![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrI'm not certain anyone remember this one ^^;; Writing it for my darling Moons. Part IV, the other parts can be found under the sage tag.
Hopefully I got it right. It's been ages since I've tackled this verse x.x Still rough, cause I'm going out and my betas aren't around but I wanted Moons to see it whenever she appeared. I'll get to beta'ing it eventually, and hopefully while I'm out I'll recall what I wanted for the last two parts -__-
Anyway.
Part IV: Dylan
"So far we have been introduced to the Alchemist, the Monk, and the Huntsman," Dylan said with a sigh. That meant the Tyrant was likely to be making his appearance soon, and Dylan wasn't looking forward to it.
Equals in powers and strength, parallels and opposites, the four destined foes of the sacred Guardians.
Phoenix against Alchemist.
Dragon against Monk.
Tiger against Huntsman.
Turtle against Tyrant.
Assuming they defeated those four, there still remained the last two great enemies – the Prophet himself, dark equal to the Sage, assisted by the soulless Seer. He felt tired just thinking about it sometimes. All his life, it seemed, he had worked and worked for this moment that was finally coming – and even when their greatest enemies failed, because he had worked too hard to allow anything but a victory for the Sage – and after it was over, still the work would not be done.
The Sage would change the world someday, if he was given a chance.
He was slow and steady, and could continue on forever, but still Dylan felt weighed down by it all occasionally. The others were significantly younger than he; when they were still children ignorant of their fates, he had been laying the foundations here. So long he had worked alone…
The depressing thought made him look up, and Dylan could not help smiling faintly at the man who had so recently dispelled the last lingering traces of his loneliness.
He had power, wealth, friends, companions, employees – all of it. Though the Sage was his liege lord, the ruler of them all, Dylan was well aware he himself owned at least half the city and the rest he let be because he did not yet have any real need to own it.
Still, there was little point in being a King when there was no one with whom to enjoy the spoils. Meeting his fellow Guardians had done much to soothe his feelings of isolation…but loneliness had persisted.
It wasn't until he realized that someone had been watching him all along that he realized he hadn't been alone for a very long time – just blind.
The soft clicking of keys was the only sound in his study; the weather had been foul enough today that he and Shannon had chosen to stay at home and work. They all might make fun of his house for being something out of a Poe story, but it was a fine house.
Even finer with its latest permanent addition. Shannon worked steadily, the clicking of his keys the only thing keeping Dylan working. Certainly Shannon himself was not helping him focus, and Dylan marveled again that he'd been oblivious for so long.
Seriously. He prided himself on his intelligence; it made him what he was – yet he'd completely missed Shannon. Perhaps it was the age gap, though that hardly mattered when it came to being Guardians.
At least he'd finally noticed. Since they'd decided to stay home, Shannon had gotten dressed only in the barest definition of the term – faded gray lounge pants and a black tank top that clung far too well to his skinny frame and only emphasized the true blue-black of his hair
It was the fierce concentration on his face, the skill with which he manipulated magic, the flashing of his too blue to be real eyes, that Dylan loved best. Nothing was finer than the Dragon lost to his magic.
Except, perhaps, Shannon in passion – and wasn't that a sight it had never occurred to Dylan to see, but which now he could not live without.
Thunder rumbled as though from a distance, unable to break entirely through the impressive work of Dylan's house. Not entirely soundproof, but nearly. Dylan turned back to his work, an endless tide of paperwork intermixed with Guardian work. He did not have Shannon's impressive laptop – he much preferred a more hands-on approach, and could constantly sense and feel his hundreds of spells scattered about the city.
But, his efforts were in laying the magic directly into what he built, rebuilt, etc. Shannon wove layer upon layer over the city. A million spiderwebs delicately stitched together and overlapping each other. His spells were more like the foundations upon which everything else relied, helping to form a hard shell around the city.
Dylan finished off an email to his secretary, then six more, and drafted three letters, mailing those off to his secretary and responding to her reply to the previous email. Checking his schedule, he rearranged six meetings and approved adding in three more.
Then he shut his computer off and stood up, stretching with a long groan, feeling his neck and back pop. "That's enough work for the day, I say."
Shannon's furious typing abruptly stopped, and those so-blue eyes blinked at him before a smile – still so hesitant, sweet and endearing – curved his lips. "Oh? I thought the great Mr. Waterhouse never stopped working."
Dylan rolled his eyes and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the deep leather sofa on which Shannon was stretched out. "The great Mr. Waterhouse has better things to do than check his email all day."
The laptop shut with a click, and Dylan took it from him to set on a nearby side table. Slender fingers buried themselves in his hair, petting him lightly before Shannon dragged him down for a kiss.
He wondered how he'd gone so long without this. Shannon tasted like a spring rain shower, sharp and bright and fresh. He was warm and pliant, clinging as though trying to wrap his long coils about Dylan.
