Like Father, Like Daughter

[Suturi]

((6/19/2011))

A deeply tanned child squatted in the muddied banks of the stream, dipping long fingers into the chill waters. Fog lingered about both her and the stubbed plants along the shore. Tiny, ornamental wings were lifted, rigid, tense with excitement. Her long tail sharply tapered off into a harsh point, swishing in the dirt behind her. Visible, too, were the tri-colored scales gracing her back, tail and shoulders: black at the outmost extremities and shifting first to purple inward before finally culminating in a pure white at the spine. Slitted eyes, purple inflected-white, narrowed on the tiny slip of a fish in the water before her. The water slowly clouded grey where childish fingers dipped below the surface.

There was no brilliant way to describe what had happened, but he had followed his nose. At first it was just a feeling. By now it was a scent; too familiar to ignore, but more mysterious even than that. The trees lining the stream were ample cover, and instinct bid him to remain downwind.

Ribbons of grey silk slid through the water and flitted over the fish that held her attention. Gills flattened unnaturally where shadow ribbons whisper, grafting and sealing together. A hollow, soft and echoing whine came from the suddenly-drowning victim. She hissed, inching forward in her squat, murmuring incantations past her forked tongue. The fish was enveloped and gills reborn, though on its underside and near the tail. The sound faded as the fish began to breathe once more.

The Daemon stalked between the trees, watching the little thing work its magic; his magic... More importantly, Her magic. The magic he could never work. His eye flashed as it darted from her to the area around her, then back again. He stepped from the tree line and his tail lashed once through the grass; an announcement, perhaps, or more likely his impatience in wanting to examine this peculiar little thing.

She withdrew her fingers from the water and twisted her bare torso around; the newcomer had been noticed through the shift in air once he had made himself known. Her childish sense of security allowed her to regard him without fear or the start of surprise.

"Now it can breathe while it shits," she explained calmly. Then she smiled at him, an impish and almost dark smile, so pleased with her handiwork. Never mind the fish could have accomplished the feat before, she'd now changed the poor thing's physiology.

"I think you've phrased that just a little poorly." His index claw and thumb gathered up close together, leaving just a little space between them. "It's just a bit less savory than before."

She shrugged, and turned her focus once more to the water. The victim, the fish, was still within the vicinity. Her hand darted out and grasped the thing, drawing it from the water. Hand and shadows squeezed the gasping, flailing thing. They constricted until a little pop sounded and the fish fell from her hold in two pieces. "I'm just practicing." She stood slowly and watched the tall being in front of her.

[Suturi]

He seemed nonplussed by the fish's rather rude lack of cohesion. "Practicing what, exactly?"

"Fixing things," she answered. "I want to make things better and my magic lets me." There was that smile again. "Gramma said I'm good at it."

He crouched, taking in every little detail of the thing in front of him. "What are you?"

The smile grew to a grin, a proud expression that was only slightly creepy on her refined and delicate features. It faded, though, as she moved on to his second query. "I dunno; just me. What are you?"

"Unique." His head tilted. "I am unique." If it were possible, a vague smile could've been seen spreading beneath the mask. It would've been a little eerie to anyone other than this little girl, to say the least. "Do you spend much time with your Gramma?"

"Yup." Now standing, the tail lashed the air as they faced off. "Why are you unique?"

"Because nobody else could be me; not even if they tried." He winked at her, with the vaguest feeling that she'd get the feel of the meaning somehow. "What about you?"

"I dunno," she repeated. "Who are you," she asked, reengineering the angle of conversation.

"I'm me. And I don't know why I'm here." He responded easily, arms draping over his knees.

"Why are you here?" She remained standing, at ease, hands at her sides. Her head cocked left, though, in her study of him.

"Just... Found it. Found you, too."

"It took you a long time to get here." She turned once more and squatted before the stream, speaking behind her without looking at him.

"It took me a long time to want to." He sat down on the grassy edge of the bank, before things got too muddy.

