Creeptastic PV Kaegan Closed

Alice watched his change in expression, the obvious flash of fear, with concern. Surely, he wouldn't be frightened of just a picture, would he? Alice fumbled to close the book but then he spoke, asking her what the picture was, his eyes trapped by the moments before the brutality that was sure to have ensued. Alice scooted over slightly to make room for the boy beside her, patting the spot delicately, as if too hard a pat might scare him further.

"Please," she said, quietly. "Will you sit?" She then ran her thin fingers over the picture, noting absently the raised ridges the ink made against the parchment and the way one could feel the magic that made the picture move in a sort of floaty way, clearly portraying that the event had taken place under water.

"It's the ancient civil war," she said, her voice clearly appropriate for a Library. "A long time ago, a large underwater tribe split right down the middle. There are many different recordings of why and how, but my favorite is about the lost trident. It's said to have the ability to unite all merpeople under one ruler, but the ruler was murdered and the trident taken. One side insisted it was the other and thus the war was born." Her eyes were trained on the page before her, enraptured by the mystery of it all. "Naturally, a side won, but no one knows which. It's a highly guarded secret amongst them. The rumor is that something so tragic happened that it's kept tight under wraps to save their society face."

The girl asked him to sit, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He was scared, scared of a picture his mind had made of a painting in a book. Scared enough to not want anything to do with it, or the girl who was holding it. But she seemed too fragile and soft to actually be a threat to him. Or at least, he thought so. And so he did sit. Or rather, he climbed up and crouched on the seat, ready to spring away should the armies of mermaids leap out from the page with blood soaked spears.

The story she spun for him was quite a bit scary, it was unnerving, and he was not at all happy to have heard it. In history of magic class, and now here, he was learning about this thing called war. Something not borne of a need for food, or a simple want to kill. Not even anger. It was a force of nature, as far as he was concerned. It was unnatural. It was too bloody, even for him. But somehow, it called out.

War didn’t kill, it slaughtered, and left scars on the earth itself. It was something like a death ray, like a spell of mass eradication. He might keep it up his sleeve later, if he ever needed something like that, but for now, it was too scary. Too strong.

“I don’t think I like war.”

Alice looked up from the picture in surprise. It didn't seem like the boy knew much of anything about what she was talking about and her instinct was to comfort him the way her mother comforted her, but she wasn't sure it was entirely proper for her to do so. As a way to meet half way, she patted his shoulder gentle, her touch a whisper of wind.

"I can't say anyone in the midst of a war enjoyed it either," Alice replied kindly. "But, I suppose, if you look at it the way this artist does, you can see its beauty. To see people fighting and dying for something they believe in, well I think that says more about the species than this war ever really could." She shut the book to keep from frightening the boy more and slid it over to him.

"If you really want to read it, I feel like I should tell you there are a lot of gruesome things in there," Alice continued. "I'm not sure you'll like it much, but there are plenty of other books on mermaids that are quite pleasant. For example, there's a whole guide on underwater basket weaving."

The boy quickly came to the conclusion that the little girl next to him was a lot more powerful than he would ever give her credit for. She sat there talking of one of the most terrible weapons he knew of like she was talking about a thing of beauty. People dying for what they believed in. What did that even mean? What did people believe in that they would want to die for? He believed the sky was blue, that didn’t mean he would die because he believed that, right? If he was in a war, would he have to force himself to not believe in anything to make it out alive? Was it like an invisible monster that ate people that believed in things? Did something like that even exist?

She changed the topic to books on how to weave baskets underwater, but he didn’t really care. His mind was glued on the horribly fascinating idea of war. The brilliant, brutal weapon that was killed anyone who believed.

“So, if they didn’t have a belief, would they live?”

She was smart, and powerful. That much was obvious. When she gently stroked his shoulder, he flinched, and shifted away, about the lunge for the nearest exit before stopping himself. She hadn’t hurt him. Touching him wouldn’t do anything, it hadn’t hurt. He settled back to where he was, moving his hand up to touch where her hand had just been before stopping himself, and putting it back on his lap with the other.

Alice blinked, unsure of why he would ask such a question. She wasn't following his line of thinking and opted for explaining it to him in more minimal terms. It wasn't that she didn't think he was intelligent enough to understand, it was more that she thought any new information should would give him would only confuse the boy further. She didn't want him to be confused because being confused was unpleasant for conversation. It was better to make one's partner in conversation feel that he or she had an equal if not higher understanding of what was being discussed. If she failed to do so, it could give them a bad impression of her and, in association, her family.

"Well, not necessarily," she began. "Just because someone believes in something doesn't mean they will be killed in battle. It's about the skill a person possesses, though belief may give them a good boost of energy. Think of it like this. Everyone in that war felt they had a good reason to fight. They believed they were right, that the war was important for the future of their people. So they were willing to make a possible sacrifice, their life. It didn't necessarily mean they died, but it was the thought that counted. That's what makes it so beautiful. That they were willing to pay the ultimate price in the hopes that everyone they loved would be secure and happy."

