this place, locked it up, and took the keys with me. I ran my fingers one last time through my hair and started walking toward the main room.
Dragon Roulette looked appealing. The red and black scales, the spinning, and the little black dragon's egg rolling around, deciding whom would win and lose. I headed to the roulette table, concentrating on my appearance. Coming off as mysterious and stunning was not too difficult at all. I thanked my natural grace that I could strut so well; I also thanked my genes that I also had the ability to look convincingly older than I truly was.
This did not stop a casino employee with an earpiece and a tiny microphone near his mouth to gently tap me on the shoulder and ask for identification. I smiled warmly at him to assure him of my confidence. Afterwards, I proceeded to show him my pager.
"Thank you, Mr. Tamorand. Happy Belated Birthday, by the way," he said to me, winking his left eye.
"Thank you," I replied with a courteous nod of the head. According to the ID, I had just turned 21 a few days ago. Any age older than that couldn't be pulled off.
At Dragon Roulette, I won a significant amount. Then I went to other tables and games and purposely lost just a bit. The casino employees would investigate me if I never lost. I knew how things worked around here. It was the same everywhere else, too. Before the afternoon was over though, I significantly augmented my savings by three hundred fifty percent.
I peered over at the desk a few feet away. Eight children around perhaps ten or eleven years of age were gathered around the desk, accompanied by an adult who did not act like their father, but rather… a teacher, I suppose. He spoke to them and they formed a line.
The scene reminded me of Styx. Differences included their lack of slate gray uniforms and absolute desolation. These children joked and played while they waited in line, something that I was never allowed. Joking was something my childhood companions and I did in recess, which was recess only in name. The younger children played on swings, but we with a greater developed arrogance from a full ten years in Styx preferred to sit on benches and act adult.
"Excuse me, Miss?" I tapped the arm of a passing waitress serving champagne.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Why are children in a casino?" I asked, pointing to the main desk.
She chuckled. "Those children are here every year at the hotel. They're on vacation from Copper City with their Assistant Headmaster because their parents are too busy to take them home for holiday. They go to theme parks and vacation sites in this city every year, and stay at this hotel because the Assistant Headmaster likes to play the Centaur slots while the children sleep."
"And how do you know all this?"
"I talk to the kids. They're wonderful, really they are… and very intelligent. Such a shame their parents don't take notice." She offered me a glass of champagne, which I took and sipped. I tipped her generously, which caused her to curtsy while balancing her tray.
When I was done with my gambling and exercising my gift, I sat down at a lobby table to strategize my next move. This hotel was expensive, and I was still a very thrifty and frugal man. Apologizing to Yvenne was out of the question. Finding her would be nearly impossible, anyway. Tortall was a large metropolis—even larger than Carthak. I'd been in this city a few times before and was always very lost when I wandered about.
My thoughtful planning was interrupted when I caught the eye of a child standing on the other side of the table. The hand that had been stroking my chin automatically gestured for him to sit. A brief cold feeling surged through my gut, and I knew that this would be significant. The child was one of Copper children on vacation. Yes, I suppose he looked intelligent enough.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
The young boy had glossy black hair, thin straight bangs arranged perfectly across his forehead. His round face and his skinny arms were all I could see over the tall table since he rested his chin on his knuckles. "I saw you."
My eyes narrowed. He'd seen me doing something I don't normally do if I can help it, my mind told me. But I asked anyway. "Saw me what?"
"Cheat. At that card table over there," he shrugged in the same way he might to someone asking him where he'd last seen the hall pass.
"Oh?" I smiled. Yes, I had cheated. My instincts had told me I was going to lose otherwise, and I had bet a large amount at that particular table. Sleight of hand was another skill of mine (though I rarely used it), and I know that the security cameras didn't catch it. So how could this little whippersnapper see it?
The boy frowned. "Why did you cheat? It's not fair, you know."
"I didn't cheat. Don't you tell anyone that," I warned in a firm, chastising tone.
He sighed. "Fine. But I want you to teach me how to do that."
The suggestion made me laugh. I covered my mouth with my hand. "Kid, I don't teach anyone anything. You'll have to teach yourself. You could do it, if you had truly seen me… which you didn't," I added hastily. "You saw nothing."
