Hey, Moons
Jul. 30th, 2007 08:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderr(for those that don't know, moons and I are writing stories for each other)
I sat down to write one thing, thinking chinese-y and alchemy, and this started writing instead. Don't know if it's your schtick. Lemme know what you think. If not, I'll try to beat the other vague idea into submission ^_~ S'all good either way ^___^
Now to try and get back to SMP now that I've written a chunk of this.
The Sage
Part I
"Chang, your family is the wealthiest and most respected in China town. They own the most famous Chinese restaurant in the state. Probably in several states. Why in the bloody hell are you sitting in this hole-in-the-wall Chinese buffet?"
"Their fried rice and banana pudding is killer," Chang replied. "Iced tea is perfect. I keep trying to get my mom to make it, but she won't do it. What do you want, Astor?"
Rolling his eyes, Astor shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook on the side of the booth, then slid into the cracked and faded booth seat across from Chang. He was slightly damp from sprinting from his car to the restaurant, rain pounding against the windows loudly enough to almost drown out the pseudo-Asian music playing over the speakers. "Just dropped Ling off, saw your car, though I'd come say hello."
Chang grunted and returned to decimating his plate of fried rice. "It is a shame to our family name that my brother has such poor taste as you."
"What can I say? Kitties like birds, and I am a very pretty bird."
Bright blonde hair, eyes that were damn near yellow, a deep tan that never vanished, and as a boy Astor had, when they were eleven, entered the Little Miss Thompson Elementary pageant – and made it to the final five before he was caught. He could no longer pass for a girl, but he was pretty.
"You're an idiot," Chang retorted, and stood up to get more fried rice. He gave the kid at the dessert buffet a warning look. If the brat took all the banana pudding, there was going to be a fight.
When he returned to the table, Astor was drinking hot tea – far too hot to be swallowed like that, unless of course you were Astor – and snickering. "Chang, stop glaring at little kids."
"Kids require discipline," Chang replied. "Just look at what happened to my little brother, when my parents let his upbringing slide."
Astor rolled his eyes again, and stood to get his own food. When he turned, his plate was heaped with Kung Pao Chicken, Beef Szechuan, Sezechuan Shrimp, General Tso's Chicken and a few Buffalo wings.
Chang grimaced and resumed eating his own fried rice – vegetable, not even a hint of meat. It was one of the other reasons he preferred this place; they were very particular to keep the veggie stuff separate from anything made with meat.
"Would you like a bit of flesh?" Astor asked with a grin, holding out a buffalo wing.
"Get that away from me or I will pluck every last one of your feathers."
Sniggering, Astor resumed decimating the contents of his plate. "So what are you doing all day, Chang?"
"Avoiding my parents," Chang said shortly. "I think that if they knew about our search for the Sage, they still would not consider it half as important as finding me a wife."
Astor devoured a chicken wing and threw the bare bones back down on his plate, licking buffalo sauce from his fingers. "You weren't betrothed at birth?"
"Every family they considered had only sons."
"They could have mail-ordered from the motherland," Astor pointed out. "Plenty of available girls there."
Chang threw a bit of carrot at him. "If you dare to suggest that within my parents' hearing, I will tell them all about you and Ling."
"Empty threat," Astor said with a grin. "Cause then I can turn right around and tell them what sort of porn you used to hide under your mattress."
Ignoring that, Chang finished eating his fried rice and went to relieve the dessert buffet of its remaining banana pudding.
"Speaking of your mother," Astor said as he sat back down, "does she know you come here?"
Chang glared. "What is your problem? My brother didn't give you a blowjob before he ran off with Shannon so you've come to relieve tension by pissing me off?"
Astor grinned.
"Don't answer that," Chang said before he could speak. "So what are you doing the rest of the day?"
"Nothing, really," Astor replied. "Are you up to something?"
Chang shook his head. "No. Dylan wants me to run around for him a bit."
"He goes golfing with your dad. He can pay for lackeys that don't have your attitude problem."
Pushing away his empty plate, Chang finished his iced tea and threw money down on the table, swiping one of the fortune cookies a waitress had dropped off earlier with the check. He ate the bits of cookie as he climbed into Astor's car; when they worked together, Astor almost always drove. As they pulled out of the parking lot, he finally replied to Astor's statement. "He says there's a slim possibility this might be Sage business. We both doubt it, but I said I'd check it out. He suggested dragging one of you along, but I didn't know where anyone was today and didn't feel like figuring it out."
Astor nodded, still munching fortune cookie, muffling a curse as someone cut him off. He pulled to a stop at the light and glanced down at his fortune and burst out laughing. "Ancient Chinese Wisdom says 'true love will soon be yours'" He winked. "In bed."
Rolling his eyes, Chang glanced at his own fortune. "I get 'Plan for many pleasures ahead.' Sheesh." He rolled his eyes again.
"Oh, hey, I'll trade." Stopping as they reached the next red light, Astor held out his slip of paper. "I already have true love; and I never get tired of 'many pleasures'. Your brother—"
"Shut up," Chang cut in.
"Hurry up and trade," Astor said, and for a moment his eyes seemed to flicker and glow, as though something within them was flickering.
Chang shook his head. "No way, bird. I'm not—" before he could finish speaking, Astor snatched his fortune away and pressed his own into Chang's hand.
"There," he said with a grin, and shoved his fortune in his jacket before Chang could snatch it back.
