Okay, I'm finally in the zone for writing this. I was having difficulty getting in the right mindset to write something this deep, but I've finally gotten there. Anyhow, thanks to ilikedan and Kuraun Kuraun for reviewing the last chapter.

The Imaginary Sock

Part Fourteen: An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester

"Yet had the number of her days
Bin as compleat as was her praise,
Nature and fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life."

John Milton

Uncle Adam was in his study when Neah arrived at the house with Sanjiv. His uncle's house was not nearly as large as the Camelot's or Walker Manor, but it seemed to suit the man. He wasn't the kind to host parties or gossip like his other family members, so all Uncle Adam really needed were the basic rooms plus a few extra: the kitchen, the dining room, a parlor, a bedroom, a study, an extra room for the rare overnight guest, and his laboratory in the basement.

He stood to greet Neah when the akuma butler announced his arrival. "Neah, I was very worried about you last night," said his uncle. Uncle Adam walked over and patted him on the back. "Feeling better today?"

"Yes," replied Neah. It was somewhat true, although he was still experiencing the crisis in his mind. "How about yourself?"

"I'm just recuperating. You know that I've never been as fond of parties as Sheril, Lulubell, and Tykki," chuckled Uncle Adam. He gestured to an open armchair. Neah walked over, pushed out the tails of his coat, and sat down. "I see that Junior is still with you."

"I was too tired to return him to Paris last night," stated Neah. "He came with me to return the horse."

"Right," responded his uncle. He adjusted his round glasses on his nose to better look at Neah. It made him want to gulp. "Are you sure you're alright, Neah?"

He knew that he would have to ask now or just forget about asking his questions all together. "Well," he began, "I was a bit curious about something- and confused as well- so I was wondering if you could clarify something to me."

His uncle leaned forward in his chair. "Of course," he said. "Ask away."

Neah thought about his word choice for a moment before speaking again. "I know that our clan has been fighting the war for the last seven millennia, and I know what the war basically boils down to, but I don't even know how it began. It's hard to truly understand the value of all of this when I don't even know how the conflict came to be."

His uncle stared at him blankly for a moment. Neah felt his ears begin to turn red. He really shouldn't have asked. Now his uncle would probably be mad at him. He glanced at Sanjiv sitting in the corner of the study. The young Bookman was flipping through some novel pretending that he was not hanging upon every single one of their words.

Uncle Adam smiled. It wasn't the maniacal grin of his Millennium Earl form, rather it was a genuine smile. "You know, Neah," replied his uncle, "out of all the Noah I have met for the last seven thousand years, you are the first to ask that question. I like that. It truly is bothersome to have a family working for you rather than with you. Blind trust can be such a fickle thing. Since you have asked, I am more than willing to tell you the reason. Of course, keep in mind, this reason will be a heavy burden. It has been a weight on my shoulders for the last seven millennia. Do you still want to hear the tail?"

Neah placed a hand on Uncle Adam's arm. "Don't push yourself too hard," he said. "I'll be by your side no matter what happens. You're part of my family, so I want to help you. You can tell me."

oOo

He let Sanjiv drive the cart back to Walker Manor after he bid his uncle farewell for the day. The first half of their journey was completely silent as both of them reflected upon what Uncle Adam had said. It was truly a remarkable story.

Neah couldn't help but be... disappointed. He was glad to know the truth behind it all, but his uncle's story had not smothered the qualms in his heart like he thought it would. The truth had only served to make the protests louder.

"It is rather messed up, isn't it?" he asked Sanjiv.

The redhead continued looking forward with unblinking emotionless dark eyes. "I don't have an opinion on the matter," he replied. "Though, you may keep judging it as you see fit. I'm just after the facts. Bookman will be interested in this."

"How can you not have an opinion on this matter?" Neah growled. He scowled at the young Bookman. After everything they had just heard, he couldn't believe that Sanjiv didn't care. Neah thought of a different boy, one with auburn hair, who at this point would probably have called the local constable or driven the cart through the front of Uncle Adam's house. Those were proper reactions to what the Earl was planning. "No matter what your credo might be, this does involve you."

Sanjiv's knuckles were white as he clenched the reigns. "Don't make me think about this on a personal level, Neah," he hissed. "I have no opinion on the matter nor do I intend to develop one."

"Yeah right," huffed Neah. He looked at the landscape as they continued on in silence. It really was a shame that he intended to destroy something so beautiful. Perhaps this agitation was what the Bookmen truly felt. He was certain that it was what Gitano had felt. Neah almost regretted all those lectures he had given in his childhood. Back then the whole idea of his family destroying the exorcists and their Innocence had seemed like the right thing to do. Now the world was turned on edge. He wasn't quite sure what was right and wrong anymore.

Uncle Adam seemed to have his own idea, and considering the truth of his Clan and the Innocence it did seem fair... for them. However, Neah couldn't say that it was fair to condemn the entire planet. Something inside him told him that it wasn't fair to condemn his own kind. Although he was a Noah, he was also human.

Plus, Neah felt there was still something missing. Some piece of the puzzle did not quite fit, and it was prodding him in the back of his skull. He knew that his mother had helped complete this generation of the Clan of Noah- he didn't know why- but he didn't know what role he and his brothers had been meant to play. There were only thirteen Noah, but here he was, the Fourteenth. It was because he was number fourteen that he was special... Uncle Adam definitely thought so.

