Avari, wind seer: Thank you! And since I'm not exactly sure on how you took it, I want you to know that was I wasn't be sarcastic or anything about the "finder of typos" thing; I really do appreciate you pointing these out. (This is probably overkill, but I'd rather be too polite than accidentally rude.)
TemplarofNi: Ah, the plotbunnies. Sorry, but don't think it's happening.
Alexditto: Sorry, but you're off by two. As for the phrase, the "younger Adept's need to steel himself", as a verb, the word "steel" means something around the lines of "to strengthen/make hard". Ivan was nervous so he had to harden his will.
Also, Adrian is good. I'm sorry if I wasn't too clear about that.
Freek: Well, the memory crystals have a double purpose: the pair of senators need a source of info and there are a few scenes from KPP's past that I just have to include somehow.
End of Response Section
My little fic is a year old today. Is it weird that I'm so proud? It's kind of strange to think thatI met some of you a year and twenty chapters ago. Thanks for sticking around.
Anyway, sorry for the long wait. I was busy learning some things in October such as: 1) October hates me, 2) putting streamers on a railing is a bad idea and 3) the average person has about six pounds of skin.
On a less random note, it looks like I'm not going to be able to update for possibly the rest of November thanks to NaNoWriMo. Taking the time I needed to finish this chapter up might have set me back a ways on my word count.
Disclaimer: Rallalon does not own Golden Sun or any of its characters, items or locations. Nor does she own nodding, pale-ness, indexes, gloves, boots, mukluks, running shoes, tea or peripheral vision.
:Begin!:
"And why should I believe you?" Picard asked. What the other Mercury Adept was saying was ridiculous!
"Because there's an Adept among us who can tell if I am lying," Alex countered. "Sheba, am I?" He offered his hand.
Picard watched the Jupiter Adept place her hand atop of his, weakly sending out her senses through the physical contact. "Xander has spoken with you. He believes that is what Picard must do." She shook Sheena's head apologetically and turned to the Lemurian, removing her hand. "I'm sorry, Picard, but that's all I can determine." Her face looked pale and her breathing was heavy; the Lighthouse was taking its toll on her.
"You should sit down, Sheba," he told her gently before directing his question at Alex in a very different tone. "And has he said why I must do this?"
Alex looked away, at the sphere of Psynergy. "He? It cannot be expressed in words. It? wants to?" Alex waved his hand slightly, searching for the proper term. "It wants to test you."
Picard looked to Sheba. She nodded, still able to tell a spoken truth from a lie without direct contact: Alex believed what he was saying.
Now it was May's and Mia's turn to ask questions of him. "Why hasn't he returned yet? If he can talk to you? Why hasn't he returned?"
Once again, Alex looked to the sphere. "It took Xander because?" His face twisted into a glower as he continued, "because he can be trusted. Once he fulfills his purpose, he'll be released."
"And what is that purpose?" The combination of Gary's interrogation skills and Garet's great dislike of the Mercury Adept might become rather effective, Picard realized. If Gary didn't go insane first, that was. He seemed to be using this opportunity to deny the fact that Garet had come to take up residence inside of him.
Another glance. "To serve as a communication link."
"Between what? What's the 'it' you keep referring to?" Gary demanded.
"The Lighthouse. Between the Lemurian and the Lighthouse of course," Alex stated, as if this should all be painfully obvious.
"And if I chose not to do what you ask?" Picard asked, not believing a word of it despite Sheba's nod. Just because Alex believed it didn't make it true.
The elevators on both sides of the Lighthouse dropped simultaneously. "Then we don't leave. Then Xander doesn't come back."
:elsewhere:
Picking at random was by no means the best way to select the crystal that held the right information. Unfortunately for Adrian Murray, that was the only way he had.
"Why couldn't they just be books?" He muttered to himself and the caline currently sitting on his foot. "Carefully numbered and dated books? With an index?" But perhaps there was an order to this, one that he simply had to find. Knowing just one memory from one crystal wasn't going to help him much in that case.