"Phoenix," Chang said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"No trade backs," Astor replied cheerfully.
Chang subsided into a sour silence.
"So where are we going?"
"The train station," Chang said sourly. "Dylan's got an old friend who trots the glob on some megalomaniac business thing. His son has recently finished college and all, father wants him to 'get a feel for the real world' but feared favoritism and shit in his own company."
Astor snorted. "So he sent him to work for his friend?"
"That friend being Dylan," Chang reminded.
"Ah, yes." Astor stopped talking after that, falling into swearing, threats, and hand gestures as he negotiated downtown traffic and finally reached the train station. "So why does this kid stand a slim chance of being the Sage?" he asked.
Chang shrugged. "Well-traveled, well-learned from what Dylan says. I mean his dad travels pretty much everywhere, and his family goes with him. But he's young, only 23, so the chances of his being the Sage…"
"But every possibility must be checked out," Astor said with a sigh, shoving through the main doors and irritably shaking off the rain.
"Poor birdie getting soaked?" Chang asked, dodging a playful swipe, raking back his own damp hair – short and neat, the way his mother liked, because she'd let him keep his pierced ear. He touched the stud set in it; a simple amethyst, but the color had stalked his dreams all his life. The Sage, he knew, was somehow connected with the color.
Despite himself, though he knew this was pretty much a waste of time, Chang could not help but hope. The Guardians were almost as anxious, but it wasn't the same. Their purpose was to protect. Chang was meant to serve, to guide, to assist. He wasn't complete without a Sage to serve.
Every time he went to investigate a possibility, his hopes got dashed.
Digging his cell out of his pocket, he pulled up the picture Dylan had sent him. The man was handsome, sort of aristocratic looking, like the people Dylan schmoozed with all the time but without the sour edge that came with doing it too long. He couldn't tell the eye color, but even in the tiny pic on his phone they came off as focused. If anything, Chang thought he was too good looking to be the Sage. The way his own luck constantly ran, he would be stuck serving some ugly smartass who thought Astor's jokes were funny. Too bad, because the ash blonde hair and fair skin were pretty indeed. He could have stood serving this man for the rest of his life, at least so far as the view went.
He showed the picture to Astor, then snapped his phone shut and shoved it back in the pocket of his jacket – a gift from his mother, he suspected sometimes she'd had it custom made. Stupid, it was just denim, but that was his mother. He half wondered if she'd have their underwear tailor made if anyone let her.
Following the signs, he finally settled in a rather sketchy looking chair and waited. Technically the train was due ten minutes ago, but anyone who lived in the city long enough knew all trains arrived at least a half hour late.
Beside him, Astor stretched out and dozed. Chang put out a quiet pulse to keep everyone back, that Astor would be able to catch a few minutes of uninterrupted sleep. He reached out to gently brush strands of hair from Astor's cheeks, smiling faintly at the mark low on his neck left by Ling.
He hoped they weren't being stupid about what marks were left on Ling. Some days he wasn’t' sure which would be more of a headache – revealing that the old family legend wasn't quite as ridiculous as his mostly-modern thinking parents thought, or that two of their five sons preferred kissing other boys.
Sighing, Chang cast his eyes over the crowd, willing his Sage to appear.
It was hard, waiting. His patience and perseverance were constantly complimented, and he'd never been able to tell anyone that he just faked it really well. He wanted the Sage to appear. So long they'd been waiting. In just over a month he'd be twenty-eight. He'd always thought he would at his Sage's side by now.
So meticulously they'd worked to make this city fit, for it was not coincidence that they all had come together here, and met. This was where their Sage would come…but when?
He stirred from his thoughts as he heard the arrival call for their train, and gently nudged Astor awake, tugging him up and moving to stand at the edge of the crowd.
People trickled out in a sardine-like crowd, but Chang did not see their quarry among any of them.
Astor patted his head. "It's okay; I'll keep an eye out, short stuff."
"I'm five seven and three quarters," Chang said icily.
"And that's very tall for a Chinaman, yes," Astor said with the patronizing tone only he would dare use to harass Chang.
Chang slapped his hand away. "Go to hell."
Astor grinned, but before he could further goad his eyes snapped back to the crowd. "There he is." He whistled. "Sure Dylan isn't asking us to pick up a trick?"
"Yeah, right. If he liked young and pretty, he would notice Shannon's mooning."
"I dunno, man. Dylan going to bed with 'an associate' and one almost fifteen years younger?" He dropped the conversation as Chang stepped forward and beckoned to the man for whom they'd been waiting.
"Mr. Waterhouse?" he asked, unable to tear his eyes away. The young man was much, much finer than his picture.
And it was more than a little pleasing the way those eyes widened at the sight of him.
"I'm Chang _____. This is Astor Burnes. Dylan Waterhouse sent us to pick you up." He extended his hand, barely containing his reaction at the way the hand in his own seemed almost to tingle.
Unfortunately, it was only with lust. This man was not the Sage. Chang tamped down on his disappointment.
"Call me Gage," Gage said, frowning slightly as he looked at Chang. "I hope I have not put you out."
Astor sneezed hard before Chang could reply.
Chang frowned and immediately turned toward him. "What's wrong?" he asked. Astor didn't get sick – his body was too hot, everything burned away. He only sneezed for one reason – dark magic. Astor was mildly allergic.
"He's wearing something," Astor said, pulling out a handkerchief and sneezing again. "Not much, but enough."
