How To Process Emotions When Faced With Your Worst Enemy

[Professor Charles]

“You see why I have to keep him,” Morningstar was muttering in the corner, facing Vitus, Marlina and Grimsaine. I could hear him perfectly, and he was making only the most limited attempt to talk quietly.

“Of course, my lord,” Grimsaine replied, softly, eyes on me, “he could be what saves us all.”

“Though I still disagree with the decision I bring him into your small council, sir,” Vitus murmured, “You are correct. He is one particular being you cannot let out of your hold.”

I leant back, staring at the finely patterned, white washed and chandeliered ceiling. Still, I was attached to the thrice-damned chair, and after my exploit Morningstar had dug the chains harder in, so that there was no give at all, just the manacles and the side of the seat. With my legs up on the table I gazed upwards, breathing slowly and counting the seconds go for the time by that we had said we would be back for Selena. So far we were at an hour and fourteen minutes.

“All you said was true?” Hemera whispered.

Glancing down I saw her, fingers wrapped around a mug of tea. She was on the edge of her seat, eyes wide in her pretty features. For a moment I paused, hearing Morningstar respond to his more mortal advisors before I answered her.

“Yes, I am sorry to say I believe it is,” I nodded, “I'm not sure when still, or where the best place to go is, but I believe my research trips will allow that.”

Hemera pursed her lips, before nodding. “I'll persuade Lord Morningstar that they should,” she smiled. “Nyx and I will.”

“I want to get out of here,” I grumbled. “Get back home.”

She smiled slightly, “brother, you're smarter than all of us. You could be the single most important thing that has ever happened to any of us. We could survive an apocalypse because of you … why do you think brother is so passionate about keeping you around?”

“Because of my charming good looks and my excellent sense of humour,” I grinned.

She laughed, “I missed you, brother.”

The last time I had seen her was one my rare exploits out of the underworld of Rahl and into the mortal realms. I had seen her, Nyx and some others, at an impromptu family gathering in a secretive moment Sephora had managed to give me. I had seen Morningstar then as well, but only the back of him, before he moved away and I had had to go, back to my cruelty of a life.

“Where do you live now, on the mortal realm?” I asked.

She smiled. “Not too far away from you actually. Eluceliniel - Nyx and I share a home and manage a few operations within the city for Morningstar. We keep his favour within the court.”

My brows rose as I looked from her to Nyx. My other sister was staring into a glass of wine. When drinks had been offered I politely refused, privately deciding so on grounds that I would look like an idiot, with my hands bound as they were.

“Nyx?” I asked, “you alright?”

She glanced up. “Hmm? Oh,” she stared at me, then shook herself. “Yes, I am fine. Sorry brother.”

“You were staring into space.”

“Oh,” she paused. “I was thinking about Geras actually.”

I glanced back over to Morningstar, who was still talking, although lower now, and staring at me. My eyebrow raised at him, and he paused in his speech, before looking away.

“Geras is strong,” I commented.

Hemera nodded, agreeing. “He is indeed, he'll be fine, Nyx.”

“Do we know anything about his intended … what was her name?”

Keeping my eyes still on Morningstar's conversation, I paused. “Brigette. I …” smiling, I realised I could do something, “I can ask Selena about her.”

Hemera and Nyx began to agree, with small gasps. “Oh that would be a good idea …”

My concentration though had drifted to the other conversation. “Sir, it would be beneficial simply keeping him here, permanently,” Virus was leaning in, speaking in a low voice. “Forget the other work he does.”

“Indeed, sir. He refuses to serve, he refuses to serve. Take back his powers, control him, use him.”

My jaw tightened, heart beginning to thump hard. The magic within me, so long not in my body began to writhe, angry and violent. Swirling at my heart it hissed and growled, telling me that it would not go without a fight. I would not be a slave again.

Morningstar looked over at me with a thoughtful expression. “It is … possible.”

“Fuck this,” I hissed, and I pulled down my feet from the table, letting them land on the floor with a solid thump. I had made a deal with him - my power, and my freedom for teaching, in exchange for helping him. For saving his stupid world, and his idiotic ass.