"Here I go. . ." he whispered to the animal, his hand tentatively out-stretched. "I'm going to pick one . . ." he continued, his gaze going back between the shelf and the caline as if the creature would give him some sort of advice.
"This one?"
No reaction.
"How about. . . this one?"
No reaction.
Adrian could fully admit to himself that he was stalling; experiencing something from inside another's body was frightening!
"This?"
The caline looked up at him and blinked.
Taking a deep, almost-steadying breath ?
? Picard studied his . . . guest over the rim of his teacup. Even now, the other's looks set him apart, the remainder of his gray hair tinged a yellow-white instead of silver-blue. Hard eyes scrutinized Picard behind wooden-framed glasses. Lord Conservato clearly waited for him to make the first move as the pair sipped the hot liquid quietly in otherwise complete silence. Picard's new apartments had never felt so uncomforting.
Ten minutes pervious, the older man had shown up at his door, greeting him with a nod and a "Piers". Picard had blinked, nodded, said "Conservato" and invited the man in before he had fully comprehended the situation. Once he did get somewhat of an idea of what he was getting himself into, he invited the other to "Please, sit down" and brought out the tea in record time thanks to Ember.
And so, here they were, Picard fighting the urge to fidget and Conservato acting as if he had all the time in the world. Without his headdress, he felt almost naked, not the best feeling when dealing with this man.
"What brings you here this fine day?" Conversational tone, not too familiar, not rude. A fair start so far. It also put the pressure on Conservato to say something.
"A need to speak with you," he answered. "You know where I stood when King Hydros ? may he be reborn into happiness ? proclaimed you his heir."
"I do," Picard agreed stiffly.
"You were not ready. You were bold and welcomed not only the benefits of change, but the risks of it, with open arms."
Picard was severely tempted to say "It worked out" in his defense, but realized that sounded fairly childish. He decided upon "And I have learned from that" instead.
"All of Lemuria had better hope so." Adrian wondered what the man was up to even as Picard did; was this Conservato trying to pull intimidation tactics on a king? "You may have been able to do whatever you wished in the past, but now . . ." Conservato paused for a sip of tea. "Now you are, whether any of us like or not, needed."
This time a childish comment escaped his lips. "And saving the world didn't make me needed?"
"Saving the world"?
"With four other people, am I correct?"
"Eight. Or twelve, depending."
"And you will have . . . associates again. But the Senate cannot and will not always be able, or willing, to stand by your side. You will be tasked with passing judgment and settling disputes, an area that belongs solely to the king."
"I know this," Picard said softly, controlling his tone and facial expression with great difficulty. The man attacked him and reminded him of his higher position in one breath; what was he aiming at?
"Are you ready for it?"
Picard gave him a level look. "Do you believe I am?"
Conservato took a very long, stretched out drink from his cup, obviously testing to see if Picard would squirm. Picard made sure the other man was disappointed, staying still in a calm, not tense, manner.
"I believe . . . that King Hydros ? may he be reborn into happiness ? might not have been altogether wrong."
That had to be the closest thing to praise Picard had ever heard Conservito mutter. He studied the other man for any sign of mockery in this comment. This was, after all, the man who had always been against him, who had gone so far as to support ? more than support ? his banishment. The mere thought of this man usually set him on edge; he was sure it went the other way as well. Surely Conservito didn't mean it and had some sinister twist behind it.
If there was, he didn't find it.
"King Hydros ? may he be reborn into happiness ? was a wise man," Picard replied, acknowledging neither possibility of insult or compliment in the other's words.
"At times." Picard gave a start at this, and Conservito continued, "As are we all."
"True." Emboldened by the way the conversation was going, Picard stretched out a metaphorical hand. The notion of working with, or even being advised by, Lord Conservito no longer seemed so appalling. "For instance, at this very moment I find that I am not aware of what should be a very obvious piece of information. Lord Conservito, what is your first name?"
Conservito gave him a long, hard look. His expression was unreadable, capable of becoming either smile or frown. "Alabaster."
The memory abruptly ended.
Startled and disoriented, Adrian hurriedly caught himself before he had gone so far as to fall on the floor, his hand gripping the wooden side of the bookcase. It was a very unnerving business peeking around in someone's memory; it was even worse when one went from sitting to standing with no transition.