He grasped the side of the cart, careful not to pinch his gloved hand between the rough wooden sides and the wheel. Neah was suddenly very angry. This time, however, it wasn't at Cross, his brothers, his mother, the human race, or himself. He was angry with his family. He despised the very idea of what they stood for, and now he hated Uncle Adam. It was funny thinking back upon how much he had looked up to the man, and how this admiration had disappeared in the period of a couple hours. Neah felt bitter and completely isolated.

Neah needed to talk to someone, someone who was not totally involved. He thought about taking the Ark to Venice, but then thought better of it. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if his brother's childhood personality resurfaced and punched him in the face. Cross wouldn't be a good choice either since Sanjiv didn't know where on the mainland he was headed. The magician was also likely to throw him out a window. He'd totally deserve it, though.

It was at this time that he wished that he had left Rory alone like Mana had said. Rory would have been more than willing to talk to him. Also, if Rory were here then he'd still have his mother. Maybe she would actually have a sensible reaction to Uncle Adam's scheme. Howeve, there was the chance that she would actually support him...

It all came back to the thought in the back of his mind, the question that he had asked only once. All of it came back to who he was. For some reason, Neah felt he knew the answer. This truth, however, was possibly worse than the one he now knew. It was a truth he didn't want to admit...

oOo

It was early evening by the time Neah arrived in Paris with Sanjiv. Lamplighters ran about the streets mingling with the soot-covered crowd of factory workers walking home from a long day of work. The Bookmen were living in a small flat on a pleasant tree-lined alley on the outskirts of the capital. It was a two room place that was filled to the brim with books, scrolls, newspaper clippings, and a large assortment of other kinds of media.

Bookman, of course, was not pleased to see them. "You said that you'd be returning this morning," stated the old man. Sanjiv did not look up from the decorative rug on the floor, causing the old man to cuff him upside the head. "I told you that there were many things to be done today. Now we have lost precious time thanks to you and your laziness."

"Laziness?" inquired Sanjiv. "Is that what you call it now, old man?"

"Yes," grumbled the old man. He glared at his apprentice through narrowed eyes. "Laziness and irresponsibility. It makes me wonder just how dedicated you are to your apprenticeship and to the duty of the clan."

Neah was impressed to see Sanjiv's eye twitch. Normally the guy was pretty silent and impassive like he had been this afternoon at Uncle Adam's house. Now their positions were switched and it was him watching Sanjiv. He supposed that this must be what it feels like to be a Bookman.

Sanjiv turned on his heel and walked to the other room. "I'll be working on my log," he said stiffly.

Neah heard the door shut and the lock turn. Bookman sighed as he made his way back to the table in the middle of the main room. It was a couple minutes before either of them spoke. "Well, what are you still doing here, Neah Walker?" asked Bookman.

Neah gave a polite bow. "I apologize for returning him so late," he stated. He could feel Bookman's eyes drilling into the back of his lowered head. "It was entirely my fault."

"I doubt that," responded Bookman.

Neah heard the old man take up a fountain pen and begin to write. Apparently he was not very interested in whatever Sanjiv had been doing for the past two weeks. He'd just have to do his best to make the old man interested. After all, it looked like Sanjiv would have a difficult time getting any information out of the old geezer for a while. He turned to 'examine' one of the books on the table. "I went to see my uncle today."

"Really," replied Bookman, though his eyes didn't leave the paper.

"Yes," he said. "That's why I was late bringing Sanjiv back to Paris. While we were there, my uncle told me a most fascinating story..."

"Mmhmm."

That had not done the trick quite yet, so he would have to dangle a carrot in front of Bookman's nose. "It was about before the war," he elaborated. He heard Bookman's pen stop scratching the paper. The geezer's eyes were now on him. Perfect. "You'll want to see that log of his."

"Sanjiv," called the old man.

The door to the other room opened a crack. "What?" asked Sanjiv.

"I want to see your log when you're done," stated Bookman.

"Why?" inquired Sanjiv. Neah thought he saw a hint of frustration in the younger Bookman's eyes. He'd have to come around here more often. They were much more interesting whenever his family was not around.

"Apparently you've recorded something rather significant," said Bookman.

"Maybe I did," retorted Sanjiv.

Bookman sighed. "Will you come out here and work on it? It seems that he has other things he wishes to discuss."

Sanjiv emerged silently from the bedroom with a leather-bound book in tow. "I'd start with someone named Cornelia," he suggested. "That is, if you know her. If not he'll have to come back another day." He opened the book and began writing.

"So you met Cornelia," said Bookman. The old man folded his hands in front of him on the table.

"I didn't meet her, per se, but I saw her," he replied. "Who is she? From what I could tell she and Road-"

"They are the same person," clarified Bookman. "As long as Cornelia is asleep, Road exists. However, if she were to remain awake for too long, then Road would disappear."

"They were pretty close to that last night," stated Neah. "Cornelia woke up upstairs, and at the same time Road fainted. She said something about being too emotional."