"What's going?" Gage asked as Chang took his hand and all but dragged him through the terminal and out to Astor's car, shoving him into the backseat and pulling out his cell as Astor got them out of there, headed towards the house Dylan had just outside the city proper.
"Dylan," he said when the phone picked up. "Not it, but he's wearing dark magic. How should I know? Figured we'd get to your place first. Not like…shut up." He snapped the phone off. "Dylan says bring him, he'll call the others. Shannon can probably tell us the origins."
Gage shifted in the backseat. "Pardon my language, but what the fuck is going on here?"
Chang debated between telling him to shut up, or trying for at least a bit of the truth. He didn't really want to go with truth, but if the kid was wearing dark magic then he probably already knew a bit about what was going on anyway. "You're wearing something which contains dark magic. That means you or someone close to you doesn’t like us much, or is trying to hide something."
"Or both," Astor muttered, then sneezed again.
Stifling a sigh, Chang fell silent. Between the Sage, his family – his mother, anyway – he seldom had any interest in what Astor called 'extracurricular activity'. The first man to stir a real interest in longer than he wanted to think about, and he was potentially a problem.
"Uh…do you mean the pendant my stepmother gave me?" Gage asked, unbuttoning his corduroy jacket and tugging out a plain silver medallion on a leather cord. Ostensibly it was plain, but as lightning flashed all around them, making the dark seem for a moment like high noon, there was no missing the runes spelled into it. Chang did not need his powers to read them; he had been thoroughly trained not to need them for such trivial things.
Marks of sealing, of harm to Sacred should they touch it.
Swearing softly, Chang nodded. "What does your stepmother do?"
"She's a scientist," Gage replied. "Helps make and improve various drugs and medicines."
Chang and Astor swore together.
"The Alchemist," Astor said, sneezing hard, as though allergic to the word.
"Quite possibly," Chang said.
Gage started to speak, but before he could they pulled up in front of the sort of house that was always called an estate or a manor. Chang had always called it House Creepy, and no one had ever disagreed with him. It looked like it had tumbled from the pages of a horror novel, and he swore sometimes Dylan arranged for the frequently-foul weather that made it look even worse.
Making a face, he climbed out of the car and bolted for the porch. "I'm sick of rain," he said to no one in particular. Astor and Gage both nodded.
"She said it was for good luck and safe journey," Gage said quietly, fingering the pendant. "She's always…been into stuff like that."
"I'd imagine so," said a strong, firm voice. "Chang. Astor. You must be Billy's son."
Gage nodded. "Yes. You're Mr. Waterhouse. Thank you for having me. My father send his greetings."
"Dylan, please," Dylan said warmly, though his dark brown eyes never left the pendant Gage still held. "This way. Shannon and Ling beat you here. I'll go fetch refreshments."
Rolling their eyes, because Shannon had completely cheated in traveling under cloud cover, they followed Dylan into what was far too grand to be called a living room. No, no. It was a parlor or front room. About the only thing it was missing was a horrific story to be told around the fire before people got locked up in the house and started killing each other.
He moved to sit in on the long couch opposite the chairs occupied by two other men – one looked almost exactly like himself. Short, black hair, dark eyes, their Chinese descent unmistakable except to those who thought all Asians looked alike.
Shannon occupied the other chair. His parents were on the board of the local university, both with academic backgrounds so prestigious it took an hour and a half to go through it all. Shannon was unmistakably their offspring, with more degrees and accolades and whatever all else at twenty seven than even his parents had – except that he focused on religion, mythology, literature, and history rather than the dizzying array of math and science his parents preferred.
They had never quite forgiven him that, so Shannon had never bothered trying to explain that his scientific mother was the one who passed on the gene that made him the Dragon. He had blue-black hair and shockingly-blue eyes, and a metabolism that kept him skinny and for which Chang hated him.
Chang rolled his eyes at the way his little brother all but threw himself into Astor's arms. "How've you been, Shannon?"
Shannon looked up from his laptop. "Well enough, thank you. Yourself?"
"Been better, I think, but you know. If I'd known I was going to see you today, I would have brought the candies I snitched from our latest shipment."
The mention of candy made Shannon brighten, but he waved a hand carelessly. "S'okay. I'll come by tomorrow and drop off those books I borrowed."
Seeing his brother and Astor still had not separated, Chang stole his brothers seat and let them steal the sofa and was pondering throwing something heavy at them, just for the hell of it, when Dylan reappeared.
Dylan didn't own the entire city, but it wasn't because he couldn't – he just firmly believed in the old 'slow and steady' axiom. A more conniving Turtle, Chang suspected, had never been born. This Turtle's shell was a tailored three piece suit. Today's choice was a deep brown to match his hair, a tie that brought out the gold flecks in his eyes.
The minute he walked in the room, Shannon's typing fell off abruptly. Dylan was smart about a lot of things, but Shannon wasn't one of them.
Sighing, Chang accepted the brandy Dylan held out to him, finally permitting his eyes to wander back to the young man standing anxiously beside the giant fireplace. "Welcome to the Mausoleum. Also know as House Creepy."
Gage's lips twitched. "I was thinking more House of Usher."
"I like my house, thank you very much," Dylan said with exaggerated pomp. "Now, my boy, why are you wearing that vile pendant?"
Momentary levity fading, Gage reached up to fiddle restlessly with his pendant. "My stepmother gave it to me, for good luck. I mean, she's into weird stuff…you called her The Alchemist before…"
Dylan rippled with surprise. "Truly?"
