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In case you didn't catch that:

This short piece contains information that reveals secrets about the nature of Rahn's immortality. On top of that, it's not very long or very good. You may want to pass over it completely. However... I wanted to write it. Good or bad, I wanted to see it on paper. So to speak. Since I did go to the trouble of writing it, I decided to post it. Bear several things in mind, however. I'm still working on the world of Icereach and the way this conversation occurs between the king and his biogropher is probably not the way the characters will learn the truth. Names are subject to change, etc. If you're a gamer nerd like me, you'll recognize the need to a fundamental set of rules to base your character's abilities on. If I ever turn Icereach into a furry themed module, I can always come back and say, "Here's where it all started!"

All that said, I do hope you enjoy this little miniarette.

---

"Explain it to me."

"Explain what?"

A pause hung in the air. This is as good a time as any to describe the pastoral scenery. It's a lot less interesting than the two males between which such heavy silence hung, but has to be done. Perhaps it's interesting enough in its own right. No view of the valleys nestled by Icereach's tricorn peaks should be ignored, not in the summer at least. Those of a particular bend of mind might find the ice choked flows of winter beautiful in their own way, but for now winter is a long time in coming.

Chances are, if you're reading this, you're not immortal; there are very few of them, after all. You probably don't know a whole lot about how they spend their time, at least not yet, so you will be spared the guess work. King Rahn of Icereach, among a plethora of other interests and talents, shares a very special love of wildnerness husbandry with his equally immortal partner. Understand that, when you look upon any stretch of land in the mountains of the King's domain, it has been sculpted by two pairs of hands working in harmony. As it should always be.

Some of the changes are obscenely obvious. Rahn has a private sanctuary high in the side of a mountain that he has somehow altered into His own private stretch of desert. He does not explain how. Most are so obscenely subtle that you would wonder the point of such a change. There assuredly is one. One of the burly great dane's less appealing characteristics is that he is always right. Three thousand plus years of experience and a super genious level I.Q. be damned.

Where... Oh. Yes. The big meadow. It appeared somewhere just below park run to riot to the new comer. A big back yard to a house long ago consumed by the forest, maybe. To someone more familiar with the king's immortal beloved, it was the highest art of craft. Clever paths ran seemingly nowhere and everywhere between impossibly thin screens of high altitude decidious trees. You, dear reader, would say that it's impossible for anyone to dissapear completely in such a poorly constructed labyrinthe that almost always only ever led back out. I will not disabuse you of that notion, for it's only possible in one place.

One path, however leads towards the center-the big meadow. Here the trees change. Birch-like staves that grew in clusters, shedding silvery skin, their thick intertwining branches here and there dotted by white stars. Those flowers are called Mattus' Blossoms, silky white on the outside bleeding to scarlet in the center. There is no large body of water nearby, but the hardy grass is always thick and grey-green. Cunning drifts of wild flowers bloom in mounds here and there, but perhaps most especially in locations where the view through the trees allowed a view on a cloudless day of the three peeks and the castle itself, impossibly high up. It is the most gentle of places and a wonderful gift. It perfectly reflects so much of Rahn, a king with no surname.

Let out your breath, dear readers. The exposition is almost done and I fear there will be terribly little to follow. Our conversation will soon resume and it will reveal quite a bit, but the information within is far more important than the nuances of their inflection. Mostly. For now, the blindly white and bitterly blacked great dane turned his impressive muzzle to one side and arched a brow. It crested above the oddly greyish splotch around that eye which was, as always, blue sky over fields of shiney ice. Devon, a mildly handsome brown river otter, American style, turned his head as well. The king appears to the muscalid in his mid twenties, with a body of tempered steel over thick, soft pelt. The otter, conversely rolling towards late middle age and with the beginning paunch to prove it, is an author, not a head of state. He will soon be a famous one. Take it from an insider.

"You've kept me here for three years now with tales of your life. We're finally coming to the end. I still don't understand your... Longevity."

"There is a lot to understand."

Devon choked out a sound that came across as strangled frustration. Instead of giving him the normal incomprehensible stare, the canine's jaw split in a tremendous grin. The paunchy brown river dweller beside him grinned in easy amusement as well. They'd grown close. "I understand what you do with your time. I can... Uh, dig it, right?" The otter had grown up in the right time period for the slang, knew it would tease the big dog just right. Tickle his funny bone, as it were, though by now Devon was well aware Rahn kept that just below the belt line. "I need to know how you got that time, and I know it wasn't an herbal suppository of immortality* administered by a wandering lion scholar."

Rahn's cheeks blew out in a snorting whuff, the peculiar little laugh of amazement only he was capable of. "Leo is many things and a shaman among them, but not even he can grant eternal life. Why do you want to know, Devon? It's not something that can be given, except in one rare instance that is proving... Beyond troublesome."

"Sand and Sara," the otter replied, a negating shake of his head. "Yes, I've read over that chapter several times. She opened not just one or two but seven new channels and merged them with three of the major streams." He didn't quite shudder but only just. He could never experience those things viscerally or the fear they engendered but he'd heard quite a bit on that particular subject, as well. "No, I would never want that. I guess I had still hoped.."

