[Infinity's End] The Break of Day 01-10
Jun. 10th, 2011 05:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonThanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
azardarkstar for the beta work!
Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
March 22nd, 1979
Kieran hummed under his breath as he hurried to Azriel's house. Some might say he was skipping, but well, Kieran wasn't going to call it that. In his hands, he clutched a carefully wrapped package, a gift from his mother to Azriel. They weren't snickerdoodles, but they were still a dozen delicious cookies that Kieran was willing to share because it was Azriel.
Rounding the corner, Azriel's house came into view, barely visible behind the new growth of flowers and blossoms that decorated his fence and front garden. It made for a very inviting, homey appearance. Miss Neorah's doing no doubt, and another fantastic sign that spring was very much underway.
Inviting himself through the gate, Kieran headed to the front door and knocked loudly. Azriel wasn't exactly expecting him, so this visit was a surprise. If Azriel ended up being at work today – a beautiful Saturday, the shame! –Kieran wouldn’t be very happy.
Miss Neorah answered the door, smiling as she saw him and stepping aside in plain invitation. “Good afternoon, Kieran. How are you today?”
“Great!” he replied, moving inside so she could close the door. “Azriel's here, isn't he?”
Miss Neorah sighed, but it was one of humor rather than ill patience. “Much to his displeasure, yes,” she said with a shake of her head. “That boy seems to think that if he's not working, the universe is somehow out of balance.”
Kieran chuckled. “So I've noticed.” He lifted his bag and pushed it Miss Neorah's direction. “My mother made these. I thought I'd share.”
“Thank you.” She took the bag and peered into the depths, nose scrunching as she tried to identify the contents. “Lemon bars?”
He grinned. “Yep! So where's Azriel?”
Turning down the hallway, Miss Neorah tucked the bag under her arm. “In the drawing room, working on another one of his projects. I'm sure he won't mind a distraction.”
“Then, I'll be sure to provide one,” Kieran shot back with another grin and took off down the hall, having become perfectly familiar with Azriel's house.
It wasn't big, six rooms at the most. Two bedrooms, a bathing room, a kitchen, a main room, and the drawing room. It had nothing on the palatial mansion that Kieran lived in, but frankly, he preferred Azriel's house. It was comfortable, homey, felt actually lived-in. Nothing like his own place, where most of the rooms sat empty and the ceilings were so high that voices echoed.
Shaking his head, Kieran arrived at the door to the drawing room and found it open. He peeked inside, taking in the half-dozen shelves lining the walls – packed to the brim with books. The window on the far end was open, curtains drawn back. Azriel was seated at the desk, papers and books spread across in front of him, his back to the door. He was actually slouching, which amused Kieran greatly, because it was rare to see Azriel less than completely put together. He tended to cling to propriety and sit up stick straight, no matter the situation.
Lips quirking at the sight, Kieran crept as quietly as he could into the room, and once Azriel was within reach, he pounced. He pressed against Azriel's back and the chair and covered Azriel's eyes with his hands.
“Guess who?” he called out cheerfully, right into Azriel's ear.
To the other teen’s credit, he didn't startle at Kieran's sudden appearance.
There was a soft sigh.
“There’s but one person I know who has so little shame,” Azriel said, sounding more amused than annoyed. He turned in his chair, Kieran's hands sliding down to his shoulders. “Good afternoon.”
He pouted – no, not a pout!
“That's not how you play the game,” Kieran countered and backed away, giving Azriel room to breathe a little.
Azriel made a pleasant sound. “I've never been good at games,” he replied and gestured toward the chairs scattered around the room – preferably the one not stacked with books or papers. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I was bored,” Kieran answered with a shrug. “And if not for me, you'd spent your entire life pent up in one room or another.” He glanced at Azriel shrewdly. “You need to get out more.”
“So you keep telling me.” One of Azriel's hands remained on the desk, and his fingers tapped quietly over the papers.
“What are you working on?”