Gage frowned at them. "Uh…she doesn't know but I've heard other people call her that. Wasn't supposed to. She gave me this a day before I left, said she really would miss me." He flushed guiltily. "I shouldn't be saying this stuff."
Chang set his glass and stood up, moving to stand beside Gage, hardly realizing what he'd done until he was there. "It's alright. You've no reason to trust us, Gage, but I promise that you can. She gave you the necklace? Does she often give you such gifts?"
"No," Gage said slowly, wrinkling his nose. "But she always cooks our meals and makes me eat them. Doesn't matter where we are, what we're doing. At least one meal a day she makes and I have to eat. Always tastes nasty, but dad doesn't want to hurt her feelings." He shrugged, looking at Chang before dropping his gaze again. "Same reason I had to wear the necklace. Dad didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he made me take off the necklace my mom gave me." His face clouded as he spoke, clearly angry and hurt over this. "So I did. Somehow it doesn't surprise me she's evil – that's what you're saying right?"
Chang nodded. "Yeah, yeah she's evil. The question is – who are you that she's want to hide you from us?"
Gage licked his lips. "Who are you? Can I get rid of it?"
"Break it," Shannon said, pushing his glasses up his face. "Yank it off, break the chain."
Immediately Gage obeyed, reaching up and yanking hard at the necklace. Chang could still feel the poisonous magic, the way it kept them from touching Gage, from sensing whatever it was the medallion was blocking.
"Astor," Shannon said, motioning to the fire.
Chang grimaced and motioned Gage away.
Grinning, Astor slowly let go of Ling and moved to the fire. He ran a hand slowly through his hair, and when it fell away he was holding a brilliant scarlet and gold feather about the length of his hand. His eyes flashed as he tossed it into the fire, and suddenly the room was stifling, so hot that Chang longed for water. Dylan looked positively miserable.
"Throw it in the fire," Shannon ordered.
Gage stepped forward and tossed the necklace into the flames.
Astor returned the flames to normal with a lazy motion of his hand.
Chang went still, eyes widening in shock, and he nearly fell over as from his pocket Gage pulled another necklace – a string of amethyst. Against his fair skin, they were positively beautiful.
More beautiful still was the sudden way this young man called to him.
He knew from their silence that the others had seen by his expression just what Gage was.
"Sage," Chang breathed, taking Gage's hand and lifting it to his lips. Wholly inappropriate, his traditional parents would be horrified by his behavior, but Chang could only act.
The hand in his shook with surprise before going still. "What?" Gage asked. "Why…why am I not surprised you just did that?"
"Honored Sage," Dylan said, sweeping an elegant half-bow. "We have waited all our lives for this moment." The other three stood to stand with him, forming a neat line.
"What's going on?" Gage asked.
"They are you Sacred Guardians, and I suppose I should have introduced you normally before." He did not let go of the hand in his as he indicated each of the men in turn. "Dylan Waterhouse you know, of course. He is also Turtle, Guardian of the North. Astor is Phoenix, Guardian of the South. Shannon Skye is Dragon, Guardian of the East. Ling is my younger brother, and he is also Tiger, Guardian of West."
Gage nodded. "Those sound familiar. My mother used to tell me a story…"
"Your mother sounds like she was part of our world."
"It wouldn't surprise me," Gage said softly, smiling sadly as he thought of her. He shook his head slightly and looked at Chang. "Who are you?"
"He is Qilin," Dylan answered. "Your confidant, advisor, and companion for as long as you travel this road. His powers are yours alone to command. We all have waited long to serve you, Sage…but he has had the longest, most difficult wait."
Chang shot him a nasty glare. "Shut up or I'll have my mother turn you into soup."
Dylan snickered.
"So I'm…a sage?"
"You are the Sage," Chang said. "Wise and knowing, meant to guide the world."
"Is that all?" Gage asked weakly. "I don't see why I'm so special."
Shannon pushed his glasses up. "Therein lies part of your distinction. But you are also young yet, as are we all."
"Except Turtle," Astor taunted, grinning when Dylan pointedly ignored him. "We'll explain more as we go along, never fear. I'm guessing if your mother didn't explain it all, then you must have been in near-danger most of your life."
Gage nodded.
"Come, dinner should nearly be ready," Dylan said. "We'll eat in the kitchen."
"Oh, good," Ling said. "I hate your dining room."
Dylan made a face and led the way out, muttering about kids having no sense of humor.
As they walked, Gage's hand stayed clasped with Chang's. "So you're different from the others?"
"Yes," Chang said slowly, wondering if the question was good or bad. He could not tell for certain. "They guard, I advise. My sole purpose is to stand by your side, no matter what happens."
Gage smiled. "That doesn't sound so bad," he said quietly, eyes darting away.
Chang's brows went up. So he hadn't misread that moment at the train station. Interesting. His entire life had been spent waiting to serve his Sage…he had never pondered just how deep the relationship might run.
He smiled briefly, to think of how his parents would react if they knew of all this – that their son was Qilin, born to serve the Sage. If they did, their love of tradition would reach all new levels. They would have all but beaten out of him the notion of intimacy with the Sage.
They often had despaired at the state of his thoughts and mannerisms, constantly berating themselves for permitting him to go to public schools, hang out with 'that troublemaker' (and how he wanted to be there the day they found out what 'that troublemaker' did with Ling).
