Week 13, Thanksgiving Evening, Whiteoak
Spindle retreats back to his room, settling himself down at his desk. By the look of things, Dain had already left for the holiday.
Hands in face, he takes a deep breath. God's wrinkled raisins, I want a cup of coffee. He looks under his desk to see the bags Freida had brought him, sitting next to the coffee pot. I haven't had a cup since last night. Sitting back, his gaze lifts to stare out the window. Just... need a minute to collect myself. Just a minute or two before I go back to Blackwillow and the feast and all the people... Fuck, my brain hurts!
Spindle moves to the bed, sitting back. Not trusting himself, he sets the alarm clock to go off in a few minutes, just in case. Then he closes his eyes to escape the migraine and the shakes and the exhaustion.
And Spindle Dreams...
He sits before a high stone bench in a high vaulted and cavernous room, chisled from the very rock. Shafts of quartz are inlaid into the walls, intricate patterns casting shadows about the chamber. To his right sit two ancient and withered Nockers, while to his left sit three more. His clothes are ornate, and while distinct from the other 5 of his Kith, there is a marked resemblance. "The Grand Bes Din," he thinks to himself, "I'm one of the..." The scene shifts slighty, and now they are hearing cases. This one guilty, this one innocent, grant this patent, this other infringes, yes, no, life, death... Another shift, and he's teaching a class to a series of apprentices. A silver handled cane ("Isn't this Master Flywheel's?") rests in his hand. Journeymen and students scurry about, asking for his advice. Projects of enormous scale come to fruition under his guidance. Another shift, and he's meeting with... Ailan and Silia, then later Tommy Lee and Peri? Problems in their respective lands, could he help them? Khimaris representing her Freehold, deals for a mutual defense treaty with the Grand Bes Din's Freehold in Halifax, she would be ever so grateful... Novalin and a bevy of young Sluagh girls to willingly serve at his beck and call. Another scene shift and Spindle is with Freida. Comfortable quarters, more than ample for a large and loving family, lots of children, living into old age...
A voice from the deepest terrors of the night shudders through the dream: "OR THIS?"
The view is different. Spindle stands naked before the Grand Bes Din, sickly and impossibly thin. Thick heavy chains of iron bind his arms and legs, the searing pain alone making it impossible to run. He's being banned, cast into herem, his work destroyed and all of his notes burned. His name and maker's mark to be expunged from the records. A huge fire appears, and one by one all of his creations are thrown into it to be consumed. Gone are all the toys he ever made, Freida's doll and musicbox, the still, those god-awful X-ray classes, creations he'd only ever thought of making... all destroyed. Ailan, Aidan, Mikal and Katrina watch from nearby, hollow shades of their former selves, stripped of what they needed to be by his Extractor. Silia and Aya curse his name from the balconies, despise him for what he's done to their beloveds. Travis laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs. Ash, sweet and loving Ash, does not even look in the Nocker's direction. Instead he holds the leash of a silver goat, which stares at Spindle with baleful eyes. ("Khimaris?") Novalin spitting on him for ever having been so presumptuous as to even consider the possibility at any point in time that they might... Spindle glances around wildly for Freida, searching for her in desperation. And the realization dawns that she has left him...
Spindle sits bolt upright in his bed, the alarm beeping harshly again his ears. He can feel his heart beating wildly, and it is several minutes before his pulse begins to slow and the sweat begins to fade. He glances at the alarm clock. He has only been asleep for less than 15 minutes.
Hands in face, he takes a deep breath. God's wrinkled raisins, I want a cup of coffee. He looks under his desk to see the bags Freida had brought him, sitting next to the coffee pot. I haven't had a cup since last night. Sitting back, his gaze lifts to stare out the window. Just... need a minute to collect myself. Just a minute or two before I go back to Blackwillow and the feast and all the people... Fuck, my brain hurts!
Spindle moves to the bed, sitting back. Not trusting himself, he sets the alarm clock to go off in a few minutes, just in case. Then he closes his eyes to escape the migraine and the shakes and the exhaustion.
And Spindle Dreams...
He sits before a high stone bench in a high vaulted and cavernous room, chisled from the very rock. Shafts of quartz are inlaid into the walls, intricate patterns casting shadows about the chamber. To his right sit two ancient and withered Nockers, while to his left sit three more. His clothes are ornate, and while distinct from the other 5 of his Kith, there is a marked resemblance. "The Grand Bes Din," he thinks to himself, "I'm one of the..." The scene shifts slighty, and now they are hearing cases. This one guilty, this one innocent, grant this patent, this other infringes, yes, no, life, death... Another shift, and he's teaching a class to a series of apprentices. A silver handled cane ("Isn't this Master Flywheel's?") rests in his hand. Journeymen and students scurry about, asking for his advice. Projects of enormous scale come to fruition under his guidance. Another shift, and he's meeting with... Ailan and Silia, then later Tommy Lee and Peri? Problems in their respective lands, could he help them? Khimaris representing her Freehold, deals for a mutual defense treaty with the Grand Bes Din's Freehold in Halifax, she would be ever so grateful... Novalin and a bevy of young Sluagh girls to willingly serve at his beck and call. Another scene shift and Spindle is with Freida. Comfortable quarters, more than ample for a large and loving family, lots of children, living into old age...
A voice from the deepest terrors of the night shudders through the dream: "OR THIS?"
The view is different. Spindle stands naked before the Grand Bes Din, sickly and impossibly thin. Thick heavy chains of iron bind his arms and legs, the searing pain alone making it impossible to run. He's being banned, cast into herem, his work destroyed and all of his notes burned. His name and maker's mark to be expunged from the records. A huge fire appears, and one by one all of his creations are thrown into it to be consumed. Gone are all the toys he ever made, Freida's doll and musicbox, the still, those god-awful X-ray classes, creations he'd only ever thought of making... all destroyed. Ailan, Aidan, Mikal and Katrina watch from nearby, hollow shades of their former selves, stripped of what they needed to be by his Extractor. Silia and Aya curse his name from the balconies, despise him for what he's done to their beloveds. Travis laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs. Ash, sweet and loving Ash, does not even look in the Nocker's direction. Instead he holds the leash of a silver goat, which stares at Spindle with baleful eyes. ("Khimaris?") Novalin spitting on him for ever having been so presumptuous as to even consider the possibility at any point in time that they might... Spindle glances around wildly for Freida, searching for her in desperation. And the realization dawns that she has left him...
Spindle sits bolt upright in his bed, the alarm beeping harshly again his ears. He can feel his heart beating wildly, and it is several minutes before his pulse begins to slow and the sweat begins to fade. He glances at the alarm clock. He has only been asleep for less than 15 minutes.