Trust and Knives -------------------- [Wide Arid Plain] Brown is the predominant color here, dusty shades in the ground, rocks and even sky. This place is not merely drab, it is virtually dismal, with no indication that anything here was ever living. The plain is bordered on three sides by mountain ranges, and the fourth by a lake, its waters a slime ridden green. Perhaps midway out onto the plain is a black stone obelisk, a marker of some sort. Before the marker, for some thirty to forty feet, stretches a withered imprint within the unremarkable brown grass. Close inspection reveals it to be all that is left of a Broken Pattern. You have established contact with Tarot. The image of Tarot says "Prince Brand?" To the image of Tarot, Brand is standing in the center of a wholly unremarkable plain. Well, unremarkable except for the obelisk in the background, perhaps. "Tarot." You sense that Constantine has concentrated on your Trump. To the image of Tarot, Brand extends his hand. Tarot grasps your hand and you pull her through. (Tarot) A tall, lean woman, wiry in build, her skin weathered by travel. Her thick crimson hair is braided tightly off her face and her golden eyes are cool and deep-set under arching thin dark brows. High cheekbones and a wide mouth give her a permanent air of faint amusement. Her worn practical clothing and cloak are a dusty black. On her belt are several pouches and one dagger. Long thin brown hands hang calmly at her sides. She moves with the easy stride of the experienced traveller. Her poise is relaxed and cool. An old scar cuts across the palm of her left hand and partway up her arm. Tarot releases Brand's hand, and looks around curiously. Tarot says "Where is this, sir?" There is a white horse, its reins tethered to the obelisk. Brand says "This is where my sister, the Princess Fiona, was last seen slain." He chuckles. Tarot says "You phrase that oddly, sir. Has she been seen since?" Tarot says "Or has she been seen slain before?" Brand says "Upon several occasions, it has been convenient for her to make it appear so. Considering that this most recent incident found her on the discomforting end of Benedict's poniard, I should say that it is rather prudent of her to remain deceased." Tarot says "I have heard that Prince Benedict is a bad choice of enemy, yes." Brand says "He is very quick, perhaps too quick, in more than one sense." Tarot says "To strike, sir, or do you suggest to judge?" Brand says "Why, both, when he is so moved." He smiles. Tarot nods slightly, noting the information. Tarot says "Why have you brought me here, sir?" Brand says "Whysoever not? It is a place of memory and of mystery." Tarot shrugs her shoulders slightly, and folds her arms. "Further philosophical debate, then, sir?" Her tone is wryly amused. Brand says "Hardly philosophical." He indicates a point farther out from where they are standing, where there appears to be something burnt into the grass. "She proceeded that far, and no further, before she was -- arrested? Interrupted? Dear me, how does one phrase these things?" Tarot's brow furrows. "Killed, perhaps? But proceeded in what sense, sir? What precisely is that design?" Brand chuckles. "The obelisk, here, marks the beginning of what once was a pattern. Perhaps I should call it a broken pattern -- you may have heard the term before." His eyes return to Tarot, inquisitive. Tarot nods. "Yes, I came across the term in a library in New London, and I have heard it from a number of people since. I have directed most of them to the same library." She half smiles. Brand says "So. At this place, there once was a Pattern of this kind." Now, the capitalization is evident from his pronunciation. "Too broken to be of use in any matter, except perhaps that which my sister found for it." Tarot's curiosity is evident. "What use was that, sir?" Brand says "She was in the midst of attuning a tool of her own design, you see. A gemstone to rival that needle Dworkin used in the inscription of the first Pattern. Some of my siblings considered this project overly hazardous." Brand says "And so, they brought to her their arguments, which did not bear rebuttal." Tarot nods slowly. "I see." Tarot says "I saw her body in the cemetery at Amber, a while ago, though I did not know who she was then." Brand says "Well. That is why she laid where she lies, and why she lies where she lays." Tarot raises an eyebrow, trying to unravel that. "So she yet lives?" Tarot says "And tell me, sir, who is this Dworkin, and what is this needle you refer to? If you would." Brand says "Some say she does." He