The brunet lifted and dropped his shoulders. “Bits and pieces of things. I have a project due for next week, and Lord Adair asked that I transcribe several historical documents last week. I hadn't had time to get to them yet.”
“That last bit sounds like work, which should be done when you're at work, yes?” Kieran arched a brow.
Azriel's gaze shifted away, a clear sign that he knew he'd been caught. “It needs to be done.”
“And you need to take a break,” the younger teen said, getting up again and deftly inserting himself between Azriel and the desk.
Azriel nearly glared up at him. “Kieran.”
“Don't take that tone with me.” He lifted a hand, wagging a finger. “I'm not your subordinate, and you're certainly not my mother,” Kieran stated. “Not even if I squint.”
He watched as the edges of Azriel's lips twitched, a sure sign that he was amused and trying to hide it. “Very well,” Azriel allowed, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms in his lap. “What do you suggest I do?”
“Today is a holiday, isn't it?” Kieran gestured vaguely. “Isn't there something special and perhaps illegal that can be done to celebrate it?”
To be more precise, today was Ostara, a holiday not recognized by His Holiness or those in power in Meropis. It was purely a commoner holiday, and even then, only in the outlying villages with no direct connection to the main city. Kieran only knew of it thanks to the book of stories that Azriel had given him on his birthday.
Kieran had read it cover to cover twice already, each time learning something new and exciting. But only when in the safety of his lab where no one else dared tread. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that just possessing the book would get him into trouble, much less being caught reading it. Besides, Gwydion could answer his questions when Azriel wasn't around to be pestered.
His friend arched a brow. “Are you referring to Ostara?”
“The waking of the dawn,” Kieran recited from memory. He might not like history very much, but he had to admit, those stories stuck with him. “You celebrate it, don't you?”
It stood to reason that if Azriel honored Samhain, then he would honor this, too. At least, Kieran hoped so. He liked it when Azriel shared these things.
Kieran set his palms on the desk behind him and hitched himself upward, planting down on the desk and all the papers Azriel had strewn across it, as though to better keep his friend away from work. They couldn't be that important; otherwise, Azriel would have kicked him out already. So really, Kieran was doing him a favor.
Azriel rose to his feet. “If you're asking do I recognize the significance of Ostara, then yes. As for whether there's a special ceremony, the answer is yes and no.” He stepped up to his desk, trying to rescue some of his documents.
Refusing to move, if only to watch Azriel get flustered, Kieran sunk down. “What does that mean?”
Another sigh left Azriel's lips as he gave his papers up for a loss. He fixed Kieran with a look.
“It’s a tradition better celebrated by children.”
“Your point?”
Azriel shook his head. “Yes, you're right. I've forgotten who I'm speaking to.” He turned toward the doorway, gesturing for Kieran to follow him. “We'll need the kitchen.”
Grinning, Kieran slid off the desk – paper fluttering off in his wake and making a mess of the floor – and followed after Azriel.
“Why?”
“To decorate eggs, of course,” Miss Neorah answered, voice carrying down the hallway where she must have overheard the two of them.
She then stepped out of the kitchen, coming into full view. A bowl of something was cradled in her arm as she stirred it with a wooden spoon.
“At least, I assume that's the tradition Azriel intends and not the other, lesser known custom.” Mischief shone in her eyes.
Kieran whirled toward Azriel, planting his hands on his hips. “What lesser known custom?”
To his surprise, a hint of scarlet rose in Azriel's cheeks. “One that we're not going to perform,” he said hastily and pushed past both his mother and Kieran, heading into the kitchen. “It celebrates the arrival of spring and new life and is not something to be regarded in public.”
It was hardly enough to sate Kieran's curiosity. He huffed as he furrowed his brow, trying to remember what the book said about Ostara. He did vaguely remember that the holiday was in celebration of a deity of fertility – was it Ceres? And as Azriel said, it was a celebration of the onset of spring, a time of renewal and beginnings.
“Fine,” Kieran conceded, letting it drop for now. He could probably get Miss Neorah to tell him the truth later. Or Gwydion even, if Azriel was so darned embarrassed about it. “What are we doing in the kitchen again?”
