TITLE: Icarus Manor, chapter 15 AUTHOR: lillywhite1, but you can call me Casey. SUMMARY: In a mysterious mansion in a secluded part of North America, a man discovers that he is far from alone in the world. Here at Icarus Manor several species of non-human description live together to survive in a world that does not know they exist. LAST CHAPTER: Sean returns to work after an uncertain lapse in time. Orlando visits Elijah in his new office. THIS CHAPTER: William reveals his past and that of the angels. Orlando contemplates an unusual sickness. Elijah finds out why Cronos agreed to do Sean’s dirty work. And a surprise visitor threatens the calm of the household. PAIRING: DM/BB, hints of EW/SA RATING: R; still setting up the base for the affair. FEEDBACK: is my neutella on a spoon that makes me go all gooey and melty and mmmmm... A/N: Text in asterisks (*) represents italics or general emphasis. This is a book and a work in progress. Be gentle. Comments to cswann1@gmail.com. Chapter 15 “So to this day, there are still vampires existing that were responsible for the structured murder of thousands of my kind?” William shrugged, “It is possible.” “And no one has sought out justice? The Counsel of the Loup-garoux did nothing?” Dominic said in horror as he lifted another armful of books onto the newly dusted shelves of the library walls. “Dom,” William wiped a bead of sweat off his lip, “it was nearly six thousand years ago. After the intervention, many people on both sides fled rather than be persecuted for their questionable actions. It’s just much less likely that any of the werewolves who escaped are still alive. Your species is not immortal, you know.” “I know.” Dominic took a seat against the wall as Korn dusted off another shelf. “William, how old DO werewolves live to be?” “It’s not certain. Your species tends to be a somewhat reckless one.” Dominic nodded in affirmation. “You fight; you’re territorial, so many die young. Also, the stress of that life can take years off your life span. There have been a few werewolves that have lived considerably long. One by the name of Amu Kichikawa became a monk and lived at a Tibetan monastery for three hundred years until he was killed in a political riot. A Native American werewolf, bitten by an English settler, lived for two hundred years until he took his own life. There is also the difference between the bitten werewolf and the born werewolf. The bitten live as long as a human usually; that’s why the Native American example is so interesting.” “How do you know all of these things?” “There are certain people who have been alive for most of this history. They catalogue events and facts. They are called The Bookkeepers.” “What are they?” “They are…mysterious. I don’t know much of them. Apparently, they don’t find themselves interesting enough to catalogue. They have their own little section for me, though.” William gave Dominic a grin of devilish intrigue. Dominic waved his hand in the air as if wafting distracting vapors away from his face, “Yes, but who wants to hear about that?” William feigned hurt, and then gave Dominic a swift, sharp swat on the ass that must have left a mark. Dominic retaliated by pinching one of William’s nipples till he screeched. The whole tussle ended abruptly with William lying on top of Dominic amongst the dust on the floor, which of course led to kissing, snogging, groping, and more kissing. They broke to breathe and Dominic took the chance to speak up. “So, Mr. Boyd, when are you going to show me your…private little section you were just discussing?” It was getting near the full moon, and Dominic was feeling horny; not that he wasn’t always horny, as most males are, unless you are of a certain breed of rock- climbing satyr that is usually pursued by the female which is three times his size. Dominic was always horny, but during the full moon week he was particularly anxious for action. William’s smile faded a little, “When I know you can handle it.” “And when will that be?” *Hopefully in the next few seconds.* He thought. “I’m not sure, but it won’t be now.” William glanced up to see all three foggles staring curiously down at them, as if studying them for research. Dominic laughed to try and hide his frustration, “So what have the Bookkeepers written about angels?” He held out his hand for William. “Well, we are beings of celestial origin, though before that is all speculation. We serve God—” “So, God does exist?” “That is a most complicated answer. God does exist, but it depends on if, how, what, and why you believe. God is a much more abstract concept in the outer world. God is everywhere and always has been. God was created with the Earth. When the first atoms of matter collided, God was the invisible force that kept the pieces of matter spinning. More matter collided and formed more God. More God made an attraction for more matter. God and the Earth spun together until some critical mass or number was reached and the Earth was finished growing. That is the moment that God became conscious. God watched for many millions of years while the Earth evolved, and God evolved with it, became more aware. Life began to rise out of the muck. Soon enough, large multicellular organisms appeared, and this delighted God. God watched them grow and learn and mate and began to feel something akin to loneliness. God saw one of these primitive life-forms playing on a hill and called to it. The little creature turned around with as bewildered a look as it could muster. God soon found that conversation was impossible, so God took a little piece of itself and put it into the creature to see what would happen. The little life- form died almost instantly, but that tiny piece of God returned to its source with memories of the existence of the creature. “God experimented with putting pieces into living things and found that some could handle the conversion, but always when they died, the little piece of God returned to the source with sensations and experiences that delighted God immensely. “Then one day, God put a piece of itself into a creature and when it died, the piece remained separate. The