Domine Aetian

**Domine Aetian**, better known as **Etienne**, is the eldest son of Domine Aeon, and one of two potential heirs to the Paraphilian barony of Mastri. With a razor-sharp wit and disarming smile, the boy is a magnetic presence, not so much *commanding* attention as politely *suggesting* it, in a tone that must be heeded.

Though sweet-natured and shockingly bright, "Ettie" (as his sister calls him) is a little bit...*odd*. He remembers things that never happened, and addresses complete strangers as old friends, knowing things about them that they hardly know themselves. While his family excuses these "lapses" as a side-effect of his poor health, it is hard to deny that there is something very special about Etienne. It's hard not to like him. His easy charm and endearing nature, belied by a poor constitution, invite those around him to gather close, even as he seems far away.

### A Child That Almost Wasn't

Of all the Old Houses in Sadistique, the Domines have buried the most children. Their family tree is a narrow, twisting line, flanked on all sides by empty cradles and early graves. Nance I was an only child, his mother having died in labor. His youngest son and daughter were the *third* such attempt after Nancy--and even then, Aeon was born premature. His survival was considered a miracle, and potentially, a sign that their days of lost infants might be over. Then, his son came into the world in a noose.

Quick intervention by the midwife spared the House another grave, but the damage was done; those moments of strangling left him with a lifelong shortness of breath, and a voice that was little more than a whisper. The near-invisible hollow at the pit of his throat remained as he grew--a reminder of the fate he had narrowly avoided.

### Whispers in the Dark

His parents were grateful for his survival, but the near-miss left them understandably cautious. Etienne was equal parts spoiled and sheltered, given everything his heart desired from the safety of his home. He was hyperactive and easily bored, facts that caused his exhausted parents no small amount of grief, but his good cheer in spite of his frailty kept everyone in high spirits.

He was widely considered to be an odd child, often found talking to the wallpaper, and wandering the halls at night. He had a knack for getting into rooms that were thought to be locked, even as a toddler. The most unsettling of his habits, however, was his penchant for commenting on things that had not happened yet. Etienne regularly referred to people and places he never could have known, remarking on events that no one recalled as if they had just passed, and asking questions about those long gone. His family dismissed this as mere flights of fancy. They believed it was proof of an abundant imagination. A natural response to his weakness. Eventually, Etienne stopped trying to convince them.

He was nothing if not a happy child, ever talkative and underfoot. However, beneath his sunny exterior, a darkness began to take root. No matter the company he kept, no matter the friends he made, Etienne was plagued by a phantom sense of isolation. Even in a full room, he often felt entirely alone. Though he sought his family for comfort, and found it often, he questioned whether they--or *anyone*--truly cared for him. He soon took to hiding himself away, in the hopes that being found would prove to his mind that he was loved. He was so good at it that he was seldom found.

That is, until Ever came. The sudden appearance of the Prince heir was a surprise to the household--to everyone, except for Etienne, who had been waiting for him for years. They were good friends, he insisted at their first meeting, and always had been. And right away, Ever knew that he was right.

### A Friend for Ever

The day they met, Etienne told Prince Everleigh Charming that he was late. Two years late, to be exact. It was a fact that neither boy could have known, as tradition should have had them introduced much earlier, but Ever did not question it. From that very first day, Ever and Etienne were inseparable, partially because Etienne told him they were, and Ever--himself bookish and shy, but cripplingly bright--believed him. To Etienne, Ever was both the friend he was promised, and the friend he had known all his life, even before they were introduced. That was just how he understood it, and no one could convince him otherwise.

As it turned out, he was right.

No more had Ever entered Etienne's life than his darkness found itself challenged. Etienne confessed his fears to his new friend, then only eight years old, and Ever swore from that first day to always find him, no matter where he hid. The young Prince spent the next ten years doing just that, seeking Etienne out without fail, and helping to distract him from the echoing void he felt at every side. When Etienne reached out a hand, Ever was there to hold it. He never hesitated, and Etienne loved him for that.

For his part, Ever did what he could to discourage Etienne's more destructive habits, fussing over his health, and following him around, ostensibly to keep him out of trouble. He mostly succeeded, when Etienne didn't manage to rope him into his schemes, which he often did. As they aged, Etienne found it easier and easier to get what he wanted from the Prince heir, and he made use of Ever's indulgence at every opportunity. The only lines Ever would not cross were those that put Ettie in danger.

