1x1 -- Sarish and Stormy

[stormy tom]

Training. Carter was insisting. Chihaya was taking his other arm and gently leading him to the grounds for some practice. It would help him clear his head, help him think, help him to recover. How could anyone recover from that?

How could training fulfill that? It felt so meaningless. Punch. Block. Turn, punch again. Block again. Too slow, take a hit. A hit that felt like... well it felt like nothing. It was numb. Nothing at all. It might as well have never happened.

And he was falling, falling down. Too heavy to balance himself like he usually would. Falling under a broken leg and a broken heart adding more weight than his already limp body was providing. Smashing down to the dust. Not even trying to get up. Why? Why... he was so tired. Cold. Even though there was sun on him. Beating down, warming the ground and the air. Beating right down onto his body damp with sweat from training.

And the air was heavy. It must be, because it was near impossible to breathe.

--

And Carter was pulling back because he hadn't meant to punch James hard enough to fell him like a tree. He'd thought his friend would block. But down James went. Thud. Then nothing. He just lay there panting. It was by no means a hard blow.

Chihaya responded first, hurrying over from her place of observation and kneeling beside James, pushing hair from his face and feeling his forehead, searching with her powers for a sign of physical damage. Just the residual pain from the punch, a bruise. That was all. Physically, he was as healthy as usual. There was no lung congestion, no fever, no signs of illness. But his skin was frigid. Some people naturally had cold hands, but this... this was beyond natural. And James was shivering, shaking from more than the shock of sudden loss and the depths of betrayal.

"Sweetheart..." Chihaya prompted, trying to get James to roll over. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

And James did not respond, he just wrapped his arms tighter around his body, curling away from touch as if it were causing him physical pain, shaking his head. No. He was not alright. Sarish was dead. And he just didn't know what to do with that. That on top of everything that had happened? Right back to opening that first box, to the hockey game, then the confrontation between him and his best friend not twenty four hours ago. It was all too much. Too much at once.

"Carter," Chihaya said with rising urgency. "I think we should put this on pause. Go boil the kettle would you? Perhaps alert Master Nirmal that we're coming." And Carter nodded, rushing off.

Slowly, the old woman coaxed James to sit, to stand, to walk very slowly back inside the monastery. And she took him through the hallways, speaking quietly to him as she guided him to the infirmary. "I think it would be best if you tried to get some rest," she offered. "I'll make you some sedative. Don't worry, James, there will be no bad dreams to find you tonight. Have some tea, and I'll get you some blankets."

And she made sure he was sitting on an empty futon before she brought him a stack of blanket. Carter entered with a tea tray, and finally managed to get James to actually drink some while his master wrapped the blankets around his shivering body. Then she offered him the sedative, and he was asleep.

"I've never seen shock affect someone like that," Chihaya pulled Carter aside, worry etched into her face. "There is nothing wrong with him, Carter. No illness, no injury. His body is functioning as it should. Yet... he is definitely ill. Will you watch him for me? Perhaps some physical contact from a friend will help him feel better. The human body is a strange thing, but not nearly as strange as the mind."

"Just... will he be okay?" Carter pursued. He had to know. There was dread in his face too. Because he knew this was his fault. His fault his friends thought Sarish was dead. His fault they were suffering. But he would have to bear it. That was his burden, his responsibility. He had promised Sarish.

"I don't know," Chihaya replied sincerely. "I do not know."

--

When James awoke he felt... groggy. Carter was there to greet him, to help him stand and bring him to the mess hall for some supper. A bit of hot food would help him feel better. Carter brought James his sweater, tugged a blanket across his friend's shoulders, watched him eat painfully slowly. And Chihaya puzzled over her texts and medicines, because she was a healer. She knew plant-based medicine like she knew her own soul. Perhaps just rest would be enough. Rest and good company. Sometimes just a little love was the best medicine, and Heaven only knew how much love James needed.

And the longer Carter watched his friend struggle through a bowl of rice in silence, the more guilt he felt crawling into his stomach, filling him up and removing his appetite. James did not speak a word, though Carter muttered softly to him. Like a mother to a child. "Come on, James finish it. Please. You'll feel better. Even just a little better, I promise. Then you can go back to sleep. Master Chihaya will mix you some medicine, and you'll sleep soundly."

