Miles and miles away up in the freezing arctic, light shown from a
large set of buildings. Inside a dazzling white chamber, sounds of
screaming and anguish came forth. Outside looking through a glass barrier
into the room was a woman. Her eyes were fixed on the activity inside the
room while her hands were holding and stroking her monkey daemon's golden
fur.
What she was watching was horrendous. In the room there were four men and child. Three of the men were holding the child, a boy of a young age. Then the other man has holding the young boy's daemon. Holding another person's daemon wasn't allowed, it was simply forbidden, a great taboo. And here was a group of men actively pulling a child from his daemon.
The last scream issued from the child. Like the rush of wind the bind between human and daemon was broken. The daemon faded from the man's hands as the boy's body suddenly went limp and fell to the floor. The shock of the separation had killed both boy and daemon.
The lady was now at the door of the chamber. "Is he dead?" she looked around the room staring at each of the men individually. The way she had said 'dead' was sickly sweet and rang of the walls half expectant, half disappointed. "I'm...I'm...Let me check." replied one of the men nervously. "Ah, yes, he's dead," he finished as he turned the body of the boy to inspect it, "A bit of a waste-"
"A bit of a waste? Men, this boy wasn't supposed to die!" the woman cut in, "I will be back and when I return the process will be corrected so the children do not die. Is that clear?" She turned her back to the men and marched out of the chamber leaving the men with nervous expressions on their faces.
The engines of the zeppelin roared. As it lifted from the ground the lady looked back at the buildings in the ice and snow. "We should be back here fairly soon," she said to her daemon. She then went to take her seat next to the pilot and rest before they got to London.
"Will we be going to Oxford next?" asked her daemon. "I do believe so," she whispered back.
What she was watching was horrendous. In the room there were four men and child. Three of the men were holding the child, a boy of a young age. Then the other man has holding the young boy's daemon. Holding another person's daemon wasn't allowed, it was simply forbidden, a great taboo. And here was a group of men actively pulling a child from his daemon.
The last scream issued from the child. Like the rush of wind the bind between human and daemon was broken. The daemon faded from the man's hands as the boy's body suddenly went limp and fell to the floor. The shock of the separation had killed both boy and daemon.
The lady was now at the door of the chamber. "Is he dead?" she looked around the room staring at each of the men individually. The way she had said 'dead' was sickly sweet and rang of the walls half expectant, half disappointed. "I'm...I'm...Let me check." replied one of the men nervously. "Ah, yes, he's dead," he finished as he turned the body of the boy to inspect it, "A bit of a waste-"
"A bit of a waste? Men, this boy wasn't supposed to die!" the woman cut in, "I will be back and when I return the process will be corrected so the children do not die. Is that clear?" She turned her back to the men and marched out of the chamber leaving the men with nervous expressions on their faces.
The engines of the zeppelin roared. As it lifted from the ground the lady looked back at the buildings in the ice and snow. "We should be back here fairly soon," she said to her daemon. She then went to take her seat next to the pilot and rest before they got to London.
"Will we be going to Oxford next?" asked her daemon. "I do believe so," she whispered back.