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[r.] I know you will follow me until kingdom come [18+]

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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

It was with spry anticipation that Briery listened as Elias explained the new concoctions that he had brewed for her benefit the night before. She listened and took the one with the red lid, holding it like it were some sort of Holy Grail, despite how he explained its shortcomings. But for Briery, someone who lived in the moment, it was more valuable than gold. “Understood. I will use this one sparingly; but if it can prevent me from sitting out or canceling a performance, then that is just what I need. I owe you one, healer; and I hate owing people. Here.”

Turning, she lifted the seat of the settee that wasn’t occupied. Beneath it was a carved wooden box, from which she withdrew a handful of coins in a pouch, and handed it to Elias. At the healer’s rather snide comment that he wouldn’t accept ‘dirty money’ earned by ‘unsavoury means’, she frowned, and shoved the pouch into his hands, anyway. “You have my word that this money is ‘clean’; strictly from what we’ve earned from performances for the past few months. So you can rest easy with a clean conscience.”

Slamming the box shut, she lowered the top of the settee, and sat, folding her arms, a rather serious look on her face. “You’re right to judge people like me; and I won’t lie, not all of our money is honest. In the beginning, we were hard off, and I was incapacitated for too long each month to be of use to anyone. Winters are especially difficult; sometimes, we are lucky if we’ve earned enough to have a single meal per day. So, yes, we have stolen, and we probably will again. Our ongoing goal is to make it possible that we do not have to. And every year, the more fame and recognition we gain, the easier it becomes to avoid that contingency plan.” There was truth to her words in the mere image of her troupe; like Cwenha and Rycen, Briery, while fit due to the nature of her occupation, was on the thin side, which showed in her high-cheekbones and impossibly small waist. It was difficult to see the same in Lautim, simply due to his size and muscle mass.

“But, do not be so quick to judge our current way of life, when you don’t know where we have come from.” The acrobat’s mood rapidly shifted to one more quiet and somber. She lowered her voice. “When we found Lautim, near the bounds of Mollengard, he was a slave, forced into physical labour. Whether it has to do with what he experienced there, or something that occurred before, I don’t know, but he has never uttered a single word. I myself wonder if he even has a voice. He found his freedom with this way of life; it’s his own choice to exhibit his strength, not an order under threat. And that isn’t even the worst of it.”

Picking up her own mug of tea which had been largely forgotten, she took a sip of the now tepid liquid. “Cwenha was still a child when we found her; without a home, and selling her body to make ends meet. She was barely a person… just some hollow thing with a pretty face and no vision for a future. I promised to show her more empowering ways to use her body to earn profit, and she agreed to train on the trapeze. It was only afterwards that I learned she had such a bewitching singing voice. Now, Rycen…”

Briery snorted and shook her head. “He was in jail for repeated theft. I won’t try to defend him. But between the two of us, we started this troupe, and he learned to use his knack for deception in far less harmful ways. I’m not telling you this to garner pity; just to give you a better understanding of why we are where we are, and why we are what we are. Just a bunch of misfits that don’t know anything better than to dazzle, amaze, and confound. In a way, I think we were made for each other. Missing Links that all found a place on a strange and misshapen chain.” She made no comment as to her own origins, so either she found it irrelevant, or more likely, she didn’t feel like discussing them.

“Anyway. Now that you’re a little more enlightened, I won’t waste your time with any more sad stories or moral justifications.” Turning to Alster, who vaguely explained his method, and then Elias, who let her know how he would follow up, she indicated a still-hot kettle sitting atop one of few surfaces with any space. “There is a basin under that table; I’d pour the water and let it cool before dipping your hands in it,” she advised. “It’s just been freshly boiled.”

Taking a breath, she moved over to allow Alster space on the settee. “Not going to lie… I don’t like the sounds of this. But I did say I’d be willing to try anything.” The ringleader said, and let him take her hand. “I trust you’ll be careful; messing around with someone’s insides, by any means, can’t be taken lightly.”

She did her best to relax, something that was by no means an easy task. She couldn’t describe it, but Briery could feel the presence of something foreign entering her body; almost the same way it felt to feel chilled by a disturbing thought. Uncomfortable, but not unbearable… not at first, anyway.

The ringleader started at the assault of a sudden, sharp pain to the left of her lower abdomen, reminiscent of the terrible flare-up she had experienced the night before, but somehow… worse. Like rubbing salt into an open wound. Briery gasped and screamed simultaneously, doubling over in an instant and letting go of Alster’s hand. She couldn’t hear a word anyone said over her own agony and the sound of her blood racing in her ears. She didn’t even notice when Elias intervened, his hand working some inexplicable feat to ease the pain. It took a few moments, but eventually eased, and she was able to straighten up again. Her face had gone ashed, and tears misted in her warm, brown eyes.

“What… was that?” She demanded, before Alster made an explanation of what he had seen, and what he’d tried to do. None of what he said frankly surprised her; the description he gave was entirely accurate in conjunction with the pain that she suffered. Inflammation, lesions… as if the entire organ was near destroying itself. “...well… I can’t argue that that doesn’t sound accurate. About what I imagined was happening inside.” Despite the guilt in Alster’s voice, she didn’t hold him at fault in any way. He’d given her fair warning.

When the Clematis healer was through washing his hands, the ringleader hesitated to comply. “I think… I need a moment,” she confessed, and didn’t realize she was shaking until Daphni placed a new mug of hot tea in her hands. The water and leaves rippled in the small, ceramic mug from her tremors.

“There is no rush.” The Sybaian healer assured her, sympathizing with how shaken she was. Whatever had occurred must have been painful… She wanted to reach out and erase the dark blotches in the woman’s aura, to induce a level of calm that she so desperately needed, but without consent, it would be terribly manipulative. So instead she said, “Whatever happens, you are among three healers, and we won’t leave you in pain.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had this done before; hasn’t hurt me in the past.” Briery said, and carefully sipped her tea until her hands stopped shaking. When she had her nerves under control once again, she placed the mug down and stood, then turned to Elias. “As you can already see, there isn’t a lot of room in here. But I’ll do my best.”

Having sought the help of many healers before, as Briery said, she was no stranger to a manual procedure such as this one. With a little bit of maneuvering (and fortunately, she was flexible, due to the nature of her livelihood), she made it possible by positioning herself on her lower bunk, though what Elias had to say about what he’d found did not come as any surprise; it was the same as before. Scarring, he’d mentioned, which resulted in textural abnormalities. That was exactly what healers had told her in the past; but they would not tell her how, or why, or what any of it meant, because they did not know, and could not speak to the nature of her condition, or whether any of it was related to her pain.

Pulling on her undergarment for modesty when he finished, Briery smoothed the oversized tunic back over her knees. “I could have told you all that, verbatim,” she said to him, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s what they’ve told me before. Though I haven’t any idea what it means, and neither did they. Usually, that is the point where they would give up, and tell me ‘good luck’.”

“It might not be indicative of anything. Some women have abnormal cervixes and they are perfectly healthy.” Daphni offered, trying to compile the information that they’d gleaned. “But, given what Alster has said… I would be willing to be that it is related to the lesions on your uterus, Briery.”

“Great. Wonderful. So, that said,” she folded her arms and arched an eyebrow, “How do I get it to stop?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Whatever the ringleader had going on in her body was rare, not well documented. But lesions did not just occur from nothing, and that her uterus was so inflamed immediately told her that the organ was not functioning properly. Her calm gaze drifted to Alster. “Elias’s knowledge of chronic disease far surpasses my own, so ultimately, I would favor his opinion. But… Alster, if your magic gives you the capability to see what is going on inside, and you are capable of healing by those means, is it possible to heal the lesions that could be causing the painful inflammation? It would pose far less risk than any surgical procedure.”

Briery almost dropped the mug of tea she’d picked up again. Her face was ashen. “You mean, have him do what he just did? Only on a larger scale? How long would that take? I… I don’t know if I could tolerate that. The pain… was too intense. And I like to think of myself as someone who has developed a damned formidable pain threshold over the years…”

“I do realize that.” Daphni nodded, no judgement or reprimand in her demeanor. “Based on your reaction when Alster barely touched the surface of those lesions, I can understand why you’d want to refuse. And, honestly… I’m not sure it would do much to address the bigger picture, even if you did find relief from it, for a while…”

Pressing her lips together, she turned to Elias, knowing that his word and suggestions would ultimately be the most sound--even if they were not always the most popular. But she welcomed his input, especially in a case like this, simply for the fact that she did not want to voice her own thoughts and suspicions on the matter--and she wanted, very much, to be wrong. But if that organ was dysfunctioning to such an extreme degree, and if the disease was so advanced as to leave lesions along the surface of the uterus… was there really a chance it could be reversed? She thought about the performer and her demanding lifestyle. Wondered if, and how, she would ever aspire to have children. And if children were not in her foreseeable future, anyway, due to the nature of her disease…

“Those tonics she’s been taking really have only been addressing the symptoms,” she said as she turned to Elias. “Little more than pain-killers, keeping the inflammation at a manageable level so that she is bedridden less than she would be were she not to take them. But they haven’t actually been doing anything for the nature of her condition. Those lesions, even if Alster were to heal them… they would develop all over again.”