It was a heady feeling. Dylan bundled him close, twisting and turning so that he lay on the couch with Shannon on top of him. He put his mouth to the skin of Shannon's throat, sucking up a mark, laughing softly at the way that made Shannon gasp and twist and moan.
Such a fine sound deserved a kiss, and Dylan gave it, taking Shannon's mouth and ravaging it thoroughly as he stroked and petted, lingering shamelessly on the curve of Shannon's ass. Truly he wondered what had taken him so long – from the moment Shannon had shivered in his arms in the train station, he had not been able to figure out how he'd gone so long without feeling that.
The sharp, piercing ring of a cell phone jarred him, and he bit down a tad too hard on Shannon's lip, making him grunt.
With a soft curse Shannon tore away, sitting up to straddle Dylan, twisting around in a way that could only be described as torturous, to snatch up his phone from the side table "Yes?" he asked, and though he tried for aplomb, it was rather obvious what he'd been interrupted in doing – and from the hot flush to his cheeks, Shannon knew it.
Dylan tucked one arm behind his head, reclining lazily, using his other hand to continue torturing Shannon as he talked – but then Shannon went abruptly white, and grabbed his hand, and nothing was funny anymore.
"I'm on my way," Shannon said, voice hoarse, and he began to shake something fierce. He didn't even hang up the phone, simply let it fall to the ground.
Dylan yanked him down, holding tight, offering whatever feeble comfort he could. "What's wrong?"
Tears soaked his shirt. "My mother's dead," Shannon said. "They just found her in her office." He sat up. "I have to go."
"I'll take you," Dylan said, reaching up to brush away the tears with his thumbs, cupping Shannon's face. He dragged him down and kissed Shannon softly, then let him go. "Go get dressed."
Nodding, obviously a million miles away, Shannon half walked, half stumbled from the room.
Dylan stood and moved to his desk, snatching up his own phone, hitting speed dial. "Chang, Shannon's mother is dead. We just got the call. I doubt this is coincidence. Keep Gage close. Find Astor and Ling, put them on the prowl."
Receiving an affirmative from Change, Dylan shut his phone and packed up Shannon's laptop, then went to get his shoes and jacket, grabbing Shannon's as well.
Shannon looked frozen from the inside out as he came down the stairs. With stiff moments he accepted his laptop bag, sliding on the jacket and shoes.
"Come on," Dylan said, taking his hand, leading him to the garage.
The trip to the city passed in silence.
He parked in the first spot he could find on the ever crowded campus, then helped Shannon out of the car.
Shannon didn't react, not even to the rain that started to fall – and Shannon adored thunderstorms.
Dylan took his hands, holding them tight, then let one go to tilt Shannon's head up. "Shannon, I know this is hard, but you've got to focus. It was probably the Monk that did this, and you can't face him like this. Keep it up and he's already won. Don't let him best you, Dragon."
Something flashed in Shannon's eyes, the power and magic unique to the Dragon. "I won't," he said softly. He squeezed Dylan's hand, then turned and strode through the campus, headed straight for the building where his mother spent so much time.
The crowds of people were ridiculous. Dylan's lip curled in disgust that people would so eagerly assemble to gawk at tragedy.
Shannon snarled as people got in his way – but those who shouted abruptly fell silent as they realized who he was, for no one would fail to recognize the son of the famous woman who lay dead within.
As suddenly as he'd started forward, Shannon turned around and fled.
Dylan chased after him, catching his arm as they ducked out of sight behind a smaller building. "Shannon, what—"
"We can't go in there with everyone staring at us. We'll n—" He stopped, swallowed, blinked back tears. "We'll never get anything done. We're both too well known. Everyone needs to go the hell away – especially as the cops are probably wrecking whatever magical evidence may linger."
"Then let me take care of it," Dylan said. "You save your energy for more important things."
Shannon nodded, though his fingers only slowly slid away from the fastening of his laptop bag.
Stroking his cheek lightly, aching to just take Shannon home and let him grieve in peace, Dylan then knelt on the ground and dug his fingers into the earth. He was significantly older than the others for one very important reason – he was precise, thorough, conscientious, but slow. He worked best when he had plenty of time to work. All his spells had been built one layer at a time, over the course of several years, but it made them strong and reliable in a way most other magic simply could not be. Even Shannon's spells required a high level of maintenance, constant checking and tweaking, and there was strength in the flexibility that offered…
But his spells had their strengths as well. Always ready and waiting for him, answering the call and doing his bidding without a moment of hesitation. Reaching out, to dormant spells deep beneath the city, he woke them and bid it do his will.
He'd never needed them before, but he'd always known he would.
The spell moved up through the earth, emotions bound in ancient runes, set where no eyes would ever see them – but released, all would feel it. He listened with half an ear as people abruptly left, unknowingly compelled to do other things. The cops resisted, their training and instinct fighting against Dylan's powerful compulsion.
