Part one...

Peakview, Haree Dynasty Park two years prior to current timeline. Approximately two years B.X. (Before Xy)

   Torate stands lightly balanced on the balls of his feet beneath a majestic Cherry Blossom tree. One practice longsword held high above his head threatening swift violence. Its twin is held low parallel to his waist. He could have went with spell that turns actual deadly sword blades into practice safe versions but this day he wanted his two pupils to feel every bit of the pain he delivers with the tightly bound bamboo strips. He shifts slightly on his back foot anticipating the painfully obvious incoming attack. The sword held high flips down and across his back in a blur with only the slightest twitch of his wrist. The motion done without even looking blocks the slash Sethalus had aimed at his right hamstring. In front of him Seth, his other teenage opponent steps into a lunge timed perfectly with the attack of his elven comrade. Torate grudgingly acknowledges that they do fight well together but that is about the extent of his complimentary thinking regarding his two protégés this morning. Typically both excellent students they have been rather distracted the last few weeks and today they showed up considerably late. Torate knows the Spring Fair is coming up in a few days and that is always a clusterfuck even if they have all went off without any significant hitch the last few years. The boys also have some big two-week long hunting trip planned for a bunch of their friends immediately after.

   Torate is generally a patient elf having been through “the shit” as it were and he generally does not get too worked up about trivial matters. Lately he has been on edge a bit and feeling slightly off. He has not missed killing people but he has missed having a real fight with real consequences.  Having his time disrespected by the two people he has dedicated so much of himself to over the last four years triggers some strange kind of resentment towards the youths. He knows it is an unfair characterization but he feels as if they are privileged little shits who “don’t get it.” Logically he knows it is not their fault considering their age and the kind of bubble they have grown up in but he also suspects they are up to something and it is fueling his discontent. He admires Seth’s lunge which is textbook if uninspired and probably means the young Gimel is about to try something tricky. The kid is fast but the attack looks like it is moving through water from Torates perspective.  Simply put the young man will never be a great swordsman so it is probably best he is always angling to be a sneaky bastard. Sethalus is even more frustrating because he has the rare combination of all the physical and mental tools necessary to become a master of the blade but is essentially lazy by Torates standards.

   Anger simmering low but hot his decision affirmed Torate explodes in a blur deftly parrying Seth’s lunge aside as the sword held behind his back flips back overhead and down in a vicious chop. Seth who was dropping into a crouch to try some kind of leg sweep squeaks as he sees the incoming doom. At the same time, Torates other blade whips Sethalus’s aside and his right leg snaps back in short economical kick directly into young elves chest bringing an audible crunch of rib bone. Sethalus drops his sword and clutches at his middle all the breath driven out of him. Seth having abandoned his attack reacts swiftly and actually manages to get his arm up in defense.  The flat of his knife blade, having seemingly appeared in his hand, laying across his forearm actually parries one of Torates swords but the brutal chop leaves his arm numb. Seth knows he is in a no win position so he tries for a desperate diving retreat. Torate’s swords flick out wide to either side with the speed of a frog tongue one smacking dully into the back of Seth’s neck and the other up into the underside of Sethalus’s chin both leaving bright red welts.

”Dead! Dead!”

   Torate says coolly stepping back his practice swords lowering in a fashion that indicates they are done for today. Sethalus looks angry but bows to his sensei one hand holding a cracked rib. Seth looks a little surprised but then recognition crosses his features as if he realizes something and his lip quirks up so much like Occubus it pains Torate but the young man masters his face to impassiveness as he bows. The people of Peakview are a reserved lot and typically keep to themselves yet there are generally a few interested spectators anytime Torate and his pupils practice swordplay in public spaces. One of the onlookers with a tow-headed toddler on his lap claps enthusiastically at the end of the brief melee. Torate sees it is Garrett and feels momentary guilt for not immediately recalling the name of the child that looks considerably more like Tysaara then the man holding him. Out of his peripheral vision Torate catches a glimpse of Seth and Sethalus as they disappear down the trail out of the park leaning close and whispering conspiratorially to one another. Garrett hops up from the ground cradling the young boy under an arm while the child giggles gleefully. Now appearing a very healthy man in his early thirties, Garret in no way resembles the terrible wreck of mind and body he had been after his rescue from his Coyle captors years ago. In fact by the way he moves Torate estimates he is now much more capable then he has ever was before. Admittedly though he has not had any dealings with the man in years and is curious why he is now approaching him.

