Small Universe

[Meira]

In the weeks that had followed her initiation into the Stellar Mythics, Vesta learned to become familiar with the dark tower and all the possibilities it presented. With her combat oriented background, she was quick to offer herself for use among the Battle Mythics and began to acquaint herself with other such beings. She found a certain level of acceptance among them, but also an obvious hesitancy to trust. Benjen explained to her that this was because of a group known as the Unum. They had a longer name, but it was complicated and hard to remember, like so many things among the Mythics. Vesta took to just using the one word as many others did.

Whatever the name, the Unum had broken away from the Mythics. Some of her new comrades called them forsaken. From what Vesta could understand, they were like terrorists. It made her think of what Jasper described dark jedi as. But the Mythics had a different view of the force... or mythos, or whatever. They didn't subscribe to a "light" or "dark" side. The mythos was the mythos, and the Mythics sought knowledge. The struggle between them and the Unum was more a political issue.

For a time, Vesta had wondered if she should even be volunteering for a place within this order that would put her on the front lines of a conflict she knew very little about. But then she'd heard of an attack that Unum members had supposedly orchestrated on a small town near an etherium deposit. Innocent people had died. If her instincts were right and coming to the Mythics had been the best course for her to find the answers to her life, and if the Unum was so cold and heartless in their efforts to shake the Mythics up, then she was fine with fighting them.

And her instincts had to have been right. Already she felt as if she were learning so much. The construction of her staff had symbolized her entering the order, and it had been an amazing experience. Benjen had helped her every step of the way. They discussed it, sketched it out, considered alternatives, all in the smokey clarity of etherium. At first, she'd wanted to construct it from wood, but later scrapped that for agrinium, a light weight, but strong alloy. Near the top of the staff, the metal was split, one part curving to the side in a shepherd's crook shape. The other half continued straight to the base of the mount where an ilvidium crystal was secured. The design was simple and easy to make. The result was something Vesta couldn't have been more proud of.

After the staff, came the sword, or in Vesta's case... the dagger. It was Benjen's final gesture as her mentor. Seeing that wielding a sword could prove problematic for a woman who's skeleton comprised primarily of cartilage, Benjen had presented her with a curved dagger. From end to end, it was the same length as Vesta's arm from elbow to finger tip. It was some dark metal, more a charcoal grey than most blades Vesta had ever seen. The grip, Benjen told her, comprised of a Abeonan Terrorbeast claw wrapped with strong leather strips. She's kept it at her side ever since.

Though Vesta still saw Benjen often, she was no longer under his tutelage. As an understudy battle mythic, she was organized into a small unit. Her schedule had recently comprised of a strict training regimen, leaving her little free time for anything more than resting and eating. Vesta didn't mind. She preferred it that way. She had so much to learn and she felt that she was already so far behind. But she was making progress.

Before coming to the Mythics, Vesta could hardly understand what having a connection to the force felt like. Though they called it mythos, Vesta knew the Mythics were speaking of the same thing. And through guidance and unending practice, Vesta was beginning to recognize the sensation of being connected to the mythos. Her staff was a tremendous aid in her focus. It was almost as if she could feel the mythos enter through the crystal and channel into her. For the first time in her life, she'd caused an object to float, and from then on, it was as if opening a flood gate.

---------------------------------

"C'mon! You can do better than that!"

Vesta wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. It came away slick with sweat. She was breathing hard and leaning heavily on her staff. She and the man taunting her had been sparring for a while now and she wasn't making any real headway. She was still getting used to fighting with the staff. She wanted to just set it aside, but that wasn't the point here. The staff was part of her now and she had to learn to make it every part, including combat.

The man pressed forward suddenly and caught Vesta off guard. She bailed left, letting the staff fall to the ground where she'd been standing just a moment ago. Cursing herself, she spun to face the man, who now stood between her and her staff shaking his head. His own staff was more of a spear. A padded sheath had been secured over the blade for sparring, but it didn't make the weapon any less threatening. He thrust it forward and Vesta doubled herself over backwards, narrowly avoiding the jab. She brought her legs upward, sweeping one to kick the man in the face, but missed. She continued her motion until she was again on her feet, but now even farther away from her staff.