Half an hour later, he finally stood up again, brushing dirt from his hands. "There," he said quietly. "We should have a good hour or so before anyone comes back this way."
Shannon smiled. It was a pale imitation of the bright ones he usually gave Dylan, but it was better than the awful blankness which had dominated his face since the phone call. "Thank you."
"Of course," Dylan said, and took his hand as they made their way back to the science building.
To most of the world, her death would always remain a mystery. Unknown causes was what would eventually be written on her death certificate. Had he not known better, Dylan would have thought she simply stopped between one breath and the next.
She still sat at her desk; they'd not had time to move the body. It almost looked as though she was still alive, bent over the paperwork in front of her, working diligently away. Shannon was her spitting image, except he'd always possessed a gentleness his mother had always lacked. Dylan had encountered her more than once in various social circles, it long being to his benefit to mesh well with the local academia – but while he'd never hated the woman, he'd never liked her either.
Still, not even a contemptible person deserved to be slain by a curse. From the magical residue, the way she quite literally died between one breath and the next – the curse had been both slow and sudden.
Slow to build, slow to permeate her body, but once it filled her the reaction had been instantaneous.
He wondered if the Monk had planted the curse that night they'd met – and how stupid of him and Shannon both not to think of that. Then again, what was the point in killing Shannon's mother? She had nothing to do with this.
Unless the sole purpose had been to shake the Dragon.
Dylan finally glanced away from the gruesome sight of the dead woman to look at his lover, hating that only an hour ago they'd been lost to pleasure, and now Shannon looked as though he were holding on to himself by the barest thread.
Still, the Dragon was too powerful a creature to be so easily felled. Despite the trembling of his hands, Shannon pulled out his laptop and flipped it open. Sitting down on the small sofa at the opposite end of the office, he began to type at a dizzying pace.
Though usually content to sit and watch and wait, their time was limited, and Dylan didn't feel like wasting it. Leaving Shannon to his laptop, he went to work in his own way. Casting spells would take too much time, but he didn't need spells to feel out magic, and he was very, very good at feeling out small bits of magic.
Holding out his hand, splaying his fingers, Dylan focused on searching out magical residue, closing his eyes, rejecting all his senses, pouring his focus into simply feeling.
A minute later his eyes snapped open, a soft curse filling the room as he snatched up an envelope and yanked out the sheets of paper inside. Relief and dismay poured through him as he realized what had actually happened.
Relief that it wasn't actually the Monk responsible – that would be a great deal of weight off Shannon's shoulders.
Dismay because the Tyrant had made his debut, and he'd done by attacking Dylan's weakness. Given the scheme must have taken months to plan, prepare, and execute, and he'd only been with Shannon less than two weeks…
That meant the Seer was involved, which meant the plan could be even more intricate than it seemed already.
Dylan took the letter to Shannon, who nodded and began to analyze it.
"He bought property from your mother," Dylan said "That means he has a legitimate reason to be in this city, and our wards are useless. I thought I'd blocked all those avenues, but it would seem I missed one."
The ghost of a smile flicked across Shannon's face. "But you probably accounted for the fact that you might miss something."
"Yes," Dylan said. "Is there a trap laid somewhere?"
"Not according to my analyses," Shannon said. "He knew she'd eventually sign it over; he's been laying the curse piece by piece ever since they started communicating. The Monk must have come to meet me and double check the curse was setting right. They did it so we wouldn't sense it, bastards." A tear slipped down his cheek, and he angrily brushed it away. "They won't use the same trick twice, though, now that I'm aware of the curse I can calibrate my spells to look for things like it."
Dylan stroked one cheek, part of him wondering yet again why it had taken him so long to really see Shannon…the other part wishing he was still oblivious, because it was his caring for Shannon which had resulted in his mother's death.
"It's okay," Shannon whispered.
"It's not," Dylan said quietly.
Shannon turned his head and kissed his palm. "We knew shit like this would happen. Let's just stop the bastard."
"Oh, I will," Dylan said. "The Tyrant's problem is his arrogance and love of power. He went to these extremes to gain access to the city simply because he could. To intimidate. Such complicated magic over a prolonged period of time probably wore him out." Dylan smirked. "I know this part of the city, and calling in a handful of favors will see to it that by the end of the week, I not only own it, but will have it razed and construction of something new begun."
Shannon laughed softly. "Not a scrap of magic involved, huh?"
"Precisely," Dylan replied. "The magic I'll save for more important things." Like killing the Tyrant slowly and painfully. The Seer had to have known the Tyrant's plan might not work; the question was had he told the Tyrant that?
Probably not.
Still, it meant there was probably a second plan in place to breach their defenses. "How are Astor and Ling?" he asked.
