Brother Returns

63072000 Minutes, of Missing, a Story/Life We missed

Brothers Back

The house was stunning from this vantage point. I could see all of our lands and with my essence reach far beyond it to the city and even into the magic world that lay past the veil that hid the magical world, separating it from the mundane everyday world that humans called reality. House hadn't changed as the centuries and millennia had slowly rolled past the family. Right now it looked very much like a Victorian home from the eighteen hundreds. We guessed House found its appearance not only beautiful but functional and chose not to change anything about what it presented to the world. He, our home, had even provided me with a tower all my own, connected directly above my room. It was directly in the center of the building, complete with a platform that allowed me to see the stars, the moon, and the world around us. Standing up here, it's peaceful away from the world.

It would be impossible to give the layout of the house the only constant was the entry, and where in the House each of our rooms was. House moved walls and hallways as it pleased and as it thought most helpful. After changing centuries of living in this home we grew an instinct for where each room generally was and House gave us portals and means to get about that were constant and often nonsensical but fun.

Our estate sat outside the city thankfully, due to a combination of money and spellwork as the city grew our 20 acres alone seemed untouched by the world, ever-growing, ever-changing. Buildings go up only to be replaced decades later by another. The glamor of the house made it possible for us to live our mystic life undetected, we saw the world around us for what it was but looking from the edge of our estate's boundary inward, anyone saw a simple, normal life. A battle could be ragging anywhere on the estate and the humans outside would see a family picnic. I could fly the sky around our home and people looking in would see a bird in the air where I was.

Purely by accident, I discovered a limit to how high the glamor reached. On a beautiful day that was neither hot nor cold, I chose to fly up and up until I was a couple of miles above our home when a Cessna flew by. The man flying by didn't seem to notice me at first but when he did he visibly panicked, lost control, nose-diving, unable to regain control. He was heading straight for the House. House could protect himself but it wasn't always with the most finesse, I worried he would kill the man out of indifference. I called on my essence, reached out with it, and slowed, then stopped the plane. I flew down alongside him, Each on one side of his cockpit window. As we glided to the ground I tried to force out a smile that I'm sure looked more like a grimace than a smile. On the ground, I found the guy attractive, pale, a touch green but he was at least six foot three inches tall with that classic Hollywood good looks and the greenest eyes I had ever seen in the human our fey worlds. It was like looking into the essence of moss and ever-green forests or the soul of an emerald. I wondered if Fey's blood lay in his distant family. The Fey, the oldest of magical races. Modern people call them Fairies now but Fey is the proper noun for their race. Fey and humans have enough in common that interbreeding was not only easy but common. Some humans born with Fey bloodlines often have no idea. and after that encounter, I realized that there was a dome effect to the glamor around our refuge. We effectively lived in a dome of glamor.

Sitting there on the roof of my tower I felt a strange awareness entering our land, it was familiar but not recognizable, the land nor the house responded. My brothers and sister inside the house failed to react. The stranger must not pose a danger or have bad intentions. It seems only me on my tower noticed the brave visitor to our humble home.

Normally I would fly down slowly and gently to the ground, however, he had already crossed the boundaries of our glamor, not knowing who this person was and what they might do with the knowledge of our family, I opened the hatch that went back into my tower and descended the tower without stairs, l landed on my beloved Turkish area rug, I picked it up in 1920 in a cute little market I found after an emergency magical event. A dark portal had opened just outside of Isparta. a small agricultural town with wonderful vendors. This family had been making carpets for countless generations. I learned from one of the daughters that each family had a different way of knotting the rugs they made. I became obsessed with the hidden lineage and stories of carpet making. As a ranking member of a magical family myself, I sought out the hidden arts of spell crafting through weaving after that encounter. looking down at my carpet I couldn't help but wonder if her family had survived creating works of art and beauty for tourists and neighbors, I couldn't help but wonder if her now great-grandchildren were still working on the family craft or if the progress of industry had stolen that family's heritage as it did so many others as it had so many around the world.

Thanks to the magic of our enigmatic home every room could be the size of a football field or as small as a book without any change to the lines and curves, the slates of wood shingles. Not a dormer or roof railing was ever out of place; a person could enter a dormer window expecting to enter my brother Steven's room only to come into an attic space smack dab where his room should be. Even after millennia in this house, there were things, secrets I was unaware of.

