Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm totally out of original disclaimers by now.
Look at me! Updating! Within two days! I'm so cool –grin- Keep reviewing, guys, it means a lot to me when people take the time to read this and comment on it.
Fireblade: Heh, angst. Gotta love it. I need to dig up an angsty one shot somewhere in the nether regions of my brain…hmmm. Lol, Treet shall get better soon.
Wishing: It is sort of sad. Actually, he will find out about it soon. It doesn't really matter that he can read auras, the fact is that he doesn't realize that there's something off with his because it's been off for as long as he's been at the Collegium
Tenshi: Heh, thanks
Rayn: Glad you like my story! Hope you keep reading/reviewing.
Anyway, chapter 25. A new plot segment starts and an interesting twist emerges which is not at all what it appears. Hint hint.
Everyone seems angst filled at this point in the plot and it will get worse before it gets better, but it will get better.
Chapter 25: A Note
Treet left the House of Healing grudgingly, reluctant to leave his teacher's side even for a second. Granted, it was the end of his assigned work hours, but he often found himself staying later, now that he was allowed to exercise his Gift as well as his hands.
Still, a summons from the Dean of the Collegium was nothing to be taken lightly. Or so the significant look the Healer who had delivered the message as she rushed past had given him seemed to suggest.
He resisted the urge to scuff the toe of his shoe against the ground like a little. The thought of going back there made him want to regress to acting like the child he no longer was. He laughed at his own pompousness. On the outside, at least, he was still a child. He got the distinct feeling, though, that one could not work in the House of Healing and remain so for long. Although he knew deep down that there was nothing else in all of Valdemar that he would rather be doing, he also knew as surely as he knew his own name that he would pay a hefty price for his calling.
Treet reached the door, raised his hand to knock, experiencing a powerful sensation of déjà vu. He knocked and at the called "Come in!" he twisted the knob and walked into the room, carefully looking neither left nor right and thinking of nothing, simply staring at a point somewhere above the Dean's head.
He amused himself for a moment imagining how many ghosts must inhabit this place. Was there anyone who could stand it for more than a few minutes? If he ever found himself Dean, his first act of business would assuredly be to move his office somewhere else. Anywhere else would do.
The Dean looked up at him. Without judgment, possibly without memory. "Oh, Trainee Tretin." Her voice was neutral. "I have a message for you."
A message? Who would be sending him a message? Could it be Herald Karissa? He had almost resigned himself to her absence, knowing that it would be a long time until she returned. He wondered absently how she was doing. A message from her would be wonderful.
But if it was just from a Herald out on circuit, why was the Dean giving him that significant, wary look? Surely there was no problem. Had something happened to Karissa? He had barely a moment to ponder that disturbing line of thought before the Dean spoke again. "Yes, a message. From your family."
It took Treet a few moments to process that information, during which he simply stared. His first thought was 'What family?'. He had been so involved in his new life that his moments of regret for the family that had, for the most part, given him nothing but pain were few and far between. His second thought was one of resignation. 'If it's simply a rant about how my very lifestyle is offensive to them and how I am an abomination, I don't understand why the Dean is even giving it to me.'
Almost mechanically, Treet took the much-folded bit of paper from her hand. He wondered absently who in the Holding could do much more than scrawl their name. The only one he knew who would be even remotely interested in contacting him was his mother, and she had never been taught much beyond the simplest reading and writing.
Treet began to read.
"Dear Son," it began. This in itself was a surprise, in that it didn't say "Dear Abomination" or something of the kind.
"We have recently heard that you have been accepted for training as one of those Healers. We were most worried when you failed to come home from your trip to the market, and your thoughtless mother has been chastised for sending you on such a fool's errand."
Treet winced. He could well imagine what form that chastisement had come in, having been on the receiving end of it himself many a time.
"Although we may have had our disagreements in the past, know that you are still my son, and although your way may not be our way, I hope that we might come to some sort of an agreement. In token of this, we invite you to visit us during your next holiday. Your father."
Treet gaped. He was forced to read the letter through four or five times before the contents penetrated his brain. He thumped heavily into the nearest chair, little noticing that it was the same one he had occupied on a certain other occasion.