"Patrolling the city," Shannon said. "Chang is with the Sage at his parents' house – probably being stuffed with the finest Chinese cuisine in the state."
Dylan nodded. "Let's set all this to rights, then, and go meet up with them. If they're killing people now, the stakes just got higher."
Shannon nodded. "I've fixed everything so that when the compulsion breaks, no memory of leaving will exist. All should be fine here. Now I just need to find my f-f-father."
"Let's go," Dylan said, and took Shannon's arm, leading him from the building, taking the back exit. Once outside, he knelt and buried his hand in the ground, closing his eyes and bidding the spells he'd woken to return to sleep. Enough power remained he could use them a few times more. He'd laid his spells well, and knew it, but confirmation was always nice.
Standing, he waited while Shannon set and cast his own spells.
Several minutes later they pushed their way through the crowds of people, motioning to Shannon's father, who stood pale-faced and on the verge of tears as he watched them carry his wife's body away.
Dylan stood back as father and son comforted one another, keeping careful watch of the crowd, smiling faintly when two familiar energies struck his senses. Touching Shannon's shoulder lightly to let him know he was stepping away, he left the building and moved to a copse of trees behind it.
He smiled at the small white cat and cardinal waiting for him in a tree.
A moment later Ling and Astor stood before him.
"You don't look pleased," Dylan said.
"What's to be pleased about?" Astor said sourly. "That fucking Huntsman is here somewhere, though I've no idea how he got into the city without anyone noticing."
Dylan frowned in thought. "Probably while we were here. Shannon and I have been focusing on the death, which was engineered by the Tyrant. Focused on that, we did not notice a small breach somewhere else on the premises. It is always best to assume that nothing is as simple as it seems, which is why I sent the two of you to prowling. Is the Sage safe?"
"Safe as he can be," Ling said. "Big brother would never let anything happen to him, and neither will we."
"Then go find him," Dylan said. "Shannon and I will do our part. Whatever you do, avoid returning to Chang and the Sage. They will not find him so long as we do not show the way."
"Of course," Astor said."Let us know the moment you discover anything new. We're only looking for one man right now, but if one got into the city…"
Dylan nodded. "Go. I'll keep you informed."
He waited until they were gone, then strode back to the science building to fetch Shannon.
When he got there, however, Shannon was waiting for him. Dylan tugged him close, holding tight. "I'm sorry."
"S'okay," Shannon whispered.
"Are you going to be all right?" Dylan asked.
"I don't have a choice," Shannon replied. "There will be time later."
Dylan nodded, and bent to kiss him, wishing he could do more – but as Shannon said, there was no time. "Let's go," he said, and rapidly explained what Astor and Ling had told him.
Shannon immediately whipped out his laptop. "First the breach in the barriers, then we wake the aggressive defenses." He worked in a silence that was broken only by the furious clicking of his keys. Several minutes later he closed the laptop. "That's the breach fixed. Now for the next part."
"Yes," Dylan said. The aggressive defenses would have to be woken by hand, too dangerous for them to permit anything but their own touch to activate them.
Giving Shannon one last kiss, holding him tight for a moment, Dylan led the way off campus and into the neon lights of the city.
Hopefully I got it right. It's been ages since I've tackled this verse x.x Still rough, cause I'm going out and my betas aren't around but I wanted Moons to see it whenever she appeared. I'll get to beta'ing it eventually, and hopefully while I'm out I'll recall what I wanted for the last two parts -__-
Anyway.
Part IV: Dylan
"So far we have been introduced to the Alchemist, the Monk, and the Huntsman," Dylan said with a sigh. That meant the Tyrant was likely to be making his appearance soon, and Dylan wasn't looking forward to it.
Equals in powers and strength, parallels and opposites, the four destined foes of the sacred Guardians.
Phoenix against Alchemist.
Dragon against Monk.
Tiger against Huntsman.
Turtle against Tyrant.
Assuming they defeated those four, there still remained the last two great enemies – the Prophet himself, dark equal to the Sage, assisted by the soulless Seer. He felt tired just thinking about it sometimes. All his life, it seemed, he had worked and worked for this moment that was finally coming – and even when their greatest enemies failed, because he had worked too hard to allow anything but a victory for the Sage – and after it was over, still the work would not be done.
The Sage would change the world someday, if he was given a chance.
He was slow and steady, and could continue on forever, but still Dylan felt weighed down by it all occasionally. The others were significantly younger than he; when they were still children ignorant of their fates, he had been laying the foundations here. So long he had worked alone…
The depressing thought made him look up, and Dylan could not help smiling faintly at the man who had so recently dispelled the last lingering traces of his loneliness.
He had power, wealth, friends, companions, employees – all of it. Though the Sage was his liege lord, the ruler of them all, Dylan was well aware he himself owned at least half the city and the rest he let be because he did not yet have any real need to own it.
