There was a knock on the front door. Home early, Natalia wandered through from the kitchen to open it.

"Hello, Mrs Wilde." The visitor was a ruddy-haired professorial sort; freckles, glasses, mild-mannered politeness. "My name is Darren and I am the senior guidance officer at Mirrorvale High. Our admin office left a message on your voicemail that I would drop by, I hope I'm not intruding."

"It's Ms Wilde." She shook his hand, still in work mode. "My son hasn't been misbehaving, has he?"

"Misbehaving, no, but I would like to speak with you about him. May I come in?"

"Of course."

She opened the door fully so he could enter, and walked ahead through a little foyer section into the lounge. A door to the left led to the garage, while to the right was a unwalled transition into a combination dining area and kitchen, and then a hallway to the bedroom area.

"Would you like anything to drink?" She sat at the dining table, and so did he. "Hot or cold."

"No, thank you."

"Okay." She smiled. "So, what's the trouble."

Darren studied her for a moment, taking stock of who he was talking to. Natalia Wilde was an attractive woman; long chocolate brown hair worn loose, pleasingly symmetrical facial features and a natural air of class. She was 5'9, with a fresh-faced youthfulness that could have passed her off as Torsten's older sister instead of his mother.

Curious.

If he were not so involved in much more important matters, Darren would have found enrapturing such a lady an idea worth entertaining.

However, many things were left by the wayside, never to become reality.

"Torsten's behaviour has been ... erratic, recently. I don't wish to alarm you, but have you noticed anything different in the last few weeks?"

Natalia sipped her tea, the steaming mug waiting since just before Darren's arrival. Her brow furrowed as she thought. "Yes, actually. There's not been much, but he has seemed ... a little different.. My job keeps me very occupied and my son is independent and knows how to take care of himself, so I haven't thought anything of it. He's a teenager and hormones do things to the mood at that age."

"Yes, indeed. Though, again, there's no cause for serious concern, but I have legitimate worry about his welfare." He glanced around the walls, scanning for any family pictures or similar. "Does Torsten have a male role model in his life? A family member or close family friend?"

"No." She shook her head, mug now in hand. "His father and I divorced years ago. There was nobody else, except for his grandfather." She frowned. "I'm sorry, but why is this important?"

"Ms Wilde." Darren leaned forward ever so slightly, and with a subtle invisible thrust, his will magnified. The persuasive tendrils of suggestion took hold and a luring force, the ushering hand of mental coercion, pulled and guided. "I believe the root psychological cause in his behaviour is very likely related to the lack of a strong male presence in his life. It would be highly relevant to discuss Torsten's grandfather. We should do that, don't you agree?"

"I, uh ... " Natalia trailed off, not sure what she was thinking for a moment, then found herself cooperative, almost automatically an instinctive concurrence. It wasn't entirely what she wanted, but this man was only helping, wasn't he? He had Torsten's best interests at heart and it was wise to simply help him. "Um, yes. We can do that."

"Good."

"They were close, though he died when my son was young." She breathed out, a huff of air, remembering. "We loved him. Terry was my father, but ... he was more like a friend to me. He never coddled either of us, but he did give encouragement whenever and wherever it was needed. It's funny how someone can be distant and so caring at the same time. His work took him all over the world, and he still took the time to call or write, no matter where he was."

"What did he do?"

"He was a geologist, employed by some federally mandated program that took him on exploratory digs to places in Asia, Russia, and Africa."

"It sounds like he saw some exotic locales." Darren focused, and the charming insistence twisted, nudging and pulsing toward a new conclusion. "A job like that must have brought back some interesting stories and fascinating ... artifacts."

"I- ... I think so. A lot of it is gone, but I gave the most meaningful things he left to Torsten; there were diaries and some keepsakes. Let me see."

She stood, leaving the kitchen towards the bedroom section, then not more than a minute later was back again, a box in both hands. She placed it on the table, opening to extract a smaller wooden box from within, followed by a stack of papers and journals. Natalia nodded to the secondary box. "He kept a lot of notes on his travels, and also loved to collect rocks of all sorts. Some of them were worth nothing, others a small fortune."

"Would you mind?" He indicated to it, a soft genial smile, enticing.

"Of course not." She slid it carefully across the table and he took it. The surface was lacquered and inlaid with several different types of wood; admirable and beautiful. He carefully hinged it back, revealing the contents for inspection.

A generous variety of stones were present; precious, common, and many others in between, shapes and sizes assorted, until he saw ...

... it.

One of the things that Darren desired.

Smooth, nearly flat, it was blue and close to translucent. The artificial light of the kitchen glinted off the surface of the sapphire, and he could not stop himself. Nearly breathless, barely believing that he was close enough for it to happen, he began to reach out. Slow, careful, he extended a hand into the box and picked it up.

The revelation was like lightning.

Information flooded his senses, and in a blink he was above, the world swirling absently in his energised consciousness, then it pounced. Closer, faster it spun, everything zooming and super quick, clouds flying and blurring, land and sea and air in a tumult, and then ... then ... it finished, and everything was at rest, and ... he saw it.

He knew it.

Pinpoint, razor sharp, knife-edge, absolute and unquestionable.

Darren's power was engaged; his purpose fulfilled.

Triskeleth.

There was a knock at the door.

Natalia stood, but before she could reach it, the door opened, and an elderly lady teetered in. Emerging through the foyer, silver haired, hunched, she had a measuring cup in one hand and a questioning look as she entered.

"Oh, hello dear. Making a strawberry shortcake and I ran out of sugar." She peered at Natalia first, and then at the visitor over her spectacles. "Who is this? It's an odd time for guests."

Darren stood, pushing the chair back, placing the sapphire back into the box as he did, with deliberate obviousness to the newcomer.

"Yes," he murmured, glancing with some whimsy back to the pile of papers and journals on the table. If only. "I suppose it is." Then to Natalia: "Thank you, Ms Wilde. You've been very gracious."

"Um, it's ... no problem?" Confused, she looked at the box's contents, not comprehending why he was choosing to leave without any further examination, then back to the man in front of her. "You're leaving? Has this helped?"

"Oh, it has." His look to her was congenial and then he turned, the same expression cagey and deviant to the older woman. "It's been very useful."

"No reason to tarry." She was small, old, but the intent and the hostile agency was crystal clear. "If you've got somewhere to be, don't wait on us."

"Wouldn't dream of it. After all, the season is waning." The contempt and disdain was hidden, masterfully, from Natalia but not the old woman. "Time is wasting."

"Then you must go."

"I am." He strode to the foyer, pausing only to turn and address his host. "You've been most kind, Ms Wilde. I hope to meet you again, in a better time."

Then, with nothing more to say, the magnitude of his transgression completed, Darren opened the door of the Wilde household and walked away.