"They're opposites," explained Bookman. "Road is Cornelia's dream. She does everything that Cornelia cannot do herself. Road is loud and lively while Cornelia is weak and bed-ridden. Anything she desires is for Road to have. Of course, it's not perfect. Her powers cannot make every one of her desires come true."

Neah thought about her limp hair and her lack of musical talent. Those flaws definitely showed that last point. "I think she's somehow connected with my mother. There's a tree outside in the fields that my mother always called Cornelia."

"Cornelia was the daughter of two members of the Campbell family staff back when your mother lived in the house alone," said Bookman. Neah felt his eye open in shock. "One day she began to do some strange things. Her parents became worried and alerted a local priest. With his help they locked Cornelia away to prevent the 'other demons' from finding her. They created a sort of chamber under the Campbell family estate to hide her. Very few knew about the place except for the priest and those residing in the Manor. This lasted about two years, during which everyone else forgot there had once been a girl named Cornelia. One person, though, still remembered the child."

"My mother," interrupted Neah.

"Yes," responded Bookman with a nod. "One day, Adam came to these parts looking for the child. The Clan had sensed her awakening, but because of the actions of Cornelia's parents and the priest, they had been unable to find her. For some reason your mother told them where to find Cornelia, and as a reward she was granted a special amnesty amongst the clan. The priest and the other members of the household staff vanished the night Cornelia escaped."

"I suppose they killed them," muttered Neah.

"A very likely theory," agreed Bookman. "Soon after that, your mother married and left the estate to her cousin Cyrus."

Neah let this all sink in before asking another question. "Do you know why she told him?" he questioned.

"I record the facts that I've heard," replied Bookman. "No one I've interviewed seems to know the reason. I'd suggest asking your mother. She is the only one I have not interviewed about this incident."

For once in his life, Neah thought to ask a question that had always been burning in the back of his mind. "You said that my mother married soon afterwards," he said. "Who did she marry?"

He saw the right corner of Bookman's mouth curl up. "I believe that that is a question for another day," he responded. "Perhaps once Sanjiv has finished his log."

That was a shame. Neah was sure the entire tale would take at least a week to write down. "That's too bad," he stated. "Maybe you could satisfy my curiosity on some other subject."

"It depends," replied Bookman. "What do you wish to hear?"

"Let's go for an eye for an eye," decided Neah. "Tell me everything that you know about Uncle Adam."

oOo

He opened his eyes to a silent world. The wind did not whisper, and his breaths came out as silent puffs of air. Neah couldn't even feel the silent puffs of air, let alone see them, yet he knew he was still breathing. The silence was stifling to the point that he felt afraid. It was a feeling to which he was slowly becoming accustomed. Still, Neah had never wanted to live in a silent world.
It wasn't hot or cold in this place. He'd give anything, though, just to feel something for a moment. Neah wasn't even sure if he was sitting, standing, lying down, or floating in oblivion since he felt no pressure. Upon looking down, he saw that he was standing on a slab of ancient, crumbling wall that had collapsed. This wall was in the middle of what appeared to be an endless lake where many other ruins stood, rotting away into the still water.
He looked down into the water. The stillness made it function as a kind of mirror, sort of like looking into a window pane in a lit room at midnight. His face grinned madly up at him reminding Neah very much of his beloved uncle's disguise. He couldn't fathom how his face looked so happy when he felt nothing but despair in the silent world. Neah picked up a small rock and threw it at his reflection, causing the surface of the water to ripple. The smile in his reflection began to waver.
Then he looked up. He found there were suddenly many people around him: the entire Clan of Noah. Uncle Jasdero and Uncle Devit were running around wildly, grinning like he had moments before. He couldn't hear their hollars. Uncle Wisely sat on top of a pillar in a meditative pose, yet Neah could not hear the quick words tumbling out of his mouth. Uncle Tykki and Aunt Lulubell clinked glasses while Uncle Sheril fumed behind them, nursing his own glass of white wine. For once, Aunt Lulubell was smiling. Neah, however, could neither hear the wine glasses connect nor Sheril's whispers into Aunt Lulubell's ear. Uncle Fiidora lay on his back whistling some merry tune. Uncle Skinn threw rocks at Uncle Jasdero and Uncle Devit. Nothing. Uncle Maashiima and Uncle Toraido walked over broken glass and debris in bare feet leaving bloody footprints that were too well-defined to have been caused by just the glass. Uncle Maitora sat somewhat close by, prodding the water with one long slender finger. Shadowy hands reached up to his uncle, but he batted them away and watched with glee as they sunk back into their watery grave.

Road sang to herself loudly as she skipped through the still water like a fairy, but he still couldn't hear that. He was glad, though, that he couldn't hear that.

Uncle Adam stood atop the tallest ruin in this world with his arms raised over his head. He was in his form as the Earl, macabre grin spread across his face as he announced their victory. Neah just wished that he would change back into his other form. The Millannium Earl was not the man he had always thought of as his dear Uncle Adam.

He didn't see his mother, the Bookmen, or Sophia there. It felt surprisingly empty not seeing one of their faces staring intently at him. He had grown accustomed to hearing their voices, feeling their glances, sensing their presence... but today he felt nothing. It was an awful nothing.

