ORIGINAL: Path of Tears (1/?)

[Alan Rogers <masterofwords@xxxxxxxxxx>]

Since I've gotten such great feedback on Ascension's Shadow here, I thought I would post the first bit of an original I'm writing and see what kind of response it gets.  This is just the first scene (not nearly as long as one of my Ascension's Shadow installments) but it's still decent enough, I think. 

I did ask for permission before posting this -- and I'm trying to stay true to the idea behind the lists; this is an f/f slash story, even if it is the sequel to another novel of mine.  Even so, this story can work as a stand-alone, and the first one only has minor background themes of f/f (see what turning me into a B/W shipper has done?  *glares at Kimber and Mad Hamlet a little*)

A little side note to Kimber - I changed some of the names to better fit the 'flavor' of the universe.  Let me know how you think the changes fit, if you can.

I hope you enjoy!

---

"Do you believe in magic?"

The voice cut through the din of the busy maglev station, and the girl
stopped, tugging her father's leather jacket tighter around her thin
body. Lank strands of dark almost-auburn hair hung to her waist, hiding
her gaunt face. Her sneakers scuffed on the concrete as she hunched over,
praying the sensation of his eyes between her shoulders would go away.

Noise and bustle flowed around her, drowning her in a crowd of people
just wishing she would get out of their way, but he still saw her. He
still could find her wherever she went, and he wouldn't stop following
her until he had some kind of absolution, some kind of forgiveness that
she could never provide him. The same kind of forgiveness she wished she
had; the forgiveness neither of them deserved..

But it was the first time he had ever asked her a question she knew the
answer to.

Damn.

She grit her teeth and tightly shut her brandy brown eyes. It was
best if she got this over with now, and finished running.

"I suppose I don't really have a choice anymore, now do
I?"

Finish running. It was an odd thought, and an even stranger concept. Run
to where? From what? 

I don't know anymore.

"You always have a choice. You can imagine that all of this is a
nightmare, and that the past three years never happened. Or, Jasi, you
can wake up to the world, and accept what you are."

Refusing to turn and face him, she adjusted the duffel bag that weighed
heavily on her uninjured shoulder, and bit back the tears she had yet to
give in to. Grinding her teeth, she answered bitterly, hating having to
surrender even the least bit to him.

"No. I can't pretend it doesn't exist, because I can't 'pretend' my
father back from the dead."

Jasi though she felt him wince. Guilty satisfaction warmed her empty
stomach. 

"No, it can't. But he wouldn't have wanted you to run away. Let me
give you someplace to run to, someplace that can help you, teach you, to
deal with the gift you've been given."

Physically forcing herself to turn and face him, she couldn't bring
herself to meet his eyes. The gentleman didn't force her, didn't push her
any farther than he had to. But he would not allow his best friend's
daughter to run into nothingness and get swallowed by the world around
her, another face that nobody bothered to put on a milk carton.

"Why?"

His shoulders slumped, and his head bowed. His hand clenched and
unclenched around the head of his cane, but he refused to allow emotion
to seep into his voice. He had never admitted to emotion, or acknowledged
it, despite being exceptionally prone to its ravages.

"Because if no one helps you, you will end up worse than Daniel.
Worse than dead. Worse than forgotten. Paul Thorn can help you. Let me
get you to him."

Let me repay your father some of what I owe him. Please.

Jasi met his green eyes, staring hard at him. "Teach me? Teach
me what? To be you?" She spat the words at him, standing straighter
than she had in days. Never tall, she somehow rose above the crowd.

The gray haired man adjusted his beige trench coat and smiled, managing
to put sadness, bitterness, and hope in the simple _expression_ all at
once. 

"No. Not me. To learn to be your father."

---

~alan, the mad dragon (a.k.a Listmum
Kimber's Pet Muse)