Another thrust and Vesta spun to the side, her back sliding along the length of the shaft as she turned and closed the distance between herself and the man. He swung with his free hand and Vesta ducked under his arm, striking her hand out at a precise spot on the man's thigh. With a cry of pain, his leg buckled underneath him and he fell to one knee. Always moving, Vesta danced around behind the man tried to dash toward her staff, laying useless on the ground.

But the man managed to catch Vesta's long braid and pulled hard. The sudden stop to her momentum saw Vesta's feet fly out from underneath her and with a [i[thud[/i] she landed hard on her back. The man got to his feet and limped to stand over her. With a smile, he brought his staff up, but as he did, Vesta reached out her hand and willed her staff to her. It shook, moved a few inches, and then it was suddenly in her hand. Vesta used it to knock aside the man's staff, then launched herself back to her feet.

Now he was the one caught off guard, and Vesta found herself caught up in some strange clarity. She could almost feel the world humming around her. She never felt so connected. With a strange intensity to her electric blue eyes, she pressed forward. As the man retreated, she slammed her staff down in the ground, seeing some invisible bond between it and his foot. She willed that bond to hold and the man suddenly found that his foot would not leave the ground. With a spin to gain momentum, Vesta hurled her staff around her body and toward the man. The crook caught his staff and a pull wrenched it from his hands. In a fluid sweep, she brought the crook down to the man's stuck leg and at the precise moment that she severed the hold on it, she hooked it and pulled, lying the man flat on his back.

With a smile, she stood over him and he laughed and nodded his defeat. She helped him to his feet and they both walked over to a bench at the side of the training room. After a few minutes of rest, the man stood and said goodbye, promising that the outcome would be different the next time they sparred. Vesta smiled and waved goodbye to him, content to sit and rest a little while longer.

[Rugs]

"Krystos! Good afternoon! I hope the day finds you well?"

Why is there no peace here? Krystos looked to his left at the sound of his name, biting back a sigh. Always another annoyance.

A Caamasi youth was running across the courtyard toward him, either too rude or too dim to care that Krystos had been busy observing a spar. Despite his annoyance at being disturbed, Krystos managed to pull his grey lips back into something that at least loosely resembled a warm, lopsided smile. "Hello Eernash, and good day to you as well."

Eernash stopped next to Krystos, nearly bounding around in place with the accursed energy that seemed to fill him every waking hour of the day. "It does! They always do." The boy spared a glance toward the spar Kyrstos had been watching before he turned his attention back to being annoying. "So I learned a new trick in my classes today! I can channel the Mythos to make light! And my teacher says I'm good at it an-"

"Eernash, Eernash," Krystos cut in gently, holding up a few of his spindly fingers to silence the child, "slow down. You needn't forget to breathe, child." Sometimes he wished he could tear the snout off the furred thing's face. That would shut him up.

"Oh! Right!" Eernash laughed and patted down some of the fur that'd been thrown out of order from his frantic dash across the courtyard. "My instructor says I'm doing good with it. She says if I practice I might even get to be the best in my class!"

"Is that so?" Krystos feigned interest in what the Understudy was saying as he watched the fight. "I suppose you want to show me?" He glanced down.

Eernash was nodding enthusiastically; so much so that his ears--which, through an unfortunate inheritance from his father--were larger than they should have been--were bobbing around comically. "I do! See!" He wasted little him thrusting a clawed hand out at Kyrstos. Hovering over his palm was a small sphere of light. It was moderately bright, though flickering, and a warm yellow-white in color.

"Very impressive," Krystos lied. "With practice I imagine you'll be lighting up the whole of the Tower." He managed another smile, even went so far as to ruffle the fur on top of the repulsive thing's head. The things he did to keep up appearances. "Now go on, run along. If I remember correctly you have an arithmetic class you need to be getting to."

