Patched
4 - Seeing the Past
Ace rubbed a hand across face and paused the action in the mirror before him. This was a tedious process, and if he weren’t able to watch it at rapid pace, he would go stark raving mad. He slouched back as much as he could in the nasty uncomfortable chairs that the Muse of History insisted on. He thought briefly about changing it to something wide and squishy, but he had already suffered through one tantrum from the girl, another and he would cause her bodily harm.
Much of Joxer’s life was unpleasant to watch. Healer or no, he felt the need to string Joxer’s father up. And his mother that woman - harpy - wasn’t fit for fodder. This was not helping him any. He sat up to start again just as Strife flashed in amidst black sparks and smoke.
“Hey Ace, find anything yet?” Strife asked, spinning one of wooden chairs around and sat straddling it to face the other god.
“Not yet, Strife. I told you this might take a while. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.” Ace sighed, “Other than a shitty set of parents, all I have learned about Joxer is that he is a triplet. One brother is Jayce and the other is Jett. They are full triplets though, no soul-splitting phenomenon. It’s too early to tell if there is anything else unusual about them, but I know that presently Jett has the title of ’King of Assassins’ and Jayce is a rather successful performer. I wish you knew more about his history. When exactly did you start keeping tabs on Joxer?”
“He was maybe fourteen or fifteen when he left home. He set one of his father’s encampments on fire in his wake. Big power kick off that, got my attention. That was a decade and a half ago. He is one of my favorites Ace, and if he hadn’t been dedicated to Ares as a child, he would be one of my most prized followers. As it is, the only reason he isn’t now is due to Ares’ possessiveness over his warriors. For whatever reason, Ares won’t let him go, but he is very important to me,” Strife leveled a hard look at Ace, eyes flashing with emotion.
Ace held Strife’s gaze before nodding solemnly. He would do whatever he could to help Joxer. “I was about to start again, if you’d like to stay. A second pair of eyes would be most welcome,” he said. Strife shrugged and turned his chair to face the mirror. Ace gestured at it and the scene before them started again. They watched in silence as a six-year-old Joxer played in the corner with a toy made of sticks and bits of rag, singing softly to himself. Strife slowed it down so they could understand the boy. Strife felt a pang in his heart when he recognize what would become Joxer the Mighty’s song.
A woman came into view screeching at the child for disturbing her. Strife creased in confusion, he was sure that wasn’t Joxer’s mother but he did recognize her. “Who is that, Ace?” The God turned to him slightly puzzled over the question, “His Mother, Ellice.” At Strife’s wide-eyed look Ace paused the mirror again and turned more full to face him. “What? Strife?”
“That’s not his mom. Joxer’s mom is Keres, tall buxom redhead. I’ve seen her.” Strife points at the woman in the mirror “That is not her.”
Ace looked between the mirror and Strife before speaking slowly, “But it is Strife, I watched her give birth to the boys. I don’t know who the redhead is but that is without a doubt Joxer’s birth mother.”
Strife shook his head a bit “I know her,” he cocked his head to the side and studied the woman. She was willowy with long dark hair piled high and spilling down her back. “There was a girl at my temple. It was storming outside and she had come in to get out of the rain. She was soaking wet and shivering. She wanted shelter but had nothing for offering, so she offered herself. I was bored and she was cute; all big eyes and dark hair and there was definitely something wicked about her.”
Ace sat back, his mind ticking over this new information. He thought about Strife when he was younger and how Joxer looked now and he saw the resemblance. “When was this? How long ago?” Ace demanded eyes bright with discovery.
“Thirty years or so.” Strife answered comprehension coming slowly. “And Joxer is twenty-nine, there is a chance he could be -”
“Mine. Tartarus, he could be mine.” Strife looked shaken. He stood suddenly, “I have to go, have find out” and flashed away.
Ace sat and stared at the mirror before him jaw slack with shock. This was certainly surprising. He blinked rapidly, Very surprising. Ace shook himself, coming out of his daze. Well it explained Strife’s interest in Joxer at least.
Ace jerked back at Strife’s sudden reappearance right in front of him. Strife grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his seat, “Come on, Ace. What’s taking you so long? You have to test Jox,” and flashed them away.
Joxer was lying in the grass enjoying the feel of the fading sun. His shadow companion curled next him. They whispered of change, of something coming. They told of a dark presence that smelled like home. They warned of choice that must be made and sadness at being left-lost once again in hidden memory.
Joxer rolled over, covering the shadowed form with his own. Cradling his friend close he shushed and soothed, the protector instead of the protected. Around them the reedy song once again played calming them into sleep.
A/N
The names I chose for Joxer’s Moms are actual Greek girls names. See:
KERES: evil spirits
ELLICE: devoted to God
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