smirks. "Dworkin is a madman, an artist, a doctor, and a disease. A player of records, a pioneer of structure, and a plater. Obsolete and ancient." Tarot says "And the creator of the Pattern?" Brand says "And the creator of the Pattern." Tarot says "Fascinating." Brand says "Why do you say so?" Tarot says "Well, all of this is new to me: while I knew of the Pattern, I never even knew that it had been created, and had not simply existed forever, or something of that nature." Tarot shrugs. "So I am most curious." Brand chuckles. "Oh, no. Not forever. Not at all." Tarot says "Then what was first?" Brand says "Before the Pattern? It depends upon who you ask. Who would you ask?" Tarot says "At the moment, sir, I would ask you, as you do appear to know." Brand chuckles. "A wise choice. Before the Pattern, there was a father and a son, a man with a dream, and a kingdom of sorts. Among sundry other things." Tarot says "Ah... could you be a touch more precise, sir?" Brand says "Which matter requires more exactness?" Tarot says "Well, the father, the son, the dream, the kingdom?" Tarot says "I fear I do not recognise any of your references. Unless one of the father or the son is Oberon: and even then, I only know his name as the father of your line, sir." Brand says "The father held the dream that would forge the Pattern, the son the ambition that would create -- Amber. And the kingdom was and is Chaos still." Tarot nods. "I see. My apologies. Please continue, sir." Brand says "There is little more that need be said about that time." Tarot says "But what happened next? Was Dworkin the father of Oberon? And how was the Pattern created?" Brand smiles indulgently. "Upon a tryst and a betrayal. Such are the foundations of the Pattern. Very meet, would you not agree?" Tarot says "Meet for what, sir?" Brand says "Why, for such a clan as are my kin." Tarot says "Trysting and betrayal? Perhaps: I know little of your kin save that most if not all are dangerous, sir, and none of you seem to overly trust the others." Brand starts to stroll across the plain, toward the spot he had indicated shortly after bringing Tarot through. "One household, one bloodline, indeed, one family. And there are reasons." Tarot follows Brand, a few feet behind. "Would you answer me if I asked you what they were, sir? These reasons?" Brand turns abruptly. "Which reasons?" Tarot pauses. "For mistrust." Brand says "New wounds that open old scabs. Memories, and experience, and lives lived in misguided expectations, awaited apprehensions. Argument and apologies and habits too old to break." Tarot nods silently. Brand spins on his heel and sets off again, jauntily. Brand says, offhandedly, "You should be wise in the choice of your enemies. They will last you longer than your friends." Tarot follows him, an expression of mild curiosity on her face. Tarot says "Then perhaps I should try not to make any, since I can claim no friendships." Brand says "Still do you claim no friendships? You are stubborn." Tarot says "Friendship implies that I would do something to aid them, sir: I can make no such claim." Brand says "You can, but you will not, even if others would aid you, even if others do aid you." Tarot pauses. "I.. If others do aid me, that is their own choice, but I cannot ask it of them or expect it of them." Brand stops walking a little past the spot he originally had pointed out, coincidentally when Tarot is approximately standing in it. He turns and motions for her to shift her position slightly, as if fine-tuning her location. Tarot moves slightly, her expression now slightly wary. Brand casts about and settles himself into a stance facing Tarot, perhaps a meter away or so. In the wizened brown grass, there is a course imprinted between them, perhaps not obvious at first. Brand says "Here and there. Not so very far now, is it?" Tarot says "No. A pace or two merely." Brand says "What separates us?" Tarot says "In spatial terms, a metre of air. In terms of the world, you are of the blood of Amber, real, and effectively immortal: I am a Shadow, unimportant, and must in time die." Brand says "And?" Tarot says "In terms of philosophy, I believe we disagree in many matters, but that is difficult to judge since you will so rarely state your point of view. In terms of the mind, you are far older than I, far more experienced, and more powerful than I will ever be." Brand says "And." Tarot shrugs slightly. "Well, you are male, and I am female: that is a difference. Other than that, I seem to be missing whatever point you wish to make, sir." Brand nods curtly, and raises his right