Thread: Oaths Twice Writ, Thrice Sworn (Umbrale & Erit)

Just a young gun, with a quick fuse. I was up tight, wanna let loose. I was dreaming, of bigger things and, wanna leave my old life be-hind-ind-ind-ind- Being a late bloomer sucked, he decided. A lot. Resisting the impulse to glare at the offending alarm clock that had quite literally blown up in his face last timeChase Cadence pawed at the stuttering device until his sleepy fingers found the Off switch. Then he cracked open his eyes and stared, blearily, at the bland ceiling of his tiny room, absent the light of day at four in the morning. Being an indentured servant also sucked, kind of, but less so than being a late bloomer. At least the masters of the house were worth serving, not taking liberties with their subordinates like villains out of a cheap novella. Being born to the fallen House Cadence wasn't... all bad there was work to do, food to eat, a roof to sleep under, and they weren't confined to the grounds like livestock. But being like Chase, yet to develop and come into his own by eighteen? Oh, being a late bloomer drove him crazy, especially so with the dreams. He'd been happy when they'd started three months ago, since it meant he wasn't a lost cause, but damn if it wasn't annoying to him now, that he hadn't gotten this over with during puberty, like his cousins had. Sure, he had those years easier than they did, but now he had to deal with a second phase of that awkward torture only instead of mood swings and a cracking voice, he had to deal with stray magic and weird dreams until he could fully come into his power. That is to say Chase, like nearly every Cadence, was a mage, and roughly six years late he was awakening to his gift. A gift that would make things go haywire and generally be a nuisance until it stabilized hell-knows-when. Oh yes, being a late bloomer sucked. Better late than never, sure, but better still on time. A yawn cracked his square jaw, a dusky hand rubbing the sleep out of his silvery-blue eyes as Chase, butler and soon-to-be Magus extraordinare, dragged himself out of bed and into the slacks, vest and waistcoat one might expect to see male staff wearing on an estate as wealthy as the one his family worked for. Then he checked himself in the mirror, brushing the knots out of the curl-happy dust-colored hair that went half past his ears, noting happily that his uncle's clean shave tonic had worked like... well, magic, before leaving the tiny room he called his own, an oversized refurbished closet that fit his bed, a nightstand and a sink. It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much chance to need more, being kept busy either with duties, family, or study throughout his life. After shutting the doora lock was irrelevant to an indentured servanthe made his way through the expanse of the manor, hunting out the kitchens to make himself breakfast at four in the morning in the beginning of summer. Of course, with that came its own tribulations the lightswitch zapped him the first two times he tried to touch it, the stove fire winked out the second he lit it, and one of the eggs went so far as to try hatching in his hand before he cracked it over a pan, where the contents reverted to the yolk they jolly well should be. A melodious tittering at his back had Chase jumping with a harsh gasp, turning around and laying a hand over his scrambling heart as he turned to face iron-colored eyes of the culprit maid. F- I- You! He faltered, breathing heavily to center himself while the cousin in question simply smiled, mirth dancing in her eyes at his distress. Damn it Anna, He barked at last, sighing and slumping bonelessly against the counter, that wasn't funny! Perhaps to you, his cousin purred, before swatting him on the shoulder. Move, Chase. I'll make something for both of us. Really, you should know better than to try cooking in your state. He scooted aside with a discontent grumbling. Being a late bloomer sucks, he said for perhaps the eighty-eighth or eighty-ninth time, I'm borderline useless until everything settles down... Have you been keeping track of the dreams? His elder cousin hummed, focus in her posture as she busily salvaged Chase's sabotaged french toast. Not like there's much to track It's always the white void, and the roar. No totem, no guide, no council three months in, and nothing... He sighed, Maybe I'm just not an Inheritor. Anna Cadence tsked and swatted his brow with her spatula. I know for a fact I didn't just hear Lucian's son moping. If your parents catch you talking that foolishness, you'll be in for it. Oh, cut me some slack, Anna! He groaned, Nobody takes as long, nobody has incidents as exaggerated, nobody starts as late as I do! Akasha's trolling me or something, I know it! Akasha makes fools of us all before we emerge, Chase. She retorted, sliding a plate in front of him, Perhaps it's bullying you out of fondness? He scoweled into a bite of egg as she sat down across from him in the nook, resting her chin daintily atop interlaced fingers. I don't want to imagine the will of magic behaving like a second-grader. I've dealt with enough of that nonsense to last me a lifetime. Is this still about- He squawked and flailed in impotence, clapping a hand over his cousin's mouth and eying their surroundings warily. Please. Not this early in the morning, you jinx. Hmm mm mh mm hm mph. Her lips parted, tongue gracing his palm, and Chase fliched away with a grimace. I don't mind you manhandling me, Chase, but not in the kitchen. She winked, smirking as he blanched in response. You'll need to get over all of it eventually, you know. You're going to be taking over for Lucian, which means- Serving the head of the family directly, I know. If I come into my magic, at least... He sighed and picked up his empty plate, leaving it in the sink for the big clean-up after their masters' own breakfast later in the morning. Thank you for the meal, Anna, but I need to get going. Have fun The blonde minx chirped, Chase silently cursing her as he fled ever since coming into her magic she'd been an empathetic flirt, reveling in her Akashic totem as a wagtail. He could only hope his own was worth all this trouble as he went about his morning chores, which mostly consisted of waking up the rest of his family and directing them in their own tasks. As the heir to his own family's head, he rarely was involved in the regular labour, instead managing the throngs of servants from the Cadence family so that their benefactors didn't have to his father, in turn, managed the more skilled staff, the accountants and lawyers and guards and such. Chase had, for a time, also served as the personal attendant of their master's eldest, on the logic he could serve as a confidante as Lucian did the head of the house, but once the young man had started coming into his power it had been decided safest to quarantine him from the family until his power stabilized it wouldn't do, after all, for an incident of wild magic to cause distress for the house that sheltered them. When the rest of the staff were roused from their beds and assigned their duties, Chase took a moment to himself quietly sliding into the library and unshelving one of the many treatises of magic the Cadence family had penned over the years. Some of those times even predated the fall of their house in then-Prussia most of those ones were kept on far higher shelves behind locked glass panels, being both valuable and fragile for their age. There were efforts to transcribe them, of course, but progress was slow going as there was only ever so much time, and for a Cadence most of the waking hours were work or study. He prowled the shelves contemplatively, silver-blue eyes snapping from book to book, before he settled on the one he was after. On the Topic of Contracts and Inheritance of Akasha, Faust Cadence. Hello, great-grandpa... Then he sat down in a quiet little corner, cracking open the newly-rebound leather grimoire, and began to read. Last edited Jun 2, 2018