Eernash's ears drooped a bit and flattened against the top of his head. "Yeah... I do. I don't like it, though..."

Krystos chuckled and gave the child a little nudge to get him moving and out of his hair. "Yes, well you have to, if you're going to keep growing. So go on. And remember to give it your all."

As the little Caamasi turned to go, he gave a parting farewell and wave. Krystos returned them, fighting the urge to vomit. The Mythics irked him well enough, but some...

One day I'll be able to drop this wretched facade. One day...

Until then, the tall Vahla would have to persevere. He'd held onto his mask this long, so what did it matter? He would have his reward in time; of this, there was no doubt. He had the fiery hair, after all--he'd been blessed by Vahl.

Of course, now that Eernash was finally out of his short red hair, the fight was over. Krystos sighed and muttered curses under his breath, but he could at least see that the girl had emerged victorious. That was all that mattered, really.

It was her that he was interested in, after all. He couldn't really care less about the fight itself.

After a moment of adjusting his loose grey-blue robes about his lanky frame, he started toward the girl, giving a few sharp claps of approval. "Bravo! An excellent victory. And thrilling!

"I admit, I had never thought to see another one of my own in this place," he continued, stopping a few paces away from her, "but the Mythos continues to smile upon me, it seems." He smiled again, showing dimples. Then he laughed. "Ah, but I forget myself and my manners. I am Krystos, of the Blood Mythics."

Kyrstos extended a hand to Vesta, the palm of which was lined with a number of scars. " His smile grew to show teeth. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?

[Meira]

She'd found a towel and was wiping it along the back of her neck when she heard the clapping. Glancing up, she noticed a thin man walking toward her. She didn't recognize him as anyone she'd met recently. His complement caused her to look around a bit. Had he been watching? She noticed, then, that the sparring room was indeed quite open and people could watch from many different places. She nodded to the man to show her thanks and then stood, prepared to leave.

"I admit, I had never thought to see another one of my own in this place,"

That stopped her well enough. She turned back to face the man, who'd now come to stand a respectful distance from her. What did he mean by one of his own? He continued to speak, then introduced himself. Krystos. A blood mythic.

Was that what he meant? Had he mistaken her for a blood mythic? Did they not spar? Vesta didn't pretend to know the first thing about the blood mythics.

She realized then that she'd not moved, and he'd extended his hand toward her and asked for her name. Her head shook slightly, as if to shake off her confused stupor.

"Vesta. Understudy battle..."

Her voice trailed off as she'd extended her own hand to shake his. That was when she'd seen the scars on his palm. For a few moments, she was entirely transfixed by the sight, then turned her own hand palm-up to show the spiral scar. She looked back up at the man, studying his features more closely. There was something familiar, yet entirely foreign about him that she couldn't place.

"I'm sorry," she said, once again shaking off the odd feeling. "but what do you mean one of your own?"

[Rugs]

A knowing little smile pulled up at Krystos' pale lips. As warm as the expression was meant to be, his sickly pale skin had a way of making it look cold and crooked. Fitting, perhaps. "Of course, of course. I should know better than to come to a new face with little more than cryptic greetings by this point."

He turned around, searching for a place to sit and settled on an old, worn stone bench. "Forgive me a moment, Vesta. I have travelled a long while, and I sometimes grow weary..."

Krystos sat down, and set the satchel that hung from his shoulder in his lap. Folding his spindly fingers over it, he looked up at her, with glimmers of light catching and glimmering in his sharp lavender eyes.

"What I mean, dear Vesta, was that you are one of my people, as I am one of yours." He chuckled lightly, down in his throat and gave her a little nod. "A child of Vahl, though you have come here to study the Mythos." A fiery brow lifted, and he tilted his head slightly. "Or perhaps you have not. I should do better than just assume. Perhaps you came for the same purpose as I did, seeking the knowledge that the Mythics tend to here. Or maybe something somewhere in between." He smiled again, shrugging as he glanced off across the courtyard he'd come across. "So many have come for so many reasons it's hard to tell what every new face arrives for."