Had he been wrong when he had assumed that remaining in Haven meant giving up his family? It wasn't so much that he missed them, wasn't so much that he wanted them back, but, well, if there was one thing he had seen in this part of Valdemar, it was that the family was important. Even Lirain, though her parents were often away, had a warm relationship with them, as he had seen when they were last in Haven. If he had that, he would be more like the others, truly one of them. Oh, no one had ever made him feel excluded, feel his difference from them, but he felt it keenly all the same. He couldn't understand why they would take him back so suddenly, but perhaps it was time to let the unhealed wound of his childhood pass over. After all, he was on his own now. He had a place in the world independent of his family, one that suited him as well as the Holderkin ways had suited his brothers, and maybe, just maybe, his family had accepted that.
He looked up to see the Dean giving him a penetrating stare. "If you wish to visit your family during the Midwinter holidays, we will, of course, not stop you," she said neutrally.
"You don't think I should go?" He dared to ask, staring at the floor while joy and disbelief warred within him.
"I think," the Dean began, "I think you should think this over. It is not…not the usual action. I do not wish to prejudice you against your family, but you must be cautious. If you wish to go, we will provide you with a horse and adequate supplies. You may go. Inform me of your decision when you have made it."
Treet knew he should not have expected the Dean to be happy for him, to understand the meaning of that small piece of paper, but her reply left a bitter taste in his mouth. What was he to do?
His response to this uncertainty was instinctive. It was the end of the day and Lirain, still a Trainee, would most likely be in her rooms. He headed straight there, still clutching his message.
When she opened the door, Treet simply thrust the paper at her, unsure what to do or say, unsure whether to smile or look grim, be uncertain or be happy. She read it, slowly, no emotion visible on her face.
When she was done, she wordlessly pulled Treet inside and closed the door, beckoning him to take a seat on her bed, which he did. She simply looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
"I want to go," he said, his opinion solidifying as he said it.
"This leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Lirain finally said, softly but firmly. "Obviously, my gift isn't touch reading, but something about this, it doesn't seem quite right."
Treet wasn't really surprised by this. Somewhere inside he had a funny feeling about the whole thing too. Couldn't she see, though, that he almost had to go, for closure's sake if nothing else?
"They're my family," he said, mouthing a platitude to cover his inability to articulate his uneasiness.
"To some extent or another, we all give up our families to come here. You wouldn't be the first nor will you be the last."
"Easy for you to say!" Treet replied hotly, almost unthinkingly. "Your family is right here, and they love you no matter what you do! Mine have seen me always as the odd one out, the misfit, and I just want to show them that I have a place too! What is so wrong with that?"
"Nothing is wrong with your motivation," Lirain assured him, eyes large and sad, "but there may well be more than a few things wrong with theirs."
Treet couldn't even be angry with her, although he boiled with the sense that to not defend his family against her accusations was somehow wrong.
"If there are, I'll find out, and at least there'll be an end to it! I had almost put them behind me, yet they aren't gone. There are days I feel them behind me, passing judgment on all that I do or say and finding me as wanting as they have always done. I need to do this. After all, the worst they can do is hurl a few insults as me, and I surely can't see why they'd bring me all the way to the Holding to do that."
Lirain could well imagine a few reasons, but she kept silent. She knew that to push further would only mean upsetting Treet and goading him into a making a final decision that he wasn't ready to deal with.
She wasn't foolish enough to want to say that he would never need anyone but her, or, at least, the corner of her soul where she hid her romantic fantasies was the only one that thought it. Once they were together. It was a dream for her, a lure tantalizingly out of reach. Sometimes it was so thick in the air she wondered how Treet could miss it. When she asked this, Rith told her that Treet simply felt it in his own way. That on the outside, she probably appeared unaffected as well.
She sighed. All she could do now was remain alert through her special tie to Treet and be prepared to do whatever she could if anything went wrong. She didn't allow the thought to move beyond that nebulous feeling of ill omen, but she was silent for the rest of the evening. Treet left shortly afterwards.
When he informed the Dean of his decision, she gave him a long hard stare, then told him that one of the Collegium horses would be available for him to use starting on the first day of the holidays. He nodded acquiescence and left.
