Second Coming (The Kier and Creampuff)

Sighing at recapping the recapped story, "The attack in question is the one that led to him kidnapping Kierenne."

"He then cast some spell, attacking us again, taking us to a distant shadow."

"No offense," says Random, "but since you've described multiple things as attacks in one way or another, giving a barely coherent narrative, small surprise people have to ask for clarification. Although I should point out that nothing Branwen said indicated any plans for an attack on anyone by this Prospero person. How you leapt to that conclusion escapes me. More, by your own account it certainly sounds like you attacked Prospero, whereupon he thwarted you with non-deadly force. Facts speak quite a bit louder than your opinions of them."

"Besides," Fiona continues, "Prospero simply paid her to travel around and open a box every day. A rather impressive magical box, incidentally. Whoever he is, this Prospero seems a highly adept sorcerer. You're both still alive most likely because he let you live."

The girl is almost, but not quite, too flabbergasted at her elders' inability to see the obvious to scoff at Fiona's estimation of Prospero's power.

"Pfft!" is her only comment on the latter subject, before she replies to the former. "You'd said that she had multiple employers. The people from the Nexus, for whom she was scouting and of whom she warned me of an impending attack... and the box and bird were from Prospero? So then why did she break free of the monacle's enchantment only when she saw Prospero? Ah-HA!"

"I'll tell you why. His arrival prompted her emotional reaction, that triggered the moment of her gaining control, and she warned me. Ergo, Prospero was the source of her fear for me. To paraphrase Grandfather: Q. E. flonquing D. Which is why we decided to attack him first, before his ambush was in place. I can only assume that he already had the transportation spell set up, but he was waiting for his men to be in place at the destination. He would need quite a few of them, with serious weaponry, to be able to capture one of us alive. That kind of thing can take a while to set up. But, we spoiled all that by taking the fight to him. If we'd have left it on his timeline, THEN we'd be dead."

"And, no offense in return, but we've described multiple threats to your throne, and an undefended path through Shadow right to your doorstep. We provided you with a conspirator, though probably one against her will. And you chose to release her after only getting her drunk. I begin to understand more why Father chose to crown himself after his predecessor [sarcasm]wisely[/sarcasm] abandoned the throne without notice. You confuse your inability to age with the wisdom and the mandate to rule. That's the worst form of despotism, in my opinion.

"Ha!" is Random's first response, followed by a chuckle.

"We didn't let her go, you twit," says Fiona. "And she warned you at the first opportunity she had when the Oracle Group weren't watching, namely when she faked a jostle in the crowd so she could drop the monocle. She wasn't under their control, either." Fiona rolls her eyes. "Children!"

"Now, now, sister mine," chides Random, "we were all her age once. Okay, that was centuries and centuries ago, but they're trying. It is how we learn. True, they're leaping to all kinds of conclusions and not listening to half of what they're told, but you cannot deny their talents. Nor the elbow grease they've been willing to put into duty towards the realm."

"Oh please. I was never this ridiculous. Even you weren't!"

"We had each other to wear down the rough edges. Plus, you know, Dad."

She sighs. "That is certainly true."

By now the party had left the castle proper and was within sight of the cenotaphs were the Twins had been before, where Benedict had interrupted Kierrenne's suggestion they dig up Eric's corpse. A figure neither twin recognizes is seated on the ground next to the largest, most grand of the monuments. A robed man with a very long gray beard, wearing a skull cap.

[Why do I imagine the skull cap having an actual skull motif?]

Kierenne is ready for a fight, but the King's deft calming of his sister has stolen that from her. She's not sure how to continue on, without someone to yell at. So, she teleports forward to stand next to the man at the tombs. "You there, what are you doing here? This is a private place for family only! You're not even worthy to walk on this ground, much less kneel on it. Leave, immediately."

Sensing the now altercation is has been defused by waves of rose tinted nostalgia from the elders, Kieran hurries down to join his sister.

Love, if I ever become that blind with age, kill me. Kill me in bed, just like we used to joke about.

Standing beside Kierenne, arms crossed, tensed, Kieran waits for the bum to reply.

If the hobo wishes to remain here, it can be arranged. Permanently.

They probably feel safe and secure in Their Amber, thinking no one would DARE attack them here. A lesson you'd think they've have learned after Father's righteous routing of Corwin. And it's inconceivable that someone, or a group, would, you know, have access to a place to hide from their true rulers. A place where Amber's greatest power is warped and mangled. A place where a flonqing rebellion is brewing. But the king here unintentionally or willfully ignores information proving it.