“Decorating eggs,” Miss Neorah inserted before Azriel could speak, following after them as she stirred whatever was in her bowl. Kieran hoped it was strawberry cake.
“Why?”
“Because it's tradition, just like you wanted,” Azriel answered, opening cabinets and pulling out various pieces of cookware including a large pot and metal tongs. He also produced a half-dozen drinking glasses from a nearby cabinet, setting them all on the large table in the middle of the kitchen.
“And when you're done, I can hide them for you,” Miss Neorah added. That mischievous look was in her eyes once again as she stopped stirring whatever was in the bowl and moved past Azriel, toward a pan that was sitting on the counter near the oven.
“That's not necessary, mother,” Azriel replied, looking embarrassed once again as he cut his eyes to Kieran.
Pulling up a chair at the table, Kieran watched the two interact with interest, always amused by banter between mother and son. “Why would you hide them?”
“To find, of course,” Miss Neorah replied cheerfully, pouring the batter into the cake pan and raising Kieran's hopes. “Some of the eggs will even be disposable toys filled with candies or coins.”
Kieran's eyes lit up. That was just the sort of inane, pointless entertainment that his childhood had been lacking. How could he have not known of this before?
“Really?” he asked eagerly. “What about the eggs we decorate?”
“Those will be hard-boiled,” Azriel replied with the air of one long-suffering as he arranged various supplies on the table. “And therefore safe to eat.”
Kieran nodded, fingers tapping the table. “Why eggs though?”
“They are a symbol of rebirth.” Azriel spoke absently, half-recitation, as he filled the huge pot with water and set it over the fire to boil. Which, judging by the amount of water inside, would take quite some time. “One simple enough for children to understand.”
“And why are they decorated?”
Miss Neorah chuckled. “Because it’s fun, Kieran.” One hand lifted, carefully sweeping hair out of her face. “Luckily, Meropis considers this tiny tradition harmless. You won't find many nobles, if any truth be told, participating. But it's quite common in Moriarty.”
It seemed there were a lot of things Kieran was missing as a member of the Azura family. It was as if there were a whole other world out there and he'd never noticed.
“You will hide them for us, right?” Kieran grinned.
“Kieran.”
Miss Neorah patted her son on the shoulder. “Let him have some fun, dear,” she said and curled her lips in a gentle smile at Kieran. “I'll hide them overnight. You can look for them in the morning.”
Kieran raised his hands in a cheer before he could stop himself. He couldn't even explain why he was so excited, just that he was.
Azriel rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the smile that curled the corner of his lips.
o0o0o
April 30th, 1979
He was supposed to be studying.
He was, in fact, sitting at his desk with various books and papers spread out in front of him. He had a plate of necessary snacks at hand, and a quill clutched in his fingers. Azriel had everything conducive to good studying, but it wasn't happening. Not right now.
He could blame this fact on Kieran, but really, this was all Azriel's fault. He could have turned Kieran away at the door, but he hadn't done it. Azriel wasn't even sure why.
Never mind that Monday would bring the first among a string of intensive finals which would decide Azriel's fate. Whether or not he would graduate depended on the results of his examinations, half of them based on the opinion of his teacher, no matter what knowledge his brain had managed to soak up. Azriel had also brilliantly undertaken the task of attending more classes than was necessary for graduation, so he had more exams than his fellow students.
Most of the classes required review. Azriel was certain he understood the material, but he didn't trust that some of his instructors wouldn't pull a question from some vague footnote or pictorial anecdote. Holmes was notorious for using that method on his rare written exams.
Azriel sighed and bent over his books again, staring at them with a determined focus, reading the same material over and over until it was ingrained within him. He refused to prove the naysayers right by failing. He would pass, he would graduate, and he would do it with the highest marks possible. Azriel would accept nothing less.
He focused on his history book, the most appealing of his courses, and flipped to the next chapter. He skimmed the material regarding the creation of Meropis and its supposedly grand design, when a footnote caught his attention. Why hadn't he noticed it before?