“Brother …” Hemera said, shocked, her eyes widening.

“I'm fucking going home,” I spat, my hands twisting into fists, “before anyone else controls me. I'm not a fucking puppet and-”

My anger came in a brilliant wave. Rising from my core it responded to my intense, sudden desire it flooded my system, yelling out to me as two lovers long lost, not reunited. Indeed, it had been within me already for some weeks, and I had called onto it when calm, but now my fury summoned it instead of my will. Unexpectedly it rose, the fine black darkness from which I was born, denied to me fully for a thousand years. First, Morté had taken a little. Then, more, and finally he had used his wretches to steal every core of divinity from me until not even my strange empathy, nor my strength. I had been so weak, so invalid, and it had taken me years - years! - to learn how to cope. But now …

Now, I had more power than I had needed. Destruction indeed - unbidden, in a storm of power, it rose to my palms. BOOM! It exploded into life, small black pebbles of magical energy. My eyes widened as I said or willed nothing, and it fled right towards the source of my current anxiety - the restraints.

The sound of chairs rapidly scraping away came from beside me as the magic slid underneath them, going into a liquid state. A second passed. Then there was a SMASH as the unbreakable manacles suddenly burst into a thousand pieces.

“What the-”

I was as much aghast as the rest of them. My heart pounded as I stood there, watching the smashed pieces fall to the ground, and then begin to disintegrate as they did. Fine metal dust floated upwards as I looked down to see still rivulets of fine, black, crackling energy that looked like it opened to a good encircling my wrists - just where the manacles had been. It was blinking out of existence, its purpose spent, as all my magic did. I left out a slow breath, my lips parting, and more importantly it seems, my anger subsiding.

I reached for my magic. It came to me this time at will, bursting out my palms in energy surges. It folded and condescended from my pores, and zoomed into one small ball that landed into my right palm.

The same wrist was caught. Partly I was dragged as he yanked me away from the table, then pulled me around to face him. As shocked as I was he stared at the small, slowly rotating ball of energy at my palm, happily doing nothing.

“That should not have happened …” he murmured.

Folding my fingers around the energy I quickly yanked my hand out of his hold. The rest of the room was dead silent, I was not going to be. On his right palm, I knew, was a feature that looked like a wound. Through it he could steal people's life source, energy and magic, store it for his own use, or give it to others. It was what he had used to at first give me back my abilities. Give me back this oddity that had just struck.

“Char!” he barked.

I glared at him, “I don't know what the fuck just happened, to start. Secondly, you are not taking it from me, I've been too long without it.”

“It's never … done that before?”

I ran my tongue over my lips briefly, and then admittedly shook my head. “No. I was furious, and it just dealt with the matter at hand. Maybe you shouldn't talk so openly about going back on our deals and enslaving me again, like he did.”

“Brother-”

“No. And this time, Morningstar, I'm actually going to defend myself.” I seethed into his face. “You want me to save your multitude of little kingdoms. Fine. I will, but not as you slave. Currently I'd rather die than be what I was. Which was nothing.”

Morningstar's lips pursed as he considered me. Slowly he breathed as around us the world was frozen, a framed painting, a view of one scene of time. I kept the ball of energy in my palm, ready to literally aim it at myself. Even though I'd be awake again in six hours, and in that time he'd be able to do what he wanted, he knew he would have the most reluctant part of me than has ever been.

No more Charon used to being a prisoner. I would be cold, silent, frigid.

“Everyone leave the room,” he said quietly.

“But my lord …”

“Just do it, Vitus,” he barked. “He cannot kill me. I am far more powerful still than he.”

Of that I had no doubt. Steadily, I kept my eyes on him, and him on mine. We heard shuffling of feet, scraping of chairs. A gentle hand touched both of our arms and Hemera simply said:

“You're both my brothers.”

[Professor Charles]

“So,” he said quietly.

I sucked in my breath and turned my eyes away from him. Sliding back a foot I twisted, and began to take a few slow paces away, my hand still an upturned fist.