Carter did not know where exactly he had gone wrong, or what he should have done differently, but this was not right.

James was not right.

Nothing was right.

[Sarish]

Sanjay went straight to the Head Master's study, Kareena a silent presence at his side. He didn't bother knocking, walking right into the room. The older master looked up, obviously unaware if the way he started to greet them said anything. Sanjay interrupted him without pause for thought and relayed the news numbly. It was as close to surprised as he had ever seen the Head Master, though his face didn't show it. His alter stopped what it was doing to stare at the two of them somberly.

"You are certain?"

"Carter's dream about James came true. Mostly, anyway; it happened but James did not die," and that just hurt Sanjay all the further because that meant that Sarish hadn't had to die. They could have stopped him, saved him... why had Carter had the dream the night of? Had he dreamed of it as it was happening? Kareena took one of his shaking hands in hers, trying to convey that she was there for her master.

"And you are sure that he is not simply at this other village helping?"

"The dream..." Sanjay blinked. Denial had not come yet, but it was threatening to now. "With no outside intervention he would have died. He did..." didn't he?

"And I suppose we have heard no further word of an incident... perhaps the traveler was so shocked by his death that he could not bring himself to come back and explain... did not think that anyone would figure what had happened and who had been involved. Was it intentional? A murder?"

"N-no... Carter said that he had just fallen. But m-maybe, maybe he's not... maybe he's waiting for help, maybe..."

"Sanjay," the Head Master said solemnly. "Don't do this. Are you planning to go speak to his family?"

"Y-yes, but--"

"Then use your powers and search for him on the way there. If the dream was truly a premonition, and there were no external factors to alter the circumstances, then there is nothing that we can do. But why don't you wait a few hours until midday? It'll be safer--"

Sanjay stood and turned and left without another word. There was nothing to say and no time to waste. He almost wanted to stop for a moment and talk to someone. Talk about what? Talk to who? The person he would usually talk to was dead. His best friend. The one who had stood by him for all of these years, through thick and thin. Dead. Gone. He'd never see him again.

James. He thought that maybe he should talk to James. And say what? What could he possibly say? What would James say? Sanjay knew that was a terrible idea. He could feel the anger twisting in his chest. He was looking for someone to blame, anyone. There was a good chance that James was the last person who had seen Sarish. How could... no, no, it wasn't anyone's fault. It had just happened. But Sanjay couldn't talk to James. Not yet. Not until... no.

He went straight to the storage closet and pulled on a jacket and boots and gloves. Kareena had followed him and was putting her own gear on. "You shouldn't come with me," he murmured. She did not respond and did not stop getting ready. Up the mountain first. To Sarish's family. Searching for him with powers on the way there. Just in case. Most times there was a ghost of thought that lingered at the place of death, but sometimes it faded immediately and sometimes it stayed for a long time. There might be nothing. There might be something. Sanjay wasn't sure what was better. If Sarish was alive... if he had fallen but survived... would they be able to save him? How high was the cliff, what was the terrain like...?

Kareena touched his shoulder. He had frozen, had started shaking again. Sanjay straightened. One at a time. Search for Sarish. Tell his family. Back down the mountain to Kathmandu, tell Basanta. Yell in the man's face because if he had just stayed... if Basanta had just stayed...

Sanjay drew himself up and left with Kareena trailing behind. He didn't want to hear the sighs of relief when the rest of the monastery learned that Sarish was dead. He didn't want to hear the celebration. They're gone! Both apprentice and master, Dustin and Sarish! They won't ever come back, they won't ever cause trouble and havoc and violence and death ever again!

Sanjay didn't want to hear it. Out of the monastery, down the steps, down the path. He immediately called upon his powers, completely ignoring his exhaustion and weakness. He would not stop, he would not slow. Sarish never had, Sarish had never taken a rest. Sanjay wouldn't either.