Still, there was little point in being a King when there was no one with whom to enjoy the spoils. Meeting his fellow Guardians had done much to soothe his feelings of isolation…but loneliness had persisted.
It wasn't until he realized that someone had been watching him all along that he realized he hadn't been alone for a very long time – just blind.
The soft clicking of keys was the only sound in his study; the weather had been foul enough today that he and Shannon had chosen to stay at home and work. They all might make fun of his house for being something out of a Poe story, but it was a fine house.
Even finer with its latest permanent addition. Shannon worked steadily, the clicking of his keys the only thing keeping Dylan working. Certainly Shannon himself was not helping him focus, and Dylan marveled again that he'd been oblivious for so long.
Seriously. He prided himself on his intelligence; it made him what he was – yet he'd completely missed Shannon. Perhaps it was the age gap, though that hardly mattered when it came to being Guardians.
At least he'd finally noticed. Since they'd decided to stay home, Shannon had gotten dressed only in the barest definition of the term – faded gray lounge pants and a black tank top that clung far too well to his skinny frame and only emphasized the true blue-black of his hair
It was the fierce concentration on his face, the skill with which he manipulated magic, the flashing of his too blue to be real eyes, that Dylan loved best. Nothing was finer than the Dragon lost to his magic.
Except, perhaps, Shannon in passion – and wasn't that a sight it had never occurred to Dylan to see, but which now he could not live without.
Thunder rumbled as though from a distance, unable to break entirely through the impressive work of Dylan's house. Not entirely soundproof, but nearly. Dylan turned back to his work, an endless tide of paperwork intermixed with Guardian work. He did not have Shannon's impressive laptop – he much preferred a more hands-on approach, and could constantly sense and feel his hundreds of spells scattered about the city.
But, his efforts were in laying the magic directly into what he built, rebuilt, etc. Shannon wove layer upon layer over the city. A million spiderwebs delicately stitched together and overlapping each other. His spells were more like the foundations upon which everything else relied, helping to form a hard shell around the city.
Dylan finished off an email to his secretary, then six more, and drafted three letters, mailing those off to his secretary and responding to her reply to the previous email. Checking his schedule, he rearranged six meetings and approved adding in three more.
Then he shut his computer off and stood up, stretching with a long groan, feeling his neck and back pop. "That's enough work for the day, I say."
Shannon's furious typing abruptly stopped, and those so-blue eyes blinked at him before a smile – still so hesitant, sweet and endearing – curved his lips. "Oh? I thought the great Mr. Waterhouse never stopped working."
Dylan rolled his eyes and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the deep leather sofa on which Shannon was stretched out. "The great Mr. Waterhouse has better things to do than check his email all day."
The laptop shut with a click, and Dylan took it from him to set on a nearby side table. Slender fingers buried themselves in his hair, petting him lightly before Shannon dragged him down for a kiss.
He wondered how he'd gone so long without this. Shannon tasted like a spring rain shower, sharp and bright and fresh. He was warm and pliant, clinging as though trying to wrap his long coils about Dylan.
It was a heady feeling. Dylan bundled him close, twisting and turning so that he lay on the couch with Shannon on top of him. He put his mouth to the skin of Shannon's throat, sucking up a mark, laughing softly at the way that made Shannon gasp and twist and moan.
Such a fine sound deserved a kiss, and Dylan gave it, taking Shannon's mouth and ravaging it thoroughly as he stroked and petted, lingering shamelessly on the curve of Shannon's ass. Truly he wondered what had taken him so long – from the moment Shannon had shivered in his arms in the train station, he had not been able to figure out how he'd gone so long without feeling that.
The sharp, piercing ring of a cell phone jarred him, and he bit down a tad too hard on Shannon's lip, making him grunt.
With a soft curse Shannon tore away, sitting up to straddle Dylan, twisting around in a way that could only be described as torturous, to snatch up his phone from the side table "Yes?" he asked, and though he tried for aplomb, it was rather obvious what he'd been interrupted in doing – and from the hot flush to his cheeks, Shannon knew it.
Dylan tucked one arm behind his head, reclining lazily, using his other hand to continue torturing Shannon as he talked – but then Shannon went abruptly white, and grabbed his hand, and nothing was funny anymore.
"I'm on my way," Shannon said, voice hoarse, and he began to shake something fierce. He didn't even hang up the phone, simply let it fall to the ground.
Dylan yanked him down, holding tight, offering whatever feeble comfort he could. "What's wrong?"
Tears soaked his shirt. "My mother's dead," Shannon said. "They just found her in her office." He sat up. "I have to go."
"I'll take you," Dylan said, reaching up to brush away the tears with his thumbs, cupping Shannon's face. He dragged him down and kissed Shannon softly, then let him go. "Go get dressed."