It was confusing, and a little weird to hear of something he so clearly understood as one of the world’s most horrible weapons rationalized and romanticized. Why did the people fighting think their cause was right? There was a right side, and a wrong side. There was always a right side and a wrong side, that was how these things worked. The wrong side knew they were wrong but was fighting anyway because they were evil and wrong. The right side would fight against them because they were good and trying to uphold the good, or survive.

And she said that everyone there was willing to pay the ultimate price, in this case death, to ensure their loved ones stayed alive. Well, what was the point if their side lost? What did they gain? They gained nothing. And what about the wrong side, what did they gain? Nothing, but they were evil. Evil people gained when other people lost. It was that simple. Kaegen lived in a rather black and white world, with the spots of white few and far between. Grey didn’t really exist, and it certainly didn’t exist for him in this concept of war.

”But the bad side? why were they fighting?”

He wasn’t sure if she was very smart, or very wrong. Or maybe both. Were smart and wrong mutually exclusive, though? Or maybe he had just misunderstood everything.

Alice shifted in her seat. She had a feeling this was going to be a while and she hoped that when he got up to leave at the end of this conversation, he would want to come back and reengage with in another one; if not for anything but her company. The idea of the boy not enjoying being around her bothered Alice more than she would ever admit. She was supposed to be liked, charming, and endearing. That was the picture she was to paint to those around her- even the undesirable types for the sole purpose of appearances. It was no longer acceptable to show prejudice in mainstream society. She shuddered at the realization that her inner thought mimicked her father's voice and rushed on to explain in an attempt to silence her wayward thoughts.

"Well," she began, folding her hands gently across her lap. "There wasn't necessarily a 'bad' side. Looking at it from our point of view, there were only sides that believed the other was bad. They didn't have all the information, you see. No one does. For example, if a boy took your wand, you would believe he were bad, yes? But what if that boy thought it was his wand? What if he thought that you took his wand? Would he then be bad for being misinformed? For taking the wand that he knew to be his? And what if the situation were reversed? What if your wand came up missing and someone told you that that boy took it? What would you do?"

The girl began to explain, and he began to listen. She said that there wasn’t a bad side, which was wrong. That couldn’t be right. That would be like saying that the death witches were people too. It was just plain nonsense. But he tried to imagine it anyway. Tried to imagine what that would be like. Two mirror armies fighting each other with equal mindsets and equal footing. A universe clashing with another just like it and yet different.

She had two questions for him. The first was what would happen if a boy took his wand and thought it was his. Since the boy would think he was being fine and returning his own wand to himself, but Kaegen himself would be thinking that we was right in taking the wand that the boy thought he was right by stealing. Or something like that. Regardless, it was a pretty easy question. The second one just had reversed roles, and was even easier.

“Well, if he took my wand he was wrong. So there is a wrong, and a right. He’s just being stupid. And I wouldn’t take the wrong wand, because I don’t put mine down. So what you’re saying, is that one side is good, and the other side is wrong?”

Alice opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, searching tirelessly for a way to explain to him that there didn't have to be a right and wrong side, that, in the case of the mermaids, there wasn't such a solid answer as right and wrong. It was clear that hypothetical scenarios did nothing to help and she wasn't sure what the proper next step would be. She imagined him as a toddler unable to stop asking the question 'why' with every answer she gave. She slid the book over to him, leather bound and dusty.

"How about you read it? I'm sure that if you do, you could identify with the beliefs on both sides and understand that maybe they both were right in their own way," she said. She kept her voice calm and collected, careful not to reveal her exasperation at inadequately giving him a proper answer. "Maybe you'll find mermaids as fascinating as I do. They have such a wild way of life, even if violence is their way of coping most day to day problems and they don't particularly fancy the wizarding community. Something about insulting their intelligence and so forth. I'd certainly not want to be the official that has to lay down the law for them,"

The solution she gave to allow Kaegen to understand her point of view was simply for him to read the book. He didn't really know what to say. For a little boy whose fragile worldview depended on him being strong, this was a horribly sensitive issue, a chink in the glass house of truths he had created based off of what he thought he knew. Kaegen was a ravenclaw, to be sure. But he had certainly not been placed in that house based off of his aptitude for reading. He had always read slowly, and carefully, and had always had a lot of trouble with books, as much as he loved the stories they told.

Reading the book at that point in time, in front of that girl, would only highlight his weakness. He didn't want that to happen, he couldn't let that happen. But he didn't know of a socially acceptable dodge, didn't know of a way to say no without making it clear that he was trying to not be seen laboring over the pages of a book, focusing on each individual word and moving on to the next. He may have not been placed in Ravenclaw for his reading skills, but his wit at least was more or less functional. Pointing to a rather interesting looking book on the shelf, Kaegen spoke, using a tried and true method.

"Look. It's a distraction."

And then turning, he ran from the room, secure in the knowledge that he had just escaped. A little more practice, and he would be able to read just as fast as that girl could.

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