But what of that sudden end? Had King Piers forgotten what had happened afterwards or had he decided not to include it? Either could be bad for his cause; if the information he sought wasn't there . . .
However, he had learned some things. 1) King Piers had saved the world a) with eight or twelve people b) before he had become king. Less importantly, 2) there had been a Conservito with a rock name; it went without saying that the implications didn't favor the man. The second was, as far as Adrian could tell, completely unrelated to what he wanted to know while the first gave him a frame of reference. So far, the crystals had shown him events from the beginning of King Piers' reign; he now knew the best bet would be before then.
The problem was, he had no way to determine when the memory took place before he was living in it. And once that happened, there was no getting out until it ended.
The one time I actually want to do something quickly . . .
:elsewhere:
Dr. Crade studied the beacon of Venus Lighthouse as he had studied the other. Alex had claimed Xander's consciousness was inside of it, but there didn't seem any other way to prove it, besides Alex's word. The scientist in him was fascinated with the predicament as he wondered whether he'd be able to communicate with it as he had done with Mercury Lighthouse. But at the moment, he was having trouble just communicating with his companions. Once Alex had claimed that he was unable to Warp in his current separated state, his loss of the knowledge of the English language had rapidly become more and more obvious. How easy this would be if he could just reach his past self! It would be fascinating! Still, there were alternatives.
"Matthew? If I may borrow Echo?"
The expression on Matthew's face was amused and enthusiastic(an effect from the Lighthouse, Crade assumed), but not Matthew's. Echo replied on his own from his bouncing on the top of the boy's head, saying, "You can't borrow me."
"Forgive me. I meant to ask if you'd translate for me. I must be getting old and senile or some such thing."
Echo let out a sound that could possibly qualify as a laugh and hopped to Crade's shoulder moving more than necessary the whole way. Crade had a feeling the already . . . spirited Djinni was going to get much more . . . spirited.
"What could it hurt to try?" he heard Alex ask, translated by the Djinn. By his body movements and tone, the man's nerves were fraying.
"You try it," Menardi snapped back. "Let's see how eager you are to do it again."
"You weren't the one I was addressing. Besides," he added in an off-hand manner, "it already happened."
"You touched the sphere?" she incredulously asked. "Without any of us noticing?"
Slightly distracted by the presence of a large ball of Psynergy floating next to him, Crade tuned them out and peered closer, but not too close, at the yellow orb. Is building really sentient? What could it want to say to Picard?
He blinked. For a moment, he had thought he'd seen a . . . possibly a glove, or a picture of one flash across the orb. Is it trying to talk with me? And reading my thoughts? While he did think that the results at Mercury Lighthouse were mostly a fluke, there was a slim chance ?
The orb . . . nodded. At least that's what it looked like to him. The outer swirls kept going in the same direction, but he could've sworn the inner part had . . . well, nodded.
He cleared his throat and spoke, paying no mind to the other's conversations. "Hello. Can you hear me?"
"Pops, who're you talking . . . to . . ." Matthew trailed off as he too saw the orb "nod". "That's creepy . . ."
Even facing the orb, Crade could feel the eyes of the others directed his way.
"What just happened?" May(?) asked.
"Wait a sec," Ian replied.
Crade tried his best to ignore them and asked, "What do you want Picard to do?"
The picture was back.
"A glove?" Oliver asked.
"Looks like it," Jen(?) said.
"No." This time Crade was sure it was Felix talking; He knew Matthew well enough to tell the difference. "It's a gauntlet."
The orb "nodded" and brought up the image of a pair of boots.
"We're playing charades with an inanimate . . . with a building. Am I the only one finding this weird and . . . and weird?"
Gary was met with a chorus of "No" in several languages before a round of confused guessing began.
"A boot."
"A pair of boots?"
"Riding boots?"
"A pair of shoes."
"Mukluks."
"Mukluks?"
"Why not?"
"Running shoes?"
The orb "nodded" slightly.
"A gauntlet and running shoes?"
It shook no.
"Gauntlet."