Nodding, obviously a million miles away, Shannon half walked, half stumbled from the room.
Dylan stood and moved to his desk, snatching up his own phone, hitting speed dial. "Chang, Shannon's mother is dead. We just got the call. I doubt this is coincidence. Keep Gage close. Find Astor and Ling, put them on the prowl."
Receiving an affirmative from Change, Dylan shut his phone and packed up Shannon's laptop, then went to get his shoes and jacket, grabbing Shannon's as well.
Shannon looked frozen from the inside out as he came down the stairs. With stiff moments he accepted his laptop bag, sliding on the jacket and shoes.
"Come on," Dylan said, taking his hand, leading him to the garage.
The trip to the city passed in silence.
He parked in the first spot he could find on the ever crowded campus, then helped Shannon out of the car.
Shannon didn't react, not even to the rain that started to fall – and Shannon adored thunderstorms.
Dylan took his hands, holding them tight, then let one go to tilt Shannon's head up. "Shannon, I know this is hard, but you've got to focus. It was probably the Monk that did this, and you can't face him like this. Keep it up and he's already won. Don't let him best you, Dragon."
Something flashed in Shannon's eyes, the power and magic unique to the Dragon. "I won't," he said softly. He squeezed Dylan's hand, then turned and strode through the campus, headed straight for the building where his mother spent so much time.
The crowds of people were ridiculous. Dylan's lip curled in disgust that people would so eagerly assemble to gawk at tragedy.
Shannon snarled as people got in his way – but those who shouted abruptly fell silent as they realized who he was, for no one would fail to recognize the son of the famous woman who lay dead within.
As suddenly as he'd started forward, Shannon turned around and fled.
Dylan chased after him, catching his arm as they ducked out of sight behind a smaller building. "Shannon, what—"
"We can't go in there with everyone staring at us. We'll n—" He stopped, swallowed, blinked back tears. "We'll never get anything done. We're both too well known. Everyone needs to go the hell away – especially as the cops are probably wrecking whatever magical evidence may linger."
"Then let me take care of it," Dylan said. "You save your energy for more important things."
Shannon nodded, though his fingers only slowly slid away from the fastening of his laptop bag.
Stroking his cheek lightly, aching to just take Shannon home and let him grieve in peace, Dylan then knelt on the ground and dug his fingers into the earth. He was significantly older than the others for one very important reason – he was precise, thorough, conscientious, but slow. He worked best when he had plenty of time to work. All his spells had been built one layer at a time, over the course of several years, but it made them strong and reliable in a way most other magic simply could not be. Even Shannon's spells required a high level of maintenance, constant checking and tweaking, and there was strength in the flexibility that offered…
But his spells had their strengths as well. Always ready and waiting for him, answering the call and doing his bidding without a moment of hesitation. Reaching out, to dormant spells deep beneath the city, he woke them and bid it do his will.
He'd never needed them before, but he'd always known he would.
The spell moved up through the earth, emotions bound in ancient runes, set where no eyes would ever see them – but released, all would feel it. He listened with half an ear as people abruptly left, unknowingly compelled to do other things. The cops resisted, their training and instinct fighting against Dylan's powerful compulsion.
Half an hour later, he finally stood up again, brushing dirt from his hands. "There," he said quietly. "We should have a good hour or so before anyone comes back this way."
Shannon smiled. It was a pale imitation of the bright ones he usually gave Dylan, but it was better than the awful blankness which had dominated his face since the phone call. "Thank you."
"Of course," Dylan said, and took his hand as they made their way back to the science building.
To most of the world, her death would always remain a mystery. Unknown causes was what would eventually be written on her death certificate. Had he not known better, Dylan would have thought she simply stopped between one breath and the next.
She still sat at her desk; they'd not had time to move the body. It almost looked as though she was still alive, bent over the paperwork in front of her, working diligently away. Shannon was her spitting image, except he'd always possessed a gentleness his mother had always lacked. Dylan had encountered her more than once in various social circles, it long being to his benefit to mesh well with the local academia – but while he'd never hated the woman, he'd never liked her either.
Still, not even a contemptible person deserved to be slain by a curse. From the magical residue, the way she quite literally died between one breath and the next – the curse had been both slow and sudden.
Slow to build, slow to permeate her body, but once it filled her the reaction had been instantaneous.
He wondered if the Monk had planted the curse that night they'd met – and how stupid of him and Shannon both not to think of that. Then again, what was the point in killing Shannon's mother? She had nothing to do with this.
Unless the sole purpose had been to shake the Dragon.
Dylan finally glanced away from the gruesome sight of the dead woman to look at his lover, hating that only an hour ago they'd been lost to pleasure, and now Shannon looked as though he were holding on to himself by the barest thread.
Still, the Dragon was too powerful a creature to be so easily felled. Despite the trembling of his hands, Shannon pulled out his laptop and flipped it open. Sitting down on the small sofa at the opposite end of the office, he began to type at a dizzying pace.