"I'm sorry, Devon. For all the love we bear you, neither of us can make you immortal. Rest assured, we can and will support and cherish you the rest of your natural life in any way you ask of us but, it will be only a normal life span." His amusement had faded, replaced by the serious mein his grave chops were more accustomed to. Floating down from the airy blue, the dane's massive paw carressed the otter along his rounded jaw line, a lingering touch to be savored. It made the other churr with pleasure. Rahn allowed a sort of half smile, half relenting grimace and looked at some point in the western sky. "Alright. Alright. What do you want to know first, dear?"

"Just start talkin', mutt. You tell it better in your own way that I do."

"Careful with your liberties, sir. I'll have you know I'm the purest of pure breds." But the king smiled again, distantly. Whatever he was looking for, he wasn't finding it. Maybe it was just a way to begin. He took a deep, deep breath and let it out slowly.

"We're all born immortal. Most of us believe it to be a series of genetic mutations that allow us to control our metabolism in ways others can't even dream. The most basic example of this is cellular regeneration. A normal person's body only regenerates a small portion of their damaged cells. Our bodies regenerate everything, from brain and spinal cells to entire limbs."

"That seems simple enough, but you said most. What do the other's beleive?"

Rahn snorted through his nose, displaying a hint of irritation. "They beleive we are the children of gods. Now shush. I'm getting to them in due time." His tone settled once more and he continued his explanation. "And it's anything but simple, thank you. Do you know how the body regenerates?" Devon opened his mouth to explain about high school biology but the king didn't let him answer. "It burns stores of nutrients and converts them into something else. Blood. White blood cells. Liver enzymes. We burn through these natural stores very quickly; consequently, we eat. A lot."

"Three thousand years old and you can still eat that without it going to your hips." The otter curled on his side to tease his partner gently. A devilish grin widened the spray of his fine whiskers. Rahn's face contorted into a grin that said he really didn't get it. Devon coughed and covered his discomfort by throwing an arm across the canine's chest. "So you suffer from an extreme metabolism for your agelessness. That doesn't seem so bad and I've never heard you refer to your gift with unhesitating happiness."

"That's because I'm ever unsure it is a gift, dear. I've lived a very, very long time, and I feel the awful weight of those years and more often. There is more than the appetite and the bad memories, though. There is another price. In the fullness of time, we come to understand the extent of our abilities. We learn to consume and channel what we eat to accomplish new physical feats we were previously incapable of. I don't believe we're unique in this ability... I've met shamans the world over, mostly normal people that have accomplished incredible feats like long life or hardy good health. It's the natural order, after all. We just have a lot more time to examine it."

"At some point, once we've opened enough channels and streams, we enter the Timelessness. Up until this point in our lives our youth is a product of using our own natural resources. Once you become Timeless, however, your body stops. Your brain continues but your body is frozen forever. If you are wounded, you do not heal, though you will not die. It gets worse. The change affects your mind as well as your body. You... Disconnect. From everyone."

As predicted, the otter frowned in confusion and openned his mouth but the dane shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that the Timeless care for nothing but their own affairs and tolerate no meddling. There are seven in the world and guard their power jealously. They are monsterously powerful and for a surety possing knowledge of their bodies we'll never understand. I've seen Bo'got demolish an industrial bull dozer with a few blows. Tremendous, tremendous power."

"Those closing on the transition are hunted down and judged, though the trial itself is just a tradition. All of them are put to death before going over, since the ascension of Leo. I guess our elders learned their lesson there." The king paused and scratched himself thoughtfully here. "You can always tell how close to Timelessness we are. As we learn new channels, our eyes change.The pupils gradually hollow from the edges and eventually take on the shape of a stately hourglass. ------ and I have a long way to go, but if you look closely you can see the Glass taking shape." Rahn paused again and sat up, then cast about for a bottle of water. He chugged the clear draught and leaned back, refreshed and throat lubricated.

"So there's that. For all of it, though, there are incredible benefits. Immortality is the cusp of our abilities; it's merely another very useful channel that is always open. Most of us have learned a myriad of ways to increase our natural intelligence. Some of us heal at extremely enhanced rates. Each of us has our own tricks and no two immortals are exactly the same in this regard. Oh and the wonders of calcium and iron; in sufficient doses, they can increase one of the eternals' strength ten or even a hundred fold. One immortal, given sufficient food, can do the job of a thousand men in nearly the same amount of time."

"I think that covers everything except for the weight of memories, and you've got most of them on paper already." At this the short trance broke and Devon began nodding vigourously. He curled a little closer to the bulky canine and nibbled on his bottom lip. All the secrets of immortality, laid bare before him. What else did he want to know? Oh, yes... The Timeless.

"Tell me about Leo, and Bo'got, and the crocodile posing as a God of the Nile. Ahkesh, right?"

Rahn shook his head saddly, and finally turned his gaze back to the Devon. "No. I can't tell you about them. For the same reason I've asked you to omit my partner's name from whatever of this you choose to publish. Protection. That's not a battle I'm ready for, not yet." With that he fell silent. The great dane remained that way for most of the rest of the afternoon. The aging otter accepted it for what it was and tried to enjoy what time he had left.