Not that anyone would enter Steven's room really, he's been gone, not missing but his whereabouts were unknown for a little over 120 years. We all woke up one day and he was just gone. House hadn't alerted anyone to his leaving, and to this day house had refused to say anything about Steven's leaving they must have agreed, the House is faithful but not above personal interests. Next to me, Steven was the most connected to the house, we were all connected to House each in our private ways. When work created our never-ending life the house was enigmatically affected as well. What is now a beautiful Victorian house, was at first came into being as a simple log and mud cabin that belonged to our grandmother, our family had lived in it for ages and ages past. From then on it not only continued to change and grow but move around. Its choices of placement were curious at first until we figured out that each new town, each new bit of land was a center of powerful ley lines that boosted our powers and fed the house.

As I strolled to the door of my room I stopped in front of my cheval mirror and decided that greeting someone new to our home dressed in my magic armor might draw too much attention. The magical world refers to our armor as expressions. The color scheme always stayed the same but armor that looked like metal and leather on one magic user might look like a silk robe on another. Properties might change slightly but the primary function is always the same. My favorite go-to expression came from a battle I had with a crystal demon. I won the fight, and when all was said and done the beast's body lit up like the northern lights then coalesced into a small pulsing globe of crystal and light. I watched as the globe rose up and out of the chest of the now lifeless crystal body and slowly in a spinning display of light floated over to me, I raised my hand and the warmth of the ball gently settled into my palm then like fluid it splashed in slow motion, down into and over my palm, slowly trailed down my wrist and forearm. Little pricks of light seeped into my pores as the expression took hold in my blood, in my bones. I felt the essence, the story of its power while the latticework of my bones drank in the power and stashed it away in my silent and unknown center where my essence came from and then a new perfectly round, smooth stone appeared in my satchel at my waist. A new expression was born. The stone's expression could not only protect its wearer as if encased in a substance harder, stronger, and more durable than diamond but at the same time channeling mystic energies took less effort and amplified any magic used. There was a lensing effect, unique to this expression. If any space or time magic was used by the bearer of this expression the flow of space, and the flow of time was more effective than normal and took less essence to expand or compress the subject being manipulated. To me the expression was an indigo cotton-like robe, it moved freely, allowed fresh air to pass freely, and was comfortable for meditation but with a little application of my source energy, it could become the hardest armor or large enough to house any expedition. all while still looking like a simple piece of cotton. "House could you find something mundane but fetching for me to greet or guest? Wrap my expression up into one of my messenger bags for me, please. " I kept a bag of expressions with me at all times even just out shopping, it was better to be prepared than

After changing I left my room and decided to use the slide that the house had placed behind a family portrait. House along with the entire family had a fun and playful side, evidence of our youthful joyous nature could be found all around our home, the House had a fountain of a Nymph holding a trumpet into the air, keeping it out of reach of coy fish, gnomes, A young tree troll, and a sundry of other youthful mystic beings. The fountain though, instead of water blew bubbles and glitter into the pool below. The glitter melted into a rainbow of color and the bubbles if caught in your mouth had a range of flavors, from chocolate to vanilla, birthday cake, and bubble gum. There were the prank flavors as well, beef or liver, once I got a rotten egg flavor. House had led us all into the greenhouse with balloons and candles for David's 3rd Centerton birthday. It's been in the greenhouse as a testament to both his birthday and our family's commitment to spontaneous joy and playfulness.

The slide could take you from floor to floor or all the way to the foyer. The house had a sense of humor because at the foyer you came out from behind a statue of a butler.

I could feel the visitor getting closer, the walk from the road to the house normally took twenty minutes or could take three hours. It deepened the house's mood, its power extended to the end of our property. Today it was a normal twenty minutes. I came out from behind the butler only to find Karen sitting on the last step of the grand staircase also in mundane clothes, she looked excited but spooked, her gifts in spirit interaction and empathy she had been made aware of our visit just moments ago. All four feet five inches of her looked like a spring ready to snap, the muscles under her skin tense and almost vibrating. Sparks of magic danced around her changing her hair color first purple then dark blue, hot pink, and gray. Her spirit friends and her spirit dog, a large mastiff that had crawled into our property about three hundred years ago, he was old, sick, and abused. She brought him to the healing altar in the greenhouse, she used every herb grandmother had taught her to heal sickly animals. House brought her every book on animal magic we owned. Karen even called on the healer's council to help but sadly it was a mundane animal and magic could only affect it so far. She stayed with the beast until it died. She worked to make every last moment pleasant and as beautiful as she could. She brought it fresh beef, even though Karen herself had long been a vegetarian, she brought it fresh fish she cleaned and cut herself even though the idea of killing an animal repulsed her, she made sure the mastiff was warm and that it lay on a bed off phoenix feathers wrapped in the best cotton from Avalon. After it passed he took his place at Karen's side as a friend, as a protector, and now as a spirit, a familiar the likes of which no magic user would ever have again.