For once, she welcomed Elias’s bluntness, and his vision for saying whatever was necessary, even if it hurt. She didn’t want to have to be the one to suggest the acrobat undergo a complete hysterectomy… That was never a popular solution among women, for a variety of reasons. Even those who did not aspire to have children still drew feminine strength from the fact that they could, if they wanted to, simply for having the working parts for it. And, even those who could not bear children, still drew definition and identity for that which made them women. Though from what she could glean, it was the option seemed to make the most sense.

And she hoped she was wrong.



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
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Before Elias could stay her long-winded justification for their past crimes, the ringleader went ahead and detailed the character of her troupe members. Throughout her bit, which he interpreted as yet another performance, he began counting the coins in the change-purse that she had presented in his hands, feigning disinterest. Why did it matter to him the reasons behind deviant behavior? Such knowledge wouldn’t prevent an innocent from getting pick-pocketed on the street. No matter their desperation, it was not the only path available to them. Reverence of the Eight Colored God may only have reach in St. Thorne, but certain nations were rife with places of worship. Churches, sanctuaries, within which housed benevolent figures more than willing to accept acolytes of the faith. Accepting the cloth was not a decision for everyone, he realized, but the existence of such havens was proof that, were one inclined to follow a righteous, honest life, one would find the means. However, he could agree with Briery on on point. 

 
“You are better together than separate,” he said, clinking the coins, one by one, back inside the pouch. “If the formation of your troupe is the alternative to scraping by at the expense of the virtuous, then I cannot fault you for keeping off the streets. Some lost souls don’t even make it that far, and end up imprisoned, or dead, for their transgressions—however well-reasoned they may be. And though I will maintain my view of your distasteful practice, hawking your unrefined entertainment to audiences who know no better, you are providing,” he groaned a sigh, “a ‘service’ that the populace generally wants. So,” he reopened the pouch and pulled out a few coins, “consider this my donation to your troupe. For attempting, quite poorly, I may add, to entertain me.” He plunked the coins into Briery’s hand, cinched the rest of the pouch shut, and stored it in the farthest corner of his medical bag. 
 
Alster, from his seat on the settee, tried not to blink with surprise at the Clematis healer’s generosity towards an “organization” he actively spurned. Much as he hid his compassion beneath a diamond-hard carapace, Elias was not devoid of care for his fellow patients. No matter the extent of his disapproval, he would not be a healer, or better yet, a priest, if he hadn’t desired to bring forth a just and peaceful world for those who required his help. With a smile to the man in question, he turned his eyes to Briery, nodding his sympathy to her concluded story. 
 
“We can’t always control what life decides to throw at us, especially so early on. You all preserved through your own trials. Through your collective survival, you opened yourselves up to the discovery of each other. While I’m not one to believe too heartily in destiny, and fate, sometimes I do wonder if we’re meant to meet certain people, who are there to save us from a most certain end.” He stroked a flesh and blood finger over the long silver-white etch of his steel palm, his thoughts inevitably returning to Elespeth. His twin star. A destined match, according to Tivia. “It’s apt, then, that you should call yourselves the Missing Links. Together, you complete the chain. And together, you are stronger. I wish only the best for your rise to popularity, and I’ll definitely spread the word of your marvelous feats.” And with a self-conscious laugh, as what he would to say was full of bravado, he added, “I dare say I’m relatively influential, among those who know me.” 
 
Afterward, when the Rigas caster had spread that “influence” of his across the inside of her body to probe and, hopefully, heal, he had skittered away from Briery in defeat, keeping his hands and skin contact as far as the settee would allow. Elias was quick to administer his healing hands over the reawakened area, persistent in his low magical output until the pain, at last, had retreated. 
 
“The method that I used,” he withdrew, to reach for his half-drunk cup of tea, “is to ease the surges of sudden, spiking pain. Alster’s contact with and attempted healing of your uterine lesions caused only a small, localized flare in that particular spot—if I am to assume correctly.” 
 
“You have,” Alster said, face still pale from his expedition. 
 
“If you are about to ask if I can heal your condition with continued exposure to my magic, I cannot,” Elias said, before Briery could answer. “It’s not effective for more than relief for finite pain, such as headaches, fevers, or muscle spasms. And, were it possible, then I would have to adhere to your side as your own personal traveling healer, and I assure you,” he took a noisy sip of his tea, “you can’t afford me.” 
 
While they waited for the ringleader to mentally prepare for the second examination, Alster, at witnessing the tremors that he’d reduced her to in his foolhardy attempt to heal her lesions, he pressed a thumb into his tender, burn-scarred flesh, and slowly twisted it inward. Pain bloomed from behind his closed eyes, but he accepted it without whimper or complaint. It was a small and inadequate punishment for what he’d put her through, but it served as a reminder to himself that he had gone too far. There was such thing as too ambitious; and, despite his piling list of successful healings, he was, in many ways, still a novice. 
 
As Elias dried his hands and pulled on a skin-tight pair of gloves, he returned to Briery, who had since rearranged herself on the bottom bunk. The acrobat had utilized her flexibility to her advantage, almost widening her legs into a half, bent-knee split, for the Clematis healer’s easier access. Slathering a green poultice around his fingers, he gave the woman ample warning, before inserting his fingers into her vaginal opening. Gently, he rimmed them around the outer wall, reading for any dips, depressions, or abnormal bumps from within. Using his second hand, he pressed against her lower abdomen, and surrendered all attention to his tactile sense. He’d even closed his eyes and stilled his breathing, commanding his hand to glide through with practiced discipline. And when he was satisfied with the extent to which he could analyze, he removed his hand, and rose to his feet. 
 
“Yes, textural abnormalities,” he repeated to Briery. And scarring. Paired with the lesions that Alster discovered, I would conclude that they are related to one another. While I haven’t been able to detect such lesions, as Alster has seen along the walls of your uterus, this displaced menstrual tissue is, without a doubt, influencing other areas of your reproductive system.” He pulled off his gloves and disposed them into a cloth sack. “Whatever is occurring during your menses, it sounds as though these lesions are the result of built-up residual fluids that are not shed along with the rest of your uterine lining, resulting in the pain that you experience, as well as the other symptoms which you have described.” 
 
“And Daphni is right,” Alster said, mindlessly prodding along the edges of his steel arm. “Even if I do heal the lesions, even if we do find a way to numb you of the pain and send you to sleep so it’s not an excruciating process, they’ll only return. This sounds like an ongoing condition. The build-up will return during your next cycle, and it will begin anew.”
 
Elias grunted his assent as he washed his hands in the basin. “Fortunately, this condition alone is not a fatal one, so you should be able to live a long life if you care for it properly. However, I cannot say it will be a pain-free life. As for permanent, treatable solutions,” he dried his hands with the rag beside the basin, “there doesn’t seem to be any that I can foresee. Nothing that medicine has thus far come to treat. There is only one method that I could suggest.” He dropped the rag and looked to Briery with eyes that were not entirely cold or distant. In them, they carried a hazel-colored solemnity, aware in the news he was to deliver. “We surgically remove the uterus. Based on the lesions, the vaginal scarring, and the probability of infertility, it would be safest to perform a full hysterectomy, as the entire organ is badly damaged. But surgery is only at a last resort. It’s high-risk and can endanger your life. And importantly—it may not eliminate all of the pain. Going forward,” he packed away his tin of poultice and cloth sack, “I would focus on regulating through pain-reliving tonics, as you have been doing. You are already keeping active, so I don’t need to advise you on that, but I would also suggest you nourish yourself a bit more, if you can manage to with your current traveling lifestyle. That, I’m afraid,” his expression softened, “is all I can tell you.”
 
“I...” Alster began, unsure of himself, “don’t know if we’ll ever meet again, after this, but if we ever do, and you’re near Braighdath at the time, perhaps I could lead you somewhere that may help. I don’t take much stock in it, myself, and I’m not about to get your hopes up, as I did mine, but...all I’m saying is,” he gave a tired smile, “there might still be a solution for you. If Elias can recover from a disease that would have killed him in a matter of days, then I’m sure, whether it’s through the right combination of tonics or something more miraculous, that you’ll find a reprieve from the pain. It’s the same hope that I give myself, on my worst days.”
 
Standing from where he sat on the settee, he returned his prosthetic arm to his sling, his eyes catching the folded silver glint of Cwenha’s costume. “I believe that no one who hasn’t felt pain, on some level, can sing the way that she does. That extends to your entire show, and that extends to you. The delicate but effortless way you move on the trapeze, and dance along the silks. Pain does not define your grace, no, but it tells your story. It is a testament to what you, and your troupe, have surmounted thus far. Your accomplishments, in spite of your trials, are well worth the struggle.” He smiled, knowingly. “Even if we so often wish and pine for an easier life.”  


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

“Right. So basically, I am entirely messed up on the inside.” Briery summarized, not in the least surprised at Elias’s assessment. “My body isn’t getting rid of everything that it should, and it’s fucking me up. So… what, then? If the tonics are only keeping the symptoms at bay, how can I address the problem?”

