Javen's story

Chapter 1


  Javen was decidedly in a good mood that morning. It was quiet in the large manor. All you could hear were the birds chirping and the forest trees swaying in the soft breeze. Javen leaned back against the back of the chair and sighed, his violet eyes focused on nothing in particular. He found that even thoughts of his sickened younger brother couldn't dampen his mood.
Kokuro had been always weak and frail. He, Javen and their sister Isha had always gotten along, but as they grew older, Kokuro was able to play with them less and less, until finally, one day, he was sent off to a well known healer on the other side of the world. It was a sad day. Isha tried to be strong, but Javen noted sadly that even he could see through her mask. Later that day, he too fought off tears as he tried to comfort his sister. Saerin wasn't any help. Javen's lazy expression suddenly turned hard as he remembered Saerin's face as Kokuro turned to wave a slim hand in their direction. Javen tried, he tried to be kind to his older brother, but it was no use. Every time he stood up for him or tried to say something nice, he would regret it. Saerin would shoot him down with an insult or a harmful remark. Javen shook his head, realizing that his good mood was gone. He blew at a strand of hair that fell into his face, got up, and padded silently out of his room.
He wandered down the long, lonely hallway; his bare, furry feet padding silently on the cool stone floor. He stopped at a window and leaned against the wall, peering outside where the birds twittered and played.
Javen's home was a large stone house with wide, open windows that were never closed, as there were no shutters nor glass that covered them. It was found on the outskirts of a small village of garecas, situated  in a forest by a rocky ocean shore. His home was the largest building in the area, and it also had the only vineyard and orchard that could be found for miles. The building had a large courtyard in the front, which was a place Javen liked to go to think.
Javen took a deep breath and blew out from his mouth. He rubbed his temple, and then touched his small horns that grew above his long soft ears. They were small and almost barley noticeable, but they were there, and he found he didn't mind them all that much. He was teased about it when he was younger, for they had grew in late. But really, he wasn't all that worried about it. His sister Isha, on the other hand, had their father's horns: they were long and curled, and they sparkled when the sunlight hit them. Kokuro's horns were almost exactly the same as Javen's, and Saerin was born without horns, common enough for half-garecas.
He presumed walking down the long hallway, wondering why he didn't hear Isha's soft, comforting voice floating in the wind. He turned a corner, found that he'd walked the length of the house, and then turned back, just in time to see Saerin come storming out of a room, the door slamming behind him. His breath was coming out in white plumes, as though it were a cold winters day. When that happened, it meant Saerin was mad. Isha shoved open the door, her wide, violet-red eyes tearful as she raced quickly after Saerin.
"Brother! Saerin! Please, just tell me what Ropoto said! Please! It sounded like news of father! Saerin!" she caught hold of his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, glancing back with a cold stare.
"Please, Saerin," she said, softer, "Please, don't keep something about our family from us. He's our father too," she caught his wrist in her small slim hand, but he turned a pushed her away.
"Isha!" he said with venom in his voice, "There is nothing to tell! Go away before I strike you!" she back up, her expression one of shock and terror.
"Saerin-" she started to say, but Javen could take it no more. He walked up, put an arm around his sister's shoulders and gave Saerin what he hoped a stern face.
"Saerin, do not threaten to strike our sister," his brother gave him a stare. Javen felt his older brother's cold breath on his face and he shivered. Isha's arm went around his waist. He could feel her fear and anger as well in the form of a cold aura.
"Do not tell me what to do, little brother. She should know better than to eavesdrop at a door. She's seventeen, not seven," Isha's arm tightened around her brother's waist. Javen felt her anger, and he felt his, but it wasn't as strong as his sisters.
"Don't" she spat. Saerin jumped a little in surprise, "Don't mock me, brother. I had no ill intentions, you know this," tears of anger spilled down her cheeks, "I was worried for you, Saerin, because you seemed down. When you didn't answer me when I asked what was wrong, I followed you over here," Javen rubbed her shoulder, feeling horrible for his poor younger sister, who's tried time and time again to love their brother. He'd tried too, so many times he had lost count. Isha shivered with her fury, "I hate it when you're like this! You mock me and your brothers. You say they're weak and helpless, but you're the one who's weak! Dammit, Saerin! I love you!" she was so cold now that Javen had to let go of her.
"Come on, Isha," he murmured, trying to coax her out of her anger. He hated it when she was angry. It scared him, "Come on, if you keep this up, you'll just make him in even a worse mood," Saerin was glaring down at his sister. Javen fought off tears that threatened to form.
"Saerin, please, you're tormenting her, let it go," he said softly. He felt Isha was ready to cry. He didn't want that to happen. He desperately wanted to avoid it. Saerin's Cold became worse.
"She brought it on herself, why do you defend her?" suddenly, Javen's anger flared.
"ENOUGH!" he thundered. Rocks and dirt from outside flew in the manor and rained down on Saerin. Frost and ice formed on his hair and eyebrows. Saerin's face turned from a glare to a sneer.
"Even with the stone, you're still not confident in you're power, are you, little brother?" it took all of Javen's will power, for he had the stubbornness of the Gareca's, to let go of his pride, turn and walk away from his brother, ushering his little sister to the kitchen, to see if there was anything there that could cheer her up. He felt Saerin's eyes on his back as he hurried away, and could sense the smile that  twisted his lips.