hand, indicating for Tarot to approach him. His left hand remains at his side. At this angle, it appears to hold a knife. Tarot pauses. "What is your intention, sir?" Brand says "Come here." Tarot says "I would first ask you why, sir." Brand says, in the exact same tone of voice, "Come here." Tarot pauses a moment longer, then sighs. "If you were going to kill me, you could have done it a dozen times already." She takes a step forwards. Brand says absently, "Stay on the line." He waits for Tarot to come closer yet. Tarot takes another pace forward, remaining on the line. Brand holds his hand out to Tarot. "One more." You paged Tarot with 'The empty right hand, of course. :)' Tarot pauses for a moment, then takes another pace, and reaches out to take Brand's hand, with her own right hand. Brand brings his right hand back toward him, drawing Tarot nearer as his left hand stabs forward, carving a line across Tarot's stomach -- empty. You paged Tarot with 'It's just an empty hand. No actual cutting.' Tarot's whole body tenses as she flinches back. She relaxes slowly, slightly, still very tense. > From afar, Tarot nods. :) Tarot says "Why did you do that?" Tarot's voice is very controlled, on the edge of shaking. Brand frowns mildly, then shrugs slightly. "To see if it could be done." Tarot says "If I would trust you, when it looked as if you would kill me?" Brand says "Trust did not appear to play a role." Tarot says "Fatalism, then?" Brand says "Perhaps. What would you call it?" Tarot considers, her hand still tense in Brand's grip. "Perhaps I assumed that if you had not killed me before, you had no particular reason to kill me now." Brand says "Perhaps you ascribe to me too much consistency." Tarot shrugs slightly. "Perhaps also I think that if you wanted me dead then likely I would be dead, whether I were to stand or run." Brand says "Then why the pressure?" Tarot raises an eyebrow. "What pressure? I do not understand." Brand squeezes Tarot's hand, demonstratively. "Pressure. Stress. Tension." Tarot says "I do not particularly wish to die." Brand says "You are in no hurry to die, yet you trust in your inability to save yourself." Tarot shrugs. "I cannot fight. I can run, or hide, or dodge, or simply stand my ground. If you had wanted me dead, I rather think I would be dead, whatever I tried. If you do not: well then, why bother running?" Brand releases Tarot's hand. "Do you so stand, in the face of every threat?" Tarot's hand falls to her side. "Some I would try and evade, if I thought I had a chance of so doing." Brand says "These?" Tarot shrugs slightly. "Thanlis. Jasner. Anyone else who takes offense at my existence. I watch my back and take care where I step." Brand says "And you would stand against them all, yourself." Tarot says "I would try and evade them, as best I can." Brand says "What was it, that made you this way?" Tarot says "Presumably the vows I took, partly, and my own experiences." Brand folds his arms. "Your own experiences." Tarot shrugs, one shoulder. "What else should I base my thoughts and opinions on?" Brand says "Tell me of these." Tarot considers. "Any in particular, sir?" Brand says "The ones you would say made you what you are." Tarot folds her arms, thinking. Tarot says "I suppose being considered a halfbreed for my eyes and hair made it clear to me that prejudice on grounds of appearance was a singularly pointless thing. That is part of what I am, I think." Tarot says "And seeing the aftermaths of wars, learning the lists of dates, of numbers killed, and seeing such little result afterwards, the shifting of boundary lines a mere few metres, has given me little interest in wars myself." Tarot considers again. Brand unfolds his arms. "Surely that is not all. Or were these wars before you were employed as you are now?" Tarot says "I.. I do not remember what I was before I am what I am now." Tarot's tone is slightly hesitant. Brand says "You do not remember?" Tarot shakes her head. "No. Or at least, only a little. Shortly before I joined them." Brand says "What do you recall of that time?" Tarot says "I remember waking in a storm, wounded in the head and on the hand, found by a group of Passers. They gave me assistance: courtesy of the road. The next day they had to travel on, and while they could help me if I travelled with them, by that same courtesy, they could not change their path, nor aid me in any other way." Tarot says "So I travelled with them, across the wastes, and I came to like their way of life. I found comfort in it." Tarot says "So I joined them." Brand says "Wounded -- you do not know