There was so much residual thought nearby that the master stopped dead in his tracks, Kareena running into him. He turned. The maple tree. The thoughts weren't solid enough to actually read, they never were unless a person was actively thinking them, but he could feel the general mood. It was as close as he could get to Sarish's powers. Fear. Terror. Desperation. Acceptance. Determination. that was confusing. Sanjay couldn't determine who the thoughts had come from. He had no idea how many people had been here, though Carter had said just two. Just the traveler and Sarish. But the thoughts were so strong. If the person had been that desperate... it was no wonder Sarish had just picked up and left with them.

Not now. Not now. he could drown in his sorrows later. Later. Sanjay turned and kept moving down the path.

---

Master Nirmal found Chihaya alone in the infirmary. He had been alerted that something was wrong with James and that he should talk to Chihaya. He offered a mumbled greeting, having been up and in the library for most of the previous night. "I heard something's off with James. Why did someone not come to alert me sooner? Is there something I can do to help?" he wasn't sure what was going on. The air in the monastery was... different today.

---

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes."

"I missed you. I told you that I would never leave. Not forever. I would never leave you alone. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes."

"I just wanted to help. I just want to help. But I know you don't want help, I know you don't like being weak. That's alright. But I need your help, Sarish. I've been suffering... what you did to me... what they did to my memories. But you... you saved me."

Yes.

"How? Why?"

I don't know.

"Don't you see, Sarish? Don't you see that this was how it was always meant to be? Me and you against the world. Nobody would ever care as much as I do. They'd leave you for dead."

It's not true. It's not true. That's why I'm here and that's why Carter had to lie.

Dustin was talking and talking, breaking down his barriers. Worming his way back in. He wasn't aware that he had never left. His voice, his voice... Sarish flinched every time he talked. How? How could this he real? How could any of this be real? But the pain, his chest, his ribs, his back... his lip. He had no defense against Dustin. He was helpless. He was so scared. So...

Happy. How could he be happy? How despicable was he? How weak, how abhorrent. Missing this murderer. Missing this horrible person. This horrible person who was still a person. Still a human. Still cared. His eyes said so, his tone claimed as much. How? How? After everything, after all this time... Sarish was still crawling back to him. And he was happy.

No.

No.

This wasn't right, it wasn't okay, he knew that. He knew that! This wasn't... he didn't want this, he couldn't...

If they had waited just a few days longer to return to the monastery, they would have arrived to find... people hurt, people dead, fear and sadness reigning over all. A difference of a few days. It was sobering to think about. But they hadn't, and now everything was okay. Everyone was safe. Everything would turn out alright.

For the monastery. It was better this way. This was necessary. Even Canada had been necessary, now that he really thought about it. It was necessary because otherwise Sarish would have been banished, his powers and alter sealed away. Dustin would arrived to find him gone, and he would have flown into a rage. Canada was necessary because at least Sarish knew a few things now. At least he could read a bit better, had a slightly better grasp of culture. Canadian culture, anyway. He wouldn't be stricken by pain when he went back. It was all so soon... the monastery's powers hadn't even settled in his back. He had been in Kathmandu just a few days ago...

All of it had been necessary. Sarish's breaths wheezed. Dustin had gone to get breakfast, but the monk hadn't wanted anything. The American frowned so deeply that it felt like a blow. The wolf had stayed, watching, watching. His soul had not said a word. It was desperately grasping onto the last straws of hope, but its grip was slipping. Sarish had already given up. That didn't mean he wasn't terrified.

Dustin returned. He set a plate on the monk's bed, and Sarish turned his head groggily to look at it. A blueberry muffin.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He needed to run. He was so scared. He didn't want to run. He was safe, Dustin was safety, familiarity. He had waited for so long, had denied that he had missed him for so long, and now he was here.

This wasn't real. There was no way.

"Eat," Dustin commanded, watching him, face carefully blank. Sarish couldn't. He hadn't eaten for so long, but his stomach was threatning him if he so much as touched the muffin. "Eat."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. What the hell, Sarish. You said you'd come back willingly."

"I am."