The boy frowned again and walked away. He glanced over his shoulder at me once, obviously disappointed, but I waved him away. Little boys could be humorous and silly. Thank heaven I never was.
Later, I stood outside the casino beside the street, watching men and women come and go. If I hailed a taxi, where would I go? A particular hover taxi parked and touched down on the street beside me. The driver leaned out.
"Hey, Mister. Need a place to go? I know some good gentlemen's clubs, where you can meet a nice young lady, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I grimaced.
"No, thank you." I walked to the other side of the steps. The taxi driver took another well dressed man and left.
I turned my back to the street. Another car pulled up behind me, a ground vehicle I could tell by the noise, and I prayed it was not another taxi driver trying to find a fare. "Go away," I said loudly. "I don't want to go to strip clubs. I'm not a hopeless middle-aged fart that's never going to get laid without paying."
"Well, I beg to differ. That could really be you in two decades, Vince."
"Yvenne?" I turned around and spotted Yvenne sitting in the convertible with the top down. I descended the stone steps and met her at the curb. I was torn between delight and the pointless anger I had harbored earlier. "What are you doing here? I thought you threw me out."
She drummed her fingers on the wheel. The smile on her face was playful and bright. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for a guy with a cummerbund and a bow tie. Get in, already. I promise not to ask any more questions until you let me into your boxers of your own free will."
I grinned and started straightening my bow tie while looking at the rearview mirror. "You just want me for the money I won."
"Not true!" she protested, giggling at the same time.
I didn't know how she could come back so quickly. How could someone just throw that whole incident over her shoulder when she'd been even angrier than me? I was afraid I'd never understand women.
Or maybe it wasn't a 'woman' thing. Maybe it had to do with friendship…because I never really understood that either. I never really had it before now. And suddenly this haphazard, last minute companionship from Carthak had also metamorphosed. We weren't just traveling companions. We were friends.
"Oh yes. Well, you can thank Mr. Pierce Tamorand because I believe I've made enough for us to leave this city."
"Pierce? Ooh. I like that. Would Mr. Tamorand like to hop in then? All I have to do is get some gas and we can be off." She leaned over and opened the door. I got into the car and threw my bags into the backseat again. We pulled away from the curb. She tucked her hair behind her ear as the other loose strands flew around in the wind. "Are you sure you want to leave Tortall, though? Are you done doing whatever it is you do during the day?"
I leaned back against the headrest, tilting my face upwards toward the darkening sky. You couldn't see the stars because of city lights. You couldn't see them in Styx either. I guess I haven't come that far after all. I might as well go back and try to break into their records. But could I do it and escape?
"Yeah. There's only one place I can go, but I can't really… Nah. We'll drive around a bit more, and maybe I'll go there later."
"Is this place in Tortall?" she asked, sparing me a concerned look. "Come on, 'Pierce.' Tell me. I'd drive us there, if you wanted."
I took off my jacket. Next, I put on my seatbelt. "No. I don't want to pull you away from our travel plan—whatever it is."
She took one hand off the steering wheel and reached for my hand. I shied away from her touch, but Yvenne pinned my hand down against the parking break with hers and gave it a squeeze. I sunk down uncertainly in my seat. Getting accustomed to personal contact was going to take a while.
"I'll go wherever you go. As long as I have a phone, I can talk with stockbrokers and bankers. And as long as there's a place where you can do your hustling thing, that's good, too." She shrugged. "Hey, maybe you could find another casino and cheat your way to wealth."
I snorted. "I only cheated once. The rest of the money was won by skill."
"And how much did you make with an honest guess?"
I told her.
She stopped the car. We were just pulling into the gas station. I cleared my throat right before someone behind us honked his horn. Yvenne pulled all the way in and parked besides a gasoline pump. "No way. You're lying. No one's that good!"
"There's more to it, but I'll tell you some other time."
"No! You tell me now," she insisted.
I got out of the car and loosened my bow tie. Then I rolled up my sleeves, pulled back the gasoline tank flap and unscrewed the cap. She glared at me, but I continued performing my task. "Oh, no. I'm not telling you a word. Your hand isn't down my boxers yet."
