A3: The Desperate Excerpt: “Ewan, she thinks… My God… Ewan… she thinks that I wanted her only to provide the next bloody Arwein!” He roared as he passed Ewan. Ewan turned, following Arwein’s movements. “Well… didn’t you?” Arwein rounded on him, roaring, “NO!” He stalked over to where Ewan sat, very still. Arwein was not very tall, but he _was_ very strong, and was advancing in a towering fury. “How can you say… how could you even _think_ that?” Ewan moved his chair back a few inches. “Ah… ‘I have other considerations regarding an heir,’ or something like that… we had a conversation about Daniel last fall…” “Mercy, Ewan! That comment was not meant to be taken… it did not mean that I did not _love_ her, Ewan! Lord! What do you people _take_ me for?” He spun, gesticulating. “And she thinks – and, I suppose, likely you do as well – that I considered myself safe until I had my bastard heir here, because Michael would never allow him to come to a different Arwein. And now that he is here, there are no further damn guarantees, and now, because that is just the sort of person I am, I will certainly not name him simply because of who his mother was, so I need to ensure someone… legitimate for my bloody throne. Have I shown you people nothing of who I am? _Nothing?”_ He raged to his office door and threw it open, pulling one of the hinges from the frame as he stormed out of his office and from the castle. It was pouring out. _Pouring._ Arwein was soaked to the skin within seconds. _“Michael!”_ he called, throwing his agony into the deluge. It was moments, but not long, before the Archangel was by his side. Michael stood before him, his luminosity gradually fading as he looked at Arwein with increasing gravity. “Arwein. You are not well.” Water was running down Arwein’s forehead into his eyes, mixing with tears, both shed and unshed. He squinted against the rain. _“I need to leave. Now. Not for long – a week, perhaps. But I must leave.”_ Thunder rolled through the mountains. _“What has happened?”_ Arwein stood before the Archangel, the rain plastering his thinning hair to his head. It was cold, and it ran between his collar and his shirt. Beads of water formed on his Robe, each gradually sinking into the wool. Arwein cast his focus helplessly around the dark grounds, from the uselessly cheerful lights of the castle to the dark outlines of the hills and forest beyond. It was all illuminated in a flash by the sharp _CRACK!_ of lightning that touched down much closer than Arwein anticipated. _“Arwein.”_ _“Please, Michael. Just let me go.”_ Michael slowly shook his head. _“No. I’m sorry, Beloved. You know it doesn’t work that way. I need to know what has happened.”_ Arwein looked back at Michael, then let out a great expulsion of air, sending droplets of rain that had clung to his face flying. He was truly dizzy, now, and nearly stumbled each time the earth rolled beneath him. Thunder crashed around them; it blasted through Arwein’s brain. He gazed into the distance toward the hill where Daniel so frequently ran. It glowed bright as day in the instant of the next lightning touchdown. Now, at last, Arwein understood – and Daniel was correct. It _was_ him on the hill this time, and he knew what it was to need to run, to fly, to flee. _I can transfer to the hill. Hide there. It does not matter – I can keep from being found._ He began to gather Energy. _“Arwein. Let us go to your office,”_ Michael said. Arwein dropped the Energy. His gaze flickered to the Archangel’s eyes. _“No. Ewan is there. I cannot. Please, Michael, I beg you: just let me go.”_ _“Ewan is your friend,”_ Michael said with a tilt to his head. A refutation. An invitation. Arwein’s shoulders slumped. _“He *was* my friend.”_ He sighed, then turned away and finally shook his head. _“My apartments.”_ Michael nodded, and they went.
Posted on: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 16:18:05 +0000
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