"What, are you going to starve yourself?" Dustin rose from his bed, moving towards him. Sarish flinched, closing his eyes. I can't, I can't, please... a gentle hand settled on his forehead. "You need to eat, please," so, so gentle. Sarish opened his eyes, gazing up at Dustin. The American looked worried. It was so confusing, his mood changed so quickly, always so quickly... "How about crackers? Will you eat if I bring you crackers?"

"Y-yes."

"Alright, then. Stay put," and then he was gone. Sarish stared at the muffin. The wolf stared at him. Dustin didn't not stay away for long, returning with a packet of crackers and water. All of it was ash in the monk's mouth, but he forced it all down. Dustin seemed happier with him.

Eventually he had to get up. They had to leave soon. Paperwork... all of it flew by in a haze. The wolf disappeared at some point. Sarish came back to himself as they walked into the airport. The same airport. His hands started trembling. Through the gates, into the waiting area. His throat closed up, his chest tightened, his breaths short. Dustin was trying to talk to him, but his voice was just making everything worse.

I can't. Please. Help me, help... go away, please, just go, I can't...

Dustin pressed some pills into his hand, a bottle of water. Sarish didn't know what it was. He didn't ask. He swallowed the pills and trembled and trembled. There, they were getting on the plane. The panic was rising up higher, but his brain was slowing. Dustin guided him into a seat and he was asleep within seconds.

The American huffed. He had purposefully gotten the monk a window seat so that he was as far from the aisle as possible. He despised flying coach, but he could deal with it just this once. He had already spent enough money on this trip, and while all of this was less than a drop in the ocean, he still hated to go over his quota. 'You'll love it, Master,' he had said earlier, though he hadn't been sure if Sarish was listening. 'I've got a mansion, you know. Vacation homes, but we won't be going there any time soon. The mansion is about two hours away from New York City. The commute is hell, but worth it. It's in the country. It's beautiful, there is so much land. You'll love it. Just wait.'

Dustin had let Lillian know that they were on their way back. 'She'll be staying with us while you train us. You'll meet her soon. She's brilliant.' Oh yes. It was all coming together. Dustin settled in his seat, forcing his gaze away from the man he'd thought he'd never see again, closing his eyes as he waited. Soon. Soon.

[stormy tom]

Chihaya dug out her dustiest books as Nirmal approached, flipping through page after worn page of ancient Kanji. "Yes, something is very wrong with James, yet I cannot place my finger on the cause," she explained. "I have reached out with my powers and he is in good physical condition. He does not bear any illness, yet... he is sick. One look is all I need to decide that, powers or not..."
Right, Nirmal didn't know.

Chihaya slowed to a stop and closed her book, turning to face the other healer. A brother. A younger brother whom she felt responsible for. Just like everyone here. She felt responsible for all of them. Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, they were all part of her family. And she had just lost a son.

"Sarish is dead," she explained. "James did not look too well before, but the news did him no good. Sarish is gone, and I do not believe that James caneasily recover from this. You know how close they were..." The old woman sighed and closed her eyes as she shook her head. A son was gone, so suddenly, not like anyone would have expected either.

But now it appeared they had another problem on their hands. Chihaya could feel urgency in the air. The sooner she sorted James out, the better. Focus on the living, and let the dead rest. Who exactly had always said that...? Her former apprentice. Her dead apprentice. Yes, focus on the living, and let the dead rest, but learn from them. Mourn, yes. Yes of course. And mourne she would, with everyone else. Together.

But right now?

"Nirmal, if nothing his wrong with his body..." Chihaya looked at her books. She stared at them. No, let his body be sick. Because she could heal the body. So could Nirmal. But this... "Then it must be his soul."

And everything made sense. His cold skin, the way he gripped his chest like it hurt. And she knew what his soul looked like, scarred. Bleeding. Sarish's death would certainly not help that.

But could she fix that? "Damn," she growled in a sudden moment of aggression, reaching into her small but substantial bookshelf once again to dig out her oldest books. It was a large one, and as dusty as an Egyptian tomb. "I'm a body doctor, not a soul doctor," she shook her head, opening the book to the first page. But this once she would have to be. "Nirmal, I do hope you have some experience under your belt that I do not, because in all my years I have never encountered a sick soul. Let us hope that this is not the diagnosis, but if it is, then I pray that you and I will be enough."

