Immediately as soon as the cuff had settled the furthest it would go, tiny metal chains - not laces this time but chains - merged themselves from the gap that was between the ends of the cuff and wound their way through holes that had not existed before. Pulling the cuff tight around her wrist it lashed itself, pressing into feathers and flesh as it had done so before.
No sooner had it been done than the familiar heavy presence set itself against her mind, like a sudden wind that failed to die. Stare closed her eyes and inwardly sighed before opening herself once more, onto the relationship that was.
He came like a flood, like water that had been desperate to flow for a long time but had not been able to because of some crude and dangerous foe. Washing over every surface thought she had he became a fog, a thick and dense substance that settled as if home. Audibly, she heard him sigh as it flattened against her identity.
"Good," he whispered.
Good.
A shiver ran down her spine but she tried to ignore it. The feeling of depression threatened to overhwhelm her and make her feel less than she was. But she was not going to have any of it. Instead she raced to summon every memory she had of the past five days and threw them at the mist of his person. All the silence, the blindfolded darkness, the pain and the sneering of her guards. The hope of Nevin, the daring escape, the daunting propsect as the mage had murmured "his brother." All this she threw madly like a hailstorm at Vitruvion, shoving the truth in his face that he could not deny. Explaining the reasons why she was who she was, what and happened. Why she had been found that way ...
The fog drifted, lifting up to form a cohesive force, that simply watched the memories being thrown at him. Scene by scene he wordlessly saw the truth of what had occurred - the panic when she had realised she could no longer feel his presence, the fear of him that she had gone through at his possible anger, on the discovery the cuff had entirely gone. He shifted through her thoughts of escape, leaving everyone she knew and running to the hills with mild amusement, before he sank into concentration on the fight out of the captivity.
When it came to her direct combat with the mage he pushed his essence more, showing signs of strong interest. As the conversation went on, and the struggles between her and the mage, the fantastic way that Nevin had saved her life, Vitruvion kept intensely watching. The concept shifted as the mage was then questioned, and he gave up the few words that made her panic:
"M-m-my master - a being approached my master, and asked for help in getting vengeance on his brother. Said.... Said his brother was reaching too far, interfering too much in mortal affairs."
All of a sudden the presence was gone from her mind. Pulled out, like a bandage from a badly treated wound. Flickering open her eyes Stare paused, then with a rush of confusion at his exit turned, to look right at him.
He was gazing off into the distance, brow furrowed low and his chest heaving up and down. His lips were parted, his eyes wide and Stare could have imagined ... She thought she saw ... But it wasn't possible. How could the god be ... Worried?
The first instinct (and she hated herself when she realised what it was) was concern. Twisting onto her knees she properly faced Vitruvion and focused her eyes.
He was dead silent. And did not look at her.
"Ehhh ...?" She murmured. "What's ...?"
He held up a hand quickly, palm out. Automatically she fell to quiet, head tilting to the side. "What?" She mouthed.
"I am talking to Ventrua," he explained in a rapid, irritated tone.
Irritated because she was talking.
Stare grunted in the back of her throat. But did not interrupt. She had finally convinced him of the importance of the situation, and thus she was not impatient anymore.
Dullness continued for several more minutes. She found herself running an uncomfortable hand over the cuff, now back in place. Looking down at it she shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, then sank slightly. A sigh escaped the sides of her beak, as time passed and her fate and future came back to her.
"Stare."
Quickly she looked back up when her name was called. He was back looking at her, eyes focused again. His expression was serious and determined, set.
"Neither I nor Ventrua know of any brother I might have, whole or otherwise who might be here. Either the mage you met was contacted by a half-sibling of ours across the region of space, or there is another child of Ansaldo here. Without our knowledge."
Stare blinked slowly. A lump formed in her throat.
"A brother who apparently disapproves of my ... 'interferences in mortal affairs'."
He set his jaw.
"I know from Ansaldo's memories that I am the only full child. Therefore he is half mortal, therefore I can defeat him. Our purpose is to now find him, and kill him. Do you understand?"
Stare gazed at him, and blinked again. This other brother had contacts. Enough power to be able to break the magic of her cuff and possibly release her. Maybe he even had enough power, collectively with his allies that she could be free and -
"They will do exactly the same as I have done," Vitruvion replied, finishing her thoughts. "Remember my powers have grown also since we have met. They would take you, keep you and probably, in all fairness, treat you worse than I have. Your loyalty lies with me, my dear," he looked utterly serious, and his voice was sure, "Make no doubt of that. So long as you serve me well, I will treat you well."
She began to open her beak to reply but he shook his head and reached out to touch the underside of it. Gentle. Caressing. Purposeful.
"I am a god," he said quietly, his eyes full of endless stars. "And you are my eyes."