Meaning, essentially, that Chang had no problems whatsoever broadening the Sage's horizons in certain matters.
I sat down to write one thing, thinking chinese-y and alchemy, and this started writing instead. Don't know if it's your schtick. Lemme know what you think. If not, I'll try to beat the other vague idea into submission ^_~ S'all good either way ^___^
Now to try and get back to SMP now that I've written a chunk of this.
The Sage
Part I
"Chang, your family is the wealthiest and most respected in China town. They own the most famous Chinese restaurant in the state. Probably in several states. Why in the bloody hell are you sitting in this hole-in-the-wall Chinese buffet?"
"Their fried rice and banana pudding is killer," Chang replied. "Iced tea is perfect. I keep trying to get my mom to make it, but she won't do it. What do you want, Astor?"
Rolling his eyes, Astor shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook on the side of the booth, then slid into the cracked and faded booth seat across from Chang. He was slightly damp from sprinting from his car to the restaurant, rain pounding against the windows loudly enough to almost drown out the pseudo-Asian music playing over the speakers. "Just dropped Ling off, saw your car, though I'd come say hello."
Chang grunted and returned to decimating his plate of fried rice. "It is a shame to our family name that my brother has such poor taste as you."
"What can I say? Kitties like birds, and I am a very pretty bird."
Bright blonde hair, eyes that were damn near yellow, a deep tan that never vanished, and as a boy Astor had, when they were eleven, entered the Little Miss Thompson Elementary pageant – and made it to the final five before he was caught. He could no longer pass for a girl, but he was pretty.
"You're an idiot," Chang retorted, and stood up to get more fried rice. He gave the kid at the dessert buffet a warning look. If the brat took all the banana pudding, there was going to be a fight.
When he returned to the table, Astor was drinking hot tea – far too hot to be swallowed like that, unless of course you were Astor – and snickering. "Chang, stop glaring at little kids."
"Kids require discipline," Chang replied. "Just look at what happened to my little brother, when my parents let his upbringing slide."
Astor rolled his eyes again, and stood to get his own food. When he turned, his plate was heaped with Kung Pao Chicken, Beef Szechuan, Sezechuan Shrimp, General Tso's Chicken and a few Buffalo wings.
Chang grimaced and resumed eating his own fried rice – vegetable, not even a hint of meat. It was one of the other reasons he preferred this place; they were very particular to keep the veggie stuff separate from anything made with meat.
"Would you like a bit of flesh?" Astor asked with a grin, holding out a buffalo wing.
"Get that away from me or I will pluck every last one of your feathers."
Sniggering, Astor resumed decimating the contents of his plate. "So what are you doing all day, Chang?"
"Avoiding my parents," Chang said shortly. "I think that if they knew about our search for the Sage, they still would not consider it half as important as finding me a wife."
Astor devoured a chicken wing and threw the bare bones back down on his plate, licking buffalo sauce from his fingers. "You weren't betrothed at birth?"
"Every family they considered had only sons."
"They could have mail-ordered from the motherland," Astor pointed out. "Plenty of available girls there."
Chang threw a bit of carrot at him. "If you dare to suggest that within my parents' hearing, I will tell them all about you and Ling."
"Empty threat," Astor said with a grin. "Cause then I can turn right around and tell them what sort of porn you used to hide under your mattress."
Ignoring that, Chang finished eating his fried rice and went to relieve the dessert buffet of its remaining banana pudding.
"Speaking of your mother," Astor said as he sat back down, "does she know you come here?"
Chang glared. "What is your problem? My brother didn't give you a blowjob before he ran off with Shannon so you've come to relieve tension by pissing me off?"
Astor grinned.
"Don't answer that," Chang said before he could speak. "So what are you doing the rest of the day?"
"Nothing, really," Astor replied. "Are you up to something?"
Chang shook his head. "No. Dylan wants me to run around for him a bit."
"He goes golfing with your dad. He can pay for lackeys that don't have your attitude problem."
Pushing away his empty plate, Chang finished his iced tea and threw money down on the table, swiping one of the fortune cookies a waitress had dropped off earlier with the check. He ate the bits of cookie as he climbed into Astor's car; when they worked together, Astor almost always drove. As they pulled out of the parking lot, he finally replied to Astor's statement. "He says there's a slim possibility this might be Sage business. We both doubt it, but I said I'd check it out. He suggested dragging one of you along, but I didn't know where anyone was today and didn't feel like figuring it out."
Astor nodded, still munching fortune cookie, muffling a curse as someone cut him off. He pulled to a stop at the light and glanced down at his fortune and burst out laughing. "Ancient Chinese Wisdom says 'true love will soon be yours'" He winked. "In bed."
Rolling his eyes, Chang glanced at his own fortune. "I get 'Plan for many pleasures ahead.' Sheesh." He rolled his eyes again.
"Oh, hey, I'll trade." Stopping as they reached the next red light, Astor held out his slip of paper. "I already have true love; and I never get tired of 'many pleasures'. Your brother—"
"Shut up," Chang cut in.
"Hurry up and trade," Astor said, and for a moment his eyes seemed to flicker and glow, as though something within them was flickering.
Chang shook his head. "No way, bird. I'm not—" before he could finish speaking, Astor snatched his fortune away and pressed his own into Chang's hand.
"There," he said with a grin, and shoved his fortune in his jacket before Chang could snatch it back.
"Phoenix," Chang said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"No trade backs," Astor replied cheerfully.