--

Indeed. A genius. An underappreciated genius. Until Dustin swept her away from her boring life and offered her something that was like chocolate to dust. The things she was learning to do...

Lillian paced the mansion slowly, pulling her long blonde hair back into a ponytail, slender yet strong body prancing around the mansion's decorations. She was interested. Who was Dustin bringing back for her? Well, not for her. For him. Always for him. But that was fine. Lillian didn't care if he wanted to build the world into a castle, or destroy it to rubble. She didn't care if he wanted to sit by and watch it slowly burn itself to the ground. So long as he continued to give her that taste of something greater, she didn't care if he sacrificed princesses to a volcano in his spare time.

He did what he wanted. She could respect that.

So she prepared him a respectable scene to return to. Lillian secured the buttons of her pressed white collared shirt and adjusted her black jacket. She had seen many expensive homes, many extravagant buildings, spoken to many rich collectors. This was by no means her first adventure into someone's upmarket home. But still, it was impressive. She liked it.

Yet what she liked more was the idea of what Dustin was bringing her, and what more she could learn of her growing powers. Life was good.

It was very good.

[Sarish]

Nirmal blinked, lifting an eyebrow. Sarish was dead? He hadn't even been aware that the two were back, not until he heard that something was wrong with James. Did he pass away in Canada? Or just now? it wasn't important, obviously... still. "I'm sorry to hear that," and he was. Nirmal tended to remove himself from others for professionalism purposes, but he had seen Sarish around a lot, especially when he was younger and he himself had just gotten his healing powers. The young man had done a lot of... questionable things, but Nirmal wasn't sure all of the prejudice was terribly necessary. Anyone who had looked at him could tell that he hadn't gotten away unscathed. Ah, well, none of that mattered now.

"Hmm, yes, they were close... if you can't detect any physical issues with James, then that is the only other possibility that I can think of," Nirmal affirmed, grim as he tried to consider what this could mean. A sick soul... hopefully it was just sick and not dying. But to think of a soul that damaged that it was tearing itself apart... it wasn't unheard of, but it was terribly rare. Nirmal had heard of instances where a person's soul had become so weak that both alter and vessel died... but he had never heard of a success story. To have a dying soul... it was supposed to be the worst kind of death possible, save for the instances in which the soul survived but the vessel did not. To his knowledge the opposite had never happened.

But what could they do for a sick soul? "I suppose... if we could get James to summon his alter we could take a look. I've never tried to use my powers to heal a soul, but it might be worth a shot. The only other person I can think of that can help..." is Sarish. And Sarish was dead. Wounds on souls were emotional, and Sarish had been the one who had power over emotions. What they needed was Sarish. And Sarish was dead. "Well... I suppose the Head Master. Nobody here has power over the soul," that was unheard of. To be able to manipulate someone's very soul? That was a terrifying thought indeed. "The Head Master has a copy of Master Sarish's power, yes? He might be able to help, then. I am sure he would be willing to help. This might have to be more trial-and-error than anything. Sanjay might be able to assist with his own powers somehow..." possibly.

"We need to figure out why exactly his soul is so weak, so sick. Those issues need to be fixed or mitigated. I am supposing that Master Sarish's death was not the only reason for his soul's decline? He needs to be willing to seek help. He needs people to talk to, to help him. I do not know how dire his condition is, or how much drive he has to keep fighting, but if he gives up then there is nothing we can do for him. Well, I suppose these are all assumptions, but souls can be surprisingly logical beings sometimes. But I don't truly know," Nirmal admitted. "This isn't exactly a common ailment, and a sickness of the soul is not something easily understood."