That was when everyone suddenly went silent. The Sybaian healer couldn’t look at her, the healer with the mechanical arm seemed utterly lost, and the Clematis healer’s expression had gone from stoic and aloof to worryingly… kind. “What is it?” She furrowed her eyebrows and folded her arms, crossing one knee over the other. “Say what you have to say; I’m not fragile. I want to know the truth.”

So Elias gave her just that--the truth, hard and unforgiving as it was. No permanent treatable solutions. Nothing that medicine has thus far come to treat. Her face didn’t betray her disappointment; not even when the Clematis healer suggested the most radical of methods to treat it: we surgically remove the uterus. Fine. That was fine, it wasn’t as though she ever dreamed of having children, since her lifestyle wasn’t one that easily permitted raising a child. And menstruation had always been nothing but a painful, life-altering inconvenience. So let’s do it, then! She almost wanted to say, ready to agree on the spot. Even if it meant missing the remainder of her performances for the week, and spending a painful week of recovery on the road, it would all be worth it to secure a better future for herself and her troupe. One where she would be able to participate one-hundred-percent of the time, without inconveniencing them to fetch her a hot water bag, or new rags when she bled excessively, or having them accompany her when she was too dangerously anemic to be alone. It would have been worth it…

That is, if the Clematis healer himself might’ve believed that it would solve her problems. Except, he didn’t. It’s high-risk, and can endanger your life, he said to her, without offering an ounce of confidence in the plausible solution. More importantly, it may not eliminate all your pain.

Whatever he said after the fact was lost on the ringleader. Something about tonics, keeping active, and better nourishment that didn’t quite register. She turned her warm, brown eyes downward, staring at her lap--at her abdomen, containing broken, irreparable parts. Parts that would continue to dysfunction, to cause pain, to interfere with her routines for the rest of her life.

Briery smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Well, that’s a bust,” she commented, tucking a brunette tress of wavy hair behind her ear. “What’s the good of a chronic and painful disease if it won’t even kill you? Rude, if you ask me. It’s the least it could do.”

“It can be managed, Briery. I’m sure of it.” Daphni offered. She didn’t miss how despondent and disappointed the acrobat was, and with good reason. She was surrounded by three healers, all with differed and varying specialties to their practices, and not one of them could help her. The Sybaian healer had never felt more disappointed in herself. “You’ve been able to get by on tonics that have been failing you; now Elias has created far more potent tonics to make up for what your old ones are lacking. I’m confident that you’ll still be able to lead a relatively normal life. Or, ‘normal’ as according to you, that is.”

It was a pitiful attempt to placate a woman to had every right to be upset. She wasn’t even sure if Briery heard, as the ringleader’s eyes looked faraway, somewhere else entirely. “It just strikes me as so… strange.” She said, to no one in particular. “That there are people like you; healers, who can deal in real magic, who can do the seemingly impossible… and yet, there is nothing to be done for me. Lives on the brink of death can be saved; I’ve seen compound fractures healed in days. But this?” She spread her hands in front of her abdomen. “This is still, somehow, impossible. It’s just… so hard to believe.”

She turned her attention to Alster, who tried to offer hope in his own way. But she was already too numb from the news. “Our troupe is headed in Braighdath’s direction, next, in fact. But if there is nothing that a Clematis healer, a Sybaian healer, or… whatever it is you are can do for me, then I am not sure what hope I have in some out-of-the-way city. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Shaking her head, she stood, and looked between Daphni and Elias. “What are the chances that ripping an organ out of my body will make this stop? Because I’d do it; it isn’t as if I used the damned thing, anyway. My way of life isn’t fit for raising a child. I’d do it in a heartbeat if there was a promise that it would put an end to this.”

“That’s the trouble; there is no guarantee that it would help at all.” The Sybaian healer told her sadly. “If we thought it was worth the risk, we would tell you. But Elias is right; while a full hysterectomy would be safest, the procedure itself is delicate and risky, and it could leader to further complications, unrelated to your defective organ. Just another source of pain that cannot be cured. Of course, it is your body, and the decision is entirely your own. But bear in mind you would need to commit to taking the time to recover.” Which she knew, just by looking at the acrobat, would be a difficult compromise. “My guess is that it would be at least a month before you would be able to perform like you did last night; maybe even longer, depending on how your body takes to the surgery. This is why we stress it as an absolute last resort.”

“I see.” Briery nodded, paused, and looked to Alster. “You’re right; the lesions probably would return. But it’s taken them a lifetime to build. Ever since I hit puberty, at least. Hypothetically, if you were to heal the existing lesions… how long do you think that would give me before it got this bad, again?”

Daphni exchanged an incredulous look with Alster, her eyes wide and mouth agape. “Briery, you about went into shock when he hadn’t even managed to heal a single lesion,” the Sybaian healer said softly, looking pointedly at the acrobat’s hands, which had been shaking in the aftermath. “It isn’t realistic to put you through that kind of pain for such transient relief.”

“I can tough it out. I wasn’t prepared for what he did this time, but if I know it’s coming, I think I’d be better off.” Briery flippantly tossed aside her concern. “Be honest, what do you think the time frame would be? Before it builds back up to where it is?”

“If I had to guess, I would be surprised if you’d made it up to a year before experiencing pain to the same extent that you are now.” The Sybaian healer shook her head. “But the lesions would begin to develop again with every cycle. It might be two months before you start to experience the vestiges of pain. Some months ago, Briery, I’d have been able to have you succumb to sleep during such an excruciating procedure; maybe then, I would tell you that it would be a good temporary idea. But I’m not in a state where I’m capable of doing that, anymore; I’m not sure we could find a safe way to numb the pain while Alster healed you from the inside out.”

In her desperation to have something to take away from all of this, however, Briery held firm. “Like you said, it’s my body. I’ll determine what’s too much for me. If I can get any reprieve whatsoever that isn’t just addressing the symptoms, I’ll take it.” Her eyes softened when she looked to Alster, however, and seemed almost apologetic. “That is, if you’ll agree to it. I’m sorry if I scared you with my reaction. I can suck up the pain a little better if I know what’s coming. At least, think about it? We’re here for a few more days. If you decide you aren’t comfortable with it, then I understand.”

The door of the caravan opened, then, and Cwenha stepped inside She was clad in a simple, muted brown gown; a far cry from her striking, silver costume. Were it not for her pale, white hair, which was hanging loose around her shoulders, she’d have been almost unrecognizable. At first, she seemed a tad surprised to find the caravan full of a handful of healers, but her face quickly shifted to bear an expression of excitement. “How did it go? How are you doing?” She asked Briery, setting down the small sack of goods she’d purchased from the festival vendors.

The ringleader’s demeanor changed in an instant. Gone was that deep-seated sadness, the faraway disappointment in her deep eyes. She smiled, with a lightness to her voice, that confirmed her as a truly formidable actress. “I’m feeling fine. Everything is great. My medically and magically-inclined friends hear have lots of wonderful advice. And, fast-acting tonics to use in case of an emergency.” She picked up one of the red-capped bottles that Elias had given her. “I told you I just needed a day to rest. And there’s lots that can be done, going forward. No more instances like what happened last night, at least not for a while.”

Relief bloomed on Cwenha’s face, and her heart-shaped lips pulled into a grin. “Good. I’m so glad to hear this.” She looked to the three healers and smiled. “Thank you so much for all of your help… It is more than anyone else has done, for us. We--Briery, especially--have always been written off as an unworthy cause, in the past. It has been hard to make people understand we are only trying to get by… and that we need our ringleader to be healthy to be able to do that.”

“It was only a matter of time before we ran into some good apples.” Briery said to her, and put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you know if Lautim is even awake, yet? We need to get the trapeze set up and block out tonight’s performance. I trust the three of you can show yourselves out?” She cast a look over her shoulder at the three healers. One that said she would tell Cwenha the truth, eventually; that there was no hope she could be cured. But not now; not when she was not ready to come to terms with it, herself.

As the trio left the caravan, Daphni walked with a heaviness in her step, feeling more like a failure than she had in quite some time. Even if there was nothing she could do directly to provide the lead entertainer with help, she’d hoped at least that she could provide her with some advice. In the end, they’d walked away empty-handed, and Briery wasn’t in much better a place than she had been before.

“Were we right to dissuade her from agreeing to a hysterectomy?” She asked quietly, seeming to second-guess everything she’d said to the ringleader. “There is the potential that it could help. But frankly… I am not convinced that she would do well under surgery. She might be fit and in good shape, but she’s also visibly underweight from lack of proper and regular nourishment. A body in that state doesn’t make for a good recovery without complications.”

It felt so terribly unfair; that a group of talented individuals wanted nothing more than to get by, and were hindered by the very cards dealt to them at birth. It felt wrong; even when the Sybaian healer knew well that the world was not just.

“There has to be something that can be done. She was right; with all of the magic that this world knows, if people can be brought back from the very brink of death, just like you, Elias, it doesn’t make sense that she should have to suffer such a condition.” Daphni went on, her eyes firmly on the ground. “That there isn’t a way to make her uterus function the way it should...”

