The Constant State of Your People

"No, no, that's not how you do it," sighed Cast'avan as he took the flint from one of the chicks he was teaching.  "Here, you have to strike it with more force than that."

Just as he picked up a second rock to illustrate his lesson better, Cast'avan felt a shiver run through his feathers.  He puffed up just as one of the younger chicks screeched and fled under him for safety.

"He's not there!"  Shouted a recently familiar voice.

Cast'avan straightened quickly and twisted his head behind him.  Standing there was Cian, who looked like he had been running for weeks—and yet he had been here only a day ago.  Then again Cian and Falmer/Mercutio had both explained that time was something fluid, a concept he still didn't quite grasp.

But the idea that time was not something as concrete as the sun and stars moving was of little importance right now.  As Cast'avan focused on Cian it was easy to feel all of the chaotic emotions radiating off him.  Instead of the controlled waves of feeling Cast'avan had expected from Cian, he felt tumultuous storms of emotions, all of them crashing into one another, feeding off that chaos and creating more chaos.

There was no reason to have Cian repeat his statement.  Cast'avan knew exactly what the panicked man was talking about.  Quickly setting the flint and rock down he waved to Cian.

"My hut," the Av'ikir instructed.

"What good is going to your hut?"  Snapped Cian.

Cast'avan's feathers ruffled as Cian let his emotions get the better of him.  Maybe that should have been expected.  Cian controlled himself so well usually, now that he had lost control he couldn't be held responsible for his words or actions.  Still, that didn't mean the entire plaza had to hear Cian's woes.  He likely wouldn't want them to know them, honestly.

"It will give us privacy, now please, Cian," Cast'avan began to walk towards his hut, leaving the chick exposed to the upset wanderer.

"I don't need privacy!  It doesn't matter anymore!"  Cian shouted like a petulant child.

"That doesn't sound like you," Cast'avan observed.  "Surely you can't be giving up—"

"Mercutio is gone!  There is no way to find him!  You can't use that silver tongue of yours or your empathetic abilities to help!"

"Why are you even here then?"

"I AM IN PAIN!"  Cian shouted, crossing his arms over his chest, nothing but confusion and, indeed, a great deal of emotional pain rushing out of him.

Cast'avan sighed and wrapped a wing around Cian without permission.  He would deal with the repercussions of touching Cian later.  Right now he had a duty to Cian to get him out of the plaza and into someplace safer.  They were making a scene in front of everyone.  It was bad manners to have emotional outbursts in public among the Av'ikir.  It also would hurt Cian more.  No one liked having an entire village know they were emotionally compromised.

"Pain seems to be the constant state of your people," Cast'avan commented, pulling Cian towards his hut.

The man was silent in his agreement as Cast'avan herded him towards his hut.  Cian put up no fight as he was ushered inside.  He didn't wait for permission and sank onto the pillow next to Cast'avan's fire pit.  That explosion of pain and emotion earlier had subsided, now it seemed that Cian was wallowing in the shallows of despair and hopelessness.  These Wanderers were such broken things.  It was painful to know them, in Cast'avan's opinion.  They were wonderful beings, but so badly hurt by their own existence.  He had to wonder if any of them were whole.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Cian said quietly.

Looking over to him, Cast'avan found the man with his head in his hands, fingers tangled in his own curls, looking small in the pale light of the day.  The Av'ikir sighed and sank down next to Cian.  He put a hand on Cian's back.

"It is alright.  At least you didn't level the plaza."

"Have people done that before?"

"No.  But I had cause to worry," chuckled the bird.

Cian did not share his sentiment and refused to smile or look up.

"You had cause to worry," Cian repeated slowly.  "…Mercutio?"

"Falmer?  Oh rain no.  Mercutio…well, he told me when he was younger that he was more of a spitfire, that he had a temper, but when he was with us…whenever he was upset he removed himself from the situation.  Sometimes for a long period of time, but he knew better than to stay when he was upset or uncomfortable," shrugged Cast'avan.  "Want some tea?"

"No I would not like any tea with whatever you put in it to make people calm," Cian hissed.

"Very well then."

Then there was an uncomfortable silence.  Cast'avan was used to these types of silences.  Being the one to help others with their problems, uncomfortable silence came with his job.  He sighed quietly and started running his fingers through the feathers of his wing.  There was always any manner of small bugs or dirt stuck between the feathers.  Apparently the silence bothered Cian more than it bothered Cast'avan, and after only a minute and a half Cian started to speak again.

"He wasn't there."

"I suspected as much.  You don't seem the type to run into a plaza and start shouting when nothing is going wrong," Cast'avan smiled wryly.

Cian did not echo the expression.  Instead he just felt cold, depressed, and reserved.  He was accepting that Mercutio was gone, which confused Cast'avan.  It wasn't as though the man was dead.  From his understanding of these wanderers, they couldn't easily die.

"Why not go looking for him?"  The Av'ikir suggested.

Violet eyes rolled in their sockets and Cian sneered slowly.  "I can't."

"You mean you haven't tried," Cast'avan pushed.