Another thought occurred to him, and he decided that they should gather as much knowledge as they could. "Master Sarish's powers... I have heard rumors that they are addicting. Were addicting. Like a drug. You would know better than me; is this true? If James is suffering from a sort of withdrawal..." oh, that wasn't quite what he had meant. Nirmal did not have a good bedside manner, but he was trying. At least he could notice when he fumbled. "My apologies. I don't mean to imply that that is the only reason, or that either Master Sarish or James are at fault, but it would be beneficial to know," any information they could confirm for sure was necessary. Nirmal steeled himself mentally. This would be a challenge, for sure.

---

Sarish did not wake screaming this time. That didn't stop him from jolting awake, immediately stifling a pained groan because everything still hurt. His gaze was fixed on a world that was moving past, past a pane of glass. His breath hitched. Oh, a car, he was in a car. A very... long car. He lifted his head from where it had been reclined against the headrest, blinking at Dustin, who sat across from him. Oh, this was a very strange car indeed... a glance to his right confirmed that there was something there; the wolf. He had no idea where he was, how he had gotten here... panic rose up in his throat. The wolf shuffled closer, nudging its hand under his hand until he finally started stroking its head shakily. It gaze up at him calmly, leaning into his touch like a cat. The panic filtered away and he just felt empty again.

"We're in America," Dustin confirmed, watching him impassively. "It's hellish to try to get an unconscious foreigner clear to enter the country... you're lucky that you're with me."

Lucky.

"We're in New York. You slept through everything, though I'm sure that was easier. How do you feel?"

Sarish looked away from the piercing eyes of the wolf.

"Oh no. No. Don't start this with me, Sarish," Dustin growled. "No lies. No secrets. Not with me. You know how that works. I won't try to help if you don't want me to, but no lies," he leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers. He looked professional despite his casual outfit. Dustin hated casual attire, Sarish knew. "Let's start simple. My name is..."

"Dustin."

"And your name is..."

"Sarish."

"And we are in...?"

"A car. In New York. In America," Sarish swallowed, looking anywhere but Dustin and the wolf.

"Very good. Now, where are we going?"

"To your house. The mansion."

"Yes, good. Alright. What is the name of the woman that you will be teaching alongside me?" Sarish paused. He didn't know that one. Something flashed in Dustin's eyes, but the monk wasn't looking at him.

"Oh honestly, Sarish. I already told you this," the other frowned faintly, anxious because he didn't remember. He really didn't...

"Lillian," Dustin shook his head, countenance displaying worry now. "You don't remember? I told you about her." Sarish frowned, frowned because he didn't remember, he didn't remember at all... "That's okay," the American continued, softer now. "What's today? I told you this morning. What day of the week is it?" Oh, Sarish knew this one.

"Thursday."

Dustin sighed. "No, Sarish. Today is Friday," the monk's gaze shot up to meet his.

"A..." the words were coming out before he could stop them, before he could shut up because Dustin didn't like to be questioned, but he had said this morning, he had said that it was important to know what day of the week it was, and he remembered that today was Thursday, it was... "A-are you sure?" and then he realized what he had said and lifted his hand from the wolf like he was afraid it might bite him, lowering his gaze immediately.

No harsh words awaited him. Dustin picked his phone up from where it had rested facedown on his thigh, turning the screen on and gesturing for Sarish to catch it. He raised his hands and nearly missed it because they were in a car, but caught it after a moment of fumbling. He peered at the screen intently. "Fr... Frid... ay. Friday." It was Friday. How was it Friday? It was Thursday...

"It's alright, Sarish, don't worry about it. I'm sure you're just a little confused. No, keep it there for now," Dustin shook his head as the monk made to toss the phone back. "Don't worry. We'll be there soon. It's fairly late, but not so late that we can't have dinner before we get you settled in a room. Yours will be on the ground floor so that you won't have to worry about stairs... oh, and we'll need to have a talk about your back later," Dustin continued, and a flicker of fear shot through the monk.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no. He doesn't know about the surgery... how do I... how do I pass that off... can I...? Dustin couldn't know about James. No. Never. He'd have to make up an excuse, he'd have to figure out a way to explain why his back was better... comparably, at least. How much power was in this land? Oh, oh no, oh no...

