(no subject)
The Primal Pattern.
Softly his boots crunched on the ground as he walked the perimeter of the inscribed complex lines. It was so different than the one back within Castle Amber yet so much the same... He knew the path that would take him to the heart like he knew the back of his hand. Yes, it called to him. A sweet song of decadance that whispered sweet nothings into his very being.
"It is something is it not?" the old man spoke somewhere behind him. Brand cought himself with out stretched hand half wanting to touch the glowing line infront of him. All the Prince could do was nod his head a little.
Clearing his throat Brand turned his head slightly to glance back at the grizzled man that had spoken. "How did you..."
The old man laughed, it soon turning into a hacking cough. "Find it you mean? Yes I can see the questions within your eyes lad. There are many things your dear, dear Dworkin has not told you that I could."
"Things? What sort of things?"
"About the Pattern, about the Courts, about your heritiage..." Licking his lips the grizzled old man took a step forward leaning heavy upon the walking staff with hand out stretched toward Brand. "But I require one favor of you."
Here he was standing beside of a piece of history that he had dreamed about ever since hearing old Dworkin's mumblings about the Primal Pattern. He had tried to fit in amongst his older siblings studying had along side of Fiona having always found himself at the bottom of the pack. To learn something she herself did not know- to learn something that might be vital to Amber..
"Yes. Anything."
"Walk this Pattern, boy."
Silence elipsed between the two as the old man advanced in slow paces toward him. "I can't. I've already walked a Pattern- it could be dang-"
"You said you would do anything!" The old man's steps became faster, his wild eyes wider as he managed to clasp ahold of Brand's shoulder with a strength noone would have dreamed he possessed. "You will walk this. You will do as I say!"
Brand's own eyes went wide as he twisted trying to free himself from the old man's grasp. "Unhand me! I said release me at once! None of my kin will stand for thi-"
An arm slipped under his chin pressing tight about his neck leaving him within a headlock much like Gerard had put him in or Corwin. For a man looking like he was knocking on death's door he was stronger than quite possibly Gerard and Oberon combined. Brand felt the breath becoming harder to come by as he was dragged toward the beginning of the pattern. "For years I have waited to find one as weak of mind as you, boy. I had nearly thought it was impossible for Oberon's line but you...you are the weakest link. Just what I need."
The beginning of the Pattern had become a terrifying sight that blazed within Brand's emerald eyes. His foot was kicked out closer and closer to the thread of the pattern knowing full well if it even touched the line he would have to walk it or die. Straining against the grasp that held him the youngest of the red heads tried his best to trip the man hoping to catch him off guard and fall onto the Pattern himself. With little more effort than it would take to move a book on a shelf the old man hauled Brand about slinging him hard to the ground sending the Trumps at his side free to catch the wind, forcing the air from his lungs as he landed hard against his back.
"...disobedient," he heard his enemy mutter as he limped closer, "A waste of life and breath. I shall fix you, boy. Yes..you have spirit. That much I will give you and that much I will take."
Brand gasped for breath, writhing on the ground fighting to take one deep sweet breath of air into his aching lungs.
"...the Order and Chaos. You shall undo them all.."
Eyes wide managed to catch the tail end of the staff as it whacked soundly with an almost sickening crack against the side of his head. The world swam around him as he faught the urge to sick up right then and there. His arms, however, were of no use. It was like he couldn't move at all. Nor even cry out. Turning his head slowly as the feeling of something warm slipped down his brow and stung his eye he saw his cards tossed about as the wind picked up. No help would come for him.
Inwardly Brand cursed which was the resulting groan from his prone form. "Yes, my dear child. Noone is going to help you. Noone wants to.." His right hand was lifted up and he felt something cold and metallic slip onto his ring finger. "I hope you said your prayers to the Unicorn this morning, Brand, son of Oberon."
It was a little trickle at first as something surged through his veins like a minute electric shock. Then the pain took over- a searing flash of sudden white hot heat that seemed to tear him in half. As he screamed the old man laughed as red eyes flickered with mirth.
