4 Paths

When should someone be allowed to starve to death?

Walking over to the fireplace, I threw a wood block in; this tiny cabin was cold despite all the people. Much like my mood, it needed warming up.

If you wish to get to know someone, challenge them with this question under the conditions that you are alone, trusted, and guarantee to answer after they do. I take a moment to warm my hands, breathing in the smells of snow, earth, and pine. Turning around, my eyes, like most men, were drawn to the prettiest thing in the room.

She was beautiful with skin that could only be called ebony and hair whiter than the snow outside. She stood tall, eyes filled with command locked across the table, ready for outrage.

In front of her, an older gentleman bald, in a nice outfit and heavy coat, sitting in a wheelchair. When asked my question after a few hours to justify himself, Charles Xavier answered," Only if it saves others."

I tried to suppress the hate in my eyes as I look across the table.

Max Eisenhardt was a somewhat complex person, but when asked, his answer was immediate," Never!"

I took a moment to examine the strange purple artifact on his head. Something to keep Charlie out, I assume? Looking back at my old friend, I can see the need. I could feel the discipline in his psychic energy, but my mental shields feel lightly compressed.

After years of friendship, this was the reality of their nature, strengths, and vulnerabilities. My hatred was not for Max but the smiling blue-skinned creature behind him.

It would seem snapping the neck of a shape-shifter was not notable for killing them. A wave of my hand saw the stool in front of me change into a chair that could support me.

A sharp look to both men and a second wave heeded two more chairs.

I smiled and, with a slight bow," Ladies?"

They answered me with blank stares, but I kept my bow until they sat. As I sit down, I wave downs Charlie's opening statements and ask," Have you all eaten?"

Charles and his guess answer that they had, and as expected, Max suddenly is starving. Mystique knows better than to think the question was for them.

I slowly spin my hand, and the sound of sparks fills the room. A small stone-colored hole the size of a grain of rice appears.

Speaking into it, I ask," Breakfast, please."

Holding the gate for a few milliseconds, I let the energies go. There was a moment of awkward silence as nothing happens, then plates and goblets of stone appear. Then chicken, eggs, steak, baked potatoes, pancakes, and all manner of goodies.

I took a moment to transform the old table to stone; the house-elves knew how hungry everyone really was. With my backup hidden around the room, I look at Charles again and ask," Are you sure you're not hungry?"

I held no reservation that Charles could sense the helpful elves' minds, but he was not a person of war. Max's laugh drew my attention, with a frow," I imagined you were moving your way to Russia?" I asked.

As his smile dimmed, his eyes dulled because he was not a person of peace.

"Can I have some?" the question is asked weakly, so soft I almost missed it. I look over to what I am sure is the origin of another headache.

Rogue is her name, sixteen, though I am sure she lied because I could still smell the mother's milk in her system. I look at her new attack dog, Jimmy; no, I mean Logan has not aged a day. I regrate screeching his mind when we first met, but time and a bullet changes people. I should have known his intentions were honorable, but I had to be sure, given the child's true nature.

Jimmy acknowledged a small indication of the food with a nod, and I summoned two more chairs across from me. It took willpower not to recoil as the child drew near.

As Charles and Max were trading words, I sent a hushed thanks to the more helpful entities over the years and reached for the chicken. The signal given everyone attacked the food with desire.

Unfortunately, Mystique knew I would poison anything she touched.

I tuned out Max and Charles, flinging subtle insults and threats as I assess the situation. Adler, this whole situation stuck with her sloppy handy work.

Three of my oldest friends happen to be in the middle of the woods in a snowstorm? My problem and the best solution setting next to each other?

Blue bi**h?

After years of dealing with her, I could see her storybook style all over this moment. The woman spent far too much time reading her fairytales. The three wise men and a young girl that doesn't know what she is. Charles informed her of what being a mutant means, and Max corrected him. I am also sure that Ji...Logan must have shared a bit over their time together, but she is not a mutant.