Finally, our visitor was at the door, we stood up, Karen dismissed her magic and the spirits faded into the realm between there and ours.

However, instead of stopping at the door they just walked in, more startling the house just let him turn the handle and enter. With shock on our faces and apprehensive and uncertain about the situation, my sister and I simultaneously manifest our expressions. Karen's silver chain mail, leather bracers, woolen pants, and sturdy yet perfect-fitting boots came into being in a cascade of waterfall pink energy. complete with what looked like a child-size rapier and what could only be described as a cute leather-like cloak fastened with an ivory clasp carved and enchanted by our grandmother herself. When it wasn't a clasp it was a brooch, bracelet, or ring. Green and silver ripples of energy ran from my neck down and my expression came into being leaving my messenger over my shoulder, daggers in both my hands.

On the ready and unsure how or why this stranger had entered our home uninvited our essence lashed out at this person standing before us but as it reached him the rush of power just split around him and like the wind against a bolder. The house opened a small portal that absorbed the energies. Before us was a hooded figure covered in filthy cloth that seemed to be an expression in taters. He stood about six feet tall, medium build with slight shoulders, one grime-covered hand shot up to pull his hood back, and the other came out in front of him. exposing his face, equally filthy with facial hair ungroomed for months if not years. "Wait, wait, wait....it's me! It's Steven!" No one spoke for moments, silence hung in the air, and even the house seemed to be holding its breath. A roar of wind and shaking of the house, the lights flickered on and off, doors and windows opened and closed the walls of the house rolled like waves. House reacted with the same surprise we had. Steven was finally home!

Shock doesn't even start to cover what I felt, Steven, Steven had been gone over a century! We tried scrying, we tried telepathy, we tried divination, and we hired a private tracking troll, best known for his bounty hunting but Geoff would take any job. He was crafty as crafty could be. Any means magical and mundane was tried to take our brother down and nothing worked. If it hadn't been for the family sigil we wouldn't have known he was alive. Above our fireplace, there was a slab of stone native to the Fey world, on it was carved a sigil, seven gems sat at the end of every line, each gem a different color and each one shed a gentle light as if a small spark of flame lay deep inside it. If one of us was in danger the gem would burn bright, if one of us was hurt the gem would flash. None of us had ever died so we didn't know for sure what would happen but we all assumed the light would go out.

"Steven, you look horrible! What by the Gods happened to you?" I asked in a voice hardly more than a whisper. Standing before me was the brother I had loved for more than three thousand years. What was in my mind was a strong, youthful man in his prime. A man, always willing to help his family, to help strangers in need, to help the mystic creators that were a daily part of our lives even before the spell that transformed us. Instead, this tired, weak-looking man stood before me, he was caked with dirt and mud. His hair, once short, brown as if chestnuts and hazel, had ground together only to become fine curly locks of hair, now hanging past his back and to his bum. His almond eyes were brown as the deepest wettest of Earth defined by tiny sparks of gold flakes sprinkled around his pupils.

Still himself he was weak and frail and his very being was streaming with darkness, with anger, mostly with pain. What could have happened to him over 120 years that would have changed him so drastically, what could have taken away what 3000 years of life couldn't?

House was fast to respond, bringing up a table, a wingback chair for Steven to sit on, a fireplace next to him already roaring with fire and cakes and tea at the ready. All of it happened without us noticing until the chair was truly under Steven to sit in. We had also been moved away from the entry of our home to a more comfortable sitting room that I hadn't seen before. "Thank you House," Steven said weakly while grabbing a seed cake and cup of tea. Steven ate gingerly as if his fingers were tired as if his hands were forced to move through the thick dense air. He bit slowly into the cake, a small bird-like bite. The tea on the other hand he was drinking in gulps like a man returned from the dry desert, or a long-lost sea voyage that left him short on water for weeks at a time.