They hurried into the kitchen, and then Javen made a big fuss about brightening Isha's mood. He asked the kindly Cook if she could make Isha's favourite cookies, got out some playing pieces, and he and his sister played a game for about half an hour. When the cookies were done, they dug into those, making a mess. The Cook was distraught about all the crumbs that were on her floor and shooed the two young Gareca's out of the kitchen. Grinning from ear to ear and with cookie crumbs clinging to their clothes, Javen and Isha made their way outside and down to the rocky beach. But after only a few short minutes of splashing each other in the cold salty water, Javen found that Isha's good mood was faked, and that her eyes were sad.
"What's wrong?" he asked as they sat down together on a patch of grass under a tree near the beach. She sighed.
"Nothing really. I just really miss Kokuro, that's all. Sometimes I miss him so much it aches," he took her hands in his.
"I know, Isha," he said, "I miss him too," Javen's heart hurt to think about it, even though, not even half an hour ago, it couldn't dampen his mood. He took a shaky breath, and then kissed his dear little sister's forehead. She leaned her small body against him, and they sat in silence. Javen thought about what his brother said about the stone, and instinctively touched the earring that dangled from his right ear.
Instead of choosing the eldest son, Saerin, as the heir, the stone was passed onto Javen, for reasons he nor Saerin understood.
The small, pea sized stone was the heirloom of Javen's family for generations upon generations. It has powerful magical properties, which Saerin would find much more useful than Javen ever could, since his magic was powerful on it's own, and Saerin's magic needed a talisman to help him use it to it's full power.

Javen, after a while, realized that he and Isha had both dozed off. Javen carefully picked his sister up in his arms, trying not to wake her, and then walked back towards their house. Isha, he thought as he looked down at her face, looked happier in her sleep, and didn't want to wake her up to the bitter reality of their small world. He got home swiftly and carried his sister to her room, happy he didn't pass his brother on the way. He set Isha down on her stuffed feather bed and pulled the blankets over her small form. He smiled fondly, kissed her forehead, and then headed down the long hallway and out into the courtyard. He sat down on the stone ground, and then combed his fingers threw his dark brown hair. He sat there in silence for some time, until he felt a presence behind him.
"Ropoto," he said respectfully. The spirit glided so that he was in front of Javen, and then settled into a sitting position. Ropoto was a spirit that was in debt to Javen's father. Nobody understood how a spirit could become in debt, but no one asked any questions. Ropoto was usually in the form of a two tailed cat. His fur was a shiny blue color, with a silver stripe that started from his forehead, went down his back, and stopped at the tip of each tail.
"Greetings, Javen. You seem down. Tell me, what is bothering you?" Ropoto's eyes showed no real interest, yet Javen didn't really mind.
"Well, Isha wanted to know what you and Saerin were talking about in that room, but Saerin wouldn't say. He got mad and well...threatened her. She thought it was about father," Ropoto chuckled, it wasn't what you would call pleasant, but Javen didn't seem to notice.
"Fights siblings have," he mused. Javen looked up, curiosity covering his sad expression.
"what were you talking about? Was it something important?" Ropoto's face was impassive. He took his time in answering. Javen waited impatiently, his ears twitching like a cat's. When Ropoto finally started to speak, poor Javen was as confused as ever.
"Your father his thinking about handing the earring down to your sister instead of you," he said slowly, as though speaking to a mere child. Javen's anger flickered.
"Why would you tell Saerin something like that?" loose stones shivered on the ground, and his curious expression had turned confused and hurt.
"Well, he is the eldest, he should know these things,"
"Yes, but...I am the heir to the stone, not my brother,"
"Yes, but your father told me to tell the one I thought was right for this news, and since your brother is the eldest, well, I thought he was the best choice," Ropoto said, his whiskers twitching. Javen felt the house tremble with his unchecked power, and he tried to calm himself down. He took deep breaths, and didn't look at Ropoto directly, scared he would loose his temper in front of the spirit.
"I wish..." Javen mused out loud, "I wish you would understand why me and Saerin are in bad terms. When Father gave me the stone instead of him, he got angry. He thinks I'm too immature and childish to have it. I...I think he's right. I'm sure Isha would be the best choice...I really do, but, I don't want to give it to Isha," Ropoto seemed mildly interested.
"That seems rather selfish," Javen shook his head.
"No, it's not like that. Saerin threatened Isha today, and he treats me like he does because he didn't get the stone. If he started to hurt and threaten my sister even more if I gave her the stone, I...I just won't!" he took a rock in his hand and hurled it as hard as he could. It hit the courtyard wall with a crack and fell to the ground.
"How can you defy your father's words, boy? You have no power over him. You have no right to speak against him," Javen gritted his teeth together.
"Why can't I just talk to him?" he asked desperately, "Tell him what my brother did? Will he think about it after I've told him that?" Ropoto shrugged.
"I doubt it, Javen. You're father is stubborn as an horse, and I cannot find a reason that could change his mind," a silence followed the spirit's words, and he started to clean his ears. He almost looked cute. The young Gareca was quiet. Thoughts of his father flickered through his head. He fought off his growing fear that he wouldn't be able to change his fathers mind. He was scared. Scared for his sister, scared of his brother, was scared for and of his father. Well, he thought, trying to drive away the scary thoughts, it's still not certain he will give the stone to Isha, which is good. If he is going to, then I will do everything in my power to change his mind. He smiled grimly. He got up from the ground and bowed to Ropoto.
"Thank you for your time, I have made up my mind," he said to a bemused spirit, and then disappeared into the house. Ropoto cocked his head in the direction Javen went, as if considering the idea of following him. Some other time, he thought, and went back to cleaning his ears.


