thewidewideworld | (no subject)

"I don't want to harm them. But I won't hurt anyone for them. Nor will I let them enslave me." He answers passionately.

He settles, making himself comfortable and nods.

"No more you should." He settles himself to his own satisfaction as well. "The first step is to make your mind empty of all thoughts, so far as you can."

He nods and centres himself, remembering the breathing rhythms Hannibal taught him.

It isn't easy, just when he feels he is clearing his mind, images and feelings surface.

"Brick by brick", Childermass continues calmly, "make a wall between your own self and the Pattern. Do not hurry, and do not fear if it starts to fail. It can be rebuilt."

Sinric nods, biting his lip as his eyes half close.

He envisions as Childermass instructs, building a wall about himself. Twice it crumbles, the visions of Athelstan and Ragnar's deaths pressing in on him.

Childermass doesn't move, even as he watches Sinric's expression.

"Remember, what you see may yet be changed. As clear as it may seem."

"No." He answers a little forcefully. "I saw alternative threads, saw the other paths. But I know which are and which will not be. I learnt young that history cannot be changed. I have seen the wounds in the tapestry where men have tried."

"The alternative threads belong to other worlds, perhaps", he allows. "But there is the question of when the future becomes history, set in stone."

Sinric doesn't answer but dips his eyes in a small nod. He disagrees and must do so. If he doubts that, it will put in doubt the he couldn't save Constantine. And that would tears him apart at the seams.

He closes his eyes and begins again, trying to build the wall stronger.

"Good", Childermass encourages. "Do not expect it to be done in a day, or to stand forever if it is."

"How do you build it again, when it falls, when I weaken?" He asks with a smudge of self pity.

"You pick yourself up", he says bluntly, not indulging that self-pity, "and you start again. Brick by brick."

He lowers his eyes in submission at the rebuke and tries again.

His walls are not as strong as they need to be and he sighs with frustration.

"You expect too much. You've not been trying for an hour yet." There's no impatience in Childermass' voice. He's started this and he'll see it through. "You are not in immediate danger, so do not rush."

"I may not be in immediate danger but but those around me, those I hold most dear may be. The things I know, the things I see can hurt them. And I cannot let that happen." His voice grows determined and fierce.

He tries again but the wall shifts and crumbles.

"They can only hurt them if you tell them what you see, until they come to pass." He sees the failure on Sinric's face. "Again. Make each layer strong before you move to the next."

"This isn't working." He snaps, instantly contrite.

"Forgive me. That was rude. But may I try another way? I think... I have an idea."

"By all means. You know your own mind better than I."

He slips off the bench and kneels on the floor, his eyes closes and his fingers spread wide, lightly touching the floor.

Instead of visualising a wall, he sings, a soft tune, wordless and flowing. He sings a mosaic into being, one tiny gilded tile at a time. He sings patterns into the tiles, abstract representations of his path, just as he did with the cards.

Childermass can't read his mind, but he can see the tension begin to leave him. He watches, not interrupting.

The song becomes more complex, more confident as the wall takes shape. There's a shimmer in the air, tiny flashes of gold surrounding Sinric.

He smiles a little.

"Tie it in with the magic you already had. Good."

Sinric brings the song closer, his voice rising to a crescendo, the gold shimmering growing brighter and brighter.

At the very apex of the last note, the web of gold sinks into his, his skin shining with it for a moment before its gone.

He falls to the floor, laughing in bewildered exhaustion. "I didn't that would work."

"Anything is worth trying. If it had not, you would have found something else... and now you will know how to reinforce it, should it begin to fail in the future."

"It's not strong enough yet. I know I will need to rebuild it over and over. But I can feel the shape of it now. And if I do it at dawn, when I'm most at peace-"