piece was full of questions of which God had never heard. The little piece wanted to know why. It wanted to know why it had lived, and God had no answer. God asked if the little piece would rather not have lived and it said that it would have chosen to live over any other choice. The little piece was satisfied and returned to the source, as always. “God thought this over. For a moment, there was a separateness that was sad because to be separate is sad, but also relieved God’s loneliness for there was some other with God. Then God became distracted when the first purple flower came into existence and forgot about the whole thing for quite some time. “Then one day, there was a death on Earth and another little piece of God came back towards the source. The only difference was God had not put this piece into the creature. It had formed something like God all on its own. The little being wandered to the source. God looked upon it with curiosity and expectation. For a long while, there was no communication. The little being was confused, ‘Why am I here?’ ‘You have ceased to live. You have returned to the source.’ ‘Why did I leave?’ ‘In order to live. Would you rather not have lived?’ ‘I would live again if given the chance.’ God and the little being discussed many things, for it had many questions. God had never met such a developed sense of identity and conversation. God was not alone anymore. Soon there came more inquisitive beings. These first sentient beings became angels. As humans developed and split into other species, they traveled to Earth more and more to watch with fascination. God protected them by giving them the gifts they needed to make these journeys. He protected them from everything except one thing that the beings on Earth had adapted. That was beauty. “An angel traveled to Earth to study the beetles and the spiders, but came upon a maiden laughing. She was with her companion laughing mightily. Her eyes danced and her lips parted. This angel was entranced. He became her invisible shadow for an entire year before returning to heaven. He asked for permission to live again and to be with her because he was in love. “God was worried by this. If all the angels became alive again, God would be alone in the void. It would be unbearable. But none of the other angels were showing interest other than gossip, and the one angel had his wish granted. And do you know what happened?” William stared deeply into Dominic’s dark blue eyes. The question was a charged one. William waited as if straining under the weight of an unbearable burden, desperate to let it down. But at the same time, the shrugging off of the burden could cause the fracture of the barer, and he hesitated. “What happened?” Dominic tried to keep his gaze level with William’s which was not easy at this time. “She died,” the words hung like quivering icicles threatening to crash and echoed in a sudden and solid stillness, “she died,” William spoke the words for the first time in thousands of years, “She *fucking* died, Dom. And it came with no warning. I had barely begun to know her, and she left me behind. What kind of God would do that to his angel? What kind of God would allow such a terrible thing to happen when he knew, *he knew* all along?” William slumped against the bookcase, “He knew those raiders were coming to the village; those warring barbarians that clothed themselves in the blood of their victims. He knew they would set fire to our house and rape her for hours before burning off her hair and…” William bowed his ginger head and wept heartbreaking tears into Dominic’s arms. Dominic didn’t speak save the sweet nothings of comfort he whispered to his sobbing lover. So this is what kept William from loving for thousands of years. This terrible secret he carried was no longer a solitary weight. Dominic kissed William gently, “I will not disappear on you.” ~ Orlando hung his very unhappy head on the rim of a very unhappy toilet and vomited again. He had been under the weather lately, which didn’t make sense since he was a fire sprite and generally was immune to sickness. A normal temperature of 111° was not a cozy little spot for the typical human virus or infectious bacteria. That was one great thing about not living around your own species. But this, this very unhappy thing needed to go. Maybe he’d picked up a little bug at the club last weekend. Wouldn’t have been the first time he’d brought someone home and hadn’t realized they’d been carrying something with them. One time, a rather remarkable (in the good way) evening was followed by a rather remarkable (in the not-good way) morning when he’d discovered he’d been infected with a Barboundous Leech. The little fuckers were rare, but no less annoying. They attach themselves to a host and babble on like a high school girl on amphetamines and crack. The only way to quiet their incessant mouth-flapping is to eat massive amounts of green olives, but the only way to get rid of them is to pass them on. Orlando had no problem with that one. That was precisely what ex-lovers are for. Another time, he’d played host to a delightful little parasite named Tim who was very apologetic about invading his brain. In general, Tim was polite and as generous as a colony of Echinometicria bacteria that had developed a collective personality could be. The hallucinations weren’t even that bad, but then one day Orlando was chased by rabid pop boy-bands in the mall and when he found out they were imaginary, he told Tim he had to leave via a few vivid orange pills distributed by the good doctor Viggo. This was nothing like the leech or Tim. This was banal, completely uninteresting, and therefore Orlando ignored it. The nausea had passed. He was feeling much better now and hungry to boot. ~ Elijah reached the last two cells on the left in the dark, dank dungeons of Icarus Manor. Again, he peered into the cell containing the large, red giant, and again, he was sound asleep. “You just keep showing up at the wrong time, don’t you, merman?” Elijah moved over to stand before the last cell housing the great, green dragon who was sitting quietly on the