Javen had been laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling for a around an hour when suddenly an idea popped into his head, an idea that could change his father's mind. What if, he asked himself, trying to contain his excitement, what if I brought this to Kokuro, so I could heal him! Wouldn't Father think that a good idea? Would he let me keep the stone if I do that? His happiness overrode all of his doubt. He sat up in bed, his eyes glowing and his face shining. Yes. When I see Father next, I shall ask him.
"Javen, dinners ready," Javen looked over at his doorway and found that Isha was there.
"Hello, Isha!" he said. He was so happy he could barely hold it in, "Dinner's ready? Great!What is it?" he jumped up and almost skipped out the door, kissing his sister on the cheek.
"Why are you in such a good mood?" she asked, trying to keep up with her glowing brother.
"Oh, uh, nothing," he said, attempting to sound indifferent, "nothing, nothing at all," Isha shook her head, feeling a little better herself. She followed him down to the kitchen, which was, unfortunately where her good mood left her. Saerin was there. Javen also found his brother's presence had smushed his rather good mood. The two siblings sat down, and then started to eat. Javen felt Saerin's cold stare and squirmed in his chair. He felt...sad. Sad that his life turned out the way it was. He wanted it to be like it was, when they all played at the beach together. Saerin actually smiling, and splashing Javen in the face with cold water, purposely making it colder; Isha tripping Saerin, making him fall in the water, and Isha and Javen laughing so hard they were crying; Kokuro, his pale face grinning as he threw mud at his siblings. And...mother and father, grinning, holding hands...embracing them...he sighed heavily. He wondered if Saerin remembered those times, when he was their friend. Javen missed Kokuro too. He hoped his plan worked. He looked over at Isha, whose face was impassive, but he knew she was sad.
"Saerin, I'm sorry about today, I shouldn't of eavesdropped at the door," Isha said, her voice careful. Saerin frowned.
"I don't think that will work now, sister. Maybe if you'd have said it earlier, I might have forgiven you. But you were childish and didn't think about your actions. I will not forgive you now," Saerin said,  very blunt. Isha took a deep breath. Javen was angry.
"Stop it, Saerin! She said sorry, just forgive her! She's your sister!" the house shook with his anger. Isha's eyes flickered to her brother's face. Saerin smirked.
"I don't know why father intrusted you with the stone, brother. You cannot control your power even without the earring," Javen slammed his hand on the stone table, imprinting it with an hand print.
"Stop it! You are a bastard, Saerin! A bastard! Leave this room! LEAVE!" Saerin didn't even flinch. He took his plate of almost untouched food, and left. The dining room was quiet for the rest of the meal, no one looked up from their own plates. They were to busy trying not to think about what had just happened.

Chapter 2


One excruciatingly slow week past by. But it was over, and Javen rejoiced, for it brought his Mother and Father home. Mother was a small young human. Javen was scared to touch or even be near her, for fear that he would break her. She was pretty, in a frail sort of way. She always reminded Javen as a sort of fairy spirit. She seemed to flit from one place to the next. She had long dark brown hair and blue eyes, which always unnerve him. They seem to always be watching him when he's in the same room as her. Every twitch brought her eyes flinging back to his face. His father, on the other hand, was distant and short tempered. His dark blue-almost black-hair made his pale face almost white. Javen was a bit nervous, but he knew he must ask his father before setting off to see if he could save Kokuro.
Dinner that night was quiet. Their mother sat by her husband, staring intently at her children. Javen kept away from Saerin, not wanting to upset his mother or father. His sister sat beside him. A few minutes into the meal and their mother spoke to him, her voice thin and flitty as ever.
"Javen, darling," she said, her eyes flicking up from the table where they rested for a second, "I see you forgot to fix what you did to the poor, battered table," Javen cursed himself for not fixing the hand print he made. He bowed his head shamefully.
"I am sorry, Mother. I will fix it after the meal. It will never happen again," he heard Saerin chuckle quietly, and he felt like leaving. But he didn't, of course.
"Ah, do not take it so seriously, my dearest. It was a mistake, I presume, and I forgive you," her eyes turned to torture Saerin, who always seemed uncomfortable and twitchy under her gaze.
"Saerin, see me an hour after dinner. Do not be late," he nodded, almost looking like he'd rather be somewhere else.
"Yes Mother, I shall be on time,"
"Good," nothing else was said for a while until their mother asked her daughter about her magic.
"Are you practising your powers, Isha dear?" Isha flushed. Javen knew she had been practising, but not very often. She told him a while back that she couldn't concentrate on her training because of her frequent fights with Saerin.
"Yes, Mother," she said feebly, "Yes, I have been training...training hard..." their father shot her a glance and was about to say something, but his wife waved her hand, cutting him off.
"I hope so, Isha. It wouldn't be very good at all if you haven't been," Isha nodded quickly and tried to hide her red face, "And you?" she asked Javen, "have you been practising?" Javen looked up at his mother, trying to find out if it was alright to lie. He wanted to tell the truth, but he was torn between fear of his mother, and wanting to please.
"Yes," he said finally, "yes, Mother, I have been practising,"
"good. I hope you have been too, my dear Saerin," Saerin nodded.
"I have, Mother,"
"Wonderful. I shall have you three demonstrate to me tomorrow afternoon," Javen sighed inwardly, knowing he should at least practice a little before he showed his mother. His thoughts turned to his father. Javen hoped he would agree to his plan. He hoped his father wouldn't get mad.
A few minutes later, Javen excused himself from the table. He wandered into his bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed. He picked up the rock that was on his bedside table. He found it last year while he was walking down the beach. The smooth purple stone felt solid in his hand, yet when he rolled it in his palm, it's oval shape became deformed as easily as hot metal. He couldn't even pick up a rock without changing it. He put the stone back on the tabletop and fell onto his back, staring at the ceiling...

Javen and Saerin are walking down a street. They are younger. They stop at a small store. The sign on the window states that it's "Rimba's Sweet Shop" Saerin and Javen stare into the shop, their eyes wide. They search their pockets for money. Saerin comes up with nothing and Javen finds himself with a coin. His brother looks disappointed, and starts to walk forward once again.
"Hey! Saerin!" Javen calls, "You want something, don't you?" Saerin shrugs.
"Don't care," he says, but Javen knows he does. Javen, being generous by nature and feeling guilty when he has something someone wants, hurries into the sweet shop, and buys two pieces of Saerin's favourite candy. He runs out of the shop and catches up to his brother.
"here," he says, handing him a piece of sticky candy. Saerin doesn't smile, but he takes it.
"Thanks," his brother says. Javen smiles and punches his brother's shoulder affectionately.
"Huh," he says, laughing, "Doesn't look like it. Come on, brother, smile for me," Saerin's mouth twitches, and then he bursts out laughing.
"Aw, little brother, you look so hilarious when you grin like that. No wonder the girls stare at you," Javen flushes, his cheeks burning. He sucks on his candy.
"No they don't. I'm too dopey," Saerin ruffles his little brother's hair.
"Ha, you are pretty dopey, Little bro. But they still gawk at you. Don't get me wrong, but I think you won't have any trouble finding a wife when you grow older," Javen frowns.
"What's that mean? I'm never gonna have a wife! They're too much trouble,"  he declares. Saerin chuckles.
"Oh, little brother, you make me laugh," he starts to suck on his candy too. Javen grins, and then follows his brother, thinking him the most wonderful person in the whole world...