"We'll see about that."
I turned my face downward so she wouldn't see my blush. Sheesh! What a mouth! I guess I'm glad she's not like other women whom I've observed at a distance. They couldn't possibly be this entertaining.
I changed my clothing at the gas station to avoid staining the wonderful tuxedo. We got onto the highway before Yvenne asked where I wanted to go. I replied the nearest city. Styx was a while away, but I wasn't going there. I didn't yet have the nerve to go back there.
"Hey, how did you find me?" I asked.
"First, I asked myself what type of losers you fool. Then, I asked myself where those losers try to get an honest game, since you obviously don't give them one."
Two miles out from the city, the car started making a funny beeping sound. We looked for a little indicator light on the dashboard and found that none of the indicator lights worked. We pulled over to the side of the road and popped the hood. Neither of us knew much about cars, and we were very afraid of what the problem might be.
"Well isn't this just peachy," Yvenne muttered.
"Did you check the oil before you left?"
"Not yet. Where is that little rod thingy, Vinny?"
I looked up. "What? I didn't say anything."
She stared at me. "Didn't you just ask me if I checked the oil?"
"No."
We both frowned. Almost immediately, a pile of clothing and trash in the backseat began to move. The little boy I had spoken to at the casino threw the clothing and trash from him. He clambered out of the car. Then, he walked over to where we were and started to check the oil. Yvenne and I gaped, dumbfounded.
I should have been able to predict that a little boy would hide in our car. But somehow, in the midst of all these happy reuniting feelings with Yvenne, it escaped me. I wondered if being preoccupied with friendship and these other goody feelings actually dampened my attention span for my highly sensitized instincts.
The boy snorted. "It figures. You should check your oil regularly. And get that indicator light fixed." While we stood rooted to the ground, speechless like a pair of dumb idiots, he went to the driver's side, found the lever to pop the trunk, and then retrieved a plastic oil container. He nudged us aside and started to change the oil, kicking a small bin below to catch the hot oil as it dropped down. "Excuse me."
We stepped back.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. All that went through my mind was that we had to go back into the city. We had to take the boy back before someone accused us of kidnapping him. That was the last thing I needed! Jail? Oh no. I needed to dodge the authorities at all costs.
"Don't worry about it," the boy said. After a few minutes, he was finished. He grabbed a rag from within the car and started wiping his hands off. He grinned. "I knew from the look of you that you were in the middle of an adventure! Just like my dad. He ran away once and hid in a car. That's how he met his friends and my mum."
Yvenne scrunched up her face. "Can someone please explain to me what is going on here?" She crouched down. "What's your name little boy? We have to get you home."
The boy pouted. He reminded me of some of my other childhood 'friends.' He couldn't have been much younger than I was when I ran away from Styx. Of course, when I ran away, I didn't do it for adventure.
The idea of adventure was silly and foolish. I didn't like this boy's train of thought, but after all, he was just a boy. I studied him like I would a science diagram. That was the head full of crazy notions. That was the little skinny body that would one day fill out and impress. And those were the shoes that had probably tracked dirt across the back seat.
"My name is Faleron Jasson. And you can't take me home because I live all the way in the city of Copper."
"You're here with your classmates. Right? Vacation in Tortall?" I asked him. There was something else I was missing, a little itch in the back of my mind indicated, but once again it escaped my comprehension. A lot of things were doing that today.
He nodded. "Just like I imagined! You know everything, like an adventurer ought to!"
"I'm not an adventurer. Sheesh. How old are you?"
He looked like he wanted to jump up and down in joy. Ah, little boys. How weird and innocent they can be…"Almost eleven. I'm very smart! You need me! I'm really good with cars and computers! I helped you with your car!"
Yvenne snorted. "I could've figured it out sooner or later."
I put down the hood and decided to take my turn driving. "We'll get him back to Golden Gala right now."
"You can't take me back!"
Yvenne grabbed Faleron by the back of his shirt and forcefully 'guided' him to the backseat of the car. "Oh yes we can."
"I'll tell them you molested me if you do!"