According to this book – the standard text of their history as approved and decided by the Council – Meropis was founded centuries ago. That the ruling body considered the city the epitome of civilization was nothing new, but this particular text was declaring Meropis to be the first and only bastion of society and culture in all of Talemar.
Manah had told him enough that Azriel knew this wasn't true. There had been a city long before Meropis, occupied by human and spirit alike, and it had far outstripped Meropis in culture and magic, as well as technology.
That it was little more than a ruin now was also truth. What had caused this great city to perish, Manah had not explained to him yet. A great sadness filled her eyes, which made Azriel reluctant to delve into the painful history. But his curiosity remained, and now, he wanted to know.
For the ruling council and His Holiness to outright lie to their people was nothing new to Azriel either. No student reading these texts would be able to catch the discrepancy. Only someone who had spent time conversing with the “demonic” forest spirits would be able to recognize the falsity for what it was.
Azriel bit back a sigh.
He should be used to these little discoveries by now, but somehow, uncovering the heaps of lies that Grayshire had been feeding to the masses all these years was getting more and more difficult to bear. Perhaps it was time he took a closer look at everything he read, not just his textbooks, but the historical documents that were part of his job as well.
Pushing away from his desk, Azriel worked his shoulders trying to ease the kinks out of them. Something in his neck made a discomfiting sound, and he reached up, feeling for what was certain to be a muscle spasm. However, a pair of hands found their mark before he could, and Azriel blinked as talented fingers worked into his sore muscles.
“I'm not surprised you're sore,” Kieran said as Azriel fought back a groan, melting under the firm touch that worked out every knot in his upper back and shoulders. “I swear you haven't moved for an hour.”
“You could benefit from a little studying yourself,” Azriel replied, closing his eyes and surrendering to sensation. How in the world had Kieran gotten so good at this?
Kieran snorted. “Nah. It's more fun to wing it.”
Somehow, Azriel wasn't surprised. It seemed more Kieran's style than to hunker down over books and notes and engrave things to memory. After all, Azriel was the boring one.
“Besides,” Kieran added, thumbs digging into the tight muscle at the base of Azriel's neck and eliciting a deep-throated groan despite his efforts to keep it contained. “I'm not the one who has finals.”
The older boy inclined his head. “Thank you for the reminder.”
“Don't tense back up. Geez. You’re ruining all my hard work.” Kieran squeezed his fingers.
“And I very much appreciate it,” Azriel said, letting himself relax under Kieran's ministrations. “You can't possibly be entertained though.”
“Is that your subtle way of asking me to leave?” his friend asked, but there was humor in his voice. He was teasing, not truly offended.
Azriel shook his head. “No. I simply plan on studying all night, and I didn't want you to feel abandoned.”
“I knew all that before I came over.”
“Then why did you?” Not that Azriel was complaining per se, but he did know that Kieran wasn't fond of being bored.
Behind him, Kieran shrugged. “I wanted to.”
Azriel blinked. He honestly didn't know what to say in response to that. Kieran said it so frankly, as though spending time with Azriel in a comfortable silence was more entertaining than getting up to mischief with Tegan or sneaking liquor with Isley.
Kieran gave a final squeeze to Azriel's shoulders. “There,” he put in with a friendly pat. “Now, you should be good for another three hours or more.”
“Thank you,” Azriel said, mind still dumbly focused on Kieran's simple admission.
The scientist grinned at him. “Anytime.”
He stepped back, and Azriel glanced over his shoulder, watching as Kieran flopped onto his bed as though he belonged there, reaching for something he had set on the nightstand earlier. It was the book Azriel had given him for his birthday, one of the pages carefully marked by a colorful drawing that Isley had done.
Azriel smiled at the sight before forcing himself to turn back to his studying. He had exams to pass after all.
It was time to get back to work.