Then, they went to school, and all of that went out the window.

### Past Mistakes

Axiom College offered Etienne the same alluring promise it gave to all the highborn sons of Paraphilia: a chance to be a normal boy, if only for a time. Etienne was swept up right away. Now out from under the watchful eye of his strict father and doting mother, "Ethan" quickly took up every discipline he could safely perform. He showed a surprising skill for acting, and quickly rose to the top of his fencing class, the speed and precision required suiting his delicate system without endangering it, all while providing the rush of a fight. He excelled in all of his classes, easily charming his instructors along the way, and quickly became popular amongst his classmates, making friends of all the people he already knew.

All of them, except for Victor Abernathy.

The moment they first crossed eyes, Ethan was struck with something he had never felt before: an overwhelming sense of hatred, as for someone who had harmed him beyond measure. That they had never met before made no difference; from the first day, Ethan knew--as he knew so many things--that this boy, that *Vischias Sei'Dist*, was a monster, and one that needed to be put down. For his part, Victor was surly and disagreeable, but seemed otherwise innocuous, showing him little more than the scorn he seemed to show everyone else. Ethan wasn't fooled. Silently, he made it his goal to unearth whatever evil "Victor" had planned, and to do so on a grand scale.

The opportunity came when Victor took up fencing, and summarily beat all other competitors into the ground, using brute force in place of finesse. Seeing the opening, Ethan challenged him to a duel, which Victor--faced with an effeminate slip of a boy--readily accepted. What came next was the embarrassment of his lifetime. Ethan didn't just win--he sabotaged his own foil, and struck not one but *two* blows to Victor's face, carving a cross into his cheek, a mark that would one day scar. He did this, full-knowing that the consequences would be dire. He had only been seeing them in his nightmares since he was ten. And yet, Victor's reaction was not what Ethan expected. He was incandescent with rage, threatening him with every manner of harm, but the threat was all that came. He did not transform into the beast Ethan knew he was. He remained a spoiled and angry teenage boy, now wearing the scar that would become his trademark, and did nothing in return but shout.

When questioned, Ethan denied any wrongdoing, and the powers that be were only too eager to dismiss the incident as an accident. Ethan retreated from the duel, convinced that his actions would invite reprisal from his temperamental rival. Armed with his knowing, he waited for the moment Victor would take his vengeance--but the moment came and went, and Victor did not. He made no secret of his hatred for Ethan and what he had done, but that was as far as his wrath seemed to reach.

For the first time in Etienne's life, something he knew would happen...had not happened. And he had no idea why.

### Ripples

A lifetime spent anticipating events in advance had left Etienne skilled in seeking patterns. It took him almost no time to discover the loose thread in the tapestry that was meant to be his school-life. Every person of any consequence he had met, he knew of far in advance, in shadow, or in full--all of them, except for Alfred Duncan. The boy was an outlier in an otherwise formulaic world. When they met on first day, Etienne was struck by the fact that he did not remember him, nor did he remember him any other time they met. That someone so striking would not remain in his memory was mystery enough, but then, there was his proximity to Victor. Etienne knew Vischias Sei'Dist as well as he knew his own name, but never had he known him in the company of anyone at all. And yet, it was Fred at the sidelines of the duel, and Fred who pulled Victor away when he tried to strike back. It was Fred who followed him to classes, who slept in his room, who pulled his hair during lectures, and drew on his hands--Fred, who bandaged his newly-scarred face. For him to be so close to Victor and yet be an unknown was impossible. Etienne knew Vischias Sei'Dist, but he did not know Fred.

From the moment Victor failed to take his vengeance, Ethan knew something had changed in his world. He soon realized that Fred was the difference. He did not remember Fred from Before, because there *was* no Fred Before. But Fred was there now, and whatever power he held over Victor, it was changing things.

The revelation that the things that he saw *could* be changed was world-shattering. He had spent his life reading ahead in a script that was already finished, only for a boy to come along and scribble on his pages, or remove them outright, seemingly without noticing. He wasn't even upset, because it seemed that Fred had only managed to redact out the worst scenes in the story: the ones where his own actions found him in Victor's terrible hands. That Fred had accomplished this just by being present was a wonder in itself. He showed no signs of knowing, no awareness to the things he had altered. He simply was, and because he was, Victor was not the monster he was meant to be.