"I've seen you before." The words were casual, friendly enough coming from the child.

"When?"

"A few times." Midnight ink soiled the water and she cupped a hand, scooping it up. The water was drizzled over a nearby plant - a moment later the plant remained structurally unchanged but was instead a deep black.

“Gramma was watching you. Why?"

"Because," he said, seemingly unphased, "she doesn't like that she can't control everything in her perfect little world." A moment, and a chuckle. "Or, more importantly..." His smile deepened severely, "That she can't control me."

[Suturi]

"I think she thinks she can through us." She shrugged and then sat fully in the mud. The muck squished around her as she settled in. Legs crossed and she looked over.

"I'm sure she does."

"I dunno. I snuck out to here.” Another subject change, perhaps? Or was she commenting on their current topic?

He snickered, and leaned back. “I’m sure she let you.”

“She wanted me to know you were alive. And that you weren't some horrid thing I'd want to kill. And that you'd be coming. And, I'm sure, she hoped in the corner of the black hole in her chest that I'd bring you back myself." His arms folded up behind his head. "I must admit, though, you are quite pretty."

"Why would you want to kill me?" She turned in the mud to face him square on.

"Just because, I'd venture to guess."

"Because I'm stronger than you? Because you're jealous of me?" She didn't quite mean "jealous;" rather, she meant envious - that she could do magics he couldn't. But she was too young to understand the differences in meaning and thus used the word she did know. He smirked.

"Oh, pretty girl... You're not stronger than me. You're just designed for something different. In fact, when you compare your abilities to mine in the realm of usefulness, you're hopelessly unsuited for anything." He sighed, sadly. "But you're certainly going to prove interesting. So I can't fault you for your imperfections." He smiled at her true, though. She was his girl indeed, right down to the narcissism.

"So I'm going to see you again?" She turned her head to the right, blinking slowly.

"If you're lucky. Maybe I'll even teach you how to do the things even She can't do that I can."

"If you want." She didn't seem so impressed by his offer.

He held out his hand, turned it palm up, and wreathed it in deep flames for just a few moments. "I might not want to. It's good to be the only one that does this, even when magic is locked out."

"What's your name? Gramma doesn't say it when she watches you." She paused, then continued. "Why do you smell like I know you?"

"Ecce dues fortiori me, qui veniens dominabitur michi."

"My name? She can't say it. She's not allowed to. You can just call me what Teshid does."

"If you don't, I'll still find out." She seemed so unconcerned about whether he would or not, and she seemed to be as matter-of-fact as someone who honestly believed it would be - the child had no bragging posture.

"You won't." Chip off the old cliché. He chuckled, though.

"Can you make Gramma let me live with Tes yet, Da?" Seamlessly she added the new information on what to call him.

"If I wanted to, I could. I don't, however, know if you're ready yet."

A frown turned her lips down and creased her forehead, "Why not?"

"Because I don't know everything," He considered for a moment and then crooked a finger to beckon her near.

Without uncrossing her legs, she leaned forward to bring her face much closer in anticipation of a secretive whisper - a little more than a few inches. Knees dug into the muck even as fingers did.

"If she lets you out again," he whispered it indeed, "I'll let you stay longer." He reached out with the pad of his index finger for her forehead. "And just to show you.. The few things of Hers I can do, I do the best." The finger touched her forehead, a single syllable in the dark language left the mask, and a series of runes exploded across her body.

Her inborn innocent self-confidence and assurance were lost for that brief moment with the unexpected end to the interview - her eyes widened into round saucers and a tiny gasp was elicited from her lips as the powers pulled her back to where she belonged. It was hard work to protect one’s children, sometimes; even when you didn't quite know just what you were protecting them from.

As he left the clearing, he pondered some things. She’d grown her quick, for one. She was unstable, for another. He would need to exercise more effort on her than he’d like, that much was certain.

Things were getting interesting.