Though usually content to sit and watch and wait, their time was limited, and Dylan didn't feel like wasting it. Leaving Shannon to his laptop, he went to work in his own way. Casting spells would take too much time, but he didn't need spells to feel out magic, and he was very, very good at feeling out small bits of magic.
Holding out his hand, splaying his fingers, Dylan focused on searching out magical residue, closing his eyes, rejecting all his senses, pouring his focus into simply feeling.
A minute later his eyes snapped open, a soft curse filling the room as he snatched up an envelope and yanked out the sheets of paper inside. Relief and dismay poured through him as he realized what had actually happened.
Relief that it wasn't actually the Monk responsible – that would be a great deal of weight off Shannon's shoulders.
Dismay because the Tyrant had made his debut, and he'd done by attacking Dylan's weakness. Given the scheme must have taken months to plan, prepare, and execute, and he'd only been with Shannon less than two weeks…
That meant the Seer was involved, which meant the plan could be even more intricate than it seemed already.
Dylan took the letter to Shannon, who nodded and began to analyze it.
"He bought property from your mother," Dylan said "That means he has a legitimate reason to be in this city, and our wards are useless. I thought I'd blocked all those avenues, but it would seem I missed one."
The ghost of a smile flicked across Shannon's face. "But you probably accounted for the fact that you might miss something."
"Yes," Dylan said. "Is there a trap laid somewhere?"
"Not according to my analyses," Shannon said. "He knew she'd eventually sign it over; he's been laying the curse piece by piece ever since they started communicating. The Monk must have come to meet me and double check the curse was setting right. They did it so we wouldn't sense it, bastards." A tear slipped down his cheek, and he angrily brushed it away. "They won't use the same trick twice, though, now that I'm aware of the curse I can calibrate my spells to look for things like it."
Dylan stroked one cheek, part of him wondering yet again why it had taken him so long to really see Shannon…the other part wishing he was still oblivious, because it was his caring for Shannon which had resulted in his mother's death.
"It's okay," Shannon whispered.
"It's not," Dylan said quietly.
Shannon turned his head and kissed his palm. "We knew shit like this would happen. Let's just stop the bastard."
"Oh, I will," Dylan said. "The Tyrant's problem is his arrogance and love of power. He went to these extremes to gain access to the city simply because he could. To intimidate. Such complicated magic over a prolonged period of time probably wore him out." Dylan smirked. "I know this part of the city, and calling in a handful of favors will see to it that by the end of the week, I not only own it, but will have it razed and construction of something new begun."
Shannon laughed softly. "Not a scrap of magic involved, huh?"
"Precisely," Dylan replied. "The magic I'll save for more important things." Like killing the Tyrant slowly and painfully. The Seer had to have known the Tyrant's plan might not work; the question was had he told the Tyrant that?
Probably not.
Still, it meant there was probably a second plan in place to breach their defenses. "How are Astor and Ling?" he asked.
"Patrolling the city," Shannon said. "Chang is with the Sage at his parents' house – probably being stuffed with the finest Chinese cuisine in the state."
Dylan nodded. "Let's set all this to rights, then, and go meet up with them. If they're killing people now, the stakes just got higher."
Shannon nodded. "I've fixed everything so that when the compulsion breaks, no memory of leaving will exist. All should be fine here. Now I just need to find my f-f-father."
"Let's go," Dylan said, and took Shannon's arm, leading him from the building, taking the back exit. Once outside, he knelt and buried his hand in the ground, closing his eyes and bidding the spells he'd woken to return to sleep. Enough power remained he could use them a few times more. He'd laid his spells well, and knew it, but confirmation was always nice.
Standing, he waited while Shannon set and cast his own spells.
Several minutes later they pushed their way through the crowds of people, motioning to Shannon's father, who stood pale-faced and on the verge of tears as he watched them carry his wife's body away.
Dylan stood back as father and son comforted one another, keeping careful watch of the crowd, smiling faintly when two familiar energies struck his senses. Touching Shannon's shoulder lightly to let him know he was stepping away, he left the building and moved to a copse of trees behind it.
He smiled at the small white cat and cardinal waiting for him in a tree.
A moment later Ling and Astor stood before him.
"You don't look pleased," Dylan said.
"What's to be pleased about?" Astor said sourly. "That fucking Huntsman is here somewhere, though I've no idea how he got into the city without anyone noticing."
Dylan frowned in thought. "Probably while we were here. Shannon and I have been focusing on the death, which was engineered by the Tyrant. Focused on that, we did not notice a small breach somewhere else on the premises. It is always best to assume that nothing is as simple as it seems, which is why I sent the two of you to prowling. Is the Sage safe?"
"Safe as he can be," Ling said. "Big brother would never let anything happen to him, and neither will we."
