Orphan at the Edge of the World 127 Crawling Chaos 25

As the blossoms scattered, Flora came into view with a wrathful look that was just as unnatural appearing on her face as the one Hern had worn earlier.

The garden maiden started off speaking harshly but her voice softened towards the end. "You would betray your nature!? The consequences of such a thing are a terrible unknown! It could harm you in ways that could follow you to the end of your days, beloved. Do not do this. Do not trick my father and do not harm yourself in such a way."

Herne hung his head and covered his face from view with a large, calloused hand. Flora gently removed the pin from the nerveless fingers of the other hand before squeezing it once and turning to Orison.

The garden maiden smiled affectionately at the distressed young mage and said, "You have done nothing wrong, father. You have simply called a debt that you did not know you were due. Even if you were to recall it now, honor demands it be answered. I ask that you forgive Herne with as much sincerity as you can for all of our sake. Would you do me this favor?"

Orison said, "I, uh, sure... Whatever this is about, Herne, I don't sense any malicious intent. There's nothing to forgive because 'no harm, no foul', right? Uh, don't worry about it."

With his back turned to them, Herne nodded over his shoulder silently and spurred his horse into a gallop. The air of late twilight turned menacing and was filled with the promise of fear, pain and death before it slowly faded as Herne drew further away.

Flora reached out and laid her hand on Orison's chest briefly as the black book of ritual magic was drawn out from him. "Whether you were aware or not, you were borrowing the power and authority of another to cast your rituals. Any more and you would be in their debt. As grateful as they were to you, that would not stop them from using you mercilessly. It is no longer safe for you to carry this, father."

Orison thought about it. He had called on laws and even set a greater ritual for himself. It really did seem like he was getting far too much bang for his buck. He reasoned that if something was too good to be true, there were reasons for it. Knowing that the 'crone gift' was empowering his workings actually cleared up some of his confusion from what he learned about ritual work.

He thought back to the wards of Muriel. Her years of practice and experience were producing effects roughly a third of what his casual efforts provided. It made him wonder just how powerful the old woman who gave him the book was and what she might have asked of him had he kept using the book unknowingly. The possibilities were staggering and terrifying.

Orison said playfully, "Well, you were partially made from the first gift and now the other two are in your hands. Will I be seeing them again?"

Flora gave him a playfully mischievous look in return with devastating impact. The young mage felt his heart squeeze from the paternal affection her glamour produced in him. "For all that I've done for you and for all that you have not done for me, am I not worthy of them?"

Orison bit his lip hard to keep from instantly agreeing and forced out with narrowed eyes, "The pin has my student in it, daughter. I have to save him before I can give it to you. You do deserve something for my neglect, my fault or not. But I can't-"

Flora giggled and said, "I tease, father. In truth, I need the pin and the book but my words to you were not false. If you will grant them to me, I will do all I can to return your student to you. Will you trust me with this task?"

The young mage thought back and could only find reason to put his faith in her. "I do, Flora. I trust you as much as I've trusted anyone."

The garden maiden hugged Orison and kissed his cheek. "You don't disappoint me, father, so I will not disappoint you."

Stepping back, she looked into the young mage's eyes and said, "It is not that you cannot reach your barrow. It is a part of you, father... The reasons are due to its changing. Like you, it is 'becoming'. When it is done, you will understand. That's not just for your barrow, it's for you as well."

Somewhat embarrassed, Orison said, "I actually have another small favor to ask but..."

Flora smiled brightly and said, "Say no more. In your car, the ones wrapped in wicker are for you. The ones wrapped in ivy are for my five siblings. Don't be in a hurry to have a larger family, father, or you're going to overtax yourself."

Orison asked, "Why do you consider the five sprites your siblings but not the others?"

He became a little irritated when Flora shot him a pitying look. "The truest parent of the elementals are the force they are a part of. I will not deign to respond about the horse... The reason why I consider the five FAIRIES as my siblings is simple. You did not make them, they were conceived. As father, you invested yourself. The 'mother' land keeps them and the nurturing between you and the barrow allows them to grow. Most importantly, you left them to be defined by nature and self instead of being strictly defined by you as a summon is.

"I looked in on you while you were hospitalized and you seem to be completely unaware, so allow your daughter to help you understand. Since you were pulled from the crack, an absurd amount of potential in resources and essence has been poured into you and yet your growth is abysmally small. Why do you think that is?"

Flora laughed and finished, "Your children have been eating you out of house and home! This is good from the prospective of a responsible parent. You have provided for them well despite almost having killed them... twice. They love you and they hope that you will respond to those feelings.