A tear trickled down to Javen's temple as he stared at the ceiling, wondering why his world changed. He never understood why Saerin had to change so suddenly. Why couldn't he just accept that he wasn't the heir to the stone so they could become friends again? And why does Mother have to be so freakishly scary? He thought, rubbing his eyes. He realized he should go fix the table. He got up, straightened out his clothes, and hurried over to the dinning room. It was empty, which pleased Javen greatly. He found the hand print and brought the table back to normal. He shifted his weight onto his heels and smiled. He felt like he had finally done something productive. Having finished admiring his handiwork, Javen walked out of the room into the big hallway and followed it to his Father's room. He knocked on the door, scared that he was going to make his father angry.
"Come in," his father called out, and so he opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. His father was crouched over his desk, a quill in hand, writing with his neat crisp strokes over paper.
"Father," Javen said, bowing his head respectively. His father sighed.
"What is it, Javen. I'm busy, if you cannot tell,"
'I know, Father. I am sorry to intrude, but something Ropoto said has troubled me greatly, and I would like to compromise with you," his father looked up, interested.
"Oh? What is troubling you?"
"Well, Ropoto said that you are thinking about giving Isha the Stone, and I-" Javen's father cursed.
"Stupid Spirit. He should mind his own business. I did not tell him to prance around and tell everyone. Does Isha know?"
"No, she does not,"
"Good,"
"But, Father. If I might not seem so blunt. I don't like this plan. Saerin has been acting strange and ill towards me. I have known for a while that it is so because he wanted the Stone. He wanted to be the heir. If he has been treating me like this because I have the stone, he shall treat Isha the same," Javen was shaking, wanting his father to understand. His father shook his head.
"It is not that simple, Javen. I cannot simply change my mind because of feuds between you siblings,"
"But Father! I must say that Isha is best suited to be the heir of the stone. She's smart, loyal and careful. But, please, hear me out! I would like to make a compromise with you. If I do something...do something to prove myself, would you let me keep the stone...would, would you?" Javen's Father thought for a moment and sigh heavily.
"What would this deed be?" he asked his son. Javen swallowed. He knew his father was worried about Kokuro, but family wasn't something he was usually terribly worried about.
"Um...the deed would be, to..."
"To do what?" his father snapped, "as you can see, Javen, my desk is full of letters I need to finish and papers to write. I do not have time for useless mumbling,"
"I want to go see if I can save Kokuro with the stone. If I succeed in doing so, will you name me the heir to the Stone once again?" his father sighed, and turned back to his papers.
"I do not care. I dislike these family feuds. Do what you want. I will make you the heir if you bring back the stone, having news that you have cured your brother," it took Javen a few moments to understand what his Father had said. When he finally realized that good fortune was with him, his face split into a wide grin. One so big, his father mused, that it looked abnormal.
"Go," he said gruffly, "before I change my mind," Javen bowed, and hurried out, calling over his shoulder:
"I'll leave in a week, then! Thank you Father!"


For the rest of the week, Javen was in such a good mood that not even his failure at impressing his mother when he demonstrated his magic could darken it. He completely forgot about it the next minute actually, because he was watching his sister. Isha's focus for her power was through dancing. He loved to see her dance. It was fluid and soft. It was slow at first, but then it got faster and faster until she was but a blur. Isha seemed in a good mood, except when around Saerin. But now a days it was rare to see them around each other.
A few days before he left, when he and Isha were walking to the village, he finally mustered up enough courage to tell her why he was leaving.
"Isha...can I tell you something? Can you not get mad?" Isha glanced over at her older brother.
"Why would I get mad?" Javen shrugged.
"Um, well, as you know...I'm leaving tomorrow, and not just to heal Kokuro. You see...I found out afterward what Ropoto and Saerin were talking about in that room," Isha bit her lip.
"Go on," she said.
"They were talking about how father wants to give you the stone. He wants you to be the heir," Isha looked upset.
"Why? Do you know?"
"No...I went to talk to father about it, but I didn't really ask him why, it didn't seem important," his sister was silent for a while. When she finally spoke, she sounded hurt and angry.
"Why would father give me the stone? I don't want it! He knows it! You would be better off keeping it," Javen sighed and looked at the ground.
"No. To tell you the truth, I don't think I'm very good at it. You'd be much better. You're smart and clever...kind...generous, and good at magic, which I'm really bad at. Saerin's right when he says I'm too childish for it. I'm too-"
"Javen! Don't be so hard on yourself! You're doing fine," Javen waved his hand before his sister could go on.
"I don't think I'm doing fine, but one thing I'm sure about is that I don't want you to have the stone. If Saerin is treating you this badly already, he'll treat you worse if you have the Stone. I won't let that happen..." Isha catches his hand and holds it tight.
"Javen...thank you. It hurts that I can't do anything. I feel useless..." her brother stopped short, and Isha with him.
"Sister," he said with anger that did not suit him, "Isha. You are not useless. Don't go saying that. You do much for me and the family, even if you don't think so," and with that, he started to walk at a quicker pace. Isha wasn't used to Javen being angry at her, so she wasn't sure what to do.
"I'm sorry, Javen," she said after a while, "I'm too hard on myself," her brother sighed and squeezed her hand.
"It's me who should be sorry, Isha. I tell you not to be hard on yourself, yet I'm worse. I'm just stressed by all the things that are happening," Isha squeezed his hand in return.
"It's all right, brother, you don't have to be sorry," Javen smiled softly.
A few minutes later, he and Isha were on the streets of the village. They went to the market and browsed for supplies for Javen's trip, not really in any hurry. Javen bought a new fur cloak; his old one was torn and worn thin. Isha bought him a small good luck charm. It had a coin with multiple holes in it, where strings were attached that held beads and feathers.
"I know it doesn't do anything, and it's useless," Isha said as she gave it to her brother, "But it reminded me of you," he smiled.
"It's not useless," he said, "I'll use it to remember you. That's something, isn't it?" Isha blushed. They shopped around a little more, and then retreated from the busy crowd into the less populated streets. They passed Rimba's Sweet Shop on the way back to their house. Javen stopped, thought for a moment and then went inside. Isha followed after him, quite puzzled. The little bell on the door rang as they entered the small store. An old kindly gareca at the counter smiled at them. Rimba. Javen remembered him.
"Javen! You haven't come for a while," Javen nodded.
"I know," he said. He looked around the room and found everything was the same. The cookies and cakes were displayed at the counter. The hard candies were by the window, and the soft sweets sat on the shelves that hugged the two far walls. Javen smiled, seeming a little distant.
"Where have you been these past few years, Javen?" Rimba asked, "and where's your brother?"
"My brother..." Javen murmured. It seemed he didn't hear the first question, or he ignored it, "my brother isn't here, he couldn't make it. But my sister's here. Isha, this is Rimba," Isha smiled.
"Hello, nice to meet you,"
"Nice to meet you too, Isha. Have a look around, I probably have a few things you might like," while his sister and Rimba talked, Javen went over to a shelf, and found Saerin's favourite sweets. He took four and went back to the counter.
"Can you wrap these?" he asked the ageing gareca. Rimba and Isha looked over at him. Rimba grinned.
"Getting your brother his favourite?" Javen nodded.
"I'm not sure if he will accept them..." Rimba looked confused, but didn't ask anything.
"Well, I hope he does," Isha got some candy too, and then they bade goodbye to Rimba and went out the door.