"No I haven't, because there is no point!"  Cian snapped.  "Do you have any idea how large the universe is?  Take your world, then add another, now add another, and another, and then multiply it by the largest number you have an understanding of, and even then you won't be anywhere close to how unfathomably large the universe is!"

"Yes but—"

"There's no guarentee he's in this galaxy, the neighboring one, or across the universe in any direction!  And there's no way I can tell!  It's not as though there are footprints in space, or breadcrumbs, or even a scent to follow!"

"Cian—"

"There's nothing, absolutely nothing and it is as thought Mercutio has disappeared completely because the likelihood of me ever seeing him again is one in a billion infinities!"

"CIAN!"  Cast'avan cawed, hating raising his voice because it could reach rather obscene volumes.

The man jumped slightly, nearly getting up and taking flight.  Cian focused all his attention on Cast'avan, finally, and Cast'avan smoothed his ruffled feathers.

"You are essentially a god who walks between worlds, right?"

"What does this—"

"Humor me and answer my questions."

With an annoyed sigh Cian rested his chin on a fist.  He seemed to gumble something under his breath and then conceded.  Looking back at Cast'avan he nodded.  Nodding back at him, Cast'avan brushed a hand over the feathers on his neck that refused to flatten without aid.

"I would not use the term 'god'…"

"Alright, you are an incredibly powerful creature with the ability to walk between worlds."

"Yes."

"You can emulate any ability you see within seconds."

"That is true."

"You have gone to hundreds of thousands of millions of worlds, seen sights I cannot begin to dream of, done things I'm sure that are impossible for any other creature, and lived through several million lifetimes."

"Yes.  Where is this going?"  The man said quickly.

"Are you telling me, with all of your unfathomable power, all of your lifetimes of experience, and all of your immense knowledge of everything, that you cannot put any of your abilities and skills to the task of finding one man?"

*

Cian's mind slammed into a brick wall, shattered to pieces, and then melted to nothingness.  He stared, like some small creature lost in the gaze of a predator, at Cast'avan as if the birdman was insane.  But he wasn't insane.  In fact, his idea…it had validity.  It had logic.  In some strange and perfectly sound way it made perfect.

"I…" his voice trailed off as soon as he made the sound.

How did he even voice the confusion, and yet complete acceptance, that he felt?  Cian was lost in his own mind, shattered and standing in a circle of pieces, unsure as to where to stop.  It was all a big puzzle, the pieces laid out for him, and he couldn't decide whether to start with the corners or the sides.  Blinking quickly Cian looked down at his hands, because they must hold the answer he was trying to vocalize.  Sadly, there was nothing in them, not even a stray teacup.  Looking back at Cast'avan, Cian made a strained sound.

"I've…never attempted looking for someone.  I never had anyone to look for," he realized, his voice quiet and sad.

Cast'avan seemed to sigh, a look of pity on his face.  That was the truth, wasn't it?  Being what he was, living alone for so long, Cian never had to look for anyone.  There was no one to search for.  No one he knew to be worried about.  Back many lifetimes ago, when he had friends, lovers, those who he could consider family, he didn't have to search for people.  They were all there for him.  There had never been a moment in his life where he had to search for someone he cared about.  Either they were there with him, or they were already gone.

"I don't know where to start," Cian thought outloud.

"You look," Cast'avan answered easily.

"Look where?  I told you, there's no trail for me to follow, no way for me to find a speck of him out in space," he shook his head.

Cast'avan looked so tired of this conversation, but Cian could feel that the Av'ikir took it upon himself to soldier through this.  Brushing his fingers over his beak the birdman took in a breath.

"You misunderstand.  I know you are powerful, that you aren't limited by my world or by anything really.  You don't have to look for someone with your eyes, Cian.  You have far more power than that.  Look for Mercutio.  Look for something about him to find.  His aura, his power, his—"

"What if I can't—"

"Cian," Cast'avan said tiredly.  "Sit here and search for him until you find him.  I'll make sure you are not bothered," he promised.

"…You realize, should I find him, I'll leave right that second."

"I pray for it."

With that, Cast'avan rose and headed out of the hut.  He still had his duties for the day, and couldn't spend all of his time nursing Cian.

For a long while Cian sat on his pillow, staring at the ground but not really seeing it.  Look for something about him to find.  What did Cian choose to look for?  His aura?  That didn't make much sense.  There were powerful auras all over the universe.  Sure, not many could touch his or Mercutio's, but they could easily confuse Cian and lead him down the wrong path.  Space, being as huge as it was, was easy to get lost in.  If Cian was going to stretch out his senses to find Mercutio he didn't want to sit here for months because he wandered down the wrong alleyway of space.  So he came back to the same question: what did he look for to find Mercutio?  Aura was easily confusing, power would be difficult to trace…

Jingle.

Cian stopped for a moment.  A little female chick outside was running by with a string of bells.  Apparently it was for her pet, some creature that looked like a giant frog.

Jingle.

Just like that anklet.  That bloody annoying, unique, stupid, noisy anklet.  That anklet Cian knew for a fact Mercutio would never take off.

Shutting his violet eyes Cian took in a breath.  It had been a long time since he meditated like this.  He didn't know how long it would take, but as he stretched his sense out past Sesmia he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he would not open his eyes until he was five feet from Mercutio.