“Charon, I cannot let you just … be around my halls as you are. These are my people I need to protect.”

“Protect them from me?!” I replied, aghast. “Morn, you certainly don't know me if you think I would hurt them.”

He paused. “Well, I was not sure of your personality anymore when I first found you again. You could have been a mass murderer waiting to happen.”

“Oh it's been tempting, believe me. You're a real dickhead.”

“And since then I have been in your company several times when you have your powers and you have never used them on me,” he was watching me carefully.

I frowned at him, and shrugged. “No. Why would I?”

“To be rid of me. To be free once more.”

“Morningstar the whole empathy thing you don't get … I don't destroy just for the sake of it. My whole purpose was to destroy only what needed to be,” I glanced at my hand still before me. “Like Morté. Damn him being here. I could have ended hiim.”

“You would have failed and pulled us into an unstoppable war,” Morningstar growled. Then he gestured at my hand. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I was silent for a moment before I unfolded my fingers. There lay the globe of power still, small and unmoving, resting into my palm. Frowning a little at it I bent my palm upwards, watching as it stayed, even when the gradient when allow it to roll, were it anything but a ball of energy.

“Charon.”

“Anger. I was angry,” I replied, furrowing my brow as I then willed the ball to rise into the air, and it did. Then it stopped exactly when I said. I removed my hand and it hung there in the air, like a globe of black light. I looked back over to him and saw immense discomfort with his body and his face, so I plucked it from the air.

Turning around to him I folded my arms, the ball still in my clasp. “When your pet Vitus-”

“He's not a pet, and I would ask you not to call him such.”

“When the elf started speaking about taking my power away, reducing me down to nothing, taking away my job, anger built. Everything we had agreed on so far - I was furious. And my anger was directed mainly at what was frustrating me at the time - those lovely little manacles you like to have me in and …” I huffed and unfolded my arms to look at the ball again. “Apparently she has a will of her own when my emotions are high.”

“'She’?” he quoted.

“Well she has a personality now, so,” I stared at her and then looked over at a remaining cup on the great round table. It was metal, seemed to be empty. Twisting my body around to it I paused, before looking at Morningstar. “I'm just aiming for the cup.”

He narrowed his eyes but stepped back. “So your volatile emotions can now affect your power to the point that it can be outwith your control.”

“She's still within my control,” I said, knowing immediately for it to be true. I looked at the cup, and then willed the globe of dark energy to fire from my palm. No sooner had I summoned the thought that it flew out, noiseless and dark, like an arrow from a bow. It collided with the cup and there was a shattering sound as the metal exploded.

I turned back to him as the cup was utterly destroyed, hunks of metal, not burnt or metal, just broken lying on the ground. “I wanted to go home. There was something stopping me. My magic reacted to that, to my desires, because some idiots were saying that they wanted to ruin my life all over again.”

“Ruin your life?” he asked slowly.

“Take away what power I have just gained back. Take away every freedom I've worked for.”

Morningstar folded his arms. “I could still keep you here as a prisoner.”

“But as a slave? Because that's where this is going now, Morn. That is what I will be to you,” I glared at him, pointed at him. “Isn't that one of your 'core laws’. No slavery?”

His lips pursed. “It … is.”

“Yet you want me to still work for you?!” I shook my head, “you're exasperating, and a megalomaniac, only wanting power for yourself.”

“Power in the correct hands, is the term I believe I use …”

“As in, mostly yours.”

“Well someone has to oversee it.” He joked but he was still wary of me, and about what apparently I could now do. Perhaps his manacles had simply not been tough enough - but then after what had happened once in my office when I had easily snapped a chain, I was sure he would have made adjustments. It had been successful thus far.

“I do not trust you,” he said, matter of factly.

“Yet you trust what comes out of my mouth, my research. It's -” I broke off and shook my head, knowing that anything could happen now. He could kill me, still, on the spot, even with my apparent new application to my powers. That way he could see what had gone wrong, take the ability from me, throw me in that cell, cause my entire life I had built to fall apart once again.