Chapter 3


Javen woke with the sun the day of his departure.  He had packed all his things the night before; packing and then repacked around three times before he was satisfied. Javen rolled off his bed with a sigh. He took the wrapped candies from his bedside table and tiptoed out into the quiet hallway. He followed the long corridor until he came to Saerin's room. The door mocked him as he debated whether to knock or not. Too scared? It asked. Javen gritted his teeth, but didn't move. He decided to put the sweets by the door. He knew Saerin wouldn't miss them. Because...he's Saerin, He thought with a smile. He found himself looking at the door fondly. He could almost hear it laughing.
"Stupid door," he muttered, "I'm not smiling at you," he realized that he heard movement within his brother's room. He scrambled into the next room as quickly as he could. He made it just as his brother opened his door. Javen peeked through the small crack in the doorway, not having closed the door the whole way. Saerin looked around, seeming annoyed. When he looked down, he seemed almost startled as he saw the small brown package. He picked it up and shook it. And then he smiled. Not a smirk or a sneer, but a smile. A real smile. It was a small one, but it held happiness, and Javen felt it. Then the smile was gone, but Saerin didn't seem as horrible as he usually was. Javen felt that he was more...lighthearted...lighter? Brighter? Whatever it was, it was very obvious when Saerin shook his head, and said with some fondness:
"Oh, Javen, what a quirky one you are," then he went back into his room, his robe swishing at his ankles. Javen felt like his heart would burst. He knew it. He knew Saerin had a good side to him. He grinned, suddenly feeling so much better. He jumped out into the hallway again, deciding he was going to go to the courtyard. His boyish glee didn't even fade when he found Ropoto sitting where he usually sat.
"Hello," he said happily, settling down beside the spirit.
"Hello, Javen," Ropoto said, both his tails twitching, "You're leaving today?"
"Yes," Javen said. He grinned, "I'm going to miss all of you, but I'm so excited to see Kokuro again!" Ropoto's expression didn't change.
"Is that so? How interesting..." Javen shook his head, knowing Ropoto thought it far from interesting.
"well, at least some people are going to miss me. Isha said she will, but I'm not sure about Mother or Father...or Saerin..." but thinking of Saerin made him grin all the more, "Anyway! I'm leaving soon, after everyone's up and we've all had breakfast," Ropoto grunted.
"Wonderful news, boy. Now, can you please leave or be quiet? I'm thinking," Javen's curiosity was great.
"What are you thinking about, Ropoto?" the spirit's eyes closed.
"None of your business,"
"Come on," Ropoto's eyes shot open and he glared at Javen.
"Nothing! I'm not thinking about anything! I can't think if you are nagging me all the time!" Javen hid a smile, "now," the spirit said, "Leave, or shut it," he resumed the "thinking pose" as Javen liked to call it: His tails were splayed out neatly, his eyes were closed and he sat straight and as tall as a two tailed spirit cat could be. Javen heard footsteps coming from inside, and he turned his head around to find his mother. Even then his mood didn't waver, nor did his smile falter.
"Hello mother!" he said, a boyish grin forming dimples on his cheeks. His mother smiled back, but not with as much radiance as her son.
"Hello, dear. Breakfast is ready to be served. Ropoto, you seem sullen today," Ropoto made a small noise, but didn't answer. Javen jumped up onto his feet and carefully locked arms with his mother, and then lead her back inside to the dining room.

It was a nice meal. Not the best one Javen had, but he wanted to make the most of it; it was going to be his last meal with his family for a long while, so why not? Afterwards, he went back into his room to get his things. He threw his cloak over his clothes, and then grabbed his back pack. Before he left, he turned to look at his room one last time. After a minute, he started to walk once more, closing the door behind him.