Yes.
"Shoe."
No.
"Running shoe."
Yes.
"Running."
Yes.
"A running gauntlet?"
No.
"Running a gauntlet," Alex said coolly.
Yes.
"It's exactly as I told you," the Mercury Adept continued as the gazes of the others came to rest upon him. "The Lighthouse wants to test the Lemurian."
Gary, or Garet, asked the obvious question. "Why?"
"You think I know?" Alex's voice was taking on an exasperated edge. "All that Xander's told me, I've told you. If you want to leave or get him back, the Lemurian must do this."
"I shall do it."
"Andrew," Picard began before switching to Lemurian, "I will not risk you."
"And I would resist risking you, milord." Andrew's gaze flickered to Oliver for a moment. Realizing what he was implying, the man shook himself and stated, half-pleading, "The king of Lemuria cannot be placed in jeopardy."
"And I will not risk myself; I have a daughter to care for." Obviously, Oliver had caught Andrew looking in his direction. "That leaves us with Andrew, if you'd allow him, Picard. He's not a boy anymore."
"If your daughter were a woman, Oliver, would you risk her?"
Andrew stared at Picard, his expression a mixture of amazement, admiration, and . . . love. It was nearly enough to make Crade wish he had gotten married oh-so-long-ago.
"If you're discussing which of the three of you are to go, you should know it has to be Picard," Alex stated, making Crade realize he had been listening in on a private conversation with Echo's help. Alex glanced back at the orb for confirmation. "It asks for . . . 'the Mariner King'."
"What did you say?" Picard asked.
"'The Mariner King'. You've heard it before?" Something in Alex tone made the question more of a statement.
Picard looked at the orb as he nodded slightly. Finally, he said reluctantly, "I'll do it."
Satornil sighed and took off his belt.
:elsewhere:
He felt like tea. That was the only ? though probably not best ? way to describe it, but he felt like tea. Not like the bottled iced tea that a person buys from a vending machine at twice the proper amount, but like water that has had various herbs stirred into it.
Herbs that had come along with a fair amount of dirt.
It was an odd feeling, one that a human wouldn't normally even conceive of; what sane person would like of being tea? Come to think of it, perhaps he wasn't sane anymore: he did feel like tea. A psynergetic tea, in fact. And the plant part of the tea talked to him, told him what it wanted . . . He was going insane . . .
'Xander.'
'Alex?' he replied hopefully. It was hard to remain focused on anything, drifting about through all of this Venus Psynergy. He knew enough to know that Mars would be worse, but at the moment, he couldn't imagine it. Mercury Lighthouse had been such a wonderful rush in comparison: why couldn't he have appreciated it?
'The Lemurian has agreed. You'll be out soon.' This said, Alex began to pull away.
'Wait!' he yelled, panicked. He didn't want to be left again! 'Don't leave me alone! Anything but that! I want to Warp out of here! I'm not tea!'
Xander felt the man's confusion but was relieved to find curiosity and an amount of concern as well. He wouldn't be left to drift alone.
'What is it?' Alex asked him calmly, as if Xander hadn't just freaked out.
Too relieved and comforted by the knowledge that Alex would stay, Xander was beyond feeling embarrassed by his outburst. 'I want to know what's going on.'
'You realize I can only communicate with you when I look at the sphere.'
'You realize that there's such a thing as peripheral vision?'
There was a pause, and for a moment, Xander was positive he had offended the man, meaning Alex would leave, meaning he'd be alone for a long time, meaning he would go insane . . .
'Picard is getting ready to join you. Saturos, Crade and . . . Garet have fastened belts onto him to stop him from falling in.'
They shouldn't do that.
'They shouldn't do that,' Xander echoed.
'What for?'
'I . . . I don't know, okay? It just doesn't want them to do that.'
'Could you asked it why that is?'
'Tell them,' Xander ordered, surprising the other. He wanted to get out now. He didn't care that the Lighthouse was taking pains not to hurt him Psynergetically; it was doing enough damage mentally and emotionally. People were meant to be, well, people, not minds floating about without a physical body.
'They won't.'