*****
a/n: Ah, they are adorable. I can't help but love writing them. Next time will bring an update of Whispers of Yesterday, then it will be back to our regularly scheduled Break of Day.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it!
azardarkstar for the beta work! Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
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Part One: Chapter Ten
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Part One: Chapter Ten
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March 22nd, 1979
Kieran hummed under his breath as he hurried to Azriel's house. Some might say he was skipping, but well, Kieran wasn't going to call it that. In his hands, he clutched a carefully wrapped package, a gift from his mother to Azriel. They weren't snickerdoodles, but they were still a dozen delicious cookies that Kieran was willing to share because it was Azriel.
Rounding the corner, Azriel's house came into view, barely visible behind the new growth of flowers and blossoms that decorated his fence and front garden. It made for a very inviting, homey appearance. Miss Neorah's doing no doubt, and another fantastic sign that spring was very much underway.
Inviting himself through the gate, Kieran headed to the front door and knocked loudly. Azriel wasn't exactly expecting him, so this visit was a surprise. If Azriel ended up being at work today – a beautiful Saturday, the shame! –Kieran wouldn’t be very happy.
Miss Neorah answered the door, smiling as she saw him and stepping aside in plain invitation. “Good afternoon, Kieran. How are you today?”
“Great!” he replied, moving inside so she could close the door. “Azriel's here, isn't he?”
Miss Neorah sighed, but it was one of humor rather than ill patience. “Much to his displeasure, yes,” she said with a shake of her head. “That boy seems to think that if he's not working, the universe is somehow out of balance.”
Kieran chuckled. “So I've noticed.” He lifted his bag and pushed it Miss Neorah's direction. “My mother made these. I thought I'd share.”
“Thank you.” She took the bag and peered into the depths, nose scrunching as she tried to identify the contents. “Lemon bars?”
He grinned. “Yep! So where's Azriel?”
Turning down the hallway, Miss Neorah tucked the bag under her arm. “In the drawing room, working on another one of his projects. I'm sure he won't mind a distraction.”
“Then, I'll be sure to provide one,” Kieran shot back with another grin and took off down the hall, having become perfectly familiar with Azriel's house.
It wasn't big, six rooms at the most. Two bedrooms, a bathing room, a kitchen, a main room, and the drawing room. It had nothing on the palatial mansion that Kieran lived in, but frankly, he preferred Azriel's house. It was comfortable, homey, felt actually lived-in. Nothing like his own place, where most of the rooms sat empty and the ceilings were so high that voices echoed.
Shaking his head, Kieran arrived at the door to the drawing room and found it open. He peeked inside, taking in the half-dozen shelves lining the walls – packed to the brim with books. The window on the far end was open, curtains drawn back. Azriel was seated at the desk, papers and books spread across in front of him, his back to the door. He was actually slouching, which amused Kieran greatly, because it was rare to see Azriel less than completely put together. He tended to cling to propriety and sit up stick straight, no matter the situation.
Lips quirking at the sight, Kieran crept as quietly as he could into the room, and once Azriel was within reach, he pounced. He pressed against Azriel's back and the chair and covered Azriel's eyes with his hands.
“Guess who?” he called out cheerfully, right into Azriel's ear.
To the other teen’s credit, he didn't startle at Kieran's sudden appearance.
There was a soft sigh.
“There’s but one person I know who has so little shame,” Azriel said, sounding more amused than annoyed. He turned in his chair, Kieran's hands sliding down to his shoulders. “Good afternoon.”
He pouted – no, not a pout!
“That's not how you play the game,” Kieran countered and backed away, giving Azriel room to breathe a little.
Azriel made a pleasant sound. “I've never been good at games,” he replied and gestured toward the chairs scattered around the room – preferably the one not stacked with books or papers. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I was bored,” Kieran answered with a shrug. “And if not for me, you'd spent your entire life pent up in one room or another.” He glanced at Azriel shrewdly. “You need to get out more.”
“So you keep telling me.” One of Azriel's hands remained on the desk, and his fingers tapped quietly over the papers.
“What are you working on?”