floor in his mirage of a habitat. The poorly maintained illusion flickered a little like a cheap hologram as Elijah moved his head. Cronos held something small and glittering in his hand. “I still haven’t gotten to talk to him. The file needs to be updated. How are you, Cronos?” “Just fine, merman, just fine.” Cronos tucked the object into some hidden place in the cell and looked up at the window in the door and directly into Elijah’s eyes. “As fine as I can be.” The great dragon sighed and tried to stand, but Elijah was surprised to see it was difficult for him. His wings, thin and frail quivered to try and maintain the balance of the large thrope, but it didn’t seem as though he was going to be able to stand yet. “What happened?” Elijah tried not to sound as desperately concerned as he did, but his effort was for nothing. Cronos’ smile was mostly a grimace. “I wouldn’t think you would care, guppy. After all, I nearly killed your friend.” Cronos relaxed back against the wall again. “Will you tell me this time?” Elijah’s pale hands wrapped about the misshapen bars of the portal into Cronos’ cell. A question bent his mind keeping it from focusing on anything else. “Tell you? You really want to know why I did it?” Elijah couldn’t help his curiosity. “Yes.” “Fine. I’ll tell you, but you need to do something first.” Elijah stiffened. “I want you to come inside here and sit with me. I’m tired of staring up at you. It’s not something I’m used to doing.” Elijah called out to the nearest of the Ophid Twins. It was Phobos and he was unusually jittery, though he tried to hide it. He unlocked the cell door, and Elijah stood at the threshold which he slowly crossed. The door was locked behind him, and he sat on the well-kept floor of the cell a safe distance from Cronos. This close Elijah could see what the hundreds of years of prison had done to this proud thrope. The horns on his head were dull and marred, one of which was swollen around the base and possibly infected. His wings folded safely behind him showed every vein and bone. A few patches of scales were dull grey islands in the sea of black-green perfection. Elijah wanted to suggest some medical attention, but dared not incase he offended the powerful beast whom he was imprisoned with. “Dragons, as you may have heard, have a history of guarding treasures. That was one reason that we were so vigorously hunted by man. But the reason that we had treasures was not because we are greedy creatures, but because of the gold itself. They say that when our ancestors went down into the earth and came back out of the volcanoes, they had been surrounded in liquid gold. It became part of them, a part of us. Gold has always been around us. It is soft and can hold us, withstand us and we respect it. We make our nests out of it for our young ones. It is in our blood. When all dragons die, they leave gold behind. We weren’t just guarding a mound of treasure; we were also guarding the bones and souls of our family long gone. “Most gold in the earth has been in a dragon. When I hold a ring or a coin, I can hear them. I can hear the other dragons and feel their presence. As my people began to lose our way, we had even greater reason to hold on to what we did have. We had our little treasures to protect. As long as we had this link to each other, we could never be lost. “A dragon is an empty being without that comfort, and this is what Sean allowed me to have. Just a little piece of my people. Something to keep me company.” Cronos reached behind him again and unfolded his hand. Inside was a tiny pin in the shape of a galloping unicorn. Elijah sat entranced by Cronos’ story and his little treasure. “What does this gold tell you?” Cronos smiled genuinely for the first time since Elijah met him. “It speaks of a female dragon who wanted to much to be a mother; ever since she was a fledgling. It grew as she grew. She could not remember living without the desire for her own children. When she finally mated, she had her clutch on a secluded mountain side. But her shells were too thin and many of the eggs did not hatch. This is common with inexperienced young mothers. She tried to keep the eggs warm and alive, but all was lost for most, and she thought her heart would break. But one of her eggs struggled and survived and hatched. She was overjoyed and she held the tiny dragon to her, a daughter. “They lived many happy years together and the daughter grew up beautiful. They brought each other much happiness. Till the day she died, they were together. And this is only one of the lives this gold has absorbed.” Cronos held the little pin with pride. “This means a great deal to you.” “Yes.” Cronos hid the trinket away again. “Now, can you begin to understand why I did what I did?” “I am beginning to understand.” There was a long pause while Elijah hid behind is bright blue eyes and ran his fingers through his black hair debating about whether or not to ask his next question. “Cronos, why are you here?” At that moment there was a loud noise at the far entrance to the dungeon. It was Orlando and something was wrong. Elijah gazed at Cronos apologetically. “It’s okay. We’ll talk about it next time.” ~ Orlando was straining not to whip down the hallways as Elijah struggled to keep up with him. “’Lij, I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to talk to her.” “Talk to whom?” Elijah panted. “You’ll see.” A few minutes later, Orlando and Elijah reached one of the front parlors. Inside was a woman a little taller than Elijah dressed inexpensively but neatly. Her brown hair bobbed and her stormy grey eyes near to impatient, she stared at them with a polite expression. Her round little nose could have been cute had she not been so hardened. She smiled briefly before saying, “Mr. Bloom, if I had wanted you to fetch another perfect stranger I would have said so. Who is this?” Elijah ignored the barely polite statement, “I am the staff liaison and general grounds manager. My name is Mr. Wood. And who are you, Miss?” “My name is Astrid Monaghan and I am here to collect my brother, Dominic.” ~ Please email comments to cswann1@gmail.com.