I breathed out, looking down with confusion and loss at my hands. I had become a father today, and I had discovered something new in my powers I had never experienced before. Why now? Was it because she and I had been reconnected? Was it a development, a change instigated by Morningstar's strange ways? A mutation perhaps, that had occurred over time, or an adaptation to suit what life I now lived. Being the man who would never bow his head to anyone ever again.

“It seems we need to construct a new deal,” he said quietly.

“Right now, Morningstar,” I looked at him, “I want to go and spend time with my daughter. I've given you all the information I have so far regarding my research - the trips I told you of may bring me more.”

His lips pursed. “When are you going?”

“In two, maybe three weeks,” I shrugged. “Raiaera first. Then I might head north from there, there's a ruin of a temple, possibly connected to Jomil.”

“I might need you,” he said slowly.

“Then come get me politely,” I shrugged, staring at him. “I'll work with you, Morningstar, not for you.” Slightly I smiled, “being your farcical father in law earns me some respect.”

He watched me for a moment, then moved his hand. Out of his pocket he pulled a piece of white quartz, “this will get you home. Not back, however. I'm not giving you the location of this court.”

“Yet,” I replied.

I waited until he held it out, a smile on my lips. My brother looked at me, uncertain, for the first time in his recent existence being encouraged to construct a relationship where he could not be a dictator. One that was mutually beneficial.

When the quartz was close enough to me I reached for it, and smiled briefly to him. “You have your spies anyway around me. That Sandoran Adar for one.”

“Do I have your word you won't go making alliances with others,” he said, holding onto the tail end of the white stone. I tried to pull it from his fingers, but his hold was tight on it. “You won't tell anyone of your research.”

“I will be careful of whom I speak about it with, if that is what you mean,” I replied. “But we are talking of the literal apocalypse here.”

“Yes, and when we have enough information, I will be the one to lead an exodus to safety.”

I shrugged. “Sure. Fine. You can play god, as per the terms of our original agreement.”

“And …”

“And, I won't work with anyone else. Alright?” With that final word he allowed me to wrench the quartz finally from him and I balanced it in my hand, waiting for his final reply.

“Good,” he told me. “If I find out you did …”

“Then I'll spend eternity in your dungeon. I know,” and I curled my fingers around the stone. I poured into it my will, and I was transported away from that place.

I landed in my kitchen, to the scent of sweets and the sound of a boiling kettle. In a small flash of light I appeared, and I heard a small gasp, then saw a figure. She came to about my shoulder, and had silky, long black hair. Pale horns, similar to mine, curled back and slightly upward to the ceiling

“You're back,” she murmured.

Breath rushed out of my lungs. Shaking myself I looked around the kitchen, assessing the stove, the heavy clay sink, and the cupboards. Beyond that was my living room with its many books, the reading chair and where Morningstar had taken me. Where I had begun the short section of this chapter.

“Yes,” I grunted.

“Are you … okay?”

I paused for a moment, and took in a breath. After all she had last seen me being led away in chains.

“I'm fine. I … discovered new things. He took me to his small council, which was different.”

I looked at her, wondering if I should enlighten her about the impending apocalypse. If Morté had known nothing, then it was likely she did also. Naturally, I would protect her come what may, even if that meant never telling her what was going on. In some ways I agreed with my brother's decision to keep the truth of the apocalypse from the masses - what I was discovering, after all, was based on the Calamity, and prophecies that were loosely worded at best. Interpretation of them was a whole art in itself, an one wrong word could mean an entire city destroyed. I had to be certain to avoid mass panic, and keen before I made any rash decisions. Slowly I breathed, and I looked away, my eyes moving to the kettle as I watched it come to the full boil.

“I was wondering while you were … indisposed.”

“Mmm?” I grunted, reaching for mugs.

“Can I …” she smiled slightly. “Can I move in?”

[Professor Charles]

She came over, head bowed and eyes set to the floor, upon Morningstar's arm. As soon as they had come over halfway Morningstar looked over and looked at Geras.