I looked around the new room we were in and saw books and art that Steven had bought or created ages ago, things from our childhood that I and our family thought were lost to the ages of time. Some thought even beyond our magic to bring back from their unknown places, yet here they all were in this small sitting room that House suddenly manifested as if it knew every line of the room, every curve of a window and door. Normally it took House several evolutions of space to get it just right. Here were complete shelves and low rows of tables, drapes in deep greens, tans, and autumn oranges. The walls were covered in intricate patterns of constellations, and small rows of clouds hid the stars and moon in dotted blocks at random intervals. Bottles of tinctures preserved roots, and potions flowing in wisps, fuming, glowing, and churning were in groups on the shelves and some of the tables. Broken into groups lined on either side by books or scrolls. House knew this room. It wasn't a random whim or creation of its own. This room had been designed thought out and worked in but I didn't recognize this space, with its nooks and cranny spaces laden with treasures of ages past. "Where are we?" I asked. Though who I asked it to was more in general than directed. It felt familiar but not known. "This is my private, private study," Steven answered casually. As if a private, private study was something everyone in our household had. In the lead, the head of the house didn't have a private, private study. I had hidden places, spaces for me alone, even a couple of places I hid precious things but nothing like this. What had Steven been up to over the years leading to his disappearance?

"How long have you had this private space hidden from us?" I asked Steven. "More importantly what have you been doing and what is all this stuff?" I realized only after saying it that I had more demand than asked. I was just so caught off guard. House had never kept something like this from me, from any of us. What were the two of them doing behind our backs? As I looked around the room I felt myself shift my essence and change into my true form. I grew four inches, my hair was white as fresh snow, my skin pale as moonlight with the blue ribbons that criss crossed our family's skin like a jagged net revealing itself. We hid our fey form from the world, wearing our human bodies even when just at home. Transformation can be slow and some of us have slower reflexes than others. Mainly the youngest three of us. Diligence just didn't make it the distance of the twenty years separating the eldest of us from the youngest of us and those three had almost exposed us on more than a couple of hundred occasions.

Our exposure was less of a risk in the early days. The early read of course means the first thousand years. Magic wasn't so far removed from the world as it had been during the latter 2000 years. The risk grew exponentially in the last 100 years. The advent of cameras, film, radio, newspapers, microphones, videos, telephones, cell phones, cell phones with cameras, and internet access. They had all made it hard for the magical world to hide in plain sight of humans. Where there was a typical Troll, Elf, or Drawve colony within throwing distance of humans were now abandoned miniature villages that looked like toys and lost models to humans. What was commonplace became story, myth, and legend as human settlements turned into villages, then cities, then metropolises. Human advent sprawled and just as animals were displaced large cultures of humans and magical creatures alike started to assimilate or retreat. Some magical creatures married into humans, giving rise to Fey-born bloodlines among the mundane. Historic figures, artists, musicians, actors, and even political figures that stood out more than others tended to be from Fey bloodlines and silently we became part of the dominant cultures of the Earth. Our privilege made it all the more clear that those of us that held sway in the human world made it all the more important that the outlying creatures of fey who decided not to retreat past the veil but to stay hidden here in the now human world, all that much more important. Though our family had fey magic from the beginning we had mundane blood in us as well. Though grandmother argued that we were more Fairy than human, the spell that created our long lives and brought House into our world bound us even deeper into the magical world. It caused us to develop distinct human and fey forms. Our magic was even stronger, more potent in our fey form than humans. It was almost unrivaled by anyone or anything that we ever encountered in our human form. Our individual magic in fey form was unparalleled and combined was only outmatched by some deity figures throughout human history. It was for this reason that we pledged to care for the magical worlds of Fairy as much as we helped progress, heal, and influence the human world. We saw early on that humans did little to care for nature, let alone the beings that they displaced with never-ending expansion. If only humans understood balance and reproductive responsibility. Instead of being responsible the major religion made birth a prerequisite to joining or having faith in its directives. So humans outpaced fey generation after generation. We invested what resources we had as a family and placed barriers on our twenty acres of land long before humans forgot about our magic and kept the stories of hauntings and odd events up just enough for people to be wary of our lands. In the converse of it, we hosted large barbecues and special events on our land as often as magical duties permitted. It did a great deal to keep humans less aware of our timeless passage.