Aspasia - Caine - April - Snapshot II
Dominion wanted to talk before the rest of the clan was gathered, so Aspasia agreed to meet with her shortly after the sun had slipped out of sight.
The day had been full of dreams and nightmares, swirling about in her head. Dallas waiting for her at the creek’s edge after she swam. Visions of him staked and bound in the cave of the Wendigo. The look on his face when she first returned to the forests of Delphi.
The moment of choice, when she stood across a clearing while the others they had been teaching were savaging the form of a young boy.
The look in his eyes when she ended his existence.
Just as she had been dreaming in the months since his death. Alleviated only with nightmares about the pain she felt when Hisa was murdered, the glimpses of the killers that she saw through the eyes of her daughter.
Only now, Aspasia woke with the certainty that Dallas soul was not at peace. That he could not return to his cycle, because she had failed him. She felt his death with him. Saw as he did. It was much clearer now.
If she wished to help him. To make things right for her former lover, there was much work to be done.
That only made sense. Every hero set forth on a quest must endure and be steadfast. Overcome challenges.
Did not Odysseus wander for twenty years before he was allowed to return home? She would do the same for Dallas, accept the judgment of the Fates and pay for his soul’s passage. Take the threads as offered, when acting as their instrument to remove things from the tapestry.
All these things were swirling about in Aspasia’s head as walked, studying the box in her hands, considering it carefully. The detailing was someone’s masterwork. Hesphaestos, if the myths held true.
I must show this to Ricky. My blacksmith of a son will feel the kinship tie to it.
I must share this with all my childer, that they will see and understand this artifact from my heritage.
She was only faintly surprised to see Exodus present. It made sense, the rumors of his sire being in the general area. If anyone was going to dissuade the Unholy and walk clear of her, it would be this best known son.
Aspasia nods in welcome and leans against a tree, regarding Dominion with open interest in her expression.
Dominion wanted to take the box from her.
Didn’t she understand. It was Aspasia’s now.
Mine.
Amazon refused the woman’s first request. Gifting. It was gifted to her. It _sung_ to her. No one else awake could appreciate it, care for it as well as Aspasia.
This was unacceptable.
Yes. She planned to share this with the clan. It was a thing of beauty. A treasure and to be treasured. Not locked away like the Mekhet family would do, like Invictus would do. Such rarity must be appreciated, enjoyed.
Dominion asked again to have the box.
There is something in her tone more conciliatory, more reasonable.
Perhaps she just needed to have it explained to her. The Amazon rationalized as she extended the box, placing it in the hands of Exodus’ eldest daughter.
And then something clicked in her brain. The box all but howled in her mind. It was a trick. Dominion meant to take it away. To keep it from her.
Rage filled Aspasia’s soul as she realized someone was influencing her. Had to be. She lifted her hand to strike…
At this range, there was no way the Amazon should have missed. But she did.
Aspasia swings wildly, as if pushed off balance - though nothing is there. And instead her blow almost connects with Exodus, whose casual ‘what me worry’ expression has vanished in favor of a far more serious gaze.
The mere fact she has missed adds to Aspasia’s growing fury. She will have the box back in her possession or there will be blood spilt and pain dealt. For a second time, the Amazon prepares to strike at the other woman.
While she does so, Exodus angles himself better to retaliate. Dominion eases back a step from the Amazon and makes a plea at the same time, “Mother…please.”
What!
The words act like a spell that stops Aspasia in mid-swing. Her gaze is caught in the Dominion’s searching for any sign that this is a trick or falsehood on the other woman’s part.
Exodus, a bit stunned himself, by the expression on his face, glances over his shoulder at his daughter as well.
Aspasia could have struck him then. Gained the upperhand in the split second his guard was down, but then so was hers.
For a moment Hisa is standing there, where Dominion is. Then Jessica. Then Charlotte. Each with the same expression as this dragon wears on her face. And she can not hurt her.
The box falls silent.
She will not hurt it. She simply needs to be taught what is mine remains mine. Again, the Amazon rationalizes things.
Not now. I can not be rational and explain now.
*Why explain. Why not demand. It is your due. Make her hand it back. Now, before Exodus. Let him see that her calling you mother is not just a voicing of words. But an acknowledgment of a tie.
He’s taking Jessica from you. *
And I took Dallas from him.
The internal argument is over faster than in the blink of an eye. And the Amazon spins about on her heel, storming away from the other two with no words spoken, only Dominion’s plea lingering on the night air.