Softly his boots crunched on the ground as he walked the perimeter of the inscribed complex lines. It was so different than the one back within Castle Amber yet so much the same... He knew the path that would take him to the heart like he knew the back of his hand. Yes, it called to him. A sweet song of decadance that whispered sweet nothings into his very being.
"It is something is it not?" the old man spoke somewhere behind him. Brand cought himself with out stretched hand half wanting to touch the glowing line infront of him. All the Prince could do was nod his head a little.
Clearing his throat Brand turned his head slightly to glance back at the grizzled man that had spoken. "How did you..."
The old man laughed, it soon turning into a hacking cough. "Find it you mean? Yes I can see the questions within your eyes lad. There are many things your dear, dear Dworkin has not told you that I could."
"Things? What sort of things?"
"About the Pattern, about the Courts, about your heritiage..." Licking his lips the grizzled old man took a step forward leaning heavy upon the walking staff with hand out stretched toward Brand. "But I require one favor of you."
Here he was standing beside of a piece of history that he had dreamed about ever since hearing old Dworkin's mumblings about the Primal Pattern. He had tried to fit in amongst his older siblings studying had along side of Fiona having always found himself at the bottom of the pack. To learn something she herself did not know- to learn something that might be vital to Amber..
"Yes. Anything."
"Walk this Pattern, boy."
Silence elipsed between the two as the old man advanced in slow paces toward him. "I can't. I've already walked a Pattern- it could be dang-"
"You said you would do anything!" The old man's steps became faster, his wild eyes wider as he managed to clasp ahold of Brand's shoulder with a strength noone would have dreamed he possessed. "You will walk this. You will do as I say!"
Brand's own eyes went wide as he twisted trying to free himself from the old man's grasp. "Unhand me! I said release me at once! None of my kin will stand for thi-"
An arm slipped under his chin pressing tight about his neck leaving him within a headlock much like Gerard had put him in or Corwin. For a man looking like he was knocking on death's door he was stronger than quite possibly Gerard and Oberon combined. Brand felt the breath becoming harder to come by as he was dragged toward the beginning of the pattern. "For years I have waited to find one as weak of mind as you, boy. I had nearly thought it was impossible for Oberon's line but you...you are the weakest link. Just what I need."
The beginning of the Pattern had become a terrifying sight that blazed within Brand's emerald eyes. His foot was kicked out closer and closer to the thread of the pattern knowing full well if it even touched the line he would have to walk it or die. Straining against the grasp that held him the youngest of the red heads tried his best to trip the man hoping to catch him off guard and fall onto the Pattern himself. With little more effort than it would take to move a book on a shelf the old man hauled Brand about slinging him hard to the ground sending the Trumps at his side free to catch the wind, forcing the air from his lungs as he landed hard against his back.
"...disobedient," he heard his enemy mutter as he limped closer, "A waste of life and breath. I shall fix you, boy. Yes..you have spirit. That much I will give you and that much I will take."
Brand gasped for breath, writhing on the ground fighting to take one deep sweet breath of air into his aching lungs.
"...the Order and Chaos. You shall undo them all.."
Eyes wide managed to catch the tail end of the staff as it whacked soundly with an almost sickening crack against the side of his head. The world swam around him as he faught the urge to sick up right then and there. His arms, however, were of no use. It was like he couldn't move at all. Nor even cry out. Turning his head slowly as the feeling of something warm slipped down his brow and stung his eye he saw his cards tossed about as the wind picked up. No help would come for him.
Inwardly Brand cursed which was the resulting groan from his prone form. "Yes, my dear child. Noone is going to help you. Noone wants to.." His right hand was lifted up and he felt something cold and metallic slip onto his ring finger. "I hope you said your prayers to the Unicorn this morning, Brand, son of Oberon."
It was a little trickle at first as something surged through his veins like a minute electric shock. Then the pain took over- a searing flash of sudden white hot heat that seemed to tear him in half. As he screamed the old man laughed as red eyes flickered with mirth.