Author's note: I'm skipping my physics lab to write this stupid story. It's eating my life. O.o Well, this story started as a Mary Sue parody, but I'm afraid it's warped into something a bit different, though I'm not certain what. Don't worry, though, Tess will reappear soon enough. Well, on with the show!

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The servant girl led him down several long corridors and showed him into a bedroom. It had obviously belonged to a girl once, still containing a vanity and an ornate feminine wardrobe. The odd bed was more like a nest, being oblong and set into the floor. Erik sat on the chair beside the vanity and pulled off his boots, tossing them into the corner. It wasn't especially late, the sun had just barely dipped below the horizon, but he was exhausted. He glanced around for something else to sleep in and found nothing.

His eyes fell on a bag in the corner. It was the one he'd brought with him, that Tess had handed to him while they were still waiting for clearance to land on Eranae Prime's second moon. He walked over and picked it up. It contained the second change of clothing she'd purchased for him and a bottle of water. Spare and practical, like everything else associated with her.

Erik set the bag down when he heard a knock on the door and opened it to see the same servant girl with another robe. He took it and thanked her, closing the door and changing immediately. The new robe wasn't exactly silken, but it was a definite improvement. There were already mild sore patches developing under his arms and on his ribs from the other robe. He tossed the blue robe over the back of the chair and laid down on the nest-bed, burrowing under the covers. There was no pillow, but the edges of the mattress rose up around the perimeter. He pulled the blanket over his head to block out the waning light from the curtainless windows and it wasn't long before he was asleep.

His mother was saying something to him, but he couldn't decipher the angry words. Why did her voice sound so muddy? Oh, because his head is underwater. Why is his head underwater? Oh, because mother is holding him down. She is afraid of touching him though, isn't she? Of course she is, that's why it's Giovanni's hand on his back, not mother's. Father, let me up! I can't breath, can't you see I'm choking?

The water disappeared and Erik bolted upright in bed, beads of sweat dripping down his face. There was still a hand on his back, but it was not holding him down. Erik scrubbed at his eyes and sucked in several deep breaths in rapid succession, trying to still the rapid fluttering of his heart. Oro stood up and disappeared from sight, returning a minute later with a glass of water. He drank about half of it slowly, before Oro spoke to him.

"You said you never met Ohte and your mother never told you of him."

Erik squinted at Oro.

"I didn't. She didn't."

"You were talking in your sleep. You were begging your father to let you up."

Erik picked at the blanket.

"It was just a dream."

"People do not usually dream about strangers and call them father."

Erik chewed the inside of his lip, torn between hiding his checkered past and wanting someone else to know him for once and for all. He shook his head.

"I was not dreaming about Ohte."

"Then who?"

"A man named Giovanni. He was an aging architect I met by accident. He took me in and I lived with him briefly when I was younger. He taught me his trade."

"You were his apprentice then?"

"Yes."

"And he mistreated you?"

Erik seemed horrified at the suggestion.

"No! No, of course not! He was one of gentlest people I've ever encountered, he would never have… Well, he wouldn't have hurt me intentionally at any rate…"

"Then why do you have nightmares about him?"

Erik rubbed at his face with his palms.

"I don't know. I was dreaming about my mother, and she was trying to drown me. Then she became Giovanni."

"You did not get along well with your mother, then?"

Erik laughed at the gross understatement.

"You could say that. She hated me. She was afraid of me. I think she blamed me for destroying her life. Maybe she was right, that I should never have been born. She never left home after I was born. I ran away to free her—"

Erik's stream of self deprecation was cut off as he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, his head tucked under Oro's chin in the soft hollow of the old man's throat and Oro's hand wrapped around the back of his skull. Erik tensed up like a scared rabbit and tried to pull away but the unearthly strength of the Eranae held him in place.

"Do not take Ohte's crimes for your own, child. The weight will do you no good."

Erik fought the tears building behind his eyelids, and lost.