The brunet lifted and dropped his shoulders. “Bits and pieces of things. I have a project due for next week, and Lord Adair asked that I transcribe several historical documents last week. I hadn't had time to get to them yet.”
“That last bit sounds like work, which should be done when you're at work, yes?” Kieran arched a brow.
Azriel's gaze shifted away, a clear sign that he knew he'd been caught. “It needs to be done.”
“And you need to take a break,” the younger teen said, getting up again and deftly inserting himself between Azriel and the desk.
Azriel nearly glared up at him. “Kieran.”
“Don't take that tone with me.” He lifted a hand, wagging a finger. “I'm not your subordinate, and you're certainly not my mother,” Kieran stated. “Not even if I squint.”
He watched as the edges of Azriel's lips twitched, a sure sign that he was amused and trying to hide it. “Very well,” Azriel allowed, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms in his lap. “What do you suggest I do?”
“Today is a holiday, isn't it?” Kieran gestured vaguely. “Isn't there something special and perhaps illegal that can be done to celebrate it?”
To be more precise, today was Ostara, a holiday not recognized by His Holiness or those in power in Meropis. It was purely a commoner holiday, and even then, only in the outlying villages with no direct connection to the main city. Kieran only knew of it thanks to the book of stories that Azriel had given him on his birthday.
Kieran had read it cover to cover twice already, each time learning something new and exciting. But only when in the safety of his lab where no one else dared tread. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that just possessing the book would get him into trouble, much less being caught reading it. Besides, Gwydion could answer his questions when Azriel wasn't around to be pestered.
His friend arched a brow. “Are you referring to Ostara?”
“The waking of the dawn,” Kieran recited from memory. He might not like history very much, but he had to admit, those stories stuck with him. “You celebrate it, don't you?”
It stood to reason that if Azriel honored Samhain, then he would honor this, too. At least, Kieran hoped so. He liked it when Azriel shared these things.
Kieran set his palms on the desk behind him and hitched himself upward, planting down on the desk and all the papers Azriel had strewn across it, as though to better keep his friend away from work. They couldn't be that important; otherwise, Azriel would have kicked him out already. So really, Kieran was doing him a favor.
Azriel rose to his feet. “If you're asking do I recognize the significance of Ostara, then yes. As for whether there's a special ceremony, the answer is yes and no.” He stepped up to his desk, trying to rescue some of his documents.
Refusing to move, if only to watch Azriel get flustered, Kieran sunk down. “What does that mean?”
Another sigh left Azriel's lips as he gave his papers up for a loss. He fixed Kieran with a look.
“It’s a tradition better celebrated by children.”
“Your point?”
Azriel shook his head. “Yes, you're right. I've forgotten who I'm speaking to.” He turned toward the doorway, gesturing for Kieran to follow him. “We'll need the kitchen.”
Grinning, Kieran slid off the desk – paper fluttering off in his wake and making a mess of the floor – and followed after Azriel.
“Why?”
“To decorate eggs, of course,” Miss Neorah answered, voice carrying down the hallway where she must have overheard the two of them.
She then stepped out of the kitchen, coming into full view. A bowl of something was cradled in her arm as she stirred it with a wooden spoon.
“At least, I assume that's the tradition Azriel intends and not the other, lesser known custom.” Mischief shone in her eyes.
Kieran whirled toward Azriel, planting his hands on his hips. “What lesser known custom?”
To his surprise, a hint of scarlet rose in Azriel's cheeks. “One that we're not going to perform,” he said hastily and pushed past both his mother and Kieran, heading into the kitchen. “It celebrates the arrival of spring and new life and is not something to be regarded in public.”
It was hardly enough to sate Kieran's curiosity. He huffed as he furrowed his brow, trying to remember what the book said about Ostara. He did vaguely remember that the holiday was in celebration of a deity of fertility – was it Ceres? And as Azriel said, it was a celebration of the onset of spring, a time of renewal and beginnings.
“Fine,” Kieran conceded, letting it drop for now. He could probably get Miss Neorah to tell him the truth later. Or Gwydion even, if Azriel was so darned embarrassed about it. “What are we doing in the kitchen again?”