He was going on foot, and then getting transport farther away in a larger human city, due to their technology. That's what he was doing, and no one could change his mind; Isha found that out soon enough.
"But," she countered, worry plain on her face, "it will be faster with a mount, and it can carry your things." Javen shook his head for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes.
"No," he said firmly, "It will get in the way. I'll have to buy it food, board it and stop for it to rest. I don't have all that time or money. And anyway, Jaela is yours, I shouldn't take her," Isha huffed.
"Fine," she said, finally giving in, "I'll let you go, as long as you don't do anything foolish or stupid, and be safe," he smiled, touched by her worry.
"I'll be safe. Nothing'l happen to me!" he gave her a wide grin and kissed her cheek. She hugged him tight, and didn't let go for quite sometime. Javen imagined because she didn't want him to see her tears. He reassured her once again that he'd be fine, and then went to say goodbye to his parents. His mother came first.
"Goodbye, Darling. I hope you come back," he was hesitant to hug her, for she seemed so small and pale. When he embraced her, she whispered words to him.
"Javen, do not think me so weak. I can do much more damage to you than you can to me," Javen's cheeks flushed as he realized she knew he thought her small and weak. He knew she wasn't weak mentally in anyway; so far away from being weak minded, that you can tell just by looking at her. Yet, due to his kind nature and his need to protect, he overlooked that and mostly thought of her physical strength.
"Alright, Mother," he whispered. He kissed her on the cheek and then shook hands with his father, not sure exactly what to say. When he finally spoke, all that came out was:
"Thank you, Father," his father's grouchy face softened a little, just a little bit.
"Now go," he growled, "before it gets dark," Javen nodded. He turned to his brother. He smiled, but Saerin didn't smile back. Javen bit his lip, grinned and then bowed. He didn't see his brother's partly confused expression.
"I, Javen, will personally bring you back a bunch of your favourite sweets. Count on it," he looked up and grinned once more. Saerin looked indifferent. Though Javen saw a little spark appear in his eyes.
"Why would I want sweets?" he growled, sounding almost exactly like his father. Javen smiled, but didn't answer the question.
With his pack in hand and his cloak about his shoulders, he started off, waving and waving at his teary-eyed sister until he turned at a bend in the road and disappeared from view. Everyone turned back, seemingly uninterested. Everyone except for Isha, who stood staring at the road, tears rolling off her cheeks even though a smile played at the corners of her mouth. She was worrying already, and she would worry some more.


Javen followed the road, each step almost a bounce. He was so happy that he was finally going he could hardly contain it. This happiness was contagious to all who passed by the beaming half-gareca. He stopped for lunch in the early afternoon. He pondered on where to stop for the night as he looked over his map. He decided on a small village near a dense forest. When he put his map away, he lay down on the ground in a small gassy meadow near the road. He stared up at the sky, the fat lazy clouds dawdling in the never ending blue. He sighed happily. He watched the clouds for a few more minutes and then packed his belongings and went on his way. Around five hours later he was safely in the inn. He felt he had never went to sleep on such a soft bed. He slept like a log, and in the morning, he got a small breakfast and started to walk once again. That day and the next where uneventful and quiet. He was happy for his solitude. He thought a lot about how Kokuro was and asked himself why he hadn't thought about doing this before. He felt guilty, realizing he could have tried to help Kokuro a long time ago. That let down his mood a little-and, during the next four days, he yearned for company and conversation.

His food supplies was low, so, the morning of the tenth day of his departure, he went to a small market to buy food. Javen browsed the shops and bought some vegetables, fruits, bread and cheese. He was about to head for the road, but he was almost run over by a girl who ran into him.
"Ooh," she said, not sounding sympathetic at all, "Terribly sorry," and then she hurried off. Javen frowned in her direction, but then turned to find two human guards tearing his way.
"Out of our way!" one of them hollered, "A thief! A reward for anyone who brings her to us!" a crowd of  people followed them, trying to be the first to catch her. Javen shrugged, wanting to help the poor girl, but finding he didn't really have anytime. But when he turned down a narrow alleyway-a short cut to the main road- he ran into the human girl again. But, this time, he didn't let her pass.
"What did you steal?" he asked. She growled.
"None of your business. Now let me pass,"
"No," Javen took her arm. With his great strength, it was quite useless to try to get free. She tried punching him in the face with her free hand, but he blocked it with no difficulty.
"What did you steal?" he asked again, trying to sound calm and kind. She whimpered, going limp.
"Just a piece of fruit, Sir. Nothing expensive, Sir. Please let me go," he loosened his grip, and she tried to twist out of his grasp. She succeeded to a certain degree: she got free, but moments after, she was in a headlock. Javen felt bad, he didn't know why he was doing this, but he didn't want her to get caught.
"I'm helping you," he said.
"No your not! You can't fool me," she hissed, trying to squirm out of the lock. He bit his lip. He really wanted her to believe he was good.
"I'm going to help you escape," he said slowly, " I want to help you. Okay? Please, just trust me," they both heard footsteps and voices coming closer.
"Let me go!" she growled, in a panic. He let her escape the headlock and grabbed her arm, hurrying into another alley.
"Stay here, please," he said, "I'll ward them off," he let go of her arm, and she rubbed her wrists. He hurried out into the street, where the guards were.
"Guards!" he called, a bit shakily, though he felt it didn't matter, "I saw the thief go that way," he pointed to a random direction. The guards looks were grim.
"Come on," a guard told the others. They started off. Javen went back to the alleyway, but the girl wasn't there. He shook his head, a bit downcast. He didn't think she would leave, but apparently she did. He looked one last time at the place where she stood, and wandered back into the streets, shuffling his feet, sad and lonely. He thought that, if he he showed kindness, she would thank him. But, she was almost like Saerin in some odd way. She was too proud, he guessed, as he walked out of the city and into the countryside. She also probably thought he was going to tell the guards where she was. He pondered on it for a while, until he stopped for lunch and watched the clouds pass by, finding it was getting colder and colder every hour.