"Then go find him," Dylan said. "Shannon and I will do our part. Whatever you do, avoid returning to Chang and the Sage. They will not find him so long as we do not show the way."
"Of course," Astor said."Let us know the moment you discover anything new. We're only looking for one man right now, but if one got into the city…"
Dylan nodded. "Go. I'll keep you informed."
He waited until they were gone, then strode back to the science building to fetch Shannon.
When he got there, however, Shannon was waiting for him. Dylan tugged him close, holding tight. "I'm sorry."
"S'okay," Shannon whispered.
"Are you going to be all right?" Dylan asked.
"I don't have a choice," Shannon replied. "There will be time later."
Dylan nodded, and bent to kiss him, wishing he could do more – but as Shannon said, there was no time. "Let's go," he said, and rapidly explained what Astor and Ling had told him.
Shannon immediately whipped out his laptop. "First the breach in the barriers, then we wake the aggressive defenses." He worked in a silence that was broken only by the furious clicking of his keys. Several minutes later he closed the laptop. "That's the breach fixed. Now for the next part."
"Yes," Dylan said. The aggressive defenses would have to be woken by hand, too dangerous for them to permit anything but their own touch to activate them.
Giving Shannon one last kiss, holding him tight for a moment, Dylan led the way off campus and into the neon lights of the city.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 03:37 pm (UTC)Have a great Wednesday!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 03:46 pm (UTC)*skips in a circle singing 'Oh, what a beautiful MORN-ing, oh what a beautiful DAY'*
Okay, it took me a while, but now I have something to say that involves actual sentences. Or numbered points.
1. YAY for another Sage story! This was one of the first things I read, and of your miniseries section on your website, this was my second favorite (no matter how shiny, it can't compete with Harem).
2. Double yay for Dylan/Shannon! Of the three main couples, Dylan and Shannon are my favorite for being the least spazzy.
3. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm glad you decided to write this one, because it's so shiny and pretty and now I want to hug Shannon to make him feel better. *runon sentence of mini-doom*
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 04:03 pm (UTC)And I'm very glad to see you've added to it! It's one of those stories that needs to be finished before you understand it completely, so hurry up and complete.
Dylan/Shannon are pure Smex!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 04:59 pm (UTC)You're on my list of permanent powerball partners. I swear if I ever win, you're getting a share so that you can take longer vacations to just WRITE.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 05:51 pm (UTC)Mean trick that!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 06:07 pm (UTC)::goes to read again::
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 08:33 pm (UTC)Receiving an affirmative from Change
I think you meant Chang there.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 08:43 pm (UTC)Thanks for this, M. I've been felled by a nasty sickness, so you chose the perfect time to post new writings and make me feel better.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 11:21 pm (UTC)@.@!! Poor Shannon!!!
I love the different ways they approach magic and... life. Each of them so unique, but working so well together.
*breathless* Can't wait for the next part. ^_______^
no subject
Date: 2008-04-17 12:32 am (UTC)Argh! Stupid Seer and Prophet! DIE in written Hell! *smashes them with rubber hammer*
*sets up maderr shrine for fangirl worship* XD
no subject
Date: 2008-04-17 01:36 am (UTC)i mean, i'm sure they win, but...i need confirmation. i'm needy like that.
thankee, though, for continuing this. i stalk every one of your unfinished stories - i PRAYED for the moon series, and i still want to know where the 'mortal enemies' drabble fits in. and i know i'm not alone. so feel free to finish anything else hanging out there (i know you gots a list, but *coughblackmagickcough*) and you'll be showered with much praising.
thankee! (again)
no subject
Date: 2008-04-17 03:55 am (UTC)Although, I have to say, I absolutely LOVE the magic in this verse. *___* It's so shiny and pretty and legend-y! :D
And I also love LOVE the description of Dylan's personality and how it's reflected in the magic and the types of spells that he casts and how that differs from the way Shannon is and the way he casts his spells. <333
You're totally the awesome. *tackle hearts*
no subject
Date: 2008-04-17 05:27 am (UTC)Since the lads from the Shiny Side (Legendary Beasts group) are getting together, does this mean their enemies from the Not-so-Shiny Side are hitting it off as well?
no subject
Date: 2008-04-18 06:24 pm (UTC)Oh, and you mentioned it's not beta'd, but I noticed this...
"Is the Sage safe?"
"Safe as he can be," Ling said. "Big brother would never let anything happen to him, and neither will we."
"Then go find him," Dylan said. "Shannon and I will do our part. Whatever you do, avoid returning to Chang and the Sage. They will not find him so long as we do not show the way."
Am I right and is Dylan contradicting himself in that last paragraph? It seems like he's saying 'find the Sage but don't go near the Sage'. Or is he referring to the Huntsman when he says 'go find him'?