"Understand one thing more. They are still merely conceived and not truly born yet as I am. Disregard mortal notions to further your understanding. You, to them are father and the barrow is their mother. Since it doesn't possess its own spirit, that makes you indirectly their mother as well but leave behind the concepts of man and woman when dealing with our kind, father.

"We are born of the formless forces of life and take the form that best suits us. It is not until then that such things have any meaning. As they define themselves, be tolerant and try to not judge their actions and desires through the lens of mortal morality as best you can. Otherwise, they may test your tolerance beyond bearing."

As if to illustrate, Flora surprised the young mage by kissing him boldly and in a complete defiance of the relationship definitions between them.

Having only just adjusted to the idea of seeing Flora as his daughter, her actions threw him for a loop. It also felt wrong because it defied his expectations too much.

This time she smiled sadly as she said, "Now you understand some of what I mean. Those newly formed from the formless forces do not owe any particular allegiance to ANY notion, save what they give themselves or are forced to accept by others. If I believed you could accept me as daughter AND as lover, I would never have left your side but for you, those two things are clearly divided.

"From the perspective of mortal understanding that is only right and just. Even I can see where the blurring of such lines can lead to terrible and harmful things but my feelings are the wild heart of the maiden and I may feel as I wish. Because I love you, I do not force upon you what you cannot accept. I also crave your affection as a father more. Over the past nine years, Herne has captured my heart as well and I am more certain of my feelings as a lover for him now, regardless."

True to her maiden nature, having said all that she had desired, she disappeared without a second wasted. The young mage looked out into the deepening dark where she had gone. He stayed that way until the scent of fruit blossoms faded from the air.

As he walked to the car, he shook his head and thought out loud. "Don't be so quick to judge, daughter. Many children blur the line between a child's affection for their parents and early understandings of romantic love. It's a parent's duty to draw the line, out of love AND for the future happiness of their child. A father who would take advantage of his daughter's pure feelings to satisfy such a dark desire is no father at all. He's a monster."

With plans to overnight in Port Haven, Neil and Orison were perfectly fine letting the time pass in silence. They both had a lot on their minds. The most prevalent in Orison's was just how scary being the father of a wild girl was and a somewhat ungenerous hope that all of his remaining 'children' were boys.

Once they were settled into a hotel, the nicest one, Orison went to his room of the two room suite and looked through all his new goodies. What he saw through their 'fairy magic' seals, spooked him and made him paranoid. The young mage hadn't been overly certain what Herne had been up to the past nine years but the hunter had most definitely taken down some outsiders. The chrism fed plants with a plethora of effects gave evidence to that fact.

With as much care as he could, Orison swiftly placed them all in his space aside from the small amount from his own he planned on using immediately. To his dismay, the entirety of the ones for his five sprites sped into the dark distance towards the center of his space and he wasn't strong enough to follow. If it wasn't for the unified cry of jubilation that came from his summons, just strong enough for it to reach him, he would have been concerned about the fate of all the goodies.

The subsequent disgruntled cry made Orison chuckle. Apparently, there was quite a bit of crystal separating them from their presents. He wasn't sure if they could 'hear' him or not but he suggested that they enlist the help of the elementals with a promise to share a little loot.

After a check to make sure he could reach what he needed, the young mage made a triple time, effort and will invested circle. The end result barely halved inert essence pressure but that was well enough to do some serious alchemy assuming he was careful. The difference in ritual casting with the book and without it was so severe it almost made the study of ritual magic seem like a waste of time. He had tasted what it was capable of if one did log the time and effort, however, and that kept him motivated to return to serious study in the near future.

Once he was done, Orison realized he was quite tired. Despite how fine he seemed, the young mage was still in a recovery period that would take a long time. He had some hope in the form of some new medicine but with how much inert essence he'd taken in, he had no idea how effective any of it would be. Knowing that there was only one way to find out, he took the first set and slipped into trance.

Two hours before dawn the young mage awoke to a muffled ruckus coming from the shared lounging space of the suite. Peeking out, he saw that Neil was being pinned to the floor by a black clothed figure that seemed vaguely familiar. Before he had a chance to call out, the figure sprayed some kind of aerosol under the detective's nose, knocking him out cold.

Reaching for his dagger and taking a defensive stance, Orison said, "One wrong move and you're a dead person."

The figure whipped their head around and tensed. One second went by and then two more as the person slowly reached towards their face cover and removed it. The woman was far more mature than she had once been but he recognized her in a heartbeat.