Remebering the mickey mouse, Very apt image love. This place does seem to be going to Hell since the Assassination of Father.

The old man stares at Kierrenne, with eyes as piercing as stars. "Kierrenne isn't it? The other one must be Kieran. The children poor Eric got tricked into conceiving by that pale scoundrel all those years ago." He sighs. "Not my favorite grandchild, but at least he tried. Did pretty well, all things considered."

He then stands, and crook in his back becomes obvious. Stroking his beard, the old man with the bright eyes mutters "I thought the second generation bad enough. Well, some of the third are nice."

Kierenne stops in her tracks. "How did I.... " She takes out the trump deck and sifts through until she finds Dworkin's card. "Great grandfather, I am your... descendant Kierenne, yes. Of course, what I said just now in no way applies to you. I didn't recognize you, is all. You have as much right to be here as we do, to be sure."

"Actually, with both your son and our father dead in defense of the kingdom, you are now our most direct blood relation. I am honored to meet you."

That's Great-Grandfather?

Quickly regaining his wits, he continues to his twin and he liked Father. He said Father, rightful ruler of Amber, assassinated by the Usurper on the field of Battle defending Amber, did Good, even with the Bastard and his treasonous cabal of siblings trying to destroy everything that was in his keeping!

Kieran bows his head in honor of meeting Dworkin, "I am honored to meet you also. Given recent events, we are a bit...tense about people seeming to appear in Amber. Your pardon please."

Formalities done, onto important business.

Bringing himself to his full height, straight backed, standing with a noble air, Kieran says, "Revered Elder, we Kier were told we would be able to question you about important things and those involved in them." speaking the title with awe.

With grave seriousness, "Great Grandfather," The emphasis on the title again, "How exactly did you flonq the Unicorn? " Kieran unsubtley looks at the hunched back, down at the lower half. His eyes dwelling what seems like forever on Dworkin's crotch. His eyes alight with the search for knowledge.

Dworkin stares at the twins. "As it happens, no one's ever asked that. Well, none of the current lot anyway. I turned into a unicorn myself, naturally." Then he sighs. "You two think so loud its hard not to hear you. Wonder why? Probably because you're using a Broken Pattern to chat amongst yourselves. Even those outer reflections are tied indirectly to the First. Who's this Bastard you speak of? You did know Eric was a bastard, right? Oberon married his mother, but never legitimated Eric. I told him that'd cause trouble..." He shrugs. "Assassinated? He was killed in battle, child. Ah well, that lowlife who tricked Eric into begetting you had to have been a worse father than my son. Something of an achievement, that, sorry to say. Will you stop doing that!" He stares at Kieran then Kierrenne, then repeats the process. "What in the name of all creation did you two do? You've got tiny bits of Pattern shards hovering near you. Haven't seen that since...were one or both of you STUPID enough to try and get two Broken Patterns to interract? DIRECTLY? Don't you ever, ever try that again! Or if you do, try harder and far away from here."

He looks at the other two. "Random, Fiona. Nice to see you! What's this I hear about someone with purple and golden eyes? Is it true?" He sighs again and shakes his head. "Had a feeling this might happen."

"Nice to see you too, Grandfather," says Random.

Fiona smiles, watching and listening to everything with interest.

Kierenne's voice takes on a sort of the same tone as her extended quote from before, only this time instead of dead flat, it's more sing-songy. "Does that mean Oberon was born as a Unicorn and then wore a human skin later? We have to think so loud to be heard across the great chasm between us. We found that we did not enjoy the distortion keeping us yet still further apart. We would gladly attempt a quieter method, if we knew of one. Would you care to share one? The Bastard is your nominal great-grandchild Fergus, lineage otherwise unknown. We did NOT know father was a bastard, though most of what we know of Amber is vague at best, so I'm not surprised. Regicide, assassination, noble battle, whatever. Father was not tricked, Elder. He bed Mother and we were born. It's a fairly common outcome, and one Father must as considered possible. By 'lowlife' do you refer to his subterranean habitat? We have not met your son, though judging by the quality of his children, he was a deeply flawed man. Stop doing what? There was an explosion, Elder. I did have the Spiral raised at the time. Is that what caused it? However, it would seem that the Sprial won out over whatever other sygil we encountered, and the Kier were unharmed in the process. I would therefore question the stupidity of the act. Plus, it brought us much closer to here, so that we could inform your grandchildren of a threat. The one with the purple and gold eyes is the above mentioned Fergus, lineage unknown but presumed to be of your line, and destined to destroy the world. Elder, what do you know of the distortion, where trumps barely work, where walking Shadow is difficult, and where all of the worlds are dying. I discovered an axis of sorts there, and your friend and our enemy Prospero seems to be basing an attack against Amber from there."