That was when she paused, stalling completely. The Rigas caster and Clematis healer were several steps ahead of her before they realized she wasn’t accompany them. At Elias’s inquiry as to what was holding her up, she furrowed her eyebrows, looking deep in thought. “...maybe we are looking at this the wrong way.” She said at last, meeting Elias’s gaze. “She’s experiencing pain from a dysfunctional organ that isn’t working correctly. Removing it is too risky, and there is no foreseeable way as of yet to cause it to function as it should… perhaps we should be focusing on finding a way for it not to function at all.”

At the confused and incredulous looks the two gave her, she ventured to clarify. “The lesions won’t heal because during every menstruation cycle, it irritates her uterus all over again. Maybe, then, the solution--until something more miraculous becomes possible--is to find a way to cease her from menstruating, entirely. If there is no build-up to irritate the organ, the scarring might not go away, but the lesions may heal all on their own.”

There was a bright hopefulness to her eyes at the realization, enough to make her smile. Without warning, she kissed Elias’s cheek. “Enjoy yourself at the festival, today. I have some research to do, and only a few days to find out if this is even possible.”

She turned, then, and headed back toward the palace, not looking over her shoulder to see if either of them would follow.



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
Topic starter  

Not for the first time since gaining full access to his magic without falling apart, Alster was again faced with a situation that his power could not tackle. And again, those words returned to him, like a shaky echo from the collapsing walls of this young woman's broken organs. There are people like you...yet there is nothing to be done for me. She was right, but her incredulity at having been denied effective treatment still buried him, to the hilt, into his own pain-addled arm.

He had done good since bargaining with the Serpent, true. He closed the gateway to death for Vega, and gave her developing children a chance to grow in a healthier womb. That was a result he'd never regret, even though it was only possible by essentially surrendering himself to his childhood monster. But one success did not mean he was living a wholly realized life as a healer. One success did not negate the many failures that would happen were he not armed and ready for all solutions. It was the burden of power such as his own. If it could not help, and heal, despite all his shortcomings, then what good was he, and his long list of past deeds? None of it mattered to the acrobat, if his skills could not lend aid to her specific problem. And in that, he felt utterly useless. He really was the "other" of the three healers. The "whatever it is you can do," would-be healer, donning a masquerade mask that hid nothing of his Rigas features. Everyone familiar with the esteemed family knew that a Rigas was all magic, and covetousness. They seldom deigned to give aid outside of the family, let alone heal strangers with impunity.

Elias, witnessing the slump that had cast wires into the Rigas caster's shoulders in a bid to reel him to the ground in defeat, spoke before he could open his mouth and doubtlessly spout some self-defeatist drivel that would benefit nobody. "Magic is not a cure-all, Briery," he said, his voice firm but understanding. "The more nuanced and complex a patient's condition, the more difficult it is to treat. You must first break all preconceptions you have about magic. It is not a miracle, though I will be first to admit that miracles can occur. They, however, are strictly exceptions, not rules. I was willing to die with this understanding in mind. So, let us look at your situation with the tools that we currently have on the table, all right? No pulling examples of great feats from hearsay or your own experiences. I cannot stress how fortunate you, a mere acrobat, are, to have a Clematis, a Sybaian, and a powerful Rigas caster all at your service."

Alster's otherness was uttered. He nodded blearily to the moniker. He was a Rigas, after all. A family that accomplished nothing but elevating their own status. He could be referred by as nothing else, because he was nothing else. But as discussion again returned to healing her lesions, the question of his capability had curved its way back to him. "I will heal your lesions," he said, with a burst of confidence he wasn't expecting. "If it will stave off your excruciating pain for a while, then yes, it is an option."

Elias gave the over-ambitious caster a pointed look, before returning to the acrobat. "There are drugs that are able to render you unconscious and free of pain. It is a feasible method, but only through the discretion of the caster responsible." Who was all too quick to agree, he thought, with a sour twist to his mouth.

Fortunately, they were ushered out of the caravan after the white-haired acrobat stepped inside, and Briery put on an optimistic act so jarring, that Elias was glad to leave when given the permission to do so. Once the three of them were outside, the Clematis healer whirled on Alster.

"You are too liberal with your promises," he said, in a low grumble of a warning. "Keep in mind, Alster, you are not a healer in name, only by actions that have worked in your favor. A combination of skill, raw magic, and luck, which is not always a reliable formula. You must learn that you can't save them all; it is the first and often most important lesson for a healer." He lifted his bag and reared it backward, tempted to slam the good-hearted caster in the side with it. "I know that you want to help, and you want to heal, and the fervor is an admirable trait to see in a healer. But you will deplete your promises, or make too many. Your responsibilities will grow, and overwhelm, and you will burn out like the Sybaia. You will go the way of the mind. Your compassion, and your propensity for taking things too personally...will end you. But now," he threw a frustrated hand towards the caravan, "you have made such a promise that must be kept, lest you lose all integrity. But know this; you cannot be everything to all people. Choose what is most important...and stick to it."

"I appreciate the concern," Alster replied, in a clipped, sterile tone. "But I only have two modes: I care too much, or not at all. There is no middle ground for someone like me. To remain connected to this world, to prevent myself from slipping into some cold, remotely lived half-existence," an almost serpentine glow emanated from his eyes, "I have to stay all in."

Excusing himself, he disappeared into the crowd, having straightened his heavy gait into long, determined strides. Elias shook his head after the self-righteous caster, and regrouped beside Daphni. "He has a Sybaian spirit; I think the two of you enable each other into forming bad habits. You are both disproportionate in your levels of care, and I daresay it's unhealthy for you to persist." He reached for her hand, a gentle cupping over fingers that felt too cold, despite the mildness of the day.

"That is why I harbor no guilt for dissuading her to undergo a hysterectomy. I am not one to push a patient's safety because I am so moved by their plight that I cannot make rational decisions. If their pain is too much to bear and they want to end it all, I prescribe poison. Not every case has a solution, and that is bound to happen, Daphni. I hope the two of you understand that you cannot do it all, at once. Such things take time, and research. Careful study and planning. Sometimes the patient is not alive to benefit from the results of your research, but it's not all for naught, if others who suffer the same affliction can be saved."

As they began to walk, the Sybaian healer lapsed into silence. When he cocked his head toward her, in concern, she paused mid-step, and an idea passed over her lips, one so enlightening, it gave even him pause.

"Huh. That...is not out of the realm of possibility. In fact, that is quite doable, and--"

But she was already taking off, making a frenzied clip towards the palace. "Hold up!" he yelled, almost jogging in order to keep her pace. "I do not 'enjoy' festivals. Research is far more appealing to me, especially in light of what you have proposed; I am joining you." He gave her a wry smirk. "You are going to need my help, anyway."

 

That evening, after he had completed his prior commitments to Alta, Haraldur, and Sigrid, Alster returned to the caravans behind the stage. By then, the second Missing Links performance had ended, and the crowd was rushing out of the small square. The lingering admirers, mainly of the cherubic singer, had, too, made their departure, and the plank-board stage was dismantled and packed away in the far corner of the troupe's small campsite. With a small bag slung across his shoulder, the Rigas caster arrived at Briery's door. The other troupe members recognized him by sight, and allowed him access to the star performer and ringleader. When she answered the door for him, he dipped his head in greeting--though found it difficult to express the smiles that had come so easy to him, before.

"Briery." He stepped inside the compact house on wheels, having little trouble navigating the cramped spaces, owing to his short and diminutive size. "Cwenha." He noticed the silver-haired singer lounging in the farthest settee from the door, having since shed her glittering outfit for something more modest and comfortable. Briery, too, was wearing the overlarge tunic from earlier that day; by the serene look in her washed, yet still sparkling face (that substance really was impossible to shed), the tonic had done its job in culling the symptoms of her uterine condition.

"How did the performance go? I'm sorry to have missed it tonight. I take it that you didn't experience much pain, this go-around?" At her nod and subsequent detailing of the set that they ran that evening, he set down his bag and began to undo the buckles that kept it bound.

"I know we were only discussing the possibilities of my healing your lesions, and hadn't confirmed a proper time. In that, I must apologize for my impromptu arrival, here. I was going to wait until the morning," but I wanted to lower the chance of running into Daphni and Elias, he thought, but chose not to share. They were unaware of his late-evening call to the caravans of the Missing Links. He hadn't told them, and had thus not received "permission" to proceed. It was wrong of him to ignore the good sense of the Clematis healer, who was, in some ways, his mentor. But he hadn't the time to wait...and neither did she. "But I assumed you'd want this procedure to happen sooner rather than later. I am more than willing to perform it on you now."

Out of his bag, he pulled out a small box, and several vials of an amber-colored substance. "In that box, I have a syringe, which will inject this drug," he showed her the vial, "into your blood-stream. I use this for my chronic pain, sometimes. It's extremely potent, and fast-acting. But it will reduce you to a stupor, and the effects linger for half a day, sometimes longer. That's why I decided to come here tonight, instead of the morning; to give your body time to wean it off. Anyway," he set down the vials, "they are more than effective in suppressing pain, as this drug is often used in surgeries. If you should choose to be unconscious, too," he opened his good hand, like petals on a flower, "I can do that, with my magic. I'll be able to send you into a beautiful dream-state, while I work. This shouldn't take any longer than an hour. So," he looked to her with his careworn eyes, "if this is what you want, we can begin, whenever you're ready."