As he spoke, he wondered in the back of his mind if the girl knew about the Unum. Surely she'd heard of them if she'd been on the planet for any decent span of time, but what did she truly know? If he could get close to her, then he would have to find out. He would have to be very careful, though.

"Anyway, I'm beginning to ramble, I'm sure. But it is good to see another Child here. In all my years of traveling, you are the first I've seen."

[Meira]

Vesta had known what the man meant, even if not consciously, but she had to hear him say it. As he sat, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The sense of familiarity to the man was almost unnerving. She could hardly remember anything about her life before Jasper had found her. Most of what she remembered, she'd only considered nightmares until very recently. Jasper had never tried to pull it out of her, not since those first nights he'd cared for her and she'd suffered terrible night terrors. He'd focused, rather, on helping to calm her mind and give her peace. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for her to remember.

"What I mean, dear Vesta, was that you are one of my people, as I am one of yours. A child of Vahl..."

That did strike a chord with Vesta. Vahl. It sent a chill down her spine that she could not explain and recalled a dark room lit by low burning fires, hooded figures... she stopped her mind from winding down that dark path. She remembered the sensation of burning those thoughts would lead her to and she did not want to relive it, no here in front of this man.

But if he was the same as her, would he be able to tell her what they were? She wasn't human, at least not entirely. That she knew. What could he tell her about their people? More importantly, did she want to know? The idea scared her more than she might care to admit, but she'd come to the Mythics for answers. Would she balk now?

Vesta sat down on the bench next to Krystos, her eyes studying the man as she thought. She sat like that for a few moments as Krystos spoke. She heard him, but was not giving him her full attention. When she notice he'd stopped speaking, her eyes snapped back to his, realizing that she might have been caught gawking.

"I'm sorry." she said, turning her eyes down to her hands to keep from staring any further. "It's just that I've never met another... Child. Or, at least, I don't remember ever having met one. I don't know anything about them... or... us."

[Rugs]

Curiosity. Yes, Krystos could feel it, stirring down in the girl's being as she studied him. He couldn't blame her, truly. Curiosity was such an intrinsic thing, especially among the people that gathered at the Mythics' Tower. It was natural. Krystos imagined that if he were closer to the girl's own age, he might be overcome with an insatiable curiosity of his own. Perhaps even attraction.

But those times where little more than memories of days that had been gone for decades. Krystos was not a young man anymore, by any stretch of the imagination. Though, the fact that youth's curiosity had left him did not mean he lacked a curiosity of his own. No, he still had it, and the girl stoked it. But there was little doubt that the sort he felt was much more sinister than her own hunger for knowledge of her own people.

"Oh, it's fine, dear," he said, giving her a chuckle and a dismissive little wave of the hand. "It's not an unusual thing, you know, especially seeing one of us. We are a rare people, after all."

He turned to look at her again, to study her again briefly with his piercingly-sharp blue eyes. At times they could seem like icy daggers, staring into the heart of a being, but now they were something softer, something more benign. The edge was still there, speaking of a sharp mind beneath his aged exterior, but he had a way of making the gaze striking out from his pale, sickly skin look almost friendly.

"I cannot say that I am surprised," Krystos went on after a moment, shifting his gaze from Vest to their general surroundings, "that you don't know much about our people. There isn't much informatino out there to be found, really. Or perhaps my methods for searching were simply inefficient." He smiled sheepishly at that for a moment, but the expression said that he didn't think that was the case.

"Truthfully, seeking knowledge on our people was part of what led me here. After all, if any group were to have any such knowledge," the corners of his mouth turned gently upward and he made a sweeping motion with his hands at the Tower around them. "Why not the Mythics? If it were to be stored anywhere beyond the grip of our traveling Family, why not here?"

Krystos chuckled softly to himself and lowered his arms back to his lap. "I have not been disappointed, thankfully. It took many years, but I have learned a great many things about the Children of Vahl in my time here. You might even call me a scholar, though I don't share my work with many."

