Accepting Consequences

[Morven]

Morven dozed for a while, lolling on the edges of sleep until the knock at the door jolted her back awake. She yawned, pushing back the curls from her face, and watched blearily as Sören accepted the laden trays and deposited them on a table. He seemed more sprightly, and even his mood faded into its normal amiable cast - which at least made him better company.

She scooted from the bed and scraped back a chair at the table as he did the same. They ate in silence for several minutes, until the depth of hunger eased and pleasant lethargy rolled in to replace it. Morven relaxed back, legs crossed at the ankle, and stared out at the skyline. The beginnings of sunset burned a brilliant red, the city's lights already beginning to twinkle in the fading afternoon. London had its fair share of opulence, but she'd never have been able to afford a place like this there let alone here. She doubted the network had funded the extravagance either.

"Have you been to see it yet?"
She nodded in the direction of the arch through the wide window, quietly contemplating its significance. The little plastic replicas in London barely did justice to its hulking monstrosity, even at this distance. Inwardly she wondered who the message was for; the world who already half knelt to the CCD's might, or the other Ascendants now revealed to that world.

"Not yet. Other things on my mind."
The ghost of a smile accompanied the words. He looked at her wryly.

Morven smirked. "I take it you haven't registered then."
Though neither had she - and nor would she until she was sure what the implications would be. The world was too unsettled at present to take such a risk. She paused, and though she didn't meant it to, her gaze lingered on his milky pale eye, fighting the urge to frown. "You're really not going to tell me what happened?"


"I think you would not believe me. But I shall show you why."
Sören pushed back his chair and stood to clear the dishes into a pile. Contemplation cast his expression serious; she could almost hear the whirring of gears in his brain as he completed the mindless task, then walked around her to rummage in his own luggage. When he returned it was with an object held reverently in his open palms. She waited silently as he unwrapped the item from its bindings, and placed it on the table, still nestled in the fabric. A shard, jagged at one end.

Sören collected oddities, she knew that. He bought and sold such things; antiques, artefacts, and art. It was partly what funded his expeditions. But there seemed little... grand in this one. Frankly, it looked broken. Morven gingerly placed her hands on the table beside it, expecting protest, but Sören only looked interested in her appraisal. Instead she rose a brow.

"What is it supposed to be?"


"You can touch it. Do you feel anything?"


She didn't particularly want to. Something about it reminded her of barnacles, like a thing dredged up from the depths of the ocean. Certainly it did not look very appealing, as though it would benefit from a good clean. The lower edges were barbed. Like a tooth ripped from the maw of some giant beast. To humour him, she ran the tip of her finger along the least offensive length. Retracted it quickly. She felt nothing. "Should I?"


"I don't know. It was the question, I suppose."
He frowned thoughtfully as he swaddled the shard back up. The man was a thousand miles away when he looked like that, so she swallowed the bite of incredulity that that was the reward of his injury.

Wrapped shard still in hand, Sören hefted his bag onto his shoulder, looked at the bed - mussed where she had lain - and indicated the door to an adjacent room. "I'm going to take a shower. I will sleep through there."