Fable - Ask No Child Left Behind

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
And so the night went by for the both of them, and it was anything but slow or simple. Anirian nightlife tended to either be extremely pompous and most elite or the exact opposite to such an extent that it was rare Alistair made it through a single night of drinking. In Ragash, it was perfectly in the middle. It was true, they did know how to have a good time here.


The next morning saw Alistair standing outside the Madrassa, there was a painful ringing in his ears accompanied by a headache, but a quick spell ended both of those. Yes, one of the earliest spells that a Dreadlord initiates learned on their own initiative, the hangover cure.

The hum coming from the school was unsettling, almost cult-like to Alistair's ears, or maybe it was just some oath that seemed strange in a foreign language.

He shot Raziya a smirk before playfully elbowing her. "You weren't exactly sleeping either., maybe next-", Alistair never finished his sentence as his eyes focused in on what was going on. Instantly, his eyes narrowed as he step forward at a brisk pace.

His hands subconsciously began to pull at the mana around him, not crafting any spell, but ready to if needed.

"What is going on here?" His voice echoed switching to his commanding voice that he had learned ever since becoming a full Dreadlord.
 
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The goat screamed, weltering about as much as it could while it’s ears and tail kept it in place. It’s kicking did little, its head shaking furiously in uncanny motions. As Alistair got closer he would see that one of the boys had a knife and was drawing blood from the goat around its hind legs.

Bassel was quiet but whenever the goat opened it’s mouth to squeal so would he, his body trembling and convulsing. His hands continued clawing at his eyes. When the boys heard Alistair they froze and the one with the knife hid it behind his back. At first they looked guilty until they saw who it was.

“Ghurayb,” one of the boys said. Intruder, they called Alistair, using the more derogatory word for foreigner. They spoke amongst themselves in Kaliti, different dialects as many of the boys came from all over the Empire, yet if Alistair listened closely he would be able to surmise that they were making fun of Bassel for having a brother. Whether it was jealousy or something else entirely, their snide smiles and bravado were telltale signs of what they thought of the two “brothers.”

“We are,” the one who knew common best spoke up, “doing orders. Making Kabsa. Need meat.” One of the boys nudged Bassel with his foot. The goat bleated. “Your brother? Sick. Very sick. Blood bad for him.” All the boys nodded their head.

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair's fury remained inflamed especially when he saw the way his brother reacted to this goat. These boys were just like any other bullies at a school, assholes that had yet to be put in their place. They thought he couldn't understand them.

He chose to respond in their own language so as not to make them think too hard.

"First, I don't believe your Emporer teaches you to bully others. Second, Kabsa is traditionally made with chicken, and that does not look like a chicken. Third, I would suggest you release the boy and the goat, or we can simply speak with your superiors."

Alistair turned his gaze on Bassel and then looked back to the goat.

"Bassel, are you ok?"

Bassel
 
They passed glances at each other. When Alistair turned his head, one finally killed the goat by drawing the blade across it’s throat. Bassel then, stuck for so long in a silent scream, his mouth in a wide ‘O’ and eyes covered by his dirty hands, convulsed violently. He screamed, a wailing, haunting scream as if he had look death in the eye, as if he saw the endless cycle of life and death.

He was on his hands and knees, screaming as if he wanted to rid himself of his voice. The boys looked back at Alistair and were all grinning.

“Freak.” The said in common, nearly in unison, and picked up the limp body of the goat. The leader turned his head to Alistair.

“Tell our superiors, Ghurayb.”

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair often portrayed himself as the calm and stalwart gentleman that he liked to think he was, but that was not completely true. One did not survive the Academy by being a gentleman. A whispered incantation and a small flick from his fingers and all three of the boys would start to feel a burning sensation in their groin areas. Yes, he was petty.

"Killing goats is dirty work. Be sure to shower well."

That spell would likely last them several hours. He wasn't going to kill these kids, but there were always consequences for just being assholes. Worried about Bassel, but not wanting to just sit there in a stupor, Alistair reached down and yanked the boy to his feet.

"Stand up. Deep breaths, and count to three slowly while focusing on your breathing."

He was already leading the traumatized boy away, wanting to put as much space between him and the bullies as possible.

Bassel
 
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Bassel stood up shakily on his feet, leaning against Alistair. He was much thinner and shorter than Alistair was, still clearly growing. Covered his mouth, one hand on his stomach, and finally, he stopped screaming. It was a awful thing, to experience death and the pain of it, and then to be thrust back into his body. The fear and adrenaline was still coursing through him but he listened to Alistair’s advice.

Count to three. Focus on his breathing. Try not to think about what it felt like, try to forget the pain, the seize of death’s hand against his heart and throat.

Raziya was waiting for them. She had watched but offered no help. It wasn’t her brother getting bullied, and really, she learned more from watching at a distance.

“You have the sight.” She said simply. Bassel said nothing. The woman looked at Alistair. “Now it makes sense why he fears death.”

Alistair Krixus
 
"You can see through the eyes of animals. We have a few like you back in Vel Anir." Alistair said matter of factly.

Truth be told Alistair was still angry at those kids, having barely just held himself back from doing something far worse to them.

He took a closer look at Bassel and frowned. Was it common to fear death as someone who could share the senses of animals? The ones back home did not seem to have that problem...but they were Dreadlords. They were trained to look death in the eyes every day.