My brother with the scowl grunted. “Wish me luck,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed away from us. With a sigh coming to his lips he began his own way down the dais, eyes on Morningstar. As they came to meet Geras bowed his head before lifting it again and striding over to Morté. My eyes had to dart quickly from group to group as Geras arrived and Morté stood. The King of Death grinned a little and turned from Geras to his many children. He began to speak quietly to him, in a volume we could not hear.

“He will be fine,” Morningstar’s low voice came to our ears. Looking up I saw him coming up to his throne, hand still around that of Selena, who followed behind him. His eyes were on myself, Nyx and Hemera.

“But, brother, my lord …” Hemera anxiously said.

Morningstar shook his head as he finally let go of Selena's hand. He stepped back and addressed her. “Princess Selena, welcome to my court.”

I breathed in long and slow and forced myself to look away, folding my arms. Instead of looking at she who was intended to be my brother's bride, I focused on the patterns in the rich red material beside me. I could hear Morningstar's murmurs as he briefly introduced Selena to them. As our party loosened I began to find an avenue to leave, with the intent of moving to the library.

A soft hand lay on my arm. I looked to see Nyx smiling. “He won't want you to leave yet. They'll be drinks now, I'm sure. Formal toasting, and all that.”

“I'd rather …” I gestured at the door, meaning the cell at the end of the stairs leading from them.

Nyx smiled slightly, “one drink, brother.”

“One,” I growled.

And she nodded, encouragingly.

The groups merged, becoming one. Two kingdoms united through marriage, despite it being a farce on one side. But we would wait well beyond the time when they had left. Geras would be with them, likely now a spy, and Selena would be with Morningstar. Within my limited grasp. I could get to know her, my daughter.

If she was mine.

There I was, awkwardly holding my second goblet of wine. After I had finished one I had attempted to sidle away as a mixture of underworld Rahlians - those of Rahl - mingled with the being of Morningstar's court. But easily my brother had stepped to my side, fakely smiling to others as he subtly took my wrist and brought me back around to face them. He shoved another drink in my hand.

“Not yet, brother,” he whispered.

“I still want to kill him now,” I muttered under my breath. “And I have to wait for that.”

“We made an agreement,” he hissed, and took a couple of steps back into the crowd, taking me with him. “You sat down at my table. Celebrate with me, and then you can go.”

“You're annoying,” I grunted.

And he left me there, letting go of me to join his farcical new allies. Huffing I rejoined as a grumpy scoundrel and rogue, eyeing up Vitus. We exchanged a few looks, and I honestly hoped at one point I would have the chance to fight him.

I ended up on the periphery of the crowd, detailing my own entertainment, but staying. It was safer on the fringes, alone.

“You haven't looked at me once,” the pure, melodic finally sounded beside my ear.

I stilled, the breath rushing from my lungs. I did not move, did not look to her. Because I knew exactly who she was. Instead I glanced around us and made sure no one was watching.

“Selena,” she murmured.

“It wasn't my idea,” I answered in a grunt, bringing my goblet to my lips.

She sighed, slowly. “At least … she'll be protected.”

I swallowed hard, my eyes dropping down and staring into the warm red liquid. Room temperature. Exactly how it should be, and a rich taste.

“... Sephora-”

“Who else knows?” she whispered. “Aside from him and you?”

“The people in the room,” I answered, tapping a finger on the metal of the goblet. My heart beat hard in my chest, threatening to burst out in a flurry of blood and pain. “They … won't say anything. He asked them and they worship him so …”

“Good.” Out of the periphery of my vision I saw her nod once, firmly.

“He said there were others,” I whispered, thumping in my ears. “Others … like me.”

“I've been married to him for thousands of years, Char. What do you think?”

So I wasn't special. Not one tiny bit - our thirty years of romance were just another one of her many affairs, and my one single restbite in my slavery.

It hurt, stung, for a moment. But then it flew away on brief wings, because I had already survived twenty years out of that place, and though my heart still beat for her, and though I still could not look at her, I had somehow limited my care of her. I did not burn every time I thought about her, cried when her name was mentioned. What I thought about most was my daughter that her and I might have together.