Neah tried to call out to his uncle to ask about his mother and the others, but his voice didn't come. He tried yelling and screaming, waving his arms about madly. His family didn't seem to notice. Perhaps they were all just crazy. Maybe he was crazy. It could even have been that the entire world had gone insane.

He would have felt alright if a piano were there. As long as he had music...

But this world was silent. He would never have music again. Neah could write as many compositions as he wanted, but he would never know the sound they would make. Never again would he hear the laughing tone of a scherzo, the melancholy of an etude, or listen to the soothing sound of Sophia singing a lullaby while putting his mother to bed.

It was then that he finally felt something besides the despair welled up in his chest. There was something running down his face, something wet. He reached a hand up to touch it, and was relieved that it wasn't the crimson color of blood. It was a clear liquid. His tears.

True, it was bizarre that he could go from grinning madly only minutes before to crying, but he really didn't care. All he really wanted was some sound, anything to break him out of this silent world...

oOo

Neah sat up in his bed. His breathing was ragged, he was covered in sweat, and he still wore the clothes he had worn to Uncle Adam's house just yesterday. He was very nervous, for it was still very quiet. Neah was tempted to to pick up the bell on his table and give it a ring just to hear some sound (although it would wake Sophia and quite possibly his mother), but then he heard a bird begin to sing outside. Rushing over to the window, he threw it open.

The sun was just rising over the golden fields, causing the very edge of them to glow. A couple birds flew overhead over the field and landed on one of the higher branches of Cornelia the tree. Neah sighed inwardly as he continued to watch the sun rise.

"How hideous," said the Inner Noah.

"No," stated Neah, "it really is wonderful."

He leaned against the window ledge and listened to the birds sing the praises of the early morning. The sun continued to climb higher over the fields, basking the wheat below in flaming golden glory. Neah had never woken up this early to watch the sun rise. He could now see why painters and poets both raved about them.

"You sound like a romantic fool," quipped the Inner Noah.

"At least I'm appreciating life," retorted Neah. He brought a hand up to cover his eyes as the sun reached eye-level.

"What good is it?" asked the Inner Noah. "We're all as good as dead thanks to the Earl's plan."

"It is a terrible plan," Neah agreed. "He has some nerve thinking that he could actually-"

"I could do better," stated the Inner Noah.

"That's only because you would destroy everything, even the Clan," said Neah.

"Why don't we?" inquired the Inner Noah.

"Why don't we what?"

"Kill the Clan," elaborated the Inner Noah. "Then you could go along your merry way and I'll leave you alone for a while."

Neah was aghast. "They're my family!"

"You don't see it that way," taunted the Inner Noah. "Not anymore."

"We are different," admitted Neah. He was very different from his family. Neah wasn't sure when it had started, but he wasn't the same as last year. Whether it was because of his own volition or because of a certain brother of his he wasn't quite sure.

"Open your eyes and see the world for yourself. When you find your own side of this whole mess, then I will follow you wherever that may take me."

"I'll just have to find my own way," he decided.

"We will," clarified the Inner Noah. "You're stuck with me until you die, so don't you ever forget about me."

"We will," repeated Neah, although it pained him to admit his ball and chain.

oOo

Whenever he was done doing the Earl's dirty work these days, Neah would try his best to avoid his family. At first just staying in Walker Manor did the trick, but then they all decided to make house calls. He cursed his guilty conscience as he had to endure Road, Uncle Tykki, Uncle Fiidora, Uncle Jasdevi and Uncle Debito, and finally even Uncle Sheril and Aunt Lulubell. The only result of these house calls were a dropped tea set- Sophia could barely stand straight let alone serve his guests- and several bad headaches. Uncle Tykki even sent an invitation out to his Uncle Cyrus, apparently hoping that the eccentric man would cause Neah to be more sociable. The man thankfully never replied, so that disaster was averted.

He soon found other places to hide, such as the flat where Bookman and Sanjiv were staying and his room on the Ark. His family didn't care enough to think that he might actually be visiting the unsociable humans that were always about during their war meetings, and none of them knew about his secret room. Neah knew exactly where to find his family's rooms, but the location of his room would be something he would take to his grave. Uncle Adam had told him earlier in his childhood that it was his room, so he could do what he wanted with it. He supposed that man had never thought that a member of his clan would keep their room a secret forever.

Of course, his room brought back many bad memories. He hadn't really used it all that often after the incident with Rory since all he would see in the room was his missing twin brother's face and his raw red arm… Neah had only wanted to remove the embedded Innocence… He had tried picking it out with tweezers and burning it off with one of the many potions Uncle Adam kept in his lab… It was then he became desperate and felt that the only solution would be to cut his hand off… He hadn't meant for Rory to disappear or even die…

It was all entirely his fault. Neah now knew that no matter what, this secret fact would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Rhian had cleaned to place up the day after the incident, and he would occasionally let first her and then Sophia into his secret room to dust it after that. Sophia had to come in more often these days to clean the place up or bring him food, for he would sit in there for hours playing the piano. If he kept this up, then this piano would soon be more worn than the old one in the sitting room. He wouldn't mind that. Neah always felt at peace sitting in this room alone, playing old pieces or writing new compositions. Only when Sophia would call out to him from his bedroom door did he know that it was time to sleep.