   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

Elias was right--as he tended to be about many things, Daphni realized. She and Alster really weren’t so different, both in their abilities to heal a person from the inside out, without the need for drugs or surgery, and in their disproportionate ability to care. Even for those who might well be undeserving of it. And because of that, their similarities that drew them toward making promises that they might not be able to keep, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the Rigas caster, as the Clematis healer chided him for his above-and-beyond promises.

But none of that discredited that Elias was correct in his appraisal. Alster, however much he strived to be, was not yet a true ‘healer’. Both she and Elias had spent a good portion of their lives (she, in particular, had dedicated her whole life) to learning their craft, and it was only recently that the Rigas caster had become aware and comfortable in his ability to heal in a similar fashion as the Sybaia. There was still much refinement to be done, much that he needed to learn, and to learn to temper. There was a reason she hadn’t offered to help send the ringleader to sleep while Alster healed her lesions: because she knew her limits, and as much as it pained her, she needed to respect them, or else find herself on bedrest indefinitely by Elias’s orders. Alster, too, needed to learn to respect his limits, and needed to learn what was off limits.

“Neither of us are discrediting what you do as being effective, Alster,” Daphni added, to try and soften the blow of Elias’s words. “It is noble of you to offer to do what you can for that woman. Though I would recommend that you tell one of us before you proceed, so that someone can oversee the procedure and watch out for any danger, either involving Briery, yourself, or the both of you. And not because we do not trust you to do well.” She quickly amended, taking note of the Rigas caster’s already wounded pride. “Just as standard procedure with anything risky is taking place. It would be the same, were it myself or Elias performing it. You never know what can go wrong…”

Whether or not Alster heard any of what she had to say remained unknown. With a dangerous mixture of wounded pride and determination, he stalked off, leaving Daphni in a particularly worried state. “I know he is ahead of himself. But… I cannot deny him his desire to help that woman. Between the three of us, someone should have a solution for her. So,” that very same determination mirrored in Alster’s eyes flickered in her own. It was the first time they had looked so ‘alive’, since she had saved Elias from his own untimely demise. “I am determined to find some source of hope for the acrobat before she leaves. Just because I cannot safely make use of my abilities as a Sybaian does not altogether discredit my abilities as a healer.”

She hadn’t expected him to follow, not when Elias had sounded so convinced that they had done everything within their realm of possibility to help Briery Frealy--and that was fine. He was at liberty to state his own limits and boundaries, and she respected that, although it did not prevent her from making her own choices about limitations. But before she knew it, he was running to catch up with her, taking her by the hand. His fingers felt warm and reassuring against her cool digits.

“Does this mean you have decided not to give up on a band of lowly entertainers?” She raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “There might be some hope for you yet, Clematis. You say that I am negatively influencing Alster with my penchant to care too hard, and too much, but I daresay I am also beginning to influence you. And I like what I see.”

And, once again, he was right: she would need his help, simply for the nature of his expertise. “I know a thing or two about herbs and remedies. But chemistry is not my strong point; not the way these things can potentially react with one another. And I’m not sure I want to be alone in figuring out how to safely cause an organ to cease functioning. So,” she grinned. “Let’s see how long we can safely keep her Highness from noticing we’ve withdrawn from festivities.

 

That evening, the Missing Links’ show went without a hitch. Fortunately, the lead acrobat and ringleader did not find herself succumbing to excruciating pain, and was able to not only complete her breath-taking routine, but to stay for the entirety of the performance. The audience, some new and some from the night before, continued to be amazed and astounded, and for the second night in a row, they did well with the amount of donations that compiled after the show.

It was later that evening, after the performers had found somewhere to bathe, was the glitter off of their bodies, and to change into more comfortable clothing, that there was a knock at the women’s caravan door. Briery answered, her hair damp from scrubbing glitter from it, clothed in the same oversized tunic she had been wearing earlier. For a beat, she appeared shocked to see him. He had made her a promise, yes, but she honestly hadn’t thought he meant to make good on it so soon. Not that she wasn’t pleasantly surprised and grateful, all the same. “

Ah. The ‘other’ healer.” SHe smiled, holding the door wide for him to answer. “And a Rigas caster, if I recall. I’ve heard of your lineage, though I’ve never ventured to beautiful Stella D’Mare, myself. Something tells me that our troupe would not be particularly welcome there, and even if we were tolerated, we would not be making the kind of money that keeps us afloat. Oddly, we have found that it is the richer places who tend to be more conservative with their coin. Then again, I suppose that is how you stay rich, is it not?” She arched an eyebrow. “But that’s beside the point. I did not expect to see you back here, so soon…”

Cwenha, who was sitting on a settee with a book in her lap and a mug of steaming tea in her hand, looked up when she heard her name. Even without the glitter on her face, the paint and liner on her eyes, and the sparkly costume, the singer and acrobat still maintained a luminous, young sort of beauty, with her wide eyes and heart shaped lips. For a brief moment, she looked shocked. “You must certainly have won Briery’s favor, if she is allowing you into our private space after the performance,” she said, shooting an almost accusatory glance at the ringleader. “But to answer your question, it went well, tonight. All of us were able to fulfill our performances, and then some. We even had the time and energy for a final encore at the end.” Her accusatory gaze softened ever so slightly, and she put down her book and tea. “Thank you for your help. I am sure it is because of you and the other two healers that Briery was able to perform, tonight.”

Briery eyed the bag that the Rigas caster was carrying, and ventured to answer, “What bring your back here, this evening? Not that you aren’t welcome, of course. Very rarely do I cavort with any of my audience before or after a show, let alone allow them into my space unannounced, as Cwenha mentioned…”

That was when Alster explained his intentions--to make good on the promise that he had made to her, that morning. She eyed the syringe, and for a brief moment, appeared hesitant to agree. Remembering that sudden, searing pain from that morning, how it felt like it cut through her body like knives… The vials, however, looked promising. And she was relatively small and light; a dosage like that would come close to knocking her out, anyway, she imagined. “All right. We can do this now.” She said with a resolute nod, missing the shocked look in Cwenha’s wide eyes.

“What does he mean, Briery? I thought you said everything was okay.” She questioned, eyeing the syringe dubiously. “I thought you said everything would be fine… this does not look fine, to me.”

Briery shot the smaller woman an apologetic smile, and shook her head. “I’m sorry I did not tell you earlier, Cwen. But they diagnosed that my condition… what is happening to me, is chronic. And there is no cure for it. To make a long story short, my uterus apparently has a tendency to wreak havoc on itself; it’s full of lesions, which seem to be the culprit causing my pain. There is only a vague hope of managing the pain it causes me. But…” She glanced at Alster. “This man, here, is magically adept. He said he can heal the lesions. They will return, inevitably, but at least for a short amount of time, I might actually find some relief… I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Cwenha listened quietly and nodded, her wide, pale eyes illuminating sadness. “We always get our hopes too high.” She said softly. “Every time you’ve seen a healer, with the potential that they might be the one to make all of this stop… but now we know it won’t. We are going to have to live with this, indefinitely.”

“I’m afraid so.” The ringleader told her softly, expelling a long breath of air. “But… we’ll manage it. I will manage it. And I’ll be a little bit better, for a while.” Returning her attention to Alster, and to the promising-looking vials in the brown case. She nodded once. “I think whatever is in those vials will probably suffice. I am not fond of being rendered unconscious, even if it is for my own benefit. I’d rather be semi-aware of what’s happening to me… Forgive me for being a little bit paranoid.”

Of course, she found no judgement from the Rigas caster, who was happy to load the syringe with one of the vials and carefully inject the amber contents into her arm. Cwenha pulled her knees to her chest and turned her face away, too squeamish to watch. “It’s all right, Cwenha; you can look now.” Briery teased, pressing the sore spot on her arm where the syringe had been. Not thirty seconds later, she was blinking rapidly, and slowly lifted a hand to her head. “Oh… you were right. This it… it works… fast.”

“Hey, maybe you should lie down.” Jumping up from the settee, Cwenha moved toward Briery and, with Alster’s help, coaxed her toward her bottom bunk to lie down. Her body was limp, like every muscle in it had ceased to function. “Is this normal?” She asked Alster, visibly concerned. “Is she supposed to be like this?”

“I’m fine.” Briery said to her, her voice airy and languid. “I just… don’t really care about anything. It’s all very far away…”

Pressing her lips together, the singer took a seat at the head of Briery’s bed, where she took one of her hands. “I’m trusting you not to hurt her,” she informed Alster, though knew full well this couldn’t be a comfortable procedure, if he had offered to send her to sleep. “Please, just be careful…”

Cwenha watched with cautious eyes as Alster took Briery’s hand, the ringleader putting up no resistance in her stupefied state. He seemed to go into a sort of trance, holding Briery’s hand in his own flesh and blood fingers, though it didn’t look as though he was doing much at all. Moments passed, before she began to notice Briery stir, her brow furrowing like she was experiencing some sort of discomfort. “Briery? Are you all right?” She asked, holding onto the ringleader’s other hand.