”Wow I have not seen those two since they were younger than this little terror here. Seems like they make a formidable pair. Maybe when he is older you can give Sam here a few lessons. I was always quick but never any good with a sword. He will no doubt be quite good at whatever he does. To quote my wife, “Sammael is sheer genetic perfection untainted by any of your inferior material.” I’m taking my boy and setting up residence on some empty land Northwest of the Mythal up in the hills above that ancient dried up river. Going to help establish a Ranger outpost up there with a few good families who want to get a little further removed from the craziness down there.

We are not running out on Tysaara if that is what you are thinking. She told me to leave and take Sam with me. She did say she may drop by from time to time to track his progress and any monetary needs would be provided for if you can believe that shit. She looks at both of us as just one of her many projects. I mean I am exceptional the way she remade me, Traveler level shit you know, but I lost all desire to be a hero or whatever. I just wanted to have some type of normal family life with our child. A couple years back I tried to start an argument putting her lack of motherly love into question just trying to get her to show that she had any real feeling for us. She quirked an eyebrow and said that I would always be important to her that it was her naïve young love of the Garret she lost that drove her magic and knowledge into unimaginable places. When I pushed the subject she actually seemed to get a little excited, which is something at least, but by then she was talking way above my level of understanding. Something about application of fundamental alien techniques to create the necessary spans of time in which to engineer armies of genetically superior specimens that would make the fodder of the minion wars pale in comparison. Shit about the manipulation of Mythal energy and encapsulation of endlessness in the convergence of alternating timelines or some shit. Fuck if I know but it is the most animated I have seen her before or since. Just recently she showed up for dinner, we had not seen her for months mind you, she sat and ate with us while calmly explaining her work is at a critical juncture and that she will no longer be available to be any real part of our lives. I thought I was past pleading to her humanity but seeing her filled me with the feeling of love and need again. I asked her how she could act so unfeeling towards us. She quirked her godsdamned eyebrow again the way she does and said.

“The more pertinent question is why you act and feel the way you do and it is simply because that is how I encoded your personality matrix.”

She said I should still be able to muster the freewill to navigate such dependency issues and to help she had created Sammael for me after all. Then she left patting the boy on the head on the way out. She was not even trying to be mean she is just a stone cold bitch. Anyway I tried to go talk to Occubus but while that guy living up in his house is a great fucking fellow it is not really him and not really of any use to me. I am concerned about her and I still love her. I guess I am programmed that way. You are a Traveler and you used to be her friend so I just thought you might want to check up on her. One thing I can say for sure is that there is some freaky shit going on beneath that happy hospital of hers. The kind of party you and your buddies used to show up to and start murdering folks for. Well that is all I got man. Come look us up if you are ever out our way. Great hunting and fishing up there, natural arbolyte territory. Hades the way you warlocks meddle with shit that old riverbed will be flowing again in no time and the five hundred acres were going to homestead will be worth a fortune.”

   He shakes Torates hand with the grip of someone with supernatural strength who knows how to be careful not to crush bone. Turning he walks away down the same path Seth and Sethalus just exited hand in hand with the toddler Sammael in tow. Despite the questionable parentage the little boy looks up at the dejected man with eyes full of love and perhaps a little too much understanding for one so young. Torate knows better than most what it means to be a parent in every way that truly matters despite not having sired any children of his own. His thoughts naturally turn to Sethalas and to a slightly lesser degree Seth. He knows they are up to something but whatever it is they have hid it from their respective mothers so fuck all if he is going to make it his problem. He recalls memories of Tysaara and can find little comparison with the kind of cold calculating creature Garrett just detailed. Not having any other plans for the day he figures why not stop by o’l hospital. Really more of a multi-faceted complex these days. The Wintersong Academy of Healing Arts and Bio-Wizardry they are calling it. What is with all these assholes naming everything these days?
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:46, Wed 19 Feb 2020.