And here he had his hook. Curiosity was such a natural thing, and so very useful, in the right hands. He turned to Vesta, still looking for all the world like a kind old Mythic who wanted nothing more than to help one of his own learn more about her heritage. "But for you, dear Vesta, I may be willing to make an exception."

[Meira]

As Krystos spoke, Vesta was slowly becoming more and more intrigued. Her misgivings about her nightmares, or memories, were giving way under the sheer weight of the longing she felt. It was as if she were a puzzle with a few pieces missing. By studying the whole, she could guess at what those pieces were, how they were shaped and where they fit, but their truth was still hidden from her. Those pieces, surely, were her memories of her life before meeting Jasper. If only she could work them out and learn about her people, perhaps she could complete the puzzle and move forward in her life.

Krystos' words pulled Vesta in. Even his admittance of the scarcity of information on their people could not deter the young woman now. Vesta's determination showed in her eyes. Their color matched his almost exactly, but where his were sharp, hers would be described better as bright, even fluid. Perhaps it was a difference of age and experience, or perhaps something much more sinister. Whatever it was, Vesta was entirely unaware. She saw exactly what Krystos was likely trying to appear as; a kind, older member of the Mythics, happy to share what he'd learned with an unexpected kindred.

His comment on making an exception to his habit of not sharing information he'd learned of the Children of Vahl sealed the deal. A smile bloomed across Vesta's face, though she was still somewhat apprehensive. Even if what he had found was limited, it was already a hundred-fold what she knew. Even if it only lead to more questions, surely learning from this man would at least teach her what questions to ask.

"I'd be grateful." she said, trying to keep her eagerness from being too apparent. "What might I do to repay you this kindness?" Vesta had come to notice a certain quid-pro-quot system within the Tower. Often, older members would take on younger ones as students, apprentices, or whatever term was used. In exchange, those students would often work for the older Mythic. With a fairly common sense of secrecy within the Tower, Vesta understood this system. It ensured that those who had knowledge had reason to share it, and it also ensured those gaining knowledge were committed to learning. Vesta was committed to her task and would work for Krystos however he saw fit in order to gain what she wanted.

[Rugs]

"I'd be grateful."

Krystos smiled. It was a slight, friendly thing, of course--the expected response to Vesta accepting his oh-so-kind offer. There was, however, more to the old Vahl's smile than a quiet pleasure that she'd realized that he was the best avenue to find the information she was searching for. That was an expected end; now or later, she would come to that ultimate realization.

It was good that she'd skipped the waiting and thinking and pondering over his offer; it meant she was a smart girl. And perhaps a bit impulsive? he wondered silently, weighing her again with his eyes. We shall see.

"What might I do to repay you this kindness?"

Krystos nodded slightly, faint wrinkles showing at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. This was the reason he was so pleased that the girl was willing to learn what he had to show her.

It hadn't taken long to see how things worked in the Tower. The younger Mythics attended classes, both academic and to learn about the Force or Mythos or whatever they wanted to call it. As they grew older, they started to drift, often of their own volition, toward one of the various sub-sects of the Mythics. Their instruction continued there, but often they would find a mentor, who provided more intimate instruction and guided them until they were ready to act independently.

The older newcomers, like Vesta, often--but not always--wound up with a mentor of some sort once they got settled into life at the Tower.

It wasn't so set and structured as what he'd found in his studies about the Jedi and their Padawan system, but it was solid, as far as he could tell.

Of course, the mentor often required some form of repayment from their students. Apothecaries had their learners work in the shop or the field with them. Healers often used their apprentices as personal assistants, which also provided the student with valuable experience.

Krystos was no different. Vesta would help him, in some way. How was yet to be determined, but he'd find something for her to do. It was getting time to instruct her and talk to her that mattered; then he could slowly plant his ideals--the Unum's ideals into her mind and slowly make her his.