Chapter 4

Damn that stupid brother of mine, Saerin thought angrily. I hope he's blown over a cliff in this wind. He stared at the bag of sweets Javen had set by his door the day he left. He hadn't touched any of them. And he probably never would. He cast a cold eye out the window, watching the trees bend and dance in the wind. Dancing, he scoffed. They aren't dancing, they're bowing. He shifted in his chair, wondering when Magnus would get there. He cursed the human's slowness and wondered why he even thought about asking him to do the favour. An irritating knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Who's there?" he growled. A small, timid voice answered.
"Saerin, it's me. There's someone to see you, and Ropoto's here as well," Saerin frowned.
"Let them in," the door opened and in came the human and the spirit. Isha smiled at Saerin, but he didn't return it. Stupid, he thought. Why does she try even though she knows I won't smile back? Isha shut the door softly, not wanting to bother her brother. Ropoto and the human both settled down on the two chairs near Saerin. Magnus and Ropoto were waiting for Saerin to talk, but he seemed to have forgotten about them momentarily. He looked out the window again, wondering if Javen had lost the stone yet. Damn stupid Father was to actually promise Javen that...
"Saerin? Sir?" Saerin's mind slowly went back to the present.
"What?" he asked slowly, daring Magnus to try to make him speak. Magnus puffed up his chest.
"Well, Can you tell us why we're here?"
"No,"
"No?"
"Yes, no," Saerin raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. The odd thing is, even though his expression was one of amusement, it was a frightening face. Magnus turned his head to look at what the spirit thought, but, as he expected, Ropoto didn't seem to notice or mind. Magnus smiled.
"Well, we won't know why we're here unless you tell us, Sir," Saerin nodded.
"Very good. Now, what if I slit your throat for being an annoying pussycat? Would you know why you came then? Would I be able to tell you?" Magnus cleared his throat.
"No, Sir," Ropoto's tail twitched.
"You were saying, Saerin, that pussycats are annoying? Do you find me annoying?" Saerin smiled mockingly.
"Pussycats, my dear Ropoto, do not have two tails. So, no. I do not find you annoying,"
"Fine, a good answer, Saerin," he waved a paw dismissively, not really paying attention anymore.
"Now, Magnus. I have a job for you. If you cannot do this simple task, I shall have no need for you. Understand?" Saerin leaned back against his chair.
"Yes, Sir," Magnus sat a bit straighter. His cocky smile came back, making his sharp cat like teeth glint in the dull light that came through the window.
"Good. Now, understand this. You are not to be seen. This is the most important part. Do not be seen," the human cocked his head in an audacious sort of way. Grinning like an idiot, that stupid human. Saerin thought, He's so pompous...
"I'm listening,"
"Good," Saerin was only hiding his annoyance by a thin veil. Saerin's breath was turning the air cold around him, but it wasn't noticeably making steam. Not yet, anyway, "Now, I want you to follow my brother. Watch him carefully take note of where he goes, what he does. But always watch the earring. He keeps it with him at all times. Watch it. Closely. Can you do that? And when he's in a building. Burn it. Try to get the earring. Kill him if you can," Magnus' smile was a little bit too boastful.
"Of course I can. Anything this minor is a piece of cake," Saerin restrained himself from hissing with displeasure. The half-gareca turned to the spirit.
"Where is Javen now, Ropoto?" he asked. The spirit hesitated.
"Well, right now he is weeks away from any large city in the human territory. He's somewhere around a week's travel on foot to a small village called Maly. That is all I can tell you," Saerin turned to Magnus.
"Do you have that?" Magnus grinned, inclining his head.
"Yes'ir!" much to haughty...Saerin mused as the human walked out the door. Ropoto snorted.
"Seems you got a pretty energetic follower there, Saerin," the half-gareca growled in discontent.
"Energetic and haughty. He has too much self-confidence. He's terribly troublesome to cope with. I feel I will cut out his guts even before we start a conversation," Ropoto hopped down from the chair and started towards the door.
"But, nonetheless, he has stayed with you for years now. He is one of the only you can trust. He is haughty, yet he is too stupid to betray you," he padded out the door, his whiskers brushing the door with barely a whisper. Saerin leaned against the back of his chair, brow creased in a frown, musing over what he should do next.


Javen trekked through the snow, his tall figure hunched under the weight of his back sack. Snowflakes blurred his vision. Dark night was already setting in. He cast a glance about him, trying to find the familiar sight of village lights. Javen judged from his map he should be only yards from the small rustic town, yet the blizzard that had hounded him for nearly a week made the scope of his vision minimal.
Should be in this clearing… Javen heaved aside the branches of a snow-laden spruce and stepped into a well-lit haven, nestled in the middle of nowhere. He grinned. Finally, some hot food and a comfortable sleep.

Hundreds of feet up in the night sky, a shape cast its silhouette across the light of the moon. It circled slowly back and forth, coming closer to the ground with every second. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the beast vanished into the maze of snow and dark.

"You could've very well been a goner!" A red-faced female gareca placed a heaping plate of spiced noodles, buttered toast, cheese and a glass of something pleasantly warm and sweet in front of Javen.
" I won't let a bit of measly snow stop me." Javen thanked the waitress, and dove into his dinner. After successfully stopping the fierce grumbles of his stomach, he sat back and thought. That's right…if I let anything stop me then this whole journey has been a waste. Blast this route; it's the only way for me to get to a city big enough to have engineered transportation. I never want to have to travel through this way again… At least the worst is over with…
After finishing his meal, Javen headed to the inn he had noticed nestled near the edge of the village. Its windows shone cheerfully, inviting travellers to rest comfortably for the night. Exhausted from his slow traversing of the forest, Javen reserved a room for the night. Javen headed directly for his small but warmly furnished room. His head had barely touched his pillow before he was sound asleep.

Javen woke up with a start. He searched under his pillow for the charm Isha gave him. He felt the hard coin and feathers and smiled. The earring was there too. He felt reassured. He frowned. What should I be reassured from? Why did I wake up anyway? He was startled by screech, and then a crash. Heat radiated from the wooden floor. Oh. He thought dumbly, still in the clutches of sleep. oh... in one single instant, he realized what was going on. He rolled of his bed, his bare feet touching the unbearably hot floor. But, since he was half-gareca, and gareca's have furry feet, it didn't bother him that much. He pulled on his boots and his shirt, gathered everything as fast as he could, and then ran downstairs.