Orison said, "Please tell me that Neil's alright."

With one open hand on display, Ying Yue bent down to check his pulse and said, "He's perfectly fine. I was a little worried that the concentration would make his heart erratic since Detective Jones hasn't lived the healthiest lifestyle but everything's as it should be."

Still not letting his guard down, Orison said, "Any particular reason why you're drugging mundanes? You could have just knocked on the door."

Sighing in exasperation, she said, "I'm not supposed to be here. I just want to drop in and say hi if it was really you but this man had some kind of waking charm on him. There wasn't any real time to explain myself when he has a gun and was about to use it."

Orison intoned, "I invoke the sacred act of guest rights...eat a bite out of the fruit basket or something."

She chuckled and took a bite out of an apple before spitting it out in disgust. "It's a waxed fruit. Ugh, it wasn't well dusted either."

Orison sheathed his dagger and said, "Good enough."

Ultimately, she didn't have anything important to say. She really had just dropped by to say hi and that East Village had changed quite a bit since he'd last been. The Tong was still pretty intolerant but to keep from being completely dusted by the other two major groups in town, they had relaxed entry to those with even a touch of homeland descent. It was possible to become a member if you were married to one in good standing as well but that seemed to only apply to women who had married in. It seemed that there were quite a few more men than women.

She added, "I know your last run in was... unpleasant but since you have the blood of dragons, the tong would consider you of our descent. Unless you have already chosen another allegiance, that is."

Orison said, "At this point, if I was to choose anyone it would be The Collective."

Yue smiled, "All the tongs across this country are affiliates of the collective. We ARE a heritage society after all. One of the larger ones but still far from able to stand against the likes of groups like the Masons (Illuminati these days from what I hear) or the Knights Templar nationally or globally. In the few instances where someone would ask what society you are a part of and you answered the collective. That would be like someone asking what country you're from and answering the United Nations."

Orison rubbed his head to relieve a phantom tension headache. "So even after choosing the collective, I'd still have to find a round hole to fit my square peg into?"

Placing a hand on her chest, Yue faked looking scandalized. "Mr. Cantrip, I am a married woman!"

Letting out a dull, monotone laugh, he replied, "Well, for now I'm living in New Yorkshire. It doesn't sound that useful to the tong or myself."

Putting a hand to the side of her mouth conspiratorially, she whispered, "Our gate makes us more important but our public presence on the east coast is in New Yorkshire." Taking a more conversational stance and tone, she added, "Old Asia Town is currently split down the middle, though. The Abe clan have completely taken Sunset Park as their own private playground. They've even bribed the governor to rename it Sunrise Park! Flushing is completely loyal to us."

Orison waved his hands in surrender and said, "You've lost me. New Yorkshire is huge. I only really know a bit about The Village and downtown Manhattansville. Yue shrugged her shoulders and said, "You only need to really know about Flushing in Queensbury. You like Third Uncle, right? He runs Flushing now. Just thought you should know, he tried really hard to get the tong to help search for you but West Gate kept him shut down until Mr. Long died last year. No offense, but by then it seemed kind of pointless."

The young mage asked, "This Abe Clan, are they affiliates of the collective as well? If so, how does the collective deal with an issue between two heritage groups in its fold?"

Yue looked thoughtful. "In theory, the American group would be considered a part of the collective but they're actually very close with a couple of the Mason's current leadership. Mr. Carter is among that number. I know this doesn't really answer your second question but the collective doesn't actually police itself that much unless some dispute draws the attention of one of the larger societies...

"At the heart of the collective is a secret among secrets but there's whispers about the concepts of controlled chaos. If the Masons can be considered corporate politicians of the secret societies, the Knights Templar could be considered its religious politicians. Both are two sides of the same conservative coin in most views. The collective is an 'anti' establishment filled with contradictions that somehow work. "Most of the time they present themselves as peaceful liberals but if they are poked one too many times, a swift and fearful act of terrorism committed by ghosts is usually the answer. I mean, they're not literally ghosts but untraceable. Once in a great while, those acts are tagged with a coiling dragon, a butterfly or both."

Yue spent some time chatting with Orison and even brought up the 'your mother' routine for old times sake but once Neil was about to wake up, she was ready to leave.

Before she took a dive out the window, she said, "Your friends with a guy named Jimmy right? I remember seeing him at our first vigil held for you... Smiley's people worked him over pretty badly a few days ago. He's not in critical danger but he is in traction. With no one at home to take care of him, he hasn't had much option but to stay at the hospital. I imagine that bill is starting to look pretty scary to him."

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