Chang subsided into a sour silence.
"So where are we going?"
"The train station," Chang said sourly. "Dylan's got an old friend who trots the glob on some megalomaniac business thing. His son has recently finished college and all, father wants him to 'get a feel for the real world' but feared favoritism and shit in his own company."
Astor snorted. "So he sent him to work for his friend?"
"That friend being Dylan," Chang reminded.
"Ah, yes." Astor stopped talking after that, falling into swearing, threats, and hand gestures as he negotiated downtown traffic and finally reached the train station. "So why does this kid stand a slim chance of being the Sage?" he asked.
Chang shrugged. "Well-traveled, well-learned from what Dylan says. I mean his dad travels pretty much everywhere, and his family goes with him. But he's young, only 23, so the chances of his being the Sage…"
"But every possibility must be checked out," Astor said with a sigh, shoving through the main doors and irritably shaking off the rain.
"Poor birdie getting soaked?" Chang asked, dodging a playful swipe, raking back his own damp hair – short and neat, the way his mother liked, because she'd let him keep his pierced ear. He touched the stud set in it; a simple amethyst, but the color had stalked his dreams all his life. The Sage, he knew, was somehow connected with the color.
Despite himself, though he knew this was pretty much a waste of time, Chang could not help but hope. The Guardians were almost as anxious, but it wasn't the same. Their purpose was to protect. Chang was meant to serve, to guide, to assist. He wasn't complete without a Sage to serve.
Every time he went to investigate a possibility, his hopes got dashed.
Digging his cell out of his pocket, he pulled up the picture Dylan had sent him. The man was handsome, sort of aristocratic looking, like the people Dylan schmoozed with all the time but without the sour edge that came with doing it too long. He couldn't tell the eye color, but even in the tiny pic on his phone they came off as focused. If anything, Chang thought he was too good looking to be the Sage. The way his own luck constantly ran, he would be stuck serving some ugly smartass who thought Astor's jokes were funny. Too bad, because the ash blonde hair and fair skin were pretty indeed. He could have stood serving this man for the rest of his life, at least so far as the view went.
He showed the picture to Astor, then snapped his phone shut and shoved it back in the pocket of his jacket – a gift from his mother, he suspected sometimes she'd had it custom made. Stupid, it was just denim, but that was his mother. He half wondered if she'd have their underwear tailor made if anyone let her.
Following the signs, he finally settled in a rather sketchy looking chair and waited. Technically the train was due ten minutes ago, but anyone who lived in the city long enough knew all trains arrived at least a half hour late.
Beside him, Astor stretched out and dozed. Chang put out a quiet pulse to keep everyone back, that Astor would be able to catch a few minutes of uninterrupted sleep. He reached out to gently brush strands of hair from Astor's cheeks, smiling faintly at the mark low on his neck left by Ling.
He hoped they weren't being stupid about what marks were left on Ling. Some days he wasn’t' sure which would be more of a headache – revealing that the old family legend wasn't quite as ridiculous as his mostly-modern thinking parents thought, or that two of their five sons preferred kissing other boys.
Sighing, Chang cast his eyes over the crowd, willing his Sage to appear.
It was hard, waiting. His patience and perseverance were constantly complimented, and he'd never been able to tell anyone that he just faked it really well. He wanted the Sage to appear. So long they'd been waiting. In just over a month he'd be twenty-eight. He'd always thought he would at his Sage's side by now.
So meticulously they'd worked to make this city fit, for it was not coincidence that they all had come together here, and met. This was where their Sage would come…but when?
He stirred from his thoughts as he heard the arrival call for their train, and gently nudged Astor awake, tugging him up and moving to stand at the edge of the crowd.
People trickled out in a sardine-like crowd, but Chang did not see their quarry among any of them.
Astor patted his head. "It's okay; I'll keep an eye out, short stuff."
"I'm five seven and three quarters," Chang said icily.
"And that's very tall for a Chinaman, yes," Astor said with the patronizing tone only he would dare use to harass Chang.
Chang slapped his hand away. "Go to hell."
Astor grinned, but before he could further goad his eyes snapped back to the crowd. "There he is." He whistled. "Sure Dylan isn't asking us to pick up a trick?"
"Yeah, right. If he liked young and pretty, he would notice Shannon's mooning."
"I dunno, man. Dylan going to bed with 'an associate' and one almost fifteen years younger?" He dropped the conversation as Chang stepped forward and beckoned to the man for whom they'd been waiting.
"Mr. Waterhouse?" he asked, unable to tear his eyes away. The young man was much, much finer than his picture.
And it was more than a little pleasing the way those eyes widened at the sight of him.
"I'm Chang _____. This is Astor Burnes. Dylan Waterhouse sent us to pick you up." He extended his hand, barely containing his reaction at the way the hand in his own seemed almost to tingle.
Unfortunately, it was only with lust. This man was not the Sage. Chang tamped down on his disappointment.
"Call me Gage," Gage said, frowning slightly as he looked at Chang. "I hope I have not put you out."
Astor sneezed hard before Chang could reply.
Chang frowned and immediately turned toward him. "What's wrong?" he asked. Astor didn't get sick – his body was too hot, everything burned away. He only sneezed for one reason – dark magic. Astor was mildly allergic.
"He's wearing something," Astor said, pulling out a handkerchief and sneezing again. "Not much, but enough."