“I see,” I breathed.

“You left me, there, with no more allies,” she replied.

“I needed to. And you left me first.”

She rolled her eyes. “To protect our daughter.”

“Oh so she is mine now,” I scowled.

“Stop it, you know what I mean.”

It was my turn to hiss and roll my eyes. Savagely I stared into my goblet, then downed it. The rich taste trickled down my throat, pungent and slightly smokey. Seconds passed as I calmed.

“You'll take care of her?” she asked.

Closing my eyes I nodded, clutching the goblet. “Of course I will.”

There was a sigh of satisfaction from her. “Good. Just keep her safe, and I will do my best to … protect your brother.”

“Geras will be fine,” I said in a low voice. “And I barely know him, really. I haven't much power here, but I will do what I can.”

“Char,” she said softly. “I don't love him, but I have to stay. For my children.”

I opened my eyes to glanced around us. Still, nobody was watching, all of them far enough away to not be interested.

“And I don't care much for my brother, but I have to stay here now. For her.” And for the prospect of bringing Morté down. I watched her from the corner of my eyes but kept my eyes forward.

“And because he got you, didn't he?” she grimaced a little.

“Who do you mean?” I growled.

“Morningstar,” she replied, her eyes dancing over me. “Come on, Char, I know you. You wouldn't willingly be here.”

My lips formed a thin line. “It's not like your darling husband. We made a deal.”

“I am sure. He is the king of deals, but, you still would not be here of your own accord. I know how much you hate … him. Hated what he was doing. You told me every time we-”

She which cut off as one of her children twisted around. She was a tall creature, all blonde and red eyed. Big lipped, a strong jaw and a proud look told me much that I needed to know about this ball-buster. She also happened to be the one that had accepted Geras as hers. Amusement came to my mind as I imagined what sort of relationship they would have. Love would not be on the cards. Duty, would.

“Brigette, dear,” Sephora softly said.

“Mother …” the one called Brigette said, and she gestured to me roughly, “why are you talking to that?”

“And that was why I left,” I hissed at her. Finally I swung around and stared her in the face. I very briefly met her eyes, holding it for a few small moments as my heart thudded, and all those long minutes of resisting her as her gorgeous purple eyes pierced mine and I was lost, so lost in the wonders of the woman I had loved the most. Still loved? Did I? I accepted she had other lovers easily, but did I still love her?

“Mother …?” Brigette murmured, shocked.

The woman was fully turned around to me. Our hearts beat in succession, our eyes locked. Together we breathed, together we thought, together we dreamed what could have been had she never gotten pregnant. Perhaps we could have ended Morté on our own and ruled, and I could have been as powerful as Morningstar …

No. No, I was not a ruler.

Furiously, I tore my eyes away. Twisting around I moved roughly past her daughter, who stared at me in stunned silence. And there were others, but it seemed they had not heard anything, they only saw as raised eyebrows and confusion came my way. Heavily I shoved my empty goblet onto a table and began to march out of the group.

Spying my brother I made for him, as he stood saying nothing next to his equally still and silent fiancé. Appearing beside him I made him gasp slightly, surprised.

“Can I go now?” I hissed at him, as quietly as I could.

Twice he blinked, and Selena brought a surprised look to her face. He took me in slowly, then looked me up and down with a frown.

“And you could have been so much better,” he curled his lip, flourished a hand. “Go then.”

I didn't care how long I might be there. I only wanted to get out of there. Striding with strength I left as fast, but as strongly as I could. Through the library, down the stairs, into the dungeon. There was no one with me, but I walked in anyway, right into the cell waiting for me, the door open.

I slammed it closed after myself.

[Breaker]

Thread Title: How To Process Emotions When Faced With Your Worst Enemy
Type: Basic Rewards

Professor Charles receives 2100 EXP and 300 GP

Congratulations!

[Breaker]

Rewards added.

Professor Charles reaches Level 2!