It was because of this that he was greatly peeved to be called back at lunchtime one afternoon in late June. First off, the air was terribly sticky for the weather grew hot as soon as summer arrived this year. His room on the Ark was always the temperature he wanted it to be, so he'd grown accustomed to wearing a suit coat at all times. Second, the silly girl had called him back to talk to his mother.

"She doesn't understand anything," he grumbled as he followed Sophia to his mother's room.

"I know, Lord Neah," replied Sophia. She bowed her head as she led him through the hallway. "There was something odd about the way that she looked at me today, sir. I didn't know what it meant, but I felt it best to have you see her before I call a doctor."

"Fine," he groused. Sophia opened the door for him to enter his mother's chambers. Just like on every other day the curtains were drawn to cast the room in shadow. His mother lay in her bed with her back to the door. She turned to face him and blinked as she gazed into the light for what must have been the first time that day. "Good afternoon, Mother."

She blinked at him, but did not speak. Sure, he was glad the woman had not called him Rory, but it was annoying to just stand there and watch her blink. He decided to leave and tell Sophia to call a doctor, even though the doctor would only confirm that his mother was now a mute.

"N-Neah," said a voice clearly.

He turned on his heels to face his mother again. She was no longer blinking, her gaze now strongly set on him. "Mother?" he asked. Neah wasn't quite sure what to say. It was probably a fluke, but he desperately wanted her to speak again.

"Neah," repeated his mother. Her voice made her sound very assured, very much like the grand lady she had once been. She extended a hand to him. "Please, come sit by me."

He advanced slowly like a newborn deer first trying out its legs. Neah took his mother's hand and held it firmly between his hands. He took the chair by her bedside. "Mother…" he began to say.

"I'm so sorry, Neah," she sniffled, tears forming in her silver eyes. "I wanted him to come back so badly. He was my baby boy."

"I know, Mother," he responded. He was still trying to determine what he should be feeling at this moment. His mother had recognized him for the first time in almost seven- no, it was coming close to eight- years. "Rory was always special."

"And so were you and Mana," she stated. He blinked. Neah was surprised that his mother even remembered his older brother. She hadn't said his name since the day Mana had 'betrayed the family' and ran away from home. "They're not coming back, are they?"

"Rory is alive, Mother," he assured her. "He just can't find his way home. I can't say the same for Mana, though."

"He was always a good boy," she sighed. "A bit rough around the edges, but when he would smile… you remember the way Mana used to smile."

"I do, Mother," he replied. He recalled the day out in the fields when Mother and Mana had played that trick on him. It was the last time he could recall Mana smiling at him. Neah wondered vaguely if Mana still smiled like that.

"I hope that he's happy," Mother said. "I wanted the three of you to always be happy. I'm afraid, though, that I caused you a lot of trouble, Neah."

He patted her hand. "It wasn't your fault, Mother," he stated. "It wasn't Rory or Mana's fault either. It was-"

"It is my fault, Neah," she declared. "I woke up this morning and for the first time I realized that Rhian wasn't here. Where is she?"

He paused before saying, "She's been dead for two years, Mother."

"I was so scared, Neah," she mumbled. "I didn't know what to say to the girl who came in here. When I looked up into her eyes, trying to remember who she was, I saw someone who was more frightened than even me."

"Sophia Maria has always been terrified of practically everyone in the family, Mother," explained Neah.

"That was Sophia?" she questioned. "The little girl who worked at the Camelot's estate?"

"Yes," he said.

His mother began to cry. "Why did I do all this?" she questioned. "You're all so young… and I have cursed all of you for life. You, Mana, Rory, Sophia, even that servant boy Gitano… I should have let him die…"

He was about to say 'Cross', but realized his mother would not understand. "That's a rather awful thing to say, Mother," he stated. "I'm sure he's thankful to be alive."

"Not with the life you all must lead," she cried. She sat up in her bed and began to fall forward. Neah stood up from the chair and caught her. "I need to tell you something, Neah. I want you to understand me, understand why I did all of this…"

As her voice faltered, Neah prompted her. He didn't want her to stop speaking. "What is it, Mother?" he asked.

"It's about something I did a long time ago…"

"Is this about Cornelia?" he inquired.

His mother's eyes widened, and she stopped crying. For a moment, Neah thought that he had said the wrong thing. "You know about Cornelia?" she questioned.

"I accidentally saw her at Uncle Cyrus' house," he admitted.

"Poor Cyrus," she muttered. "To put up with her in his house. I hope he fled."

Neah now thought about the last time he had seen his uncle. It must have been over a year ago when Uncle Cyrus had come for dinner with him and his mother. If Cornelia- if Road- was staying in his house while the Earl used it to schmooze with the elite, then he must have made a run for it. This would certainly explain why he hadn't answered Uncle Tykki's letter. "I bet he did," Neah murmured. "But, Mother, you did help Cornelia and the Earl. I just don't know why. Every other human being is terrified of the very mention of the Millennium Earl, but you didn't run away. What made you want to help him?"