The stupefied acrobat only groaned softly. “It’s fine…” It didn’t look fine, but whatever was happening, Cwenha was too afraid to interrupt it. So it went on this way for for an hour; Briery gripping her hand, breathing through what seemed to at least be a manageable pain, until at last the magic user opened his eyes, and let go of her hand. Briery’s brow smoothed; she ceased her writing, but trembling faintly.

“Were you able to help her? Will she be all right?” Cwenha asked Alster, pulling a blanket over the ringleader’s trembling form. “Will… she be able to perform tomorrow?”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
Topic starter  

When Alster withdrew from Elias and Daphni’s range, his heart was pumping in his temples, drowning out the ambient crowd noise in his ears. His eyes, so open and aware, saw his surroundings with the clarity of a man looking retrograde, certain of the turns of the river because he’d navigated it, before. He hadn’t known why he reacted so strongly to Elias’s admonishment outside of the caravans. The Clematis healer was nothing if not rational and honest, and his lecture was well-reasoned. Alster did not have the experience of a healer, and he was too invested in the lives of strangers. Everything to everyone...that, too, was true. Power branched out of him in multitudinous directions; a tree, growing along with the sphere of his influence. The more he traveled and experienced, the higher the tree extended, and hence, the farther he strayed from his roots—from the home that needed him. And the farther he strayed from her. From Elespeth.

His city, his family—they should have been foremost on his mind. Yet, he was in Eyraille, immersing himself in a festival that was not rightly his to enjoy. He celebrated, he laughed, and connected with friends, and the more he lived in the bliss of a moment, the more he forgot the dying branch of his tree. Despite his renewed hope to rebuild Stella D'Mare in the image that Grandmother Alta deserved, he wanted that future for her. No...for him. Stella D’Mare meant nothing without the people who were capable of creating it into a rightful haven: Elespeth, Chara, Alta...and others who lived on different branches on the tree. Those branches included outsiders, or strangers, outliers he was so desperate to collect, like birds seeking respite from the ongoing storm. They would accept him, if only he gave, and gave, and gave. They would keep him rooted and spare him from the emptiness that, daily, threatened to swallow him into the waiting oblivion of the Serpent’s maw.

Remember why you wanted to destroy Stella D’Mare the first time, the Serpent spoke. He spoke. So they would respect your will. Your power. Freedom from your imprisonment. They could control you no longer. Your power is your own, to do with as you command. Destroy with it, or save with it. No matter what you do, they will rest at your feet. The world is yours.

They would respect him, too. Elias. Daphni. It mattered not that he wasn't properly trained in the ways of healing. He was a magical prodigy. He’d learned to heal flesh wounds at a professional level when he was but a child, long before Elias or Daphni were even alive to consider their paths. He devoured medical texts and remembered everything he’d read, reciting passages verbatim. He understood, and applied, and the knowledge was innate. It lived in him, and he could wield it with an expert flick of his fingers. So then why did he allow people to treat him as a lesser being? Unworthy of existence or consideration? He was Alster Rigas, and that meant something more than mere title or prestige, which was stripped from the body at death. He was not 'other.' He had a name. He was...like everyone else.

I’m human.

No you’re not, the Serpent in him hissed. Not anymore.

I always have been.

You’re striving to be more than human. You are the tree that holds fragile lives upright. ...You want to be a god.

I want to save.

Because if they believe in and worship you, you won’t disappear.

I’m already disappearing.

Because you were never human. Humans die, but gods...they fade when beliefs wane. When prayers go unanswered. What are you doing now, Alster?

...Answering a prayer.

 

That evening, he’d entered Briery’s caravan with somber-faced purpose. Gone was the ease in which he spoke to friends and strangers alike. The personable demeanor that people such as Chara, Tivia, and Vitali considered too infuriating, fawning, or disgusting in its desperation for acceptance...he’d left it outside. He had a task to accomplish. That was all.

“Alster Rigas,” he said, in response to Briery’s mention of his ‘other’ status for the second time that day. “You may...drop the Rigas. That’s not my identity. Stella D’Mare is in shambles, my family remains haughty in the face of great loss, and our riches will soon be nothing but a memory. We are dying, and I, already dead and resurrected as something else.” He shook away the thick cloud that had strangled his ability to speak with at least the illusion of humanity. He took a breath, and tried again. “I’m afraid no circuses will be gracing the dead streets of Mollengard-occupied territory. We had many circuses, in the city of wealth and excess. Maybe one day soon, it will happen again.”

At the ringleader’s agreement to undergo the procedure, Alster immediately returned to the vials he’d set on the desk, beside the case. With care, he removed the sharp needled tool from its cushioning inside the box, showed it to the open vial, and bade it drink the amber nectar like a hummingbird before a flower. “Spread your arm out for me, Briery,” he turned to her, syringe poised in his good hand. “Factoring in your height and weight, I’ve calculated the correct dose that’s required for this procedure. You will feel a pinch,” he clicked his tongue in afterthought, “but that shouldn’t bother you too much.”

After injecting the ringleader through the vein with the liquid, he set the instrument back in the case, and, along with Cwenha, helped her now-limp body into the bottom bunk of her bed. Making himself comfortable on the bed beside her, he took her hand as though it were as precious as porcelain. “I know you said you didn’t want to be asleep for this,” he said, with a soothing whisper, “but try to let yourself drift. It shouldn’t be hard, with the drug in you.” He turned his gaze to Cwenha. “You have an important job. Watch us. If you sense something is awry—if she seizes up, or convulses, or screams from the pain—wake me up. I’ll withdraw immediately.” For the sake of the young singer, he presented her a small, reassuring smile. “I foresee about an hour. If it goes on for longer, wake me up.”

With his instructions properly conveyed, he peered over at the sedate Briery, who’d stilled upon the bed in corpse-like repose. If not for her open eyes, he’d have assumed she was asleep. “Are you ready, Briery?” At her nod, he tightened his hold on her hand, and closed his eyes.

Once again, he found himself traveling through her body, following the beacon that his hyper-sensitive energies could feel. It was in distress; its waves of anguish were plaintive and feral and gripping, and it pulled him towards the source. He didn’t fight, only flowed forward, until he was there, in a dark, dripping, bleeding cave. It wept with black pustules, and heaved, like a cow trying to shed blood flies from its hide. Those lesions were spotted like tiny black holes, cuts of oblivion. If he approached too close, they’d surely suck him inside. But he knew that to be untrue. The lesions were merely wounds needing to be excised. Zap them out of existence.

Electricity surrounded his being. It shot outward, in a steady arc, and interacted with the first lesion. It screamed and fought as it shrank, and shriveled, and died. With every lesion he dealt steady shocks, diligently flitting from aberration to aberration. Once he addressed all of the lesions, he sent outward a pulse of low, humming energy, in an attempt to soothe what he had so willfully attacked. It’s all over now. He sang with the energies, and hummed along to its low frequency pitch. You will recover.

He blanketed the area with the salve of his intent, dousing the residual sparks and the flames. And when he was all done, he swam out of her body, and back into his. Consciousness twitched. Sensation returned. With a slow opening of his eyes, he took in the overbright world, with its garish angles and foreign swirls of colors.

In a brief moment of confusion, he looked to Cwenha, recognizing nothing about her other than a bundle of organs and nerves, tied taut with layers of flaky, porous material. But within minutes, he found purchase in the realm where he’d spent much of his time. Life. Living. It happened here, he reminded himself. You exist here.

Releasing her hand, he stood shakily to his feet, and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. He presented it to the acrobat with a wan smile. “I’ve excised the lesions,” he said, a triumphant glimmer forming in his awakening eyes. “All of them. This should drastically decease your pain for the following cycles. You did well, Briery. You withstood the discomfort.” He gripped her hand one last time and sent her another small surge of magic, to help with the trembling. “You should be able to perform tomorrow. Sleep until then, drink plenty of water, and take your tonic, as you have been. I’ll check on you in the morning, and see how you’re faring.”

 

 

After a long day bouncing between the library and the infirmary, Elias and Daphni decided that sleep was a necessity. For, determined as they were to develop a formula in time before the troupe’s departure, they also needed to operate within the realms of realism, and bodily demands. And, right then, their bodies demanded sleep.

“Do not forget, Daphni,” he warned her, as they cleared their working table at the infirmary of its books, “that you are infirm, and it is still my duty to ensure that you are looking after your own health. Though I’ve humored you in our collective research, please note that finding a 'cure' within days is not altogether feasible. And if this in any way compromises your condition, we are desisting immediately. That being said,” he tucked their borrowed books under his arm and stood from his chair, “I do think we’ve made an admirable start. Conservative though I am, we have found a few leads.”

