The Familial Mutt

[Eidolon]

Kasimir

She'd agreed. The relief Kasimir felt was palpable, but he held himself together, especially while the Altaran woman was there. What a waste of a pretty face that one was, with her vapid gaze and humourless expression. Kasimir kept his focus away from her, instead watching the Seanchan Aes Sedai; in all truth, she didn't look best pleased despite her words, though maybe that was just because she didn't seem to show a whole lot of emotion at all. He'd promised his intentions were innocent so he couldn't see where the problem lie. Unless it was to do with the way his father had acted; Kaz's gaze drew down to her right hand, but the palm faced away. Witches could heal as well as Ebou Dari Wise Woman, or so he'd heard, so he was confidant that the wound had healed fine.

“She didn’t like me at all,” Kaz said once the violet-eyed woman had disappeared, and thank the Light for it too. The look she had given him, like he was some worthless, petty criminal! Why was it that everyone seemed to think that of him? The trouble in Arad Doman had been entirely not of his fault - it wasn't like he could change his face - and if the citizens of Tar Valon, or wherever that lordling had hailed from, balked at the sight of the smallest blade then what would they do in the face of Tarmon Gaidon? He'd actually probably done the man a favour. But nope, no one could see that side of the coin.

He stepped through the open doorway, and drew his gaze curiously around the room. Books and junk littered everywhere, even the chairs, and more books than he supposed one could read in a life time were stacked in multiple shelves. So she liked books. He'd never thought that witches might like to read. Aes Sedai Light, Aes Sedai. He had to start remembering to think that, just in case one of them could read minds. But anyway, reading was such an ordinary pursuit, that for a moment in made her seem almost human.

"Nice place," he said. "This whole place, the Tower I mean. It's huge."

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

Malaika felt somewhat guilty for sending the gaidar away, despite that she’d showed no particular reaction to the dismissal. Even after a year and a half to the shawl, she was still getting used to having the power to do that. Still, there were more immediate things to think of now, and even as the gaidar retreated from sight Malaika's thoughts sped on. She did not dignify Kasimir's comment with a response, nor enquire exactly what misdemeanour the gaidar had spoken about. She could find that out later and by other means if she wished, but for now the young Aes Sedai needed the time to think, not to partake in pointless banter.

When the door closed, Malaika allowed herself to frown. She watched as Kasimir paced, and used his own moment of indecision to recount her own thoughts. Another test? Even Eithne could not spin a web this delicate, could she? For a moment Malaika wondered whether she should turn him away; forget this ordeal and place it firmly in the past. She knew even as she thought it that she couldn't, though; not for any rebellious reasons, but simply for the sake of herself. Her mistake had not been to confront Chakai, but to rush in blindly. And with false hope besides. This situation was different; he had sought her out. The meeting was on her terms.

He appeared travel-worn and tired; clearly he had not seen a shaving blade or bath water in a while, and though he quipped much as he had done in the Domani cells, it did not look to have been an easy journey, or pleasant. Though slightly irked with the trouble he had caused in Tar Valon, as though it were somehow her responsibility, she could not on conscience make him stand. She was a servant of all, and though his father was her brother, he was in essence but another petitioner come to the Tower. Making him stand was something Chakai would have done, and she relented to clearing a bit of space.

Kasimir

"I can help with that." He made to move forward, but she raised a hand to ward him back. Her right hand. It was not a pretty a scar as he had hoped; most Ebou Dari knife duellers cut cleanly, for a thin white scar was a masterful thing and the sign of a skilled opponent. But his father, for all that he had taken to the Ebou Dari custom of knife-wielding, was still Seanchan. And Kaz had witnessed that tussle; it had been anything but clean. An unfair duel of knife versus hand.

The sight sat uneasily and tightened a knot in his stomach. He could've prevented it; he'd seen his father's hand twitch towards his blade long before she had. But he hadn't, and now her hand was scarred.

"You can help by telling me why you are here, Kasimir Nevaren."

Her voice didn't carry the same accent as his father's. Hers was smoother, more western, and the slur only carried faintly on certain words. She must have been here a long time. His young face darkened to something more serious at the words. He'd hoped what he wanted to say would come naturally, but now he was here the words were still stilted. For a while he was silent, watching her arrange the sheets of parchment in neat piles on the table. He raked his fingers back though his dishevelled hair.

"I was there. That night. But I didn't hear everything. Just snippets. And-" he stalled as she finished, straightened, and indicated that he sit. She took a seat opposite, her clear gaze fixed on him over the piles of paper. There was something gentle and cautious about her, for all that she was Aes Sedai. She simply didn't look dangerous in the way he had been taught to believe. He wasn't about to underestimate her, but it suddenly seemed like his whole belief system was caving in. He sat on the couch with a thud, and rested his head in his hands.

"Who are you? And why do you scare my father so?"

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

After a moment of stuttering, he appeared to come straight to the matter. For that Malaika was almost thankful; she was not sure she had the patience to beat around the bush with him or second guess hidden meanings behind the jokes and expressions. Still, she didn't answer right away. That was normal for the young Brown, if he would not know it. For the first time in months her thoughts trailed back to Ebou Dar, and rather unconsciously she cradled her right hand in her lap.