“Decorating eggs,” Miss Neorah inserted before Azriel could speak, following after them as she stirred whatever was in her bowl. Kieran hoped it was strawberry cake.
“Why?”
“Because it's tradition, just like you wanted,” Azriel answered, opening cabinets and pulling out various pieces of cookware including a large pot and metal tongs. He also produced a half-dozen drinking glasses from a nearby cabinet, setting them all on the large table in the middle of the kitchen.
“And when you're done, I can hide them for you,” Miss Neorah added. That mischievous look was in her eyes once again as she stopped stirring whatever was in the bowl and moved past Azriel, toward a pan that was sitting on the counter near the oven.
“That's not necessary, mother,” Azriel replied, looking embarrassed once again as he cut his eyes to Kieran.
Pulling up a chair at the table, Kieran watched the two interact with interest, always amused by banter between mother and son. “Why would you hide them?”
“To find, of course,” Miss Neorah replied cheerfully, pouring the batter into the cake pan and raising Kieran's hopes. “Some of the eggs will even be disposable toys filled with candies or coins.”
Kieran's eyes lit up. That was just the sort of inane, pointless entertainment that his childhood had been lacking. How could he have not known of this before?
“Really?” he asked eagerly. “What about the eggs we decorate?”
“Those will be hard-boiled,” Azriel replied with the air of one long-suffering as he arranged various supplies on the table. “And therefore safe to eat.”
Kieran nodded, fingers tapping the table. “Why eggs though?”
“They are a symbol of rebirth.” Azriel spoke absently, half-recitation, as he filled the huge pot with water and set it over the fire to boil. Which, judging by the amount of water inside, would take quite some time. “One simple enough for children to understand.”
“And why are they decorated?”
Miss Neorah chuckled. “Because it’s fun, Kieran.” One hand lifted, carefully sweeping hair out of her face. “Luckily, Meropis considers this tiny tradition harmless. You won't find many nobles, if any truth be told, participating. But it's quite common in Moriarty.”
It seemed there were a lot of things Kieran was missing as a member of the Azura family. It was as if there were a whole other world out there and he'd never noticed.
“You will hide them for us, right?” Kieran grinned.
“Kieran.”
Miss Neorah patted her son on the shoulder. “Let him have some fun, dear,” she said and curled her lips in a gentle smile at Kieran. “I'll hide them overnight. You can look for them in the morning.”
Kieran raised his hands in a cheer before he could stop himself. He couldn't even explain why he was so excited, just that he was.
Azriel rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the smile that curled the corner of his lips.
April 30th, 1979
He was supposed to be studying.
He was, in fact, sitting at his desk with various books and papers spread out in front of him. He had a plate of necessary snacks at hand, and a quill clutched in his fingers. Azriel had everything conducive to good studying, but it wasn't happening. Not right now.
He could blame this fact on Kieran, but really, this was all Azriel's fault. He could have turned Kieran away at the door, but he hadn't done it. Azriel wasn't even sure why.
Never mind that Monday would bring the first among a string of intensive finals which would decide Azriel's fate. Whether or not he would graduate depended on the results of his examinations, half of them based on the opinion of his teacher, no matter what knowledge his brain had managed to soak up. Azriel had also brilliantly undertaken the task of attending more classes than was necessary for graduation, so he had more exams than his fellow students.
Most of the classes required review. Azriel was certain he understood the material, but he didn't trust that some of his instructors wouldn't pull a question from some vague footnote or pictorial anecdote. Holmes was notorious for using that method on his rare written exams.
Azriel sighed and bent over his books again, staring at them with a determined focus, reading the same material over and over until it was ingrained within him. He refused to prove the naysayers right by failing. He would pass, he would graduate, and he would do it with the highest marks possible. Azriel would accept nothing less.
He focused on his history book, the most appealing of his courses, and flipped to the next chapter. He skimmed the material regarding the creation of Meropis and its supposedly grand design, when a footnote caught his attention. Why hadn't he noticed it before?
