Post by Theo Bowre on Sept 17, 2011 11:25:53 GMT -5
(Continues from Mending the Pieces)
The first rain of September pelted the London alleyways, filling potholes and uneven cobblestones with a growing layer of water. Those witches and wizards brave enough to weather the fall storm shrugged within heavy cloaks and beneath large umbrellas. By contrast, Theo Bowre was grossly unprepared. The beater's well-worn boots sloshed through the muddied streets and while these extremities remained dry, the same could not be said for his clothes, which clung cold and wet to his muscled frame. He had only a t-shirt and jeans, his hoodie remaining behind at St. Mungos, wrapped around his little brother O'Faerlun's deathly form.
Theo had considered slipping in to a shop to purchase a change of wares but thought against it upon seeing a newsstand with animated headlines from the Daily Prophet. He remembered his encounter with his nephew, Ryan, on the Knight Bus. Today's news left him with little comfort. In the hour since he last departed St. Mungos, word had spread of a critical Curse Kameren and Ralin O'Faerlun arriving at the wizard Hospital...of Jack's condition being under careful observation by staff.
Things will get much worse before they get better.
Theo wrapped his arms around his middle, shuddering against a growing wind. Why had he left? His heart ached as he replayed the image of Jack's limp form and Ralin's ravaged body in his mind. They needed him so badly and he had been a coward to depart. He thought on the glances from the Black Watch. Did he have a choice to stay? Theo turned onto an empty street and quickened his pace. He had no idea where he was heading.
Jack. With Mosrael's demise, there was a chance that his beloved brother's torment would be over. After all, how could he be controlled if the one who taunted him was dead. But a small part of Theo could not believe in such a miracle unless he saw Jack for himself. He had held on to Jack's hand, refusing to let go while his brother lay unconscious. Having been forced away by medical staff, he had no way of knowing if Jack's fate had been spared. Careful observation. Jack would most certainly be provided a security detail; it was a given for every Minister of Magic. Theo only prayed that they could keep him safe as he oversaw his other responsibility, and that was Jack's kids.
Theo's attention was so occupied by these thoughts that he failed to recognize the quickening pace of footfalls behind him. His first indication that something was amiss came when two hooded figures arrived on either side of him, closing the space between them so that Theo was hugged between their bodies. One of the figures towered above him while the other was only moderately taller. Hands wrapped around each of Theo's biceps and he was suddenly pulled right through a cruddy old door within a stone wall. The beater had no time to protest. The larger of the figures spun him forward and forced him in to a chair with heavy hands. The other went to lock the entrance behind him.
The darkened room revealed nothing, until the hoods were pulled back under the murky blue light that flooded through the grime-lined windows. Theo's face froze. His voice stuttered out beneath his shivering.
"D-d-d-a-a-d-d? T-t-t-o-m?"
"My God, Theo. What the hell happened to you boys?"
The first rain of September pelted the London alleyways, filling potholes and uneven cobblestones with a growing layer of water. Those witches and wizards brave enough to weather the fall storm shrugged within heavy cloaks and beneath large umbrellas. By contrast, Theo Bowre was grossly unprepared. The beater's well-worn boots sloshed through the muddied streets and while these extremities remained dry, the same could not be said for his clothes, which clung cold and wet to his muscled frame. He had only a t-shirt and jeans, his hoodie remaining behind at St. Mungos, wrapped around his little brother O'Faerlun's deathly form.
Theo had considered slipping in to a shop to purchase a change of wares but thought against it upon seeing a newsstand with animated headlines from the Daily Prophet. He remembered his encounter with his nephew, Ryan, on the Knight Bus. Today's news left him with little comfort. In the hour since he last departed St. Mungos, word had spread of a critical Curse Kameren and Ralin O'Faerlun arriving at the wizard Hospital...of Jack's condition being under careful observation by staff.
Things will get much worse before they get better.
Theo wrapped his arms around his middle, shuddering against a growing wind. Why had he left? His heart ached as he replayed the image of Jack's limp form and Ralin's ravaged body in his mind. They needed him so badly and he had been a coward to depart. He thought on the glances from the Black Watch. Did he have a choice to stay? Theo turned onto an empty street and quickened his pace. He had no idea where he was heading.
Jack. With Mosrael's demise, there was a chance that his beloved brother's torment would be over. After all, how could he be controlled if the one who taunted him was dead. But a small part of Theo could not believe in such a miracle unless he saw Jack for himself. He had held on to Jack's hand, refusing to let go while his brother lay unconscious. Having been forced away by medical staff, he had no way of knowing if Jack's fate had been spared. Careful observation. Jack would most certainly be provided a security detail; it was a given for every Minister of Magic. Theo only prayed that they could keep him safe as he oversaw his other responsibility, and that was Jack's kids.
Theo's attention was so occupied by these thoughts that he failed to recognize the quickening pace of footfalls behind him. His first indication that something was amiss came when two hooded figures arrived on either side of him, closing the space between them so that Theo was hugged between their bodies. One of the figures towered above him while the other was only moderately taller. Hands wrapped around each of Theo's biceps and he was suddenly pulled right through a cruddy old door within a stone wall. The beater had no time to protest. The larger of the figures spun him forward and forced him in to a chair with heavy hands. The other went to lock the entrance behind him.
The darkened room revealed nothing, until the hoods were pulled back under the murky blue light that flooded through the grime-lined windows. Theo's face froze. His voice stuttered out beneath his shivering.
"D-d-d-a-a-d-d? T-t-t-o-m?"
"My God, Theo. What the hell happened to you boys?"