Picking up his twin's line "But since we are descended from you and you were unmarried during your dalliance with beastiality technically we are all counted as bastard children and the title could be applied to all your offspring us included. But that's not the issue. That shadows exist where Amber's Pattern powers are castrated and mangled which is a place formenting rebellion designed to deprive the rightful rulers of the world, your grandchildren, of their divine right to rule. I use divine right because the Unicorn is revered as a Goddess, and as such the offspring would be considered a divinity. But, there are those who seek to hide from the right and proper ruler. Our pattern won. We are still here. If we had lost, we would not be here. The vermin who died were caught in the explosion. Being that we survived, I consider that acceptable losses, that unreal things died while the divine survived. My love is right in that it did allow us to come here after our explodying. Now that we know, it is a viable tactic. Granted one used for emergencies. It could take out our foes too while leaving us alive and able to be trumped back to the base of operations while we, the Amberites fighting this war, rend through their distorted realities leaving scorched earth and dead rebels behind us."

Turning to his twin "That is quite the weapon we have discovered. I wonder if it destroyed that shadow? If so, we could sneak into their deeper shadows and use said tactic. Saving alot of time and effort."

"Oh, if one of us were to find and walk a pattern other than the Spiral, we could both raise our patterns, and set off a similar explosion wherever we wished."

"Elder, do you happen to know where such other patterns are?"

Kierenne grins to herself.

"Boom!"

Kieran's voice is almost giggling with glee, "Yes, yes. This will work wonderfully. Painful as Hells, but we recover, return, and go out again."

Bowing to Dworkin, Kieran turns to Random, "Uncle, we will be ready to leave as soon as you give us a target. We'd like someone whom we have a Trump of to be available for retrieval after the operation."

I can't wait to see the look on that bastard Prospero's face when his tidy little set of shadows and his rebels, his whole flonqing reality disappears in a flash of light and a puff of logic.

With that, Kieran hugs Kierenne close, then crests the ridge of glee easily, and begins to giggle.

Dworkin listens to all this with increasingly bright eyes, and the hint of a smile on his lips. Afterwards, he pulls out a small pouch and unfolds it. The oatmeal/nut/fruit disks so revealed smell delicious. He himself grabs one and starts chewing. He holds it out, indicating all four of his relatives. "Cookie?"

Fiona and Random each take one. "Oh, I remember those," says the King.

"Thanks so much, Grandfather," says Fiona.

Kierenne is torn between trying to be polite and trying not to break Dworkin's train of thought in answering her questions. As her aunt and uncle take their cookies and nibble, with no further tales told, she reaches for one as well, hoping that Dworkin is waiting on the formalities before he begins.

She morphs her mask to allow her to eat, then takes a tiny nibble from the wafer. But her eyes never leave the Elder.

The cookie is delicious.

Dworkin sits down on the ground, indicating everyone should make a circle. "I've a story to tell. But let us relax. You know, everyone goes on about all the magic I've done, but hardly anyone ever talks about my baking." He looks a little sad.

Nomming on a cookie, Kieran sits, leaning against his twin, eyes wide with plans and wonderment.

"As it happens," Dworkin begins, "way back in the mists of what we might as well call time, I was one of several star students in a Sorcerous academy that was part of the Courts of Chaos. Not nobility of course, but Chaos was our home and we had the powers inherent in that fact. The major one being shape-shifting at least as far as this part of history is concerned. We weren't eligible for some of the higher mysteries, at least not in political terms. But the Powers don't care all that much about temporal loyalties and factionalism. Certain Adepts have always excelled and ever will. Myself among them. As it happened, I had a friend whose family enjoyed a higher social position. Prospero, whom you may have heard of? Not one for the deeper stuff, to be honest. But in terms of skill? Unmatched! We used to joke that magic was his personal pet. He could even wander through the various worlds, Shadows, using only his spells! Not unheard of. But no one ever surpassed him. He also had a fraternal twin named Elrond. We'll get to him later. He married my daughter."