The car was slowing. Sarish's gaze was drawn back out the window. The land here was mostly flat, green, and there were trees placed almost strategically on either side of the road... the sun was low in the sky, visible on the horizon. It would not be visible at this height in the mountains because of the obstructions... but there it was. And now they were stopping. Dustin made no move to get up, and they waited for a few silent moments before the car started moving again. Oh. There was a gate. A gate around this place. Like a cage...

The car rolled to a halt again, and this time Dustin did rise, the wolf standing and stepping from its seat onto the floor. A door was opened by someone Sarish did not recognize and the American gestured for him to get out first. He moved slowly, carefully, wincing as he unbuckled and moved towards the open door, handing Dustin his phone stepping down onto the paved driveway. And oh, wasn't he treated to a sight?

There was the mansion. It was massive. It might be as big as the monastery, though it was hard to tell based on staging and location and shape... but it was enormous. Most of it seemed to be made out of stone, windows placed liberally, though most of them were blocked by drapes. The entryway was huge, grand, a fountain poised in the middle of a circular driveway. Sarish turned to glance at where they had come from; the driveway was long, the trees trimmed to perfection and all of the same species. And the land, or what he could see of it, was liberal and green and mostly flat. And the car... the car was strange and long and black. It was all so... Dustin. Neat, clean, orderly. Grand and not afraid to boast it, but it was also... quiet. Peaceful, but a peacefulness achieved from perfection and order. It was so much. Too much.

America. I'm in America. After all of this time... after all of the death and pain and worry and heartache and sadness... I'm finally...

Sarish didn't know how to feel.

Dustin stepped out behind him, one hand settling on the smaller man's shoulder. The latter jumped despite himself. "Do you like it?"

"I don't know."

"Fair enough. You'll be able to appreciate it more once you see it in the daylight. Not to mention everything it holds... you'll be happy here. I know that you are more of a 'traditional monk' and aren't caught up on material goods... but oh, you'll love it. A full library and study, rooms that I have no use for... you could have a whole section of the mansion to yourself. It's so large that there is no way that your claustrophobia could possibly bother you. Just wait and see. You'll love it. There's a koi pond in the back that I had put in recently. There's even a tree that you might like..."

Sarish didn't respond. Dustin said something to the driver, who tipped his shiny black hat before the car started moving, circling the fountain before driving back the way they had come. Through the gate. The gate. "Come along, then. You can have all the time to admire all of this later, right? We've got plenty of time," he steered the monk towards the grand, dark wooden doors, pushing one open and holding it for the other man.

Sarish blinked as he stepped into the entryway. And then he blinked again. The floors were a grayish-white, marble. The second floor was clearly visible, two staircases on either side converging and becoming one... it was so clean and crisp and proper. Sarish knew that he must stick out like a sore thumb.

"I've got maids who will come and clean the place," Dustin continued leisurely, shrugging his light jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over his arm. "I tried to have people who stayed full time, along with a cook... but it bothered me. I'd rather not have to deal with all of that noise," Sarish frowned. 'All of that noise'? What did that mean? Were maids that noisy? "But Lillian lives here, of course. It's just the three of us who will be here full-time. You'll see the maids around sometimes. Don't bother them; just let them get on with their work."

Sarish nodded mutely.

"Well, I suppose the first order of business will be to go meet Lillian," and then the wolf was sniffing, trotting away through the halls. Dustin nudged his chin at his soul, and Sarish took that as a direction to follow. So he did, Dustin close at his heels. And oh, there was another person. The wolf was peering up at her, sitting. Dustin straightened slightly and approached her. "Lillian," he greeted. "Everything went smoothly, as you can see. This is Master Sarish. He is the one who taught me everything I know. He will not disappoint."

Oh, that was his cue. Sarish offered a slight bow, looking down at the ground instead of at Lillian.

"Rude, Master," Dustin scolded. "Look at a person when you are greeting them," so Sarish forced his gaze up, up, feeling his mask slip into place as he offered a slightly weak but kind smile.

"Hello. It is very nice to meet you. I am Sarish."

"Master Sarish," Dustin countered.

"Sarish is just fine, please--"

"Master Sarish," he repeated, his tone hinting a warning. The monk acquiesced.