"What's going?" Gage asked as Chang took his hand and all but dragged him through the terminal and out to Astor's car, shoving him into the backseat and pulling out his cell as Astor got them out of there, headed towards the house Dylan had just outside the city proper.
"Dylan," he said when the phone picked up. "Not it, but he's wearing dark magic. How should I know? Figured we'd get to your place first. Not like…shut up." He snapped the phone off. "Dylan says bring him, he'll call the others. Shannon can probably tell us the origins."
Gage shifted in the backseat. "Pardon my language, but what the fuck is going on here?"
Chang debated between telling him to shut up, or trying for at least a bit of the truth. He didn't really want to go with truth, but if the kid was wearing dark magic then he probably already knew a bit about what was going on anyway. "You're wearing something which contains dark magic. That means you or someone close to you doesn’t like us much, or is trying to hide something."
"Or both," Astor muttered, then sneezed again.
Stifling a sigh, Chang fell silent. Between the Sage, his family – his mother, anyway – he seldom had any interest in what Astor called 'extracurricular activity'. The first man to stir a real interest in longer than he wanted to think about, and he was potentially a problem.
"Uh…do you mean the pendant my stepmother gave me?" Gage asked, unbuttoning his corduroy jacket and tugging out a plain silver medallion on a leather cord. Ostensibly it was plain, but as lightning flashed all around them, making the dark seem for a moment like high noon, there was no missing the runes spelled into it. Chang did not need his powers to read them; he had been thoroughly trained not to need them for such trivial things.
Marks of sealing, of harm to Sacred should they touch it.
Swearing softly, Chang nodded. "What does your stepmother do?"
"She's a scientist," Gage replied. "Helps make and improve various drugs and medicines."
Chang and Astor swore together.
"The Alchemist," Astor said, sneezing hard, as though allergic to the word.
"Quite possibly," Chang said.
Gage started to speak, but before he could they pulled up in front of the sort of house that was always called an estate or a manor. Chang had always called it House Creepy, and no one had ever disagreed with him. It looked like it had tumbled from the pages of a horror novel, and he swore sometimes Dylan arranged for the frequently-foul weather that made it look even worse.
Making a face, he climbed out of the car and bolted for the porch. "I'm sick of rain," he said to no one in particular. Astor and Gage both nodded.
"She said it was for good luck and safe journey," Gage said quietly, fingering the pendant. "She's always…been into stuff like that."
"I'd imagine so," said a strong, firm voice. "Chang. Astor. You must be Billy's son."
Gage nodded. "Yes. You're Mr. Waterhouse. Thank you for having me. My father send his greetings."
"Dylan, please," Dylan said warmly, though his dark brown eyes never left the pendant Gage still held. "This way. Shannon and Ling beat you here. I'll go fetch refreshments."
Rolling their eyes, because Shannon had completely cheated in traveling under cloud cover, they followed Dylan into what was far too grand to be called a living room. No, no. It was a parlor or front room. About the only thing it was missing was a horrific story to be told around the fire before people got locked up in the house and started killing each other.
He moved to sit in on the long couch opposite the chairs occupied by two other men – one looked almost exactly like himself. Short, black hair, dark eyes, their Chinese descent unmistakable except to those who thought all Asians looked alike.
Shannon occupied the other chair. His parents were on the board of the local university, both with academic backgrounds so prestigious it took an hour and a half to go through it all. Shannon was unmistakably their offspring, with more degrees and accolades and whatever all else at twenty seven than even his parents had – except that he focused on religion, mythology, literature, and history rather than the dizzying array of math and science his parents preferred.
They had never quite forgiven him that, so Shannon had never bothered trying to explain that his scientific mother was the one who passed on the gene that made him the Dragon. He had blue-black hair and shockingly-blue eyes, and a metabolism that kept him skinny and for which Chang hated him.
Chang rolled his eyes at the way his little brother all but threw himself into Astor's arms. "How've you been, Shannon?"
Shannon looked up from his laptop. "Well enough, thank you. Yourself?"
"Been better, I think, but you know. If I'd known I was going to see you today, I would have brought the candies I snitched from our latest shipment."
The mention of candy made Shannon brighten, but he waved a hand carelessly. "S'okay. I'll come by tomorrow and drop off those books I borrowed."
Seeing his brother and Astor still had not separated, Chang stole his brothers seat and let them steal the sofa and was pondering throwing something heavy at them, just for the hell of it, when Dylan reappeared.
Dylan didn't own the entire city, but it wasn't because he couldn't – he just firmly believed in the old 'slow and steady' axiom. A more conniving Turtle, Chang suspected, had never been born. This Turtle's shell was a tailored three piece suit. Today's choice was a deep brown to match his hair, a tie that brought out the gold flecks in his eyes.
The minute he walked in the room, Shannon's typing fell off abruptly. Dylan was smart about a lot of things, but Shannon wasn't one of them.
Sighing, Chang accepted the brandy Dylan held out to him, finally permitting his eyes to wander back to the young man standing anxiously beside the giant fireplace. "Welcome to the Mausoleum. Also know as House Creepy."
Gage's lips twitched. "I was thinking more House of Usher."
"I like my house, thank you very much," Dylan said with exaggerated pomp. "Now, my boy, why are you wearing that vile pendant?"
Momentary levity fading, Gage reached up to fiddle restlessly with his pendant. "My stepmother gave it to me, for good luck. I mean, she's into weird stuff…you called her The Alchemist before…"
Dylan rippled with surprise. "Truly?"