Mother looked down at the sheets on her bed. "She was only a child," she breathed. "Even though everyone said that Cornelia was a monster, I always saw her as a child. Before she became part of the Clan she was so sweet. I used to see her running after her mother to help pin the laundry. I couldn't bear the thought that her own parents would lock her up for the rest of her life… That, however, was before I knew what she became…"

Neah sat down on the edge of her bed and propped his mother up on her pillows. "Road is a little monster," he agreed with a coy grin.

His mother chuckled a bit at that remark. "Yes," she said. "I didn't know that Cornelia- Road- would hate me for saving her. Even when it was tough dealing with her after Adam saved her, I would always think of the little girl that I once knew…"

She looked towards her shuttered window. Neah knew that outside those closed shutters were the fields of dead golden wheat and a tree called Cornelia. He felt that he now understood. Now his mother's beautiful big heart was eating her inside-out. "I don't think you did anything wrong," he remarked. "You only did what your heart told you to do."

"But if I had listened to my head," she retorted, "I would have known like everyone else that something was wrong with Cornelia… that something was wrong with Adam… and perhaps Rory, Mana, and you would be safe. I always wanted a family, but I'm afraid that I traded that for a worthless dream. Please, Neah, don't end up like them. Don't end up like Adam. He lost his way somewhere along the road."

"He's my father, isn't he?" asked Neah.

His mother sighed and leaned forward to hold him tightly. "Yes," she responded. "Adam is your father. I'm so sorry I ruined your life, Neah. Please forgive me."

"I do, Mother," he said without any hesitation. "And I promise not to be like him."

oOo

It seemed like his mother's mental breakdown was over. Her body, however, continued to deteriorate. Sophia was forced to clean long into the night so that she could sit with his mother as she drifted between feverish daydreams and moments of extreme clarity. She would come and fetch him whenever his mother awoke so that he could be by her side. They would talk about many things during these times, mostly trivial things that would make her laugh.

Neah felt that this was the closest he could remember being to his mother. For once, it wasn't about him trying to be better than Rory or her comparing him to his sweet twin. They weren't perfect, but they were trying to break out of the past. Their interactions were very simple with him either sitting in the chair by his mother's bedside or sitting on the edge of her bed. He felt that he could be himself, that he wasn't required to be dignified like he was in the eyes of his family or cold like how he acted towards Cross, Sophia, and the Bookmen. It was all very relaxing, but he knew that it was coming to a quick end.

Whenever his mother slept Neah would work on his project. It was his own monument to her life, to his brother's life, to his life. Neah had written his mother many short pieces in his younger years, but this new composition would be special. This would be her lullaby. All the feelings that he had had for her in the past- frustration, sadness, abandonment, love- were poured into the notes that decorated the one sheet of music. It would be his well-wishes for her and his final goodbye.

It would also be his triumph, for Neah now knew what he wanted to do. Through this lullaby he would forge his own path. He would use this piece as a weapon against the Clan of Noah, a family who had only ever used his mother, his brothers, and himself as stepping stones to achieve their twisted goal. The Earl would never know until it was too late what this simple composition would do to them…

His family, fortunately, left him alone during this time. Uncle Adam had said to them that he would need time to mourn for his mother now, so that they could all move on together after her passing. He didn't know that his dear nephew- his son- was done mourning long before that. The lonely days filled with ash-piles and decimated cities had taken all his tears. Neah would miss his mother, but she would always be with him. He was determined to carry on her will.

On a sunny day in mid-August he finished the lullaby. Neah looked over the sheet and committed it to memory. It was truly his finest composition, a piece that didn't follow the rules but still was beautiful. Satisfied with his work, Neah took up a match and burned the music. He was careful to collect all the ashes in an ashtray. Once it was done burning, he picked up a golden ball that lay on the table and poured the ashes inside. This was what had taken him so long, the damned little golden ball. However, it was integral to his plan, so it was worth the time and effort he spent stealing it from the body of a dead exorcist during one of his post-battle sweeps. Now all he needed was a magician…

Neah pocketed the ball and locked the door to his room. When he returned to the manor he poked his head inside his mother's chambers. The curtains were now open, allowing the room to bask in the bright afternoon sunshine. His mother lay sleeping peacefully on her bed, a slight smile gracing her thin face. Sophia sat in the chair next to the bed reading a novel. There were dark bags under her eyes that stood out due to the way she had her head buried in her book. She set it down once she heard him walk into the room.

"She has been asleep for about two hours, Lord Neah," she reported.

"I'll sit with her now, Sophia," he replied.

"Would you like me to bring anything up here for you, my lord?" Sophia inquired.

"No," he said.

"Alright, I'll be in the kitchen," she responded. Sophia stood up and began to walk out of the room, but Neah grabbed one of her arms.

"Forget polishing the silver or the glassware or whatever it is that you're doing down there," he ordered. His eyes turned soft. "Go and rest for now, Sophia."

She seemed rather shocked, but Sophia left the room, carrying the novel. Neah listened as she retreated down to the first floor and shut the door to her room.

His mother didn't awake until another half hour had passed. "Neah," she murmured. She reached out a hand and began to pat his head. Her hand felt much warmer than it should. "This is a surprise. I was sure that Sophia was in here before."

"I sent her away for now," he stated. Neah found a bowl filled with cold water on the side table and a washcloth beside it. He rinsed the cloth and then pressed it to his mother's forehead. "I wanted to share something with you."