Goodness... goodness... America. He was in America. It was done. He was here. There would be no escape. He still couldn't decide if he truly wanted to. So he kept that gentle smile in place, numb.

[stormy tom]

Chihaya nodded slowly, glad to have someone calm and level-headed to address this with her. "Yes, yes we should try everything we can." And she flipped through the pages of her massive book, searching for something... this book was hundreds -- probably thousands -- of years old. There had to be something about treating soul sickness in here.

She turned her head at a sound to see Carter returning with James.

"Carter," Chihaya began. "We're going to have to see his soul. Do you think you can get him to summon it?"

"I'll try," Carter nodded as James lay down on his side and curled in on himself tightly.

"Good, I'm going to see what else I can find in my book," Chihaya replied.

Carter nodded and returned to James. "Hey," he gave his friend's shoulder a shake. "Hey James, think you can summon your soul for us?" James shook his head. "Just try. Come on. Please." And James closed his eyes, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to obey, but his lion would not be coaxed. "Master, it's not working, he can't do it."

"Very well," Chihaya replied, pacing over and kneeling beside James. He pulled him onto his back and took his face. She would have to use some ancient knowledge from her book. "James, I'm going to fetch your soul for you. Will you allow me to do this? Will your soul allow me to do this? Just relax and let me do the work, alright?"

And James nodded, closing his eyes. Chihaya then reached for her own soul, a gentle blue glow surrounding her as she dug up enough energy to summon two souls. Then her constrictor erupted from her chest and into James', feeding in and in until it was gone. An a little life returned to James' eyes as they shot open and he could breathe a little easier, some warmth returning to his skin. Then the snake returned, wrapped securely around the lion, which it pulled out with it, solid. It was tiring, but Chihaya pushed on, watching James fall back as both souls left his body.

And there was the cold, hard evidence. The lion, fur matted with blood. An extra wound ripped across the already multi-layered wound of loneliness, and the wound on its chest had gained another layer too. It lay there on the floor bleeding, huge chest sucking in shallow and shaky breaths, eyes open just a sliver. Was there any fur under all those scars and blood?

"I think that answers our question," Chihaya whispered, watching her snake carefully coil around and under the lion, resting its head against the previously luscious mane. Old wounds were freshly opened, new ones added on top. It was not sick. It was dying.

"What do we do?" Carter offered, voice shaky, face pale as he watched James turn back onto his side and wrap himself more tightly than before into a ball. "H-how do you even fix that?"

"I'm not sure," Chihaya sighed. "But we'll just have to try anything we can think of and hope it works. Has he said anything to you?"

"A-a little..." Carter swallowed, on the verge of tears. "H-he told me... he told me some things that happened in Canada."

"Try to keep him warm. The soul is dying, but it is still affecting his body. And if we can help his body we can perhaps give us some more time to solve this." Chihaya turned to her book. James looked like he might not be able to follow Carter to the mess hall for very much longer already. "Nirmal, I'm going to see what else I can find in this book. Do what you can for him."

--

And there was Dustin and the wolf, returned as promised with Sarish. The master who would show her how to properly use her powers.

"Honestly, I'm glad you aren't this patronizing with me," Lillian walked to the door to greet them. "Pleasure to meet you, Master Sarish. I won't disappoint either." It seemed both of them were a long way from home. For Sarish, Nepal. For her, England. Though it would be a cultural shock for Sarish, not for her. Lillian had done plenty of travelling, and was not easily fazed. Though, Sarish seemed to be taking this quite well himself.

Apparently Dustin's former master had never left Nepal in his life. Though he looked dazed for other reasons. Like a man being offered a job by the Devil himself. Not that she would equate Dustin with the Devil. There were similarities, no doubt about it. The Devil would certainly live in a big house and wear suits if her were human. She was not religious, but that she knew. But the Devil would be more subtle.

Sarish seemed quite familiar with any evil that resided in Dustin.

But all that aside. Dustin had unlocked her powers, and she didn't even care if it was for his own gain. And now a master would teach her how to use them.

-- INTERLUDE --