Gage frowned at them. "Uh…she doesn't know but I've heard other people call her that. Wasn't supposed to. She gave me this a day before I left, said she really would miss me." He flushed guiltily. "I shouldn't be saying this stuff."
Chang set his glass and stood up, moving to stand beside Gage, hardly realizing what he'd done until he was there. "It's alright. You've no reason to trust us, Gage, but I promise that you can. She gave you the necklace? Does she often give you such gifts?"
"No," Gage said slowly, wrinkling his nose. "But she always cooks our meals and makes me eat them. Doesn't matter where we are, what we're doing. At least one meal a day she makes and I have to eat. Always tastes nasty, but dad doesn't want to hurt her feelings." He shrugged, looking at Chang before dropping his gaze again. "Same reason I had to wear the necklace. Dad didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he made me take off the necklace my mom gave me." His face clouded as he spoke, clearly angry and hurt over this. "So I did. Somehow it doesn't surprise me she's evil – that's what you're saying right?"
Chang nodded. "Yeah, yeah she's evil. The question is – who are you that she's want to hide you from us?"
Gage licked his lips. "Who are you? Can I get rid of it?"
"Break it," Shannon said, pushing his glasses up his face. "Yank it off, break the chain."
Immediately Gage obeyed, reaching up and yanking hard at the necklace. Chang could still feel the poisonous magic, the way it kept them from touching Gage, from sensing whatever it was the medallion was blocking.
"Astor," Shannon said, motioning to the fire.
Chang grimaced and motioned Gage away.
Grinning, Astor slowly let go of Ling and moved to the fire. He ran a hand slowly through his hair, and when it fell away he was holding a brilliant scarlet and gold feather about the length of his hand. His eyes flashed as he tossed it into the fire, and suddenly the room was stifling, so hot that Chang longed for water. Dylan looked positively miserable.
"Throw it in the fire," Shannon ordered.
Gage stepped forward and tossed the necklace into the flames.
Astor returned the flames to normal with a lazy motion of his hand.
Chang went still, eyes widening in shock, and he nearly fell over as from his pocket Gage pulled another necklace – a string of amethyst. Against his fair skin, they were positively beautiful.
More beautiful still was the sudden way this young man called to him.
He knew from their silence that the others had seen by his expression just what Gage was.
"Sage," Chang breathed, taking Gage's hand and lifting it to his lips. Wholly inappropriate, his traditional parents would be horrified by his behavior, but Chang could only act.
The hand in his shook with surprise before going still. "What?" Gage asked. "Why…why am I not surprised you just did that?"
"Honored Sage," Dylan said, sweeping an elegant half-bow. "We have waited all our lives for this moment." The other three stood to stand with him, forming a neat line.
"What's going on?" Gage asked.
"They are you Sacred Guardians, and I suppose I should have introduced you normally before." He did not let go of the hand in his as he indicated each of the men in turn. "Dylan Waterhouse you know, of course. He is also Turtle, Guardian of the North. Astor is Phoenix, Guardian of the South. Shannon Skye is Dragon, Guardian of the East. Ling is my younger brother, and he is also Tiger, Guardian of West."
Gage nodded. "Those sound familiar. My mother used to tell me a story…"
"Your mother sounds like she was part of our world."
"It wouldn't surprise me," Gage said softly, smiling sadly as he thought of her. He shook his head slightly and looked at Chang. "Who are you?"
"He is Qilin," Dylan answered. "Your confidant, advisor, and companion for as long as you travel this road. His powers are yours alone to command. We all have waited long to serve you, Sage…but he has had the longest, most difficult wait."
Chang shot him a nasty glare. "Shut up or I'll have my mother turn you into soup."
Dylan snickered.
"So I'm…a sage?"
"You are the Sage," Chang said. "Wise and knowing, meant to guide the world."
"Is that all?" Gage asked weakly. "I don't see why I'm so special."
Shannon pushed his glasses up. "Therein lies part of your distinction. But you are also young yet, as are we all."
"Except Turtle," Astor taunted, grinning when Dylan pointedly ignored him. "We'll explain more as we go along, never fear. I'm guessing if your mother didn't explain it all, then you must have been in near-danger most of your life."
Gage nodded.
"Come, dinner should nearly be ready," Dylan said. "We'll eat in the kitchen."
"Oh, good," Ling said. "I hate your dining room."
Dylan made a face and led the way out, muttering about kids having no sense of humor.
As they walked, Gage's hand stayed clasped with Chang's. "So you're different from the others?"
"Yes," Chang said slowly, wondering if the question was good or bad. He could not tell for certain. "They guard, I advise. My sole purpose is to stand by your side, no matter what happens."
Gage smiled. "That doesn't sound so bad," he said quietly, eyes darting away.
Chang's brows went up. So he hadn't misread that moment at the train station. Interesting. His entire life had been spent waiting to serve his Sage…he had never pondered just how deep the relationship might run.
He smiled briefly, to think of how his parents would react if they knew of all this – that their son was Qilin, born to serve the Sage. If they did, their love of tradition would reach all new levels. They would have all but beaten out of him the notion of intimacy with the Sage.
They often had despaired at the state of his thoughts and mannerisms, constantly berating themselves for permitting him to go to public schools, hang out with 'that troublemaker' (and how he wanted to be there the day they found out what 'that troublemaker' did with Ling).
Meaning, essentially, that Chang had no problems whatsoever broadening the Sage's horizons in certain matters.