It’s mine. She will not hurt what is mine. She will give her ‘Mother’ back what is mine.
*Or?*
… I will take it from her.
The day had been full of dreams and nightmares, swirling about in her head. Dallas waiting for her at the creek’s edge after she swam. Visions of him staked and bound in the cave of the Wendigo. The look on his face when she first returned to the forests of Delphi.
The moment of choice, when she stood across a clearing while the others they had been teaching were savaging the form of a young boy.
The look in his eyes when she ended his existence.
Just as she had been dreaming in the months since his death. Alleviated only with nightmares about the pain she felt when Hisa was murdered, the glimpses of the killers that she saw through the eyes of her daughter.
Only now, Aspasia woke with the certainty that Dallas soul was not at peace. That he could not return to his cycle, because she had failed him. She felt his death with him. Saw as he did. It was much clearer now.
If she wished to help him. To make things right for her former lover, there was much work to be done.
That only made sense. Every hero set forth on a quest must endure and be steadfast. Overcome challenges.
Did not Odysseus wander for twenty years before he was allowed to return home? She would do the same for Dallas, accept the judgment of the Fates and pay for his soul’s passage. Take the threads as offered, when acting as their instrument to remove things from the tapestry.
All these things were swirling about in Aspasia’s head as walked, studying the box in her hands, considering it carefully. The detailing was someone’s masterwork. Hesphaestos, if the myths held true.
I must show this to Ricky. My blacksmith of a son will feel the kinship tie to it.
I must share this with all my childer, that they will see and understand this artifact from my heritage.
She was only faintly surprised to see Exodus present. It made sense, the rumors of his sire being in the general area. If anyone was going to dissuade the Unholy and walk clear of her, it would be this best known son.
Aspasia nods in welcome and leans against a tree, regarding Dominion with open interest in her expression.
Dominion wanted to take the box from her.
Didn’t she understand. It was Aspasia’s now.
Mine.
Amazon refused the woman’s first request. Gifting. It was gifted to her. It _sung_ to her. No one else awake could appreciate it, care for it as well as Aspasia.
This was unacceptable.
Yes. She planned to share this with the clan. It was a thing of beauty. A treasure and to be treasured. Not locked away like the Mekhet family would do, like Invictus would do. Such rarity must be appreciated, enjoyed.
Dominion asked again to have the box.
There is something in her tone more conciliatory, more reasonable.
Perhaps she just needed to have it explained to her. The Amazon rationalized as she extended the box, placing it in the hands of Exodus’ eldest daughter.
And then something clicked in her brain. The box all but howled in her mind. It was a trick. Dominion meant to take it away. To keep it from her.
Rage filled Aspasia’s soul as she realized someone was influencing her. Had to be. She lifted her hand to strike…
At this range, there was no way the Amazon should have missed. But she did.
Aspasia swings wildly, as if pushed off balance - though nothing is there. And instead her blow almost connects with Exodus, whose casual ‘what me worry’ expression has vanished in favor of a far more serious gaze.
The mere fact she has missed adds to Aspasia’s growing fury. She will have the box back in her possession or there will be blood spilt and pain dealt. For a second time, the Amazon prepares to strike at the other woman.
While she does so, Exodus angles himself better to retaliate. Dominion eases back a step from the Amazon and makes a plea at the same time, “Mother…please.”
What!
The words act like a spell that stops Aspasia in mid-swing. Her gaze is caught in the Dominion’s searching for any sign that this is a trick or falsehood on the other woman’s part.
Exodus, a bit stunned himself, by the expression on his face, glances over his shoulder at his daughter as well.
Aspasia could have struck him then. Gained the upperhand in the split second his guard was down, but then so was hers.
For a moment Hisa is standing there, where Dominion is. Then Jessica. Then Charlotte. Each with the same expression as this dragon wears on her face. And she can not hurt her.
The box falls silent.
She will not hurt it. She simply needs to be taught what is mine remains mine. Again, the Amazon rationalizes things.
Not now. I can not be rational and explain now.
*Why explain. Why not demand. It is your due. Make her hand it back. Now, before Exodus. Let him see that her calling you mother is not just a voicing of words. But an acknowledgment of a tie.
He’s taking Jessica from you. *
And I took Dallas from him.
The internal argument is over faster than in the blink of an eye. And the Amazon spins about on her heel, storming away from the other two with no words spoken, only Dominion’s plea lingering on the night air.
It’s mine. She will not hurt what is mine. She will give her ‘Mother’ back what is mine.
*Or?*
… I will take it from her.