"Oh I don't need Ohte's crimes, I have plenty of my own; if you knew half of them, you'd throw me out of your home immediately!"

Oro fell silent at Erik's confession but did not release him. They sat in silence for long minutes while Erik grew increasingly uncomfortable in the alien feel of a close embrace and began to fight Oro's grasp in earnest. Oro finally released him and seemed about to cry himself, through exactly why he would, Erik did not know. There was only one who had ever shed tears on his behalf and those had solely been out of pity.

"The past cannot be undone, child, but the future has not been written. I do not know what dark paths your mother and father abandoned you to, but you are not bound to them. I will not punish you for the crimes of your past, whatever they may be, as long as you do not repeat them. Consider it my first gift to you as my grandson to start your life over with clean parchment."

He reached out to Erik as though to touch his face, but pulled his hand back at the sight of his grandson still shaking like a leaf in the wind. Oro sighed and shook his head in defeat and stood to leave.

"Do try, Erik. That's all I ask of you. I will do all I can to assure you a place in my family, if you desire it. I will not force you to stay if you do not wish to remain in my home, but my doors will always be open to you."

With that, Oro left and closed the door behind him, leaving Erik to swallow back the bile in his throat in the dim moonlight falling through the window. He wrapped his arms around himself trying to calm down and even out his rapid panicked breathing. The last thing he needed was another panic attack. Why did he get so upset at a simple paternal embrace? He'd been madly searching for a real family since he was a young child, now that he had one, why couldn't he deal with it? Maybe he really was as mad as so many had accused him of being.

Erik began to shiver slightly, the sweat on his skin turning cold in the dry air of his bedroom. He laid back down and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He lay there in the dark for what seemed like an age, but no matter how exhausted he was, he could not sleep. He began to sing quietly to himself, desperately trying to soothe himself. It was the same folk song he'd been singing when Tess had interrupted him only a couple days before. He wished he could remember where he'd learned it.

The door suddenly opened again, and Erik leapt to his feet when Endo's face appeared.

"Was that you singing just now, boy? Tell me!"

Erik looked the older man up and down, trying to discern his intentions.

"What does it matter to you if I were?"

Endo glanced behind over his shoulder as if he were expecting to be caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He narrowed his eyes at Erik.

"Do you have any clue how rare and dangerous a voice like yours is? The voice of the Winds, it is called. Maybe once in every ten generations is one born with the gift… Wait here, do not leave this room—"

Endo disappeared and Erik walked to the door to catch a glimpse of Oro's door closing behind Endo. They both emerged a moment later. Oro yawned loudly, clearly having been woken by his son.

"Alright, you've dragged me from my bed, Endo, and disturbed your nephew, what is the problem?"

Endo stared shrewdly at Erik.

"Sing."

Erik sneered at him.

"Why should I? Do you think me a trained ape to perform on command?"

"Father, I tell you, he has the Voice. I heard him earlier. It lured me from my bed like sorcery!"

"Endo, you were dreaming. Go back to bed."

"Father—"

"Endo, enough of this nonsense! I don't care if he can move mountains with his voice, it is late and I am a tired old man. We'll discuss this in the morning."

Endo huffed at his father's rebuke and trudged back down the hall. Oro waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Erik.

"Is Endo lying to me, Erik? Were you singing?"

"He was not lying."

"Would you be willing sing again, for me, please? I will not be angry with you no matter what sort of voice you have."

Erik hesitated a moment too long in his indecision and Oro sighed.

"Perhaps this would be better approached in the light of morning. You've had a difficult evening. It will be dawn in a few hours anyway. I think you should sleep in though. I will instruct the servants not wake you for breakfast. You may come to the gardens when you are ready and I will have them bring you something. We can discuss this then. Again, I apologize for Endo. He really has not been himself lately. I do not know what threat he sees in you, but you must have patience with him. He will come around, eventually, if for no other reason than to get back into his wife's good graces. She is more cross with him than I am, I think. Good night, Erik."