"I am a ghost." It was an apt way of putting it, but she knew he would not be satisfied with that answer. She watched him curiously, his face hidden in his filthy hands, and did not need to see his expression to realise how tightly these questions gripped his heart - and in a way more significant than she could fathom in the limited way she knew him. It wouldn't have surprised her to learn that he had asked Chakai the very same thing, only to be met with a wall of silence. She had observed the curiousness of their relationship in Ebou Dar. And apparently the tangle of that relationship had been enough for him to travel all the way here to find her. Despite it all, it softened her heart somewhat. He looked so wretched sitting there, but she didn’t know what to do to help other than answer his question. The company she kept did not often extend beyond her sisters, and there the relationship bordered on formal most of the time. She had little experience of intimacy, or comfort, and she had been closeted from men most of her life. So she wrapped herself in her Aes Sedai masks, and answered his questions with more openness than she had originally intended.

“Chakai is my brother, Kasimir."

Kasimir

In the silence before she answered, Kasimir suddenly realised he was battling back tears. Tears! Light, get a hold of yourself! The flood of emotion seemed to come from nowhere, and it could bloody well go back there for all he cared; he would not let his father do this to him. Not now, not ever. For a split second he considered standing, making his excuses and apologies, and leaving. Where? He had no clue, but suddenly this whole thing seemed like a foolish notion. Why did he need to know about his father? Or even care? The man was nothing but a bane, and now he was clear of Ebou Dar and his family he could be anything, go anywhere. Except Arad Doman, of course. But still, the world was open to him. He could forget all this.

But all he did was raise his head, rest his chin in his fists, and listen silently. He felt strangely sober.

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

"Your father must have told you something of our culture. I am an abomination. A marath'damane." She paused over the word and supressed a shiver; she had not spoken it in so long, not since she had believed it to be true. Otherwise her soft voice was matter-of-fact, the emotion of the events long since detatched. "And so, in my thirteenth year, I was taken away from my family and leashed. A great dishonour for my family, to lose a daughter. And a hard thing for a brother to accept." She reflected on that a moment, until her thoughts were scattered by the sound of Kasimir's voice.

"Then that's why he said he had no sister."

Malaika's gaze snapped back to him and she nodded. He also said he had no family, a voice reminded her. That had bothered her, niggled away in the back of her mind, but she could not understand why, if it even had any significance beyond the hurt of having been disowned by one's own flesh and blood.

"And that is where any relation with my family, and Chakai, ends. As you can see, things changed for me. But as far as your father is concerned I should be damane - was, for all he knew. I imagined that is why my presence...scared him." It was only now she noticed the odd choice of words. Chakai had not seemed fearful to her that night, and she wondered why Kasimir might have thought so. A spasm of discomfort fired through her fingers, and that alone stayed her tongue. It matter not, she reminded herself. The answer would make no difference to her.

Kasimir

Kasimir's eyes drifted to the floor, digesting all the Aes Sedai had said. She had confirmed his suspicions, and he supposed it explained his father's behaviour towards her. And yet there was something missing - something unsatisfying with that answer on its own. Whatever it was, though, the Aes Sedai clearly didn't know the answer. Kasimir's dark eyes closed. Creator above he felt drained.

"Would you tell me about him?" His eyes flicked up; he was unwilling to relinquish this connection to his father. He had nowhere to go. "How he used to be, I mean." He flickered a smile, half hidden behind his hands, and tried to work some charm, but there was nothing behind it. The Aes Sedai's face was impassive, and for a moment he thought she would deny his request; kick him out like his father had. Maybe he'd even be exiled from Tar Valon, too. But presently a small smile lifted the corners of her lips. Indistinct as it was, it warmed her face and lit something nostalgic in her eyes. Dark, like his father's, but so very different from the hard, cruel depths he was used to.

Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

"My memories from that time are... hazy. I'm not sure how much I could tell you that you wouldn't already know." She might've left it at that, but already old memories, old feelings surfaced. She did not often allow herself the key to that particular door. Even the most innocuous of pleasant memories could trigger a volley of horrific ones, so it was simpler to push them all back.

"Chakai loved the beasts of Seanchan. He was morat'torm and away much of the time." Clearly his injured leg had ended that career, she thought somewhat sadly. But her brother had always taken risks. Not a season had passed by when he had not returned home from duty with more scars to parade. It was how she remembered him, puckered with bites and scratches; rough skin, bandages. But always smiling. The smile was what she remembered most. Telling that to Kasimir, though, seemed pointless. Chakai had soured and she did not wish to worsen his wounds with salt.

"Does your family know where you are, Kasimir?"

He shook his head. "Father asked me to leave, and I did. Three, four months ago now. He's lost all right to know where I am."

"And your mother?"

He frowned, sighed, and ran his hands over his head. Exhausted, that was clear, and she wasn't even sure she had helped ease whatever worries were on his mind. She stood.

"Why did you come back, Malaika?"

The question caught her off guard. She met his black gaze and barely thought before she answered. "Because you never stop loving your family, Kasimir." It was true else she would not have been able to say it, but his gaze turned away, resentful as a petulant child, and she sighed. "You need rest. And a clean up. You'll stay here for now, until I decide what to do with you." The last sounded more confident than she felt. She was not best pleased with the prospect of sharing her apartments, no matter the short time, but she couldn't very well chance him making a nuisance of himself on Tower grounds.