why?" Tarot says "I do not know. I can make a few guesses, but that is all." Brand says "Guess, then." Tarot says "There had been famine in that district, and disease, for the last couple of months. I was a halfbreed: I doubt that I was particularly accepted or liked, wherever I came from. The wounds suggested that I was attacked: I would imagine I was a scapegoat." Brand says "And how does this contribute?" Tarot says "To what I am? Maybe it suggests that I would be unwise to expect too much, or to hope for too much." Tarot says "Maybe it suggests that distance is safer, and life a very fragile thing, easily won, easily lost." Brand says "What else does it suggest to you?" Tarot says "That human beings have a tendency to throw stones at convenient scapegoats." Tarot's voice holds a note of bitterness. Brand says "And for this, you divorce yourself from the human race." Tarot says "No, not just for that." Tarot says "Is it so unreasonable to prefer calm to strife, and peace to trouble, and truth to confusion?" Brand says "It can be, if it leads in turn to an inability to live as one ought." Tarot tilts her head slightly. "And how ought one to live, sir?" Brand says "With drawn breath, the sight of heaven before, and the hounds of hell snapping at one's feet." Tarot says "I am currently in something of that position, sir, and I do not find it a particularly pleasant way to live. It would not be my choice." Brand says "And your choice?" Tarot says "What I am. What I had. What I want: peace, calm, not being hunted, not being pursued, not being regarded as a challenge, not being seen as an interesting oddity, and not having people throw tests at me just to see how I would react. Truth." Brand says "What did you have? And how far would you go in pursuit of what you want?" Tarot says "I used to have peace of mind. And I would go no further than my vows allow in obtaining what I want, sir." Brand says "I do not think you will get it." Tarot shrugs slightly. "Then I will manage as best I can." Brand says "Name for me your vows, again." Tarot says "To answer all questions truthfully. Not to answer anything that I am not asked. To renounce the world, to take no action, not to affect it, neither help nor harm. Accept no bindings. Take only the bare necessities to live. Travel, carry news, truth." Tarot says "I think that is the gist of them: they were couched in rather more ceremonial language." Brand says "Your truth will be the end of you, your renunciation a damper when it is assistance from others that you will require, and you will be tested until you break. This is what I see before you, beneath you, around you." Tarot shudders slightly for a moment, her eyes distant. Tarot says "But if I change from what I am, then I am broken in any case." Brand says "What is not yet broken may be mended. What is shattered may be beyond repair." Tarot sighs. "My vows are what I am, sir: I cannot imagine myself otherwise." Brand says "_I_ can see you otherwise." Tarot says "Then tell me, sir: what can you see?" Tarot's voice holds a note of curiosity. Brand says "I see a mind and a spirit blinkered, hooded. An ornament of glass in flight toward an impenetrable wall." Brand reaches out suddenly, toward Tarot's hand. "One sufficiently skilled might yet catch it and preserve it. Or not." Tarot pauses. "Sir.. It is part of what I am that I do not desire to be other than what I am, or conceive of being other than what I am." Tarot's hand is tense in Brand's. Brand's voice holds a very deep conviction. "You will break. But you may yet choose how, and there may still be something to piece together afterward." There is a note of faint bravado in Tarot's voice, an inch away from shaking. "Are you so certain, sir? I might survive. I might remain whole." Brand shakes his head. "In your current arrangement, the only question is when." Tarot says "Yet if I broke through choice, if I deliberately laid aside all that I am... I do not think that could ever be repaired." Brand says "And if you broke without it? That would be worse by far, for you will have no choice at all what you may become. Or unbecome." Tarot's voice shakes. "Maybe that is true, sir, but... I cannot make that choice. I cannot." Brand says "You can, and you must, or there will be none to help, only those who will prey. The vultures will come to pick at your eyes, the hyenas to laugh and say 'there she went, was that not something to see?'" Tarot's voice shakes again. "I cannot! Can't you understand, this is what I am, and there is nothing else! I am what I have become, I am the sum of my vows, I