Alyra and Ryvre

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Alyra

    The first time I ever saw Alyra, she was sitting on her bed. I have a double image of her. She is simultaneously sitting upright, looking defiant, and slumped over, half fetal, looking like she had been crying. Up until that moment, she had just been "the girl" but as I stood looking at her, I had a hard time continuing to think of her in that way. She was tall, with long raven hair, and looked older than I did, physically. (Granted, that would not have taken much, as I had been a teenager when Juan found me.) Even sitting, she had an imposing air about her. I mused that she would have made a terrific public speaker.
    I remember sitting in a wooden chair beside her bed, trying to make light conversation. She returned only short, clipped answers. I could tell that she was suspicious of me, so I avoided making jokes about her sire. I could also tell that she instantly sized me up as a fluff brain and a know-it-all. She informed me that she had written a book, and had given a number of lectures on it. Behind her words, I could hear, "I'm not a child, you snotty little half-wit." I'm not sure what I said to cause that reaction, but it was utterly unintentional.
    The book's title was something along the lines of "Greca Roma" As the title implies, it was a book about Greek and Roman cultures, and the impact of their practices on the practices of modern pagans. I'd read it, and told her how much I loved it, and even attempted to make conversation with her on that topic. She seemed impressed that I was knowledgeable on the subject, but I got the feeling that she was waiting for an insult or something. I think she thought that I was bragging. I extended an open invitation for her to come and help me with some research that I was doing, and she thanked me tersely. It was a very stressful meeting, all in all.
    Surprisingly, Alyra did take me up on that offer. I remember the room in which we worked very clearly. It was a library someplace in the basement, with a glass door leading in, a small reading area that consisted of a single table and a few metal folding chairs, and the rest of the room consisted of halls and halls of books. Most of them were very old, and had a certain priceless old book smell to them, but also one could smell that they were not very well tended to, and that they were covered with dust. The floor was simple cement.
   When Alyra arrived, her sire came to drop her off. I had a good deal of trouble getting him to leave, but I assured him that the books were not going to molest her, and that she would be fine. After a time, I think he realized that I meant it, and decided that sitting around while we talked about "that ritual nonsense" was simply the most painfully boring thing he could fathom at that moment. Even after he was gone, Alyra stood by the end of the table, looking like someone was going to shoot her out of a cannon, or shoot her, period.
    The next month worth of nights sort of merge together as one. We made significant headway on some sort of a spell or ritual that we were researching, and Alyra slowly became more comfortable with me. Torel stayed less frequently each time he dropped her off, and would even occasionally send her by herself. I learned that her name was not actually Alyra, and that she hated being called that. (probably because, at that point, she hated everything that had to do with the order)
    What struck me most about that time, were the things Alyra would let slip about her sire. What she told me left me horrified and enraged. I began to piece together a picture of Torel which was not at all flattering: an obsessive compulsive, abusive psychopath who had blood bound his own child for the purpose of crushing her spirit. My bemused lack of respect for Torel smoldered into absolute hatred. I wanted him destroyed, and talked myself into believing that this would be best for Alyra as well. I could not help but think of my own sire, and how grateful I would have been if someone had destroyed him. I began to formulate a plan...

Unfortunately, damnably, I cannot remember what my plan was! I only know that it required a lot of preparation, and that it involved political ties as well as physical destruction. At any rate, we had finished our ritual in the meantime. More on that to come.