According to this book – the standard text of their history as approved and decided by the Council – Meropis was founded centuries ago. That the ruling body considered the city the epitome of civilization was nothing new, but this particular text was declaring Meropis to be the first and only bastion of society and culture in all of Talemar.
Manah had told him enough that Azriel knew this wasn't true. There had been a city long before Meropis, occupied by human and spirit alike, and it had far outstripped Meropis in culture and magic, as well as technology.
That it was little more than a ruin now was also truth. What had caused this great city to perish, Manah had not explained to him yet. A great sadness filled her eyes, which made Azriel reluctant to delve into the painful history. But his curiosity remained, and now, he wanted to know.
For the ruling council and His Holiness to outright lie to their people was nothing new to Azriel either. No student reading these texts would be able to catch the discrepancy. Only someone who had spent time conversing with the “demonic” forest spirits would be able to recognize the falsity for what it was.
Azriel bit back a sigh.
He should be used to these little discoveries by now, but somehow, uncovering the heaps of lies that Grayshire had been feeding to the masses all these years was getting more and more difficult to bear. Perhaps it was time he took a closer look at everything he read, not just his textbooks, but the historical documents that were part of his job as well.
Pushing away from his desk, Azriel worked his shoulders trying to ease the kinks out of them. Something in his neck made a discomfiting sound, and he reached up, feeling for what was certain to be a muscle spasm. However, a pair of hands found their mark before he could, and Azriel blinked as talented fingers worked into his sore muscles.
“I'm not surprised you're sore,” Kieran said as Azriel fought back a groan, melting under the firm touch that worked out every knot in his upper back and shoulders. “I swear you haven't moved for an hour.”
“You could benefit from a little studying yourself,” Azriel replied, closing his eyes and surrendering to sensation. How in the world had Kieran gotten so good at this?
Kieran snorted. “Nah. It's more fun to wing it.”
Somehow, Azriel wasn't surprised. It seemed more Kieran's style than to hunker down over books and notes and engrave things to memory. After all, Azriel was the boring one.
“Besides,” Kieran added, thumbs digging into the tight muscle at the base of Azriel's neck and eliciting a deep-throated groan despite his efforts to keep it contained. “I'm not the one who has finals.”
The older boy inclined his head. “Thank you for the reminder.”
“Don't tense back up. Geez. You’re ruining all my hard work.” Kieran squeezed his fingers.
“And I very much appreciate it,” Azriel said, letting himself relax under Kieran's ministrations. “You can't possibly be entertained though.”
“Is that your subtle way of asking me to leave?” his friend asked, but there was humor in his voice. He was teasing, not truly offended.
Azriel shook his head. “No. I simply plan on studying all night, and I didn't want you to feel abandoned.”
“I knew all that before I came over.”
“Then why did you?” Not that Azriel was complaining per se, but he did know that Kieran wasn't fond of being bored.
Behind him, Kieran shrugged. “I wanted to.”
Azriel blinked. He honestly didn't know what to say in response to that. Kieran said it so frankly, as though spending time with Azriel in a comfortable silence was more entertaining than getting up to mischief with Tegan or sneaking liquor with Isley.
Kieran gave a final squeeze to Azriel's shoulders. “There,” he put in with a friendly pat. “Now, you should be good for another three hours or more.”
“Thank you,” Azriel said, mind still dumbly focused on Kieran's simple admission.
The scientist grinned at him. “Anytime.”
He stepped back, and Azriel glanced over his shoulder, watching as Kieran flopped onto his bed as though he belonged there, reaching for something he had set on the nightstand earlier. It was the book Azriel had given him for his birthday, one of the pages carefully marked by a colorful drawing that Isley had done.
Azriel smiled at the sight before forcing himself to turn back to his studying. He had exams to pass after all.
It was time to get back to work.
a/n: Ah, they are adorable. I can't help but love writing them. Next time will bring an update of Whispers of Yesterday, then it will be back to our regularly scheduled Break of Day.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it!