"What is it?" she asked. Her eyelids were still drooping heavily with sleep.

Neah sat on the edge of her bed. "I wrote you a song, Mother," he said.

She smiled up at his face. "You wrote a song for me?" she inquired. "I'd love to hear it then."

"I thought you would," responded Neah. He wrapped his mother up in a blanket and carried her down the stairs to the sitting room. Neah place her into her favorite armchair, the one she would always sit in when she listened to him play. Stretching his fingers out over the keys, Neah began to play. His mother closed her eyes and a content smile appeared upon her face. He then began to softly sing.

"And then the boy fell fast asleep the gasping flames within the ashes

One by one rise up and expand into that beloved face

Suspended from the earth, thousands of dreams

On the night when those silver eyes trembled

You were born shining brightly

Hundreds of millions of months and years

no matter how many prayers are returned to the earth

I shall continue to pray…"

Silent tears fell from his mother's eyes when he finished playing. She looked at him with stars in her eyes. "That was beautiful," she stated. "Will you play it for me again?"

He complied and began to play the song. This time his mother sang along, her voice sounding like leaves rustling in the wind. She began to cough at the end, causing him to stop. As he carried her back up to her room, his mother continued to hum her lullaby.

oOo

His mother lingered for four days after that before she passed away. He was the only family member there at the time, and he hummed her lullaby as she shut her eyes for the last time, her hand held loosely in his. She looked very peaceful lying there in her bed. Neah let go of her hand and then asked Sophia to send a telegraph to his other family members.

The house was flooded with old friends for the next few days. Most of his time was consumed by Lady Elizabeth who he practically had to force into her carriage when the wake was over. Every centimeter of open table-top now held vases of flowers and other various gifts from mourners. Sophia ran around the house trying her best to care for all the plants, even though he didn't really want all these flowers. He didn't have the heart to tell her that, so he continued to let her care for the damned plants. His uncle Tykki was even kind enough to give him a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches, saying it would help with the overbearing scent of hundreds of flowers. Everything seemed to pass in a blur, though he distinctly remembered that his family never cried during the course of the week. They had tried their best to look somber, but Neah could recognize the look of relief on their faces. It only served to make him more angry at them than before.

The funeral was a small affair with only the next of kin having been invited. Neah was slightly disappointed that Uncle Cyrus did not make an appearance. He really hoped that his mother's eccentric cousin was well and far away from his insane family. Road grimaced as the minister (his family was angry that Uncle Tykki had thought to invite a minister, but his uncle said it was for formality's sake) read a couple passages of scripture from the Bible as the casket was lowered into the ground.

Afterwards they had brunch together at the Camelot's Manor. They made idle chatter, but no one mentioned his mother. It was almost as if they had completely forgotten her. He stole a glance at his uncle at the head of the table. Uncle Adam had been rather quiet and reserved the entire day. This was uncharacteristic for the leader of the Clan who normally reigned over family occasions. There was nothing, however, hinting at sadness, and this slightly disappointed Neah. Perhaps it had been foolish, but he had hoped that his uncle- his father- might feel some pang of remorse at the loss of his mother. His family might not have cared, but Uncle Adam had a different sort of connection to his mother, a special one.

Neah completely resolved to go forward with his plan.

As soon as his family had finished talking everyone rose to leave. Road stopped him before he headed out the door. "Sheril wanted me to tell you that you are welcome to join us for dinner," she said. "I think he wants to talk to you about when we will finally set the date. I'm sure he wants me out of the house, and I am just as eager to leave. We can also talk about that."

Road pointed a glare out the door. Neah followed her gaze. Sophia didn't seem to notice the two of them staring at her as she sat nonchalantly in the cart outside the gate of Camelot Manor. Neah licked his lips before speaking. "I'm actually a bit exhausted from everything today," he replied. "Perhaps I can join you for lunch tomorrow?"

She smiled at him. Neah noted that her lipstick only served to make her oddly sharp teeth stand out more. "That would be delightful," she stated. Road pecked him on the cheek. "Until tomorrow, then."

As soon as she closed the door behind him, Neah took out his handkerchief to wipe the lipstick off his cheek. He heard someone chuckle on the porch. Uncle Adam sat on a chair smoking a cigarette that Uncle Tykki had given him. "She's very affection, that Road," he snickered.

"Yes," Neah agreed. He shuffled his feet in slight discomfort. All he wanted to do was leave the Camelot's as soon as possible.

Thankfully, his uncle seemed to interpret this as a sign of melancholy. His eyes softened. "You've been very strong this past week," he said. "I must say that I am proud of you. If you feel that you need to talk to someone, though, then just be aware that you can come talk to me at any time. The door to my home is always opened to you. You are very important to me, Neah."

"Thanks," he responded. Neah let a corner of his mouth turn up so that Uncle Adam hopefully wouldn't be able to process the thoughts running through his mind. It made him want to rethink his plan, to find another way. He knew, though, that there was only one way for him to go now. Neah had a promise to keep. His Inner Noah began screaming inside his head, shouting at him to leave right now. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Perhaps you'd like to join me in my house in Edo," pondered Uncle Adam. "I'm planning on spending the winter there. Unfortunately the cherry will not be in season, but if you'd like we could stay there until they bloom in April."