"Ah yes," he said, looking at her with a quietly knowing smile. "Something in return for me aiding you in your search for knowledge." He chuckled softly and adjusted himself where he sat, leaning against the back of the bench and gazing out at the courtyard thoughtfully.

"I cannot say exactly, right this moment," he said after a few long, thoughtful moments. "There may be times when I call you to assist me with my research. Other times I may ask you to assist me with some of my other hobbies." Krystos looked at her, pale lips spread in a wide smile. "I've taken to botany lately, you see. And insect-collecting. The life on this world is quite unlike any I've ever seen...

"But, on the matter at hand, you'll find I won't ask too much of you." He crossed his hands on his lap, setting them on top of his satchel. "You will even be free to continue your... usual training as you wish." For the beginning, anyway. Best to start her lightly and slowly pull her in as time went on.

"So what do you think, Vesta?"Krystos smiled again, small and quiet. "I think we have a suitable arrangement."

[Meira]

For a moment, Vesta had thought she'd done something wrong. Maybe there was a proper way to go about these things. She had no idea. She could only go by what she'd observed. She'd seen members without mentors, but those tended to be just the younger members, and she'd seen members with mentors. But she'd neither seen nor heard anything about a formal process of securing one. If anything, Vesta felt as if the formalities of the Stellar Mythics were markedly... informal.

Her discomfort didn't last long, however. Krystos pondered her words for a moment, looking out over the courtyard and then answered. Vesta listened, but wasn't sure what to expect. Krystos seemed rather nonchalant about making the arrangement. He made it seem so simple. No, she wasn't overly excited about the prospect of trudging around with him looking for weeds and bugs, but it wasn't like she couldn't do that. In any case, it seemed like a small price to pay for the information she desperately wanted. Tedious and boring, perhaps, but not beyond what she was willing to do.

"But,on the matter at hand, you'll find I won't ask too much of you. You will even be free to continue your... usual training as you wish."

Vesta hadn't considered the possibility of having to give up her training to gain Krystos as a mentor. The realization had brought with it both panic and relief at the same time. He'd made her aware of something that might have caused a conflict of interest, only to assure her that such a conflict would not take place. Vesta let out a breath with an uneasy smile. It was good that training would not be taken away from her. In the chaos of her new life, it was the one thing that helped her feel grounded and in control. She'd been a fighter her whole life and she wasn't quite ready to give that up. Not even for answers.

"So what do you think, Vesta? I think we have a suitable arrangement."

Vesta returned the older man's smile with her own and nodded her head. It did seem suitable. "I think so too." she said, as her eyes drifted back to his scars. "Would it be pushy to ask when we could begin?"

[Rugs]

A gentle, knowing smile creased Krystos' aging face. He chuckled softly at Vesta's question, looking at her politely.

"In time, my dear, in time." He sighed and old sigh, folding his hands again in his lap as he looked out around them. "I will need some time to adequately prepare, but I don't believe that it will take too long. A day or two, perhaps."

Krystos noticed, not for the first time, that it was a beautiful day out. The winter--one that had been unusually harsh--was passing, and the northern plains were beginning to bloom in all their beauty again. A life returned to the Tower and the campus surrounding it--not that the Tower ever died or slept--but Mythics, students and teachers alike, began to move outdoors again. Some adventurous students--against the wishes of their instructors, sometimes wandered further away from the Tower than they should. Patrols usually found them before they got in any trouble, but it presented opportunities.

For those of us that can't find our own right under the Tower's own nose, Krystos thought quietly, eyeing Vesta from the corner of one of his striking eyes.

Spring was a season of opportunities, it seemed. For Vesta, many new opportunities were about to arise, as well as for himself.

"In the interim, you are free to do as you wish, of course. I will send word or find you when I am ready to begin." Krystos gave Vesta a warm smile, belying the plots and schemes for her that danced in his head.

"Now, unless you have any further questions for me, you're free to go about your day, my dear." Krystos turned his head to the couryard's exit, looking longingly out to the circle of mountains that surrounded the Tower grounds. "I think the weather today is just perfect for one of my walks."