"And no one has ever bothered to teach you how to use it?"

Of course, they didn't. This was not a school for mages. Alistair looked to Raziya and frowned, "Is it common to fear death here, for empaths."

Bassel
 
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Bassel was quiet, looking more ashamed than relieved. He didn’t say anything, even when Raziya gave him a probing look. There was a pause that was longer than it needed to be and then Raziya decided to answer Alistair’s question.

“No.” Raziya said simply. She pointed at her own eyes. “I have a similar ability with my eyes. But I don’t think it’s empathy, is it?” She came towards Bassel, reaching out for him but he flinched. She brought her hand back to her side. “You feel it, don’t you. The final breath. And you think it’s your last breath.” Bassel was still for a moment but nodded then.

“I can’t get out of their body until they die.” Bassel admitted. “It’s not very good magic to have. I can’t do anything else. No fire, no enhancements, nothing. I’ve died dozens of times. It doesn’t ever get better.” Raziya nodded her head in agreement. His magic was more of nuisance than it was a boon. “I’m sorry for hiding it from you. I thought you would be… disappointed. You’re a great dreadlord and I….” Bassel raised up his hands in defeat. He didn’t need to say more.

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair was quick to dismiss the apology. He had trouble with his magic, but not all magics were good, some were just bad. However, if there was one thing Alistair believed about magic, there was always a workaround. They just had to find it.

"Nonsense, you just haven't been trained properly. There are always more doors to open with magic...As for the death part, I can't imagine it does get better and I would not blame you. Until we figure more of it out, don't use that."

He understood this was all and emotional trauma for Bassel, but Alistair was going to help him the only what he knew how. By logically breaking down the problem and then going about fixing the problem one step at a time.

"For now, I think it is best if you come with me."

Bassel
 
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“And leave… my home?” Bassel said aloud. There was a emptiness in his eyes as if the thought hadn’t quite ever occurred to him. It had, of course, he had thought about it plenty last night. He had no more family here in Amol-Kalit, but that didn’t make the Empire any less his home. The cooking, the spices, the smells, the language— even the universal language of the sun beating down on his skin and looking over to see the hot sun beating down on a fellow friend.

But Bassel didn’t have many friends at the Madrassa. He wasn’t anything special to want to be a friend towards. He kept his head low, made conversation when acceptable, and tried his best. He didn’t mind the idea of becoming a soldier just for one of Emperor Gerra’s armies. He didn’t mind the idea that he would probably die being that sort of soldier.

Yet that was a lie. A lie that became apparent when every time he managed to trade places with a animal. At first it had been a nothing animal, like a rat in the jaws of a cat, or a scorpion between a bird’s talons. It had hurt but it hadn’t seemed real. It was the larger animals, like pigs or goats or dogs, that were utterly aware of the death that awaited them.

And they felt so, so, so much more. They thought more too. So close to a human. Bassel hung his head. He had no one he’d have to say goodbye to.

“Okay.” He said. “But my common is really bad.”

Alistair Krixus
 
"This home isn't right for you."

Alistair responded simply while his eyes trailed over to the dead animal, and then glanced Raziya. To put it simply, Bassel was soft and the Madrassa was not getting him past that, maybe Alistair could do better. He felt a little obligated to. This kid was supposedly a half-brother, and if there was one thing Alistair knew, it was magic.

He completely dismissed the excuse that Bassel offered.

"Learning language is simple if you know how to do it. I pick one up every year or two, and common is the easiest one."

A plan was already forming in his head. He would bring Bassel home and teach him common, and maybe toughen him up a little. Help him fine-tune his magic just a little and then...maybe pull some strings and see if he could get him in the Academy or something. That would finish the job.

"Isn't there a saying that home is where you make it? Then just make it somewhere else."

Bassel
 
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Bassel looked down. He felt a sort of shame in his belly and it made his cheeks hot. A sense of failure for not doing well at the Madrassa. The guilt of not staying true to his family. The family that was now gone. When Bassel looked back up at Alistair, there was a new family waiting for him. Bassel didn’t think he looked much like Alistair, at least from a distance. Close up, Bassel was shocked by the finer details that matched their individual faces. At second glance, perhaps Alistair did look like his brother.

It wasn’t wrong for him to leave the Empire, was it? There was no one here left for him. His heart ached, the loss of his family and familiar past made his body feel empty. Bassel breathed deeply. Perhaps the shame would go away with time. He exhaled the breath he had been holding, finally collecting his thoughts together.

“I will go with you.” Bassel said. “I have no home here. Once I did. I miss having a family. I miss my brothers and sisters. I was happy to see that I had a brother still. Maybe happier because it was a brother instead of a father.” There was a hint of a grateful smile. “I hope to make a new home with a new family. If it would be alright with you?”

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair just looked at his brother. He could see the hurt and failure in his body language. It probably felt like he was running away, but he was just moving on to better pastures. The family was supposed to raise you up, and they were not doing that for him.

Alistair knew all too well what it felt like when family weighed him down. He would make sure Bassel did not have to go down that that.

After the confirmation that Bassel would be coming with him, Alistair nodded with a soft smile spreading onto his face. He comfortingly patted the young man on the shoulder before he started talking.

"Alright, then we will get you a horse and get everything packed...I think you will like our family."

Bassel
 
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