There it was, the last bit of information he needed for his plan. The Earl was taking up a permanent residence in Edo, and he had flung the doors wide open for him… As long as no one else was invited, it would be much easier. "Maybe," he responded nonchalantly.

"I won't keep you," stated Uncle Adam, taking a drag from his cigarette. "I'm sure that you have other things that you wish to do. Hopefully after a good night's rest you'll be ready to talk about more war plans with me. Good afternoon, Neah."

"Goodbye, dear uncle," he replied.

Neah didn't turn around to face him as Sophia snapped the reigns. He didn't want to admit to himself or to his uncle that he was crying.

oOo

When he returned home, he waited for the day to pass. Neah passed the time playing the piano in the sitting room, although he wasn't sounding his best. His hands kept trembling as he went over the plan again and again in his mind. If anything were to go wrong, the consequences would be immediate and very severe. There were a few things he would have to take care of first.

Sophia served a dinner of cold soup and a garden salad, which Neah ate sparingly. He couldn't quite work up an appetite, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the heat or if his nerves were to blame. Neah dismissed her for the evening after she cleared the dishes. As soon as he heard her bedroom door shut, Neah went to his room. His bedroom was somewhat messy due to the lack of care over the past week. Dirty clothes sat in a basket by the door waiting to be picked up. Neah had to open the curtains in order to be able to see in the dark room. He found the oak desk on the far side of the wall. This was where he would work on war plans whenever he wasn't at Uncle Adam's room in the Ark. After telling him his story, the man had trusted him with several important documents, documents that he didn't want anyone else to see. He reached into the middle drawer and extracted the copies he had made along with the golden ball containing the ashes of his sheet music. Rolling the plans up, he placed them into a metal tube he had purchased several weeks back when fetching medicine for his mother. This tube along with a basket of food and a violin went into the back of the cart. He pocketed the golden ball. There was only one more thing to pack.

As he expected, Sophia was not asleep when he returned to the house. It seemed as if she had waited for him to leave the main area of the house before reemerging to do her job. Neah put on a pair of black gloves before reaching into the medicine cabinet to extract a bottle of ether. He poured some onto a clean handkerchief before silently creeping out into the foyer. Sophia stood there with her back to him as she mopped. She didn't notice as Neah snuck up behind her and then reached around, covering her nose and mouth with the damp handkerchief. For a moment she stiffened up and tried to turn around, but then Sophia passed out. He caught her before she hit the ground.

After he was certain she wouldn't wake up, he took off her pendant and threw it on the ground next to the abandoned mop. For some reason he put the emerald ring into her apron pocket. Neah carried her carefully out to the cart and laid her in the back.

He led the horse and cart down the back road behind the house. It was a road that he had hardly used, but he'd had it cleared before the wake so that mourners could use it. Neah reached the edge of the property and tied the reigns to a fence post. Next came the tricky part.

Luckily, no one was wandering about when he opened a gateway to the Ark. He quickly walked through the streets of the silent white city before opening another gateway. This one led to a town not five miles from his house. Neah had heard rumors all week of an anarchist rally that would take place in this town tonight. He also knew that the constables had every intention of stopping it.

Sure enough, there were buildings on fire by the time he set foot in the town. He raised the collar on his coat and pulled his hat down. Members of the royal guards and several constables were running about, some blowing whistles. The anarchists had broken up and now ran for their lives to escape flying bullets and the law. Neah snuck around a building to look at the rally point. Several people lay on the ground dead or already dying. He found a burly looking man who was still warm but definitely no longer living and picked him up. Somehow, open yet another gateway and drag him through back to his house. He laid the body down in the kitchen.

Neah laid the man down and switched shoes with the dead anarchist. He opened one more gate and returned to the cart. Walking through the fields past Cornelia and all the dead golden wheat, Neah was careful not to trip. He made it into the house and switched shoes once again. It was time for the finale.

He procured the drum of kerosene that they kept in the kitchen cupboard next to the stove. Neah made a trail from the hallway into the kitchen and then dumped the empty can next to the man. There was a revolver, bullets, and gunpowder in the man's pocket. Taking the gunpowder, Neah poured it out into a pile on the floor in the hallway where the kerosene trail ended. He took a match from the matches that Uncle Tykki gave him earlier in the week and pressed it between the anarchists fingers. Finally, Neah lit the match and dropped it and on the kerosene.

The fire spread quickly, but he was able to open one last gate and return to the cart before it became an inferno. He heard windows shattering behind him and then a loud explosion. Flames licked the outside of the manor through the new holes caused by the gunpowder. Neah, however, had no time to admire his work. He untied the reigns of the horse and snapped them, riding off into the evening.

Sorry that this chapter took so long to write. It's not easy getting in the mind frame, plus I made some minor changes to the original plan of the story. Anyhow, I hadn't originally planned to have Neah make up entirely with his mother. However, I felt that it was fitting given how things are going in the manga and sort of a reflection on my own life. I won't trouble you guys with that, though.

I also realize I'm being a bit of a troll. Haha, never thought I would seriously troll. Unfortunately, I'm saving all the juicy stuff on Uncle Adam for later. Don't worry, you'll all find out eventually. Please review!