'Why the hell not?!'
'Xander,' Alex answered, his voice taking on an edge that was more than slightly bitter, 'I'll ask you a simple question: who in their right mind would trust me if I were to tell them to do something that might kill, or at least harm, a person who I greatly dislike?'
'I would.'
:elsewhere:
Someone trusted him. Now that was an odd feeling, being trusted and being unwilling to betray. The bonds of Warping, he assumed and resumed his efforts to carry out what Xander had asked of him. "Take those off!" he ordered.
"Once again, Alex," Picard said, "why?"
"I don't know. It's what Xander says the Lighthouse wants."
Picard gave him a curious look, a blend of suspicion and pity, as he rechecked the loops of leather around his waist and chest, a makeshift harness. A few quick glances to the others showed a few of them with a similar expression. Suspicion, he understood, but why pity?
The answer hit him almost immediately: they thought he was insane. At the very least, they didn't think he had his wits about himself. And if that was truly the case, he would have an even harder time convincing them. Then there was how he had enough sense to know that trying to remove the belts physically would be a bad idea.
'Xander. I can't stop him.'
'I . . . I think that's alright. It'll just have to. . . pull harder?'
'Pull harder?' Alex repeated, watching Picard glance back over his shoulder at him or, more likely, the threesome holding onto the "rope" to his harness while raising his hand towards the sphere. Xander seemed slightly confused about what he was saying, but if that was actually it . . .
'I think so,' Xander said as Alex heard a gasp. 'Wait . . . Picard's coming.'
His attention brought back to watching what was going on in front of him, Alex blinked. The Lemurian had gone completely limp, held up only by the harness and his arm that was being pulled into the sphere. It wasn't long before the leather tethers of his harness were being pulled at, those holding refusing to let go. Alex had the strange feeling that Picard was experiencing what he had after trying to Warp through that barrier, only stronger now that the Lighthouse was lit.
The position the other man was in looked rather painful, Alex decided and then watched as the Lemurian was pulled in further, his feet no longer touching the Aerie floor, pulling the three holding onto the tethers with some difficulty.
One of the other Lemurians, the youngest, grabbed onto the tether Crade was holding, muttering something, presumably curses, in Lemurian. Wondering how the other was reacting, Alex turned to find that he had looked away, his face pale underneath the hand covering his eyes.
'Tell them to stop,' Xander said. 'They're only hurting him.'
Alex never had a chance to do so as the tethers were abruptly yanked out of their holders' hands. Picard's body fully dropped over the edge, out of reach, held up solely by his arm.
'I don't think they're doing it anymore.'
The Lemurian was slowly drawn in, his arm swallowed up first, followed by his shoulder, head, and the rest of his upper body. Finally, the last that could be seen of him was, somewhat ironically, his boots before even they disappeared into the sphere.
There was a moment of stunned silence from which Mia recovered first. At the very least, she was the one Alex noticed first.
Slap!
Alex recoiled, letting out a pained noise and resisting the urge to rub his cheek as Mia began furiously berating him. He tried not to pay too much attention to what she was saying as it included phrases along the lines of "Picard is dead because of you".
Hence it was a rather large surprise to both of them when he was rather forcefully stripped of the control over the body and sent to the back of his mind before the body decided to spontaneously hug a very angry Mia.
"Alex!" she shrieked at him.
"Xander!" was the gleeful reply.
Immediately, the hug was returned, presumably by May. 'I'm back!'
So much for having my own body, Alex thought loudly enough for Xander to pick up on it. The strange thing was that he couldn't tell if he meant it or not.
Once May released him, Xander moved himself about, ignoring what everyone else was saying. As he was in control, that meant Alex was too. 'I have fingers!' the boy told him gleefully, laughing aloud as he wiggled them in front of his eyes.
Alex refrained from commenting. Being trapped somewhere was bound to make an impact on a person. In this case, it meant Xander was downright giddy to have a body. It also meant Alex was wishing he wasn't sharing a body with him.
"Xander? What happened to Picard?" Felix asked.
Alex could feel the effort it took to restrain Xander's expression into one of seriousness. "I don't know."