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I'm Waking Up: Origin Stories.
You’re an old man who had a nasty run-in with Something That Went Bump in the Night, and once believed that the only way to make sure that you never had another problem like that again was to pick up a gun and shoot supes in the face before they killed you or hurt your family – and then some government shitheads called you up and told you that they’re your friends, you all have to get along. They took your weapons, sent you to some fucking program that felt too much like Alcoholics Anonymous. You hang up on them every time they check on you, but they still know exactly what you’re doing, every second of every day.
You’re a house wife in a quiet little town, accustomed to turning a blind eye towards the strange things that happened to people after dark because the local police either didn’t have a clue or were letting those things happen in the first place – and then some nice people in coats came in from God Knows Where, arrested some crooked cops, and made it all go away.
You make a new batch of cookies every Sunday, to give to the coated fellows who still hang around at the street corners downtown; some of them are young, so very young, and remind you of your younger brother. Your little ones want to be just like them someday.
You’re the kid who learns Judo rather than Track and Field after Math every day (Teacher Felipe says that you have to know how to defend yourself), then takes a quiz all about vampires, fairies and werewolves in Occult Studies. Every Wednesday, you tumble around with your classmates, and get mad whenever your best friend does his Superman thing and beats everyone to the top of the hill by flying there. Every Friday, a guy with more guns than you have teeth comes to school, takes over PE classes, and talks to everyone about what he does for a living. Sometimes, he takes “special kids” with him to another school, for special people like them. You hope that he won’t take your best friend away.
You’re the manager of one of the biggest call centers in the country. You’re happy because life’s been great ever since you opened your doors to the local vampire community. They’re damned good at their jobs, and you don’t have to deal with the HR nightmare of overtime, of medical bills and lawsuits anymore. And you feel safe, because you know that if one of them ever steps out of line, you know exactly who to call.
You’re the girl who leapt through time, who met a handsome stranger who took you to a fantastic place full of talking trees and flying fish, the girl who was loved and fucked and tossed aside when you started getting boring.
You came home and found that your house wasn’t your house anymore, that your parents have been dead for decades and all of your friends were old and gray while you haven’t aged at all.
They found you crying on a swing. They told you what happened, and helped you set things right.
You’re the drunkard at the local bar who sees monsters in every face, and still remembers what it was like years ago, when you didn’t have to be afraid of the dark, or wonder what’s beneath all the human skin and human smiles of every person you meet. The Truth fucked you up, you see. You wish that once upon a time, you had the better sense not to listen.
o r i g i n s t o r i e s.
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Rilea folded her hands behind her back and peered at the initiate in front of her. It was always going to please her, seeing the Awakened of the New Age and their dragons.
"How are you feeling now that the initiation is practically over?"
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It was true. He had come a long way from being that frightened boy whose Awakening to magic had been during the most traumatic experience in his life. And so much had happened to him, since then...
Casting a glance again at the lake, he examined his reflection as it stared back at him from those tranquil, glowing waters, as if to affirm him of who he was, now. Then, he faced Rilea again, his expression taking on a more pensive note. "A part of me is nervous, though..."
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"Why are you nervous?"
She could guess at the reasons, of course, but she was the kind of near-immortal being who liked to listen before doing anything else, or thinking anything else. Why bother living long if you were only going to be judgmental, or try to play God?
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It takes him a moment (as well as an encouraging nudge to his leg from Temeraire) to get his bearings again and reply. "I guess it's because of how big a responsibility being a Keeper of the Vigil is", the words come out soft, but clear as he continues. "Things might not be as fine as they are, now, if hunters like us weren't around the keep the peace. But there is still so much to be done out there, and I want to do my part... I just don't want my work as a hunter to be for nothing..."
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Rilea paused there for a moment, and turned towards the Dragon's Pool. It was a quiet night already, and things were even more quiet in the place they were in now. It was almost as if the Leviathan division wasn't there at all.
"And how would you define 'doing your part'?"
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For the moment, it seemed that none were hatching around this time (though if he looked long enough, he might catch a few that would). Gray, however, opts to glance again at Rilea.
"Helping people, giving them a chance to get back up from their lowest points", he replies, and his tone becomes more introspective. "Making a real difference in their lives so they'd be better off, and that maybe - just maybe - they won't have to deal with the pain of losing loved ones too soon..."
In his mind, he's thirteen again, and powerless to do anything as men and women in masks dragged aside people - men, women, elderly, and children - to condemn them to slow and painful deaths just to send a message. He could hear their terrified screams as they were put through unimaginable torments, picture their broken forms as their captors carried them away, destined to be dumped somewhere in a city where they would eventually be found.
"They'll find us, hermano. Just... just don't give up. Don't give up, now. We'll get out of here alive. I know it."
And he remembers Jaime Salazar, his best friend, the one who had stayed hopeful for the both of them throughout that ordeal. The one who fought to keep him from being among the latest batch of victims, and ended up being riddled with bullets for his efforts...
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When she speaks, she speaks not just to find answers, but to silence the whispers around them both, ones that only she is aware of.
"Is it more about helping those in need, or about not ever wanting to feel powerless again?"
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At her next question, though, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else behind her words.
"Both, ma'am..." he answered in a quiet, and firm tone. "I don't ever want to feel like I can't stop what happened to me from happening to anyone else. And I'll never stand by and do nothing while people around me are suffering. If I can do something, do everything I can, to help them even in a small way... then at least I won't have to live my entire life with too many regrets".
Or die with too many of them....
Gray wasn't going to lie to himself. There was always a chance that he might get killed at some point in upholding the Vigil. But everything has its time, and everything dies. It's what a person did with the time he has that makes his whole life worthwhile.
And whether he lived to see the coming centuries or not, Gray was never going to take his time for granted.
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Acanthus Mages with actual resolve were admittedly uncommon. At the risk of sounding unkind, Rilea had seen too many of the followers of the Lunargent Thorn make promises that they never ended up keeping.
Granted, it was already a big thing that Gray had gone through Hunter school and actually completed his initiation. Still: inquiring minds needed to know. That was the purpose of this entire exercise, wasn't it? That was why a conversation with a King was always the last step.
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If there was one thing about him that Awakening to the Path of the Thistle hadn't changed (and, perhaps, it had instead reinforced), it was that strong sense of commitment and loyalty that was instilled in him growing up.
He had made his choice, and it had - in a way - cut away someone who meant a great deal in his life.
Papa...
They hadn't spoken to one another in years, not since that last fight between them. Now, he could only hope that his father might somehow come to terms with his decisions. And if he never did... well, at least he had kept hoping for the best.
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Her tone is gentler at that point, and her smile might seem a little sad. Liberty's Belle has had firsthand experience only too many times of thinking that absolutes make everything what they are, and being proven wrong in the most painful ways.
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Gray's gaze didn't waver, now, as he regarded Rilea. A hunter's life was anything but easy, and things would only get harder for him past this point.
"... but that's why we have our blademates, so that we never walk alone.. and that we never lose sight of ourselves thanks to the people who always have your back".
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Her smile brightens once more. The most important questions have already been answered. She has measured this boy, and found that he does not leave her filled with doubt.
"It's a good thing that you'll continue to be stationed here at Falner. This place is busier than ever, and there are better chances of you finding people who suit you here than anywhere else."
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"Then, I guess I should start looking as soon as I can... In-between moving out of the dorms, finding a new place to stay, and settling in with my division of choice at Netsach, of course".
He had more than enough time for that, though. Right now, Gray was more than content with just standing by the lake's edge, and letting his gaze settle again on those glowing waters.
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"Life is only life if it's busy as hell, right?"