He offered his free arm to her, which she took as she, too, rose from her seated position. Linked together, they strode from the infirmary and down the palace corridors, en route to their chambers. But as they turned the corner, they encountered Alster heading in their direction. There was a regal bearing about him, an uncommon sight, despite his upbringing. His spine was positioned straighter, his mouth firm and untroubled, and his blue-green eyes defiant in their cool appraisal of Daphni and Elias. Though he presented himself with grace, there still was a certain desperation about him. Something manic, hidden behind his calculated expression.

“I've healed her of her lesions,” he said to the two healers, as he neared them in the corridor. “A few hours ago. I thought you should know.”

“Even when we specifically stated you hold off until you are accompanied by an experienced healer?” He released Daphni’s arm, and transferred the books into both hands. He needed all the grip he could manage, if it would stay him from dropping them in response to the caster’s steady insolence.

“I’ve been healing longer than the years of your collective experience, combined,” he bit, his brow drawing into a glare. “Yes, I don’t have dedicated experience, but I am not nothing, either.”

“Nobody said you were!”

“I healed her,” he said, quietly. “And I’ve shirked nothing else in the process. I’ve been there for everyone. And now,” he lifted his good hand, which cradled the resonance stone, “I will be there for Elespeth. I can do it all, Elias. Because I will not disappear.”

“What are you on about?!” But by then, he was already skirting past them down the hallway, his confident strides looking more like the splaying of some creature possessed inside a human form. It seemed...unnatural.

“The man is already losing his goddamned mind,” he said, clawing his fingers around his small cache of books. “I was too quick to refer to him as a colleague. Not when he is losing all sense of reality. Going the way of the mind, like I said.” With the sad shake of his head, he turned and continued down the corridor, in the direction the Rigas caster had gone. “We need to watch him, Daphni. Especially if he contacts Briery again, and decides to ‘heal’ her entire uterus, while he’s at it. If not us, then someone. Someone who can get through to him."



   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

All thanks to the drug flowing through her veins, the sensation was not like that which she had experienced before. Not that sharp, burning, agonizing flare that had sent her crumpling into herself that morning. Instead, it was like a steady ache, like the pinch of that needle, over and over again; not comfortable, and definitely one that she wished would cease as soon as possible. Almost like a painful itch that no matter how far she reached, she could not scratch.

Fortunately, another effect of the heavy drug was that she did not care as much. Certainly, the pain was at the forefront of her thoughts, but so was the softness of the mattress beneath her body, and the warmth of Cwenha’s hand. From somewhere far away, she heard Alster’s voice: let yourself drift, he’d said, and that was not a hard thing to do. She felt as though she could have fallen asleep if she’d wanted to, but she resisted going that far. The faraway sensation of pain was enough to keep her alert, to keep her present, even if the feeling was so detached she could almost envision that she was only dreaming it.

The acrobat wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed, by the time the pain finally ebbed away to nothing. It was difficult for her eyes to focus, but she could make out Alster’s form as Cwenha helped her sit up, and the Rigas caster handed her a glass of water. She wrapped both hands around it to make sure it did not spill, and even then, she didn’t trust herself not to drop it altogether. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip before passing the cup to Cwenha, afraid she would upset the water. “I owe you more than I can possibly afford to pay, I’m afraid... I cannot put a price on prolonging my involvement with this troupe. Even if it only buys me a few months more, before I must leave.”

“Leave? What are you talking about?” Cwenha suddenly went rigid, her eyes wide as she turned to Briery, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “This is a joke, right? You don’t mean it.”

“If only. But I don’t joke about serious things.” The ringleader’s voice was lazy and drug-addled, but it was no less sincere--and serious. “I am sorry, Cwenha. I tried--they all tried. This Alster Rigas, and the Sybaian and the Clematis healer, but there is no cure for what I have. It isn’t deadly, but it is going to shorten my time in this world as a successful performer. It is only a matter of time before I become too accustomed to the new tonics, as well. It will only get worse from there.”

The young singer shook her head and took Briery’s arm, stroking her hand. “You’re drugged out of your mind… you don’t mean any of this. You can’t…”

“I’m sorry, Cwenha. But I’d have told you sooner or later… you, all of you, need to look at the future of this troupe, without me. Keep at the trapeze; you’ll be better than me at it, in a matter of years.” She offered a small, encouraging smile that did nothing to placate the pale-haired girl. “It won’t be anytime soon. I’ve got some years left in me, with the new tonics, not to mention with that Alster has just done for me. It is not the near future… but most definitely the foreseeable future.”

“You can’t. We are a family. You said that yourself.” Cwenah’s voice was simultaneously soft and sharp; hurt and betrayed on so many levels. “You don’t abandon your family…”

“And family does not hold other family back. Look at all of the shows I’ve had to pull out of; the shows that we have had to altogether cancel. You are as big a star as me, Cwen; in fact, you shine brighter, in many ways. I cannot in good conscience remain among you lot as simply another mouth to feed… someone whose body is too unpredictable to perform. I promised myself that a long time ago. Unless I find a miracle. But,” she shook her head, “the Clematis healer told me not to hold my breath. Miracles are for the lucky; we might be talented, but none of us are lucky. Again, this will not occur anytime, soon. We will figure it out as we go along.”

There were tears in Cwenha’s pale eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Her own shoulders shook with the emotion she was holding in. “Where will you go, then? What will you do, with no one to help you when you are too anemic to get out of bed?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve been lost, before, and I found my way. I always do. You shouldn’t be concerned.” Lifting her arm, which felt heavier than usual, she wrapped it around Cwenha’s small shoulders, and turned her bleary gaze toward Alster. “Time is the one thing you cannot put a price on… and you have bought me time with this family. More time that I can contribute and be useful to them. If you see the Clematis and the Sybaian healer, tell them I thank them, as well. It wasn’t my intention to sound ungrateful, earlier.”

 

 

 

Daphni had ignored Elias’s suggestion that they call it a night, many times over. And it was only when she caught herself drifting off over her books, that she realized it might be time to concede defeat--for now. Picking herself up off of the desk she was slumped over in Eyraille’s infirmary, she sighed and tucked the books she’d been reading under her arm. There was a great deal of information at their disposal; the trouble was narrowing it down, and finding the niches that they so sought to find the answer.

“I think that your idea and my idea of ‘infirm’ differ,” she mentioned quietly, more to herself than to him. But she knew better than to turn down his advice; recognizing Elias for his skills and expertise, while taking care not to bruise his ego (though he would wholeheartedly deny that he had one at all) was a delicate game, indeed. And with the new developments in their interpersonal relationship, with the vestiges of an idea to raise have a child together… Needless to say, the Sybaian healer was learning when it was safe to be outspoken. “I know the tightrope that I am walking when I exert myself, Elias; but I also know when I have gone too far. Can you trust me to pull back on my own?”

She took his proffered arm, just to make a point, realizing that hours and hours of reading and straining to stretch her thoughts in the right direction had made her grow weary and weak. But calling it a night did not mean that she was about to concede defeat to their very short timeframe. “I, conversely, think that this is entirely possible to find a solution before the week is up,” she said, after a moment of thought. “We have everything that we need. All of the documented herbs and medicines and tonics that women have used for decades and centuries as contraceptives. There must be a means somewhere, in there, to take it all from controlling the waxing and waning of menses to stopping it altogether. Purposeful infertility… it has to be possible. And we have the pieces.” Glancing at him sidelong, she smiled sweetly. “Let’s make another day of it, tomorrow. And go into it with the mindset that we will find the treatment that this woman needs. I have grown rather fond of Eyraille’s penchant for positive thinking.”

They were halfway down the corridor, when they encountered Alster Rigas. Immediately, Daphni felt inclined to draw back. Aside from the uncanny wildness in his blue eyes, there was something unsettling about the tinge of the Rigas caster’s aura… something that she could not quite put her her thumb on.

Nonetheless, she offered a kind smile. “Alster. What are you doing up, so late?”

He wasn’t listening; or if he was, he didn’t care. And the news that he shared about shocked her as much as the unfamiliar color of his aura… “You… the acrobat? You healed her lesions?” And without either of them present, to keep an eye on the situation. Without Elias, to determine that he had given her just the right dosage of sedative, and without her, to keep an eye on changes in her aura that might suggest the ringleader was experiencing more pain during her procedure than what was visibly possible to tell…

Elias spoke for the both of them, of course, giving Alster an earful that the caster seemed to have expected to hear. Once again, the Clematis healer was not wrong, but he could not see the odd stirrings of Alster Rigas’s aura, and perhaps did not realize that a more delicate approach was necessary… And it was far too late for her to save face.

Sure enough, he turned away, deflecting Elias’s words in a decidedly defensive manner. Pressing her lips together, she stepped forward, and spoke up before she could think better of it. “You didn’t heal her; you just put off her suffering for a little bit longer.” A harsh claim to make, but a true one, and it was striking enough (especially coming from Daphni Adela, of all people) to freeze the Rigas Caster in his steps. He stood, rigid, in the middle of the corridor, allow the Sybaian healer ample opportunity to clarify.