am my memories, and there is nothing else to me! I never had it, and I gave it up long ago!" Brand's eyes narrow. "You were never whole." Tarot controls her shaking. "I was sensible enough to see that the world was not worth the price I paid for it, and that separation was easier and better." Brand says, disdainfully, letting go of Tarot's hand, "Perhaps you were not worth the effort in the first place." Tarot folds her arms again, control present, but clearly with an effort. "Perhaps I was not. I am what I am." Brand's words are icy. "What will you be after you shatter?" Tarot shrugs. "Quite likely dead." Brand shakes his head. "I see a husk, a toy, or a mass of pain. Death is too easy, unless you would hunt it for yourself in release." Tarot says "I would rather be dead than be a toy, sir. As for pain, I do not know." Brand says "A toy would not have that option." Brand says "Don't you _see_?" Tarot nods. "I do. I do see, I do understand, and I am very much afraid. But I cannot be other than this, I _cannot_ break my vows and lose myself! Do you see?" Brand pauses. "No -- this I do not see. Not yet. Will you show me?" Tarot says "Show you what?" Tarot says "I do not understand." Brand says "Show me what you are, that your vows are your bones, that you know you will break and yet you do not bend." Tarot says "But how should I show you that? You tried to prove it once when you threatened to burn Amariel. How should I prove this to you?" Brand holds his hand out to Tarot again, capturing her gaze with his own. Tarot slowly holds out her hand to take his. Brand wraps his fingers around her hand. His grip is firm, his skin cool. Tarot is controlled again, though still tense: her eyes are guarded as she meets Brand's gaze. Memories. Following behind the group of dark-cloaked figures, nowhere else to go, follow them and they'll help, stay behind and they'll leave you to die. Uncompromising. Rules for a life. Something to hold on to. Something where there is nothing... Somewhere to go, some life to lead, some people who won't automatically condemn her either for her eyes or her hair, some centre to her life, some reason to continue, something to believe in, something to hold on to, because there's nothing else... Rain mixed with blood on her face as she tries to keep on walking, a flicker there for a moment of anger and bitterness and the screaming of a mob... No, that's gone, nothing but the rain and wind now, nothing but the wind... Games of the mind, of intelligence, no-one pulling at her feelings now, the simplicity of the wind and the steppes, the mountains, life drawn cleanly into lines, these are my oaths, these are what I am, this is me, this is. That is all. Someone died. Disease. One of us. Let him go, it's what we've all chosen to live by. Don't care. Don't accept bindings. Be free. It's what we've all chosen, it's peace, it's separation, it is what we have all chosen to become. Choice. The wind again, storm, like the other storm... Abide by the choices you've made, be what you are, or you lose everything, you lose the little you have, and then there's nothing. If I give up what I have, then there is nothing left, and I am lost. Brand says quietly, "You are empty. That is why. You see the cage you have made around yourself, and you say 'that is all I am, that is all I can be, that is all I ever wanted.'" Tarot says "But if I am detached, then I have freedom." Brand says, his voice rising, "When the cage breaks, and break it will, you will be empty again." Tarot has achieved a kind of calmness. "Then I shall have to try and rebuild my life again." Brand says "You will not have the opportunity. You have forgotten the scavengers already." Tarot says "Then I will at least have the consolation of knowing that I kept my vows, and remained myself, and did not lay that aside, for as long as possible!" Tarot's voice shakes as she loses her calm again. Brand says, almost gently, "Paltry recompense for the hell you shall be living." Tarot half turns away, suddenly. "Yes. I know. I.. I know. But I cannot be otherwise. And I would not." Brand says steadily, "Come back with me to the Keep, and we will speak more of this." Tarot's voice shakes again. "What more is there to say?" Brand says "More than you can imagine." There is bitterness in Tarot's voice. "I have a very poor imagination, sir, which is usually to my service, as then I have less to fear." Brand says "So I have noted." He starts to walk back to the horse, letting Tarot keep hold of his hand or let go of it, as she would. Tarot releases his hand, but slowly follows him.