Author: Try to Remember PM
Aerrol believed he could create life anew. He paid the ultimate price for his arrogance.Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Tragedy - Chapters: 5 - Words: 4,998 - Published: 05-20-12 - id: 8134653
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Aerrol's Laboratory Vol. V (Current time)
"Oh, good, you're awake."
Iaden groaned sleepily and rubbed her eyes. Moonlight filtered into the small room through the barely parted curtains. She recognized the place well; it was Aerrol's bedroom. She lied in his bed, still dressed in the robes she'd been wearing before, but the man in the chair beside her wasn't him. The memories of what had occurred came flooding back abruptly as she looked into the man's face, realizing it to be that of the body she'd bound the blond lord's soul within.
"A-Aerrol?" she asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"
"Is that really my name?" the man asked, the corners of his mouth turning downward into a frown. "That's such a dumb name. It sounds too much like 'Arrow'."
"Are you playing a joke on me?" Iaden queried.
"No, I really have no idea what the hell my name is," the man answered sincerely. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me."
"Do you have any idea who you are or where you've come from?"
The man shook his head. "Nah. I just kind of woke up naked on a steel table and you were passed out next to it. That's about as far back as my memory goes."
"Perhaps you have Amnesia," mused the Spiritmaster.
The man shrugged. "Maybe. Who knows. I'm just glad you're up; you had me worried for a while."
"How long was I asleep?" Iaden asked, one hand brushing her hair from her eyes.
"Uh, four days, I think," the man answered. "What's your name, anyhow?"
"Iaden," she answered. "Iaden Ellethos."
"Iaden?" the man smiled. "That's a pretty name! I didn't really have a name, so I picked Thaynne for myself. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand toward her which she shook gently.
"Thaynne, then," she said with a wry smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Iaden had spent the rest of the night in Thaynne's company informing him of the events that led to his creation. At first he was skeptical, but at her mention of a charred corpse and a thin man's body with the throat torn out his disbelief changed. He'd seen them himself when carrying her from the lab to Aerrol's bedroom, and though he'd buried them days ago he couldn't help but wonder what was up with them. It was during their conversation that Iaden realized what must've happened; an amatuer in soulbinding, she concluded that her lack of experience must have led to her damaging her former employer's soul in the process of extracting and supplanting it. Thaynne, she reasoned, was the result of the fracture to his soul.
They shared certain traits in common; both men loved sweets and the colours of trees' leaves. Both seemed to have a fondness for birds. But they were very, very different in many ways. Aerrol was so serious all the time, and Thaynne was nearly his opposite. He liked smiling and laughing, and he seemed to be much more open with his feelings than Aerrol had ever been. Thaynne lacked Aerrol's knowledge of alchemy and science, and he'd never been a nobleman before. He simply lived as he wanted with no obligations to anything or anyone. After all, he didn't have anything or anyone in the world. But instead of being sad about it, he seemed to enjoy it; he'd even told her, "I don't really have a purpose, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't enjoy life."
Iaden had asked Thaynne to accompany her to the Fellwings Headquarters in Pandaemonium, where she told Drestiel of what had happened. Drestiel was griefstricken at first, but he seemed to relax quite a bit after speaking to the black-haired Sorcerer. He saw a lot of Aerrol in him, and the two became quick friends. The romantic feelings the cleric had for the late lord still prevailed, but he felt nothing outside the realm of the platonic for Thaynne.
"He's not Aerrol," the man said. "But Aerrol lives on through him."
Iaden knew of Aerrol's ties to the Order. She had heard rumors about them, the great gathering of researchers and their guardians that composed the well-respected group. She'd listened as her employer spoke of Keylaa, the way he described her wisdom and intellect betraying his deep respect for her. She couldn't simply leave her in the dark about what had befallen the young man; he would've wanted her to write to her. And so, Iaden sat down at the table before her, the other patrons of the Apellbine paying her no mind as she scribed a letter to Lady Chancellor of the Aetheric Order.