Reaching for my cup, taking a long-drawn pull of the bitter wine, appreciating how it blended with the spicey meat. I put down my cup and look at the girl, not with my eyes but with my magic.

She is weak; that fact alone may be the only reason she till breaths. She was born of a squib line given her total lack of control and, without a doubt, the last of her kind.

The only other person like her I have met was 50 years ago. Alyssa of the Siren Sect, a veela turned vampire who was surprisingly lovely, if inappropriate.

My blood tastes like clay indeed and the closest thing I have to a mother. That Sect has the ears and beds of almost every man and woman in power in Europe. As those elected fools sleep drunk on their own power, their wives, mistresses, and secretaries laughed with blood on their lips.

Even then, she was only an imitation of the creature sitting not four feet from me eating like this, maybe her last meal for weeks.

What surprised me thou was the amount of magic coming from the white-haired woman next to me.

Max's yelling across the table interrupted my thoughts. " Charlies, I am telling you that Srikers' experiments on mutants are going to stop. I agreed to leave America in your hands, but this has gone too far."

It seems their typical ridicule is over, and they're gearing up for another cycle of combat.

" He is right, Charlies." Speaking for the first time, I play my part as I have over countless arguments. With a wave to my forgotten friend, I continue." Jimmy here is one of."

With a growl, I am talked over," Look bud, I appreciate the help back there on the road, calming everyone down and all, and thanks for the food, but my name is Logan."

I nod as I apologize," I am sorry, Logan is who you are now, but James Howlett was your name before Striker got his hands on you." Reaching into my robes, I pull out a file, taking a moment to study the Shield symbol on top.

I hand it to Jimmy and repeat the very first words he ever said to me.

"Your eyes only."

He looks at me, confused, before grabbing some chicken and leaving the table.

"Are you like a spy or something?"

Spoken with a mouth loaded with food, I almost didn't understand the child but choose to pretend they had not said anything.

"That would explain your outfit."

Transfiguration outside of my specialties was difficult without a wand, and no one should clearly listen to a child's opinion on fashion.

"Yes, I can not help wonder where you have been, Hagrid?"

Almost nonchalantly, Max questioned me. The anger was apparent, and given that I was the most meaningful monetary sponsor of the brotherhood, I can imagine why. Grieving my question on Russia, I answered honestly," I was the... guest of a particularly twisted time demon."

I could feel my old friends seeking my eyes as I took another drink, the shame and guilt clear on my soul. Even after all these years, the Ancient One can still play Mozart with my emotions.

"I am sorry de what?" I was grateful for the silly question as I faced the woman to my left.

"I beg your pardon, Miss?" waving the S in miss to request the answer, the young women replayed, " Storm." Her tone was chilly.

I was mentally years too old to have the desire or heart for this woman, but it seems she must have misread my action. So being the gentle giant I was, I corrected her," Ms. Strom, I can't help but be interested in your abilities."

Curling my fingers, lightning danced across them," Would you know if your powers are active or passive?" A confused look was my response until Charlies replayed," There passive as best I can tell, Rubeus." Disappointing but not unexpected, give her magic.

Charles was a good man helping me change the subject.

" I think you forgot the demon part."

I hate children sometimes.

Turning to the girl, I answered," I think we should focus on the future, not my past; for example, what do you want to do, child?" Her confidence was gone like a candle, leaving behind a scared little girl and a mean old giant. There were better ways to regain Jimmy's memories than using a child.

In fact, letting this magical creature gets lost in the nonmagical world was the best outcome. " After getting away from the crazy big old hairy giant, my future looking bright."

The disrespect.

I look over to Max," She's all yours."

He didn't smile, and the look in his eyes made it evident that he required the girl, and this would not end without violence. So much for the easy out.

" I'm sorry, but can you explain what you mean by active and passive?"

Thank all the beings of goodness and light for women with social grace.