Both Yvenne and I froze where we were. We exchanged incredulous stares. I motioned for her to continue. So, she shoved him into the backseat. Then she hopped over the passenger door and plopped down onto her own seat beside me.
"He's got no proof."
"I don't need proof. The media takes one look at the tear-stained face of a ten year old and they won't let the story go for months. In the meantime, because of my age and my family, the DJPF will be swayed to believe whatever I tell them!" the boy cried indignantly.
I had no idea who this kid really was, but whoever he was, he was good.
My companion groaned beside me. She punched the dashboard and turned around in her seat. She gave our young stowaway the evil eye. "And just who is your family?"
"Don't you recognize it from my name? I'm the grandson of the re-elected Vice President of Mithros!" The boy folded his arms across his chest and showed us a smug, confident look. Smug. Damn it, no one was supposed to look smug in this car except me! …And maybe Yvenne if she's embarrassed me…
Yvenne slapped her seat and shook her finger at me. "Well, he's smart for his age, I'll give him that. What do you want to do with him?"
"I say we tie him up and throw him in the nearest river," I replied.
"Cement around the ankles?" She didn't miss a beat.
"Only if we can find some."
"And if we don't?"
"Oh, there are plenty of rocks around here."
"Are you sure? What about witnesses in fishing boats?"
"I have the money to bribe."
"And what makes you think they'll take it?"
"You can be a convincing femme fatale, can't you?"
She grinned. "The way you think turns me on sometimes."
"Oh, stop it. You're making me blush. And there is a child present. Shame on you."
Faleron glared at both of us. At least he was smart enough to know we were being sarcastic. I shook my head and turned the ignition. Yvenne regarded the kid with all the friendliness of a boot camp drill sergeant. She pointed to a bag of sandwiches beside Faleron. He handed her the bag and she started eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"So, kid. What do we got to do to keep you quiet?" she asked in between bites.
He beamed up at her. "Just take me along for the ride. Anything to escape the vacation from hell…"
"You really are some kind of smart-aleck whiz kid, huh? Thinking of all of this and pulling it off?" She finished the sandwich in record-breaking time.
"You bet! My I.Q. tests told me I was way up there, and my teachers make sure I study all the time and watch the news, too!" He paused and tilted his head. "So, who are you guys?"
"I'm from Carthak trying to find a new life to settle into. Name's Yvenne Noble. You call me anything else and you're toast. This here is Vinny Winston, our mystery man. No one calls him Vince except me."
"Who said you could do that?" I snorted.
"I said I could do that," she retorted. I rolled my eyes. Then she turned around in her seat and started tickling me in the side. With all my self-taught control, I couldn't help it. I started laughing.
"Stop that! I'm driving!"
"You two are funny. I think we'll have a great adventure!" Faleron piped up.
The kid was an unexpected turn of events. But he actually knew how to take care of the car better than we did. He knew more about the events in the news than we did. He had a better school education than we did. He even had the mentality of an ambitious young man when he wasn't going on and on about adventure.
And considering the fact that we were supposed to be the adults, that was a little pathetic.
At this rate, I should put up advertisements on billboards. 'Vinny Winston is now looking for sidekicks! Please dial 1-800-YUFREAK!' And I could hold auditions to see who was going to bother me the most and then choose that person. Of course, at the top of that list was currently an eleven year-old boy running away from school and an ex-bookie who liked to be moody and throw me out of cars after invading the off-limits pants area.
I'm very protective of my pants.
~~
Author:
And once again, another short episode brought to you by Yours Truly! I'm not used to short episodes. I'm really not. This is short for me. Usually, I'm doing something like 20,000 + words in ICBW. Go figure.
It came to my attention that I'm spinning out of control, away from the original writings of Miss Pierce (Yes, I altered her name and let Vinny use it…). By fanfiction is almost just 'fiction'. So from now on, I'll try very hard to incorporate more original Tortall elements. I made roulette into Dragon roulette. That was an odd one, but I suppose it's better than nothing, eh?
Yes, Faleron is the son of Roald and Lalasa. That was an easy one. I can't tell you why they named him after Faleron King. You're just going to have to wait and find out. That's what foreshadowing is. Please review!