It was a mess: fire licked the walls and tables. The ceiling had caved in at some parts and no one, absolutely no one,  was present. Or was there? A small little whimper was almost drowned out by the creaking of wood and the crackling of fire. Javen twisted around, trying to find the source of the sound. He saw movement at the corner of his eye to see a terata. A small one; eyes wide with terror, illuminated with the hungry flames that creeped closer to his hiding place. Javen found it was getting hard to breath. He coughed as a plume of smoke got in his face. He blinked his stinging eyes.
"Little one," he said hoarsely, coughing again as he inhaled dark smoke. The small terata started to cry; a horrible wailing sound. Javen crept closer towards the little one's hiding place.
"Closer," Javen beckoned, but the little terata didn't seem to know what to do. It was getting harder and harder to breath. Every breath was painful. Suddenly, a huge chunk of ceiling caved in near the little terata. Javen dove. He scooped up the little boy and ran for the nearest window. He pushed the terata out through the window frame, turned, and was about to turn back and head out when he was knocked down by a flaming beam. It hit the left side of his chest at full force and pain shot all through his body. His collision with the ground was painful, but after that-after that, there was nothing.

"Kokuro?" a voice shattered Kokuro's thoughts. He looked up and saw his friend Jaxith in the doorway. He smiled.
"Oh, hi Jax! How are you today?" Jax grinned.
"feeling a lot better. How about you?" Kokuro was going to answer, but instead of his response, the frail half-gareca went into a fit of painful coughing. When it was finished, he cleared his throat and smiled.
"I'm fine. Better than last week," Jax didn't look convinced, but didn't say anything as he sat down on the bed beside his friend.
"Dr. Puffin's coming by today. He couldn't yesterday because he was busy with a meeting of some sort," Kokuro's mouth twitched into a smile.
"That doesn't sound like a lot of fun," he mused. Jax gave a grin.
"ha, you can say that again," they were silent for a few minutes. Kokuro chuckled.
"I wish you could meet my brothers,"
"Oh?" Jax was lying on the bed, trying to peer out the window.
"Yes. I love them so much. I really want to see them again," Kokuro smiled fondly. The skin around his eyes crinkled, "Javen was always so positive, and he always tried not to mention my...sickness," his smiled flickered, but it was barely noticeable, "And dear Saerin is really the opposite. He was always so pessimistic. Even though for the most part he seemed horribly mean to everyone, I know he was just confused, and of course, he's always been cold anyway," Jax gave a crooked stare.
"Why would I want to meet someone who's cold?" Kokuro grinned.
"Aw, he's not that bad. But I think you'd like Isha the most. You two are alike. My younger sister...she's sweet," Jax grinned.
"Ha! Is she pretty?" his friend's face lit up like the sun.
"Of course she is!"
"Well, I'll meet her. Set a date for us," for that comment, he got a light blow to the shoulder.
"Don't judge my sister by her looks! If you do, I don't think you'd be alive after the first two minutes," Jax grinned. Kokuro smiled back. He turned out the window, hoping and wishing with all his power that he could see his family one last time. Then, he thought. Then, I can leave this place peacefully. His lips curved into a small smile. Peacefully...



Chapter 5

Javen heaved for breath, finding it extraordinarily hard to breath. He heard his laboured breathing as though from a far distance. It became louder as his head cleared, and then he was able to understand what was going on around him. A small warm hand clutched his own, and he grasped it weakly. It faintly reminded him of his sister. Isha... his eyes shot open. Everything a blur, it took some time for Javen to focus enough to realize the one holding his hand was a terata-child. His fur was brown with splotches of white, as though he was trying to paint, but painted himself instead. Javen smiled fleetingly.  
"Hello..." he said softly, still quite a bit disoriented.
"Hello," the terata mumbled shyly, "My name is Pavlos. I-I want to thank you for saving me..." he trailed off, ducking his head, visibly embarrassed. Javen smiled distantly.
"It's no problem..." I saved someone... he mused. As an afterthought, he asked the child if he was hurt. Pavlos shook his head vigorously.
"N-no!" he said, surprise in his voice, "but, Mr, you got hurt...I...I'm sorry," Javen frowned, confused.
"Um. What did I save you from?" his eyes fluttered closed.
"Um, from a fire...sir..." but Javen was asleep, and didn't hear the little terata's answer. Pavlos still grasped his hand. The child wondered why a gareca would save him, since the teratas and the garecas were at war. He found that he liked the color of his aura. He reached out with one of his hands and touched the wound on his saviour's chest. He could see the energy point near there, and so, with a little of the magic his mother taught him, he eased the pain a little. Javen shifted in his sleep. His muscles weren't as tense, the little terata decided. He squeezed the half-gareca's hand once more, and then hurried out of the little room.

He didn't wake up for quite a long time. At least a day after he went to sleep, he opened his eyes and felt much better. He tried sitting up, but when that proved too painful, he stuck with lying on his back and looking out the window. After a while, a terata came in his room. She had the same brown and white fur as Pavlos. This terata looked shaken, yet relieved.
"I'm terribly sorry for troubling you..." she said. Javen shook his head with a smile.
"Oh, no, it's fine. Are you Pavlos' mother?" she nodded.
"Yes. Thank you so much for saving him, even though you are a...gareca," Javen turned to catch her eye.
"Um, anyone probably would have done the same...um, but what did I save him from? What happened?" the terata woman sat down on the small bed.
"Well, since you don't remember...see, there was a fire at the inn you were staying-" he jolted, startled. A fire...it all came back to him. All of it.
"Is my backpack here? Did you see a charm and an earring?" the terata shook her head.
"No, I didn't see anything. But your backpack is right here," she reached down and picked up his bag. It was covered in ash and blackened by flames, but it was still intact. He was relieved.
"Thank you..." he murmured. He winced as he tried to reach for it; his muscles pulling painfully at his wound.
"Don't do that quite yet," the terata advised gently. She laid the backpack near the bed once again, "You have a really bad burn and a deep cut there. You're also bruised," Javen frowned.
"I can't stay here for long," he said with worry in his voice, "I need to get to my brother," the terata woman smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry, but your wound won't heal for a while yet. It's really bad. You'll have a very visible scar," Javen grimaced, and felt himself grow angry. His wound hurt horribly. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight. He felt the terata's hand on his chest and the pain eased a little. He gave a small smile, "Get some sleep," she said.
"Alright..." it didn't take much time for him to drift off. Before she even left the room, he was swept off into sleep.