“It’s the same with Elias’s tonics. She is going to grow immune to her effects; so far, none of us have healed her, Alster. Only mitigated the symptoms. But there… we think there might be a way to eradicate the the problem, even if we cannot cure her of the disease itself.” This got Alster’s attention, enough that he turned around, and she went on. “She suffers because the process of her menses is dysfunctional; her uterus doesn’t act the way it should, and it is too dangerous to remove it. But if she were to stop menstruating altogether, and if there was nothing to build up in that organ to cause further lesions and agony, then the problem will solve itself. And that is where we are at, thus far.”

Expelling a sigh, the weary healer took another few steps forwards, her palms up. “But it isn’t enough. We haven’t gotten far enough in a day to make gains, and the troupe will be leaving with the closing of the festival. I understand your passion to help, Alster, because I share in that passion, as well. It rules us, to the point where we would sooner burn ourselves our trying to heal than to give up on someone. I am determined to find a solution for that woman. But between Elias and myself… so far, it has not been nearly enough. Do you really want to help, Alster?”

She closed the distance between the two of them and met his eyes. “Then help us. Work with us, not without us. You are not nothing; there wouldn’t have been any other way to determine the cause of that ringleader’s pain were it not for your ability to see inside. Exploratory surgery would likewise have been too risky. We know your worth, we know that you are capable of great things, but we do not have a lot of time. Collaborating is our only hope to truly make a difference in Briery Frealy’s life.

“So… what do you say?” Her voice softened to something of a plea. “Will you help us? I am not asking to placate you. I am asking because… because I do not want to suffer the defeat of letting her down, like every other healer she has encountered. And I know that you don’t want that, either. Because you care.”

Watching him finally stride away down the corridor, Daphni’s shoulders slumped, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. “You are allowed to hate me, for that,” she said to Elias, knowing there was no use in defending the approach she’d taken. “But you’re right; we do need to keep an eye on him. Something is off, and the only way we will be able to successfully monitor him is by working with him, not alienating him. Besides… I meant what I said.” She pivoted on her heal and turned to the Clematis healer, meeting his hazel eyes. “I will not concede defeat so easily. And we do need all the help that we can get.”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
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The reverberation of Daphni’s words against the corridor walls ground Alster’s feet to a stop. 

 
“I know,” he said, in so low a murmur, it was almost inaudible. “I healed her lesions, like I said. I made no claim to have healed her for good.” 
 
He remained still and stiff, emulating a statue: a representation of a human; lifelike, but nothing approaching alive. But as Daphni continued to explain their approach for improving her condition, his shoulders twitched, and his feet twisted towards the two healers. Next, came his torso, then his legs. It was a disembodied motion to witness, as though all parts of his body acted out of concord with each other. They simply existed as separate entities, connected remotely to their habitation. 
 
“She’s planning to leave her troupe, in a few years,” he said, his voice a rhythmic drone, too quiet to trigger an echo, or to ripple the world around him. Thin, and tinny—disappearing, as was his claim. “Once the lesions return, and the tonics lose their effectiveness. Performing as an acrobat, having to contend with the pain she suffers...it’s unsustainable, after a while. It’s a tiring cycle. It spins but never stops. No matter how much you try to, you only embolden it to spin faster. And then your head begins to turn and you lose your footing and...” Trailing away, he shook his head, and his body shuddered, like wanting to disassemble from its host. “I have to find myself,” he whispered, to no one in particular. But the words sounded like him. Like Alster, and not the entity that had appeared before them. It was only a fleeting view of sanity, a shooting star that blinked, and was gone before you could even trace its entire trajectory. 
 
“I want to help,” he agreed, with a floating nod. “But do I care? I don’t—“ He squeezed his eyes shut, and his breaths escaped him in short, staccatoed beats. “I don’t know. But the pain needs to end.”
 
And on that enigmatic note, he turned around and ghosted back down the hallway, halfway between a slither and a step. 
 
“I,” Elias began, waiting to speak only when the Rigas caster’s footfalls disappeared entirely, “...am confounded. I do not deal in wounds of the mind, but if my religious background has anything to contribute, it’s that he appears...possessed. He’s shown vestiges of this ‘personality’ before, back when he awoke from his sleeping curse. I personally am in no way qualified or interested in entertaining a madman, but,” he sighed in defeat, “he is a knowledgeable ally, and under the supervision of a Sybaian healer, he is in steady, capable hands. But,” he punctuated this point with a hard “T,” “you are banned from healing any mind wounds, as you are aware. Only one project at a time. Sometimes I even wonder if the case of Briery Frealy is too intense a subject matter for you. I will still attest that too much care, well,” he nodded towards the residual energy left behind by the Rigas caster, “turns you into a liability. And if his emotional baggage is too much for you to bear—and don’t try to hide it, I see you clutching your forehead—you will tell me, and I will either remove you from the source of your pain, or I will remove him. I have my priorities, and they are not Briery Frealy nor Alster Rigas.” He looked at her, and his hard-lined mouth twitched, easing all its muscular tension. “You are the only patient who matters to me right now. Please respect that, Daphni. We will do what we can for the acrobat, but you have already performed your miracle for me. Do not think you have it in yourself to grant another.”
 
“Of course,” he offered a flippant shrug and started down the corridor, “to buy into your Eyrallian modus of thinking, yes, we have collected promising tomes of material. The key now is narrowing down the most effective herbs, their availability to us, the correct amounts of each, the most complementary combinations that will not agitate the stomach nor cause a series of bothersome side effects, and how many bottles we can batch in time for their departure. The work ahead of us is but trial and error. Expensive trial and error.” He opened the door to their chambers with his free hand and waved her inside. “This is why you would never survive as a physician, an apothecary, or even a Clematis healer.” He closed the door behind them and set his books on the table beside the lantern, its wick carrying the will of a weak flicker of flame. “You’re all too willing to provide your services for free. Which may suffice for a healer that does not require tools or components, but with work as time consuming and resource heavy...consider yourself fortunate that we have the run of this palace.” 
 
 
 
 
The next morning, after Elias and Daphni dressed and ate a small breakfast of bread and cheeses, as delivered by the palace staff, they picked up the books on their subject matter and headed at once to the infirmary. Having written down several lists of ingredients and their dosages, they were ready to test out a few combinations. Only, how they could determine if any combination would work, was a mystery. Definitive proof lay in Briery, herself, and they wouldn’t know if the tonic would be effective, because she’d be long gone before they’d be able to analyze the results. And, since her next menses would occur within the week, her uterus was already swelling with the lining it would be preparing to shed. It would not be until her following cycle that they’d know for certain if the formula was a success. 
 
Of course, they could scour the palace for any female volunteers, but again, the same result would apply. Whatever batch they ended up creating would be of unknown quality for at least a month. But seeing as how it occupied Daphni’s mind, and distracted her from the deteriorating status of her own condition, Elias allowed her to hope—within reason, of course. The Eyraillian mentality seemed a good remedy for her, and while he often inputted his concerns for her overzealous involvement in mere strangers, she was faring far better than she had been before the troupe’s arrival in Eyraille. He supposed something could be said for keeping one’s mind busy; it allowed the brain to focus on minute details at a time, in place of the broader picture, which had marked, in black, smearing paint, her imminent death. 
 
When the two healers stepped into the infirmary, Elias faltered. Sitting behind the preparation tables in the back, chatting in low, but carrying tones, was Alster...and Imogen. The latter was wearing a simple dress of blue and silver trim, and her coarse, dark hair was pulled off her nose into a braided bun, in the traditional Eyrallian style. Evidentially, she hadn’t been lying when she claimed her love of festivals to the young king. 
 
Before he could turn around and leave, the conversation ceased, and the two heads bobbed upright, and straight towards him and Daphni. 
 
“Elias. Daphni.” Alster greeted the two of them with a smile. Even from his distance, he could tell that the Rigas caster had “returned” to himself. Gone were the stiff, jerky movements from last night, or the dead layer of skin stretched taut to hide the writhing creature within. The sandy-haired man was cordial, and pleasant, his eyes ocean-bright and kind, sun-kissed flesh alive and glowing with a healthful sheen. Though, beneath his salubrious presentation, he noted the red rings beneath his eyes, and the strain of holding and maintaining his smile, which twitched along the edges. It was...a front. And yet, it was him who was placing it forward. Nothing decidedly foreign or uncertain.
 
It was to Alster he gravitated, making it a point to ignore the woman who sat beside him. Telling, really, that he’d rather associate with an unhinged person over the woman who birthed him.
 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Elias said, moving himself to the side of the table where he sat, where an herbology book was open and at his perusal. 
 
“No,” he admitted, running a hand through his mussed-up hair. “After our...conversation last night,” he frowned, as if he couldn’t quite recall what had transpired, “and after I spoke to Elespeth with the resonance stone, I couldn’t sleep, so I headed to the library and found myself some reading material. I moved into the infirmary about an hour ago, which is where I met Imogen,” he nodded over to the quiet woman to his left, who kept her eyes to the book she was scanning...though Elias could tell she wasn’t reading the words at all. By the wavering flicker in her mirror-black eyes, she was fighting not to look at him. “She told me she was researching a method for magic removal, or magic resistance. I said I only know how to remove magic from a Rigas caster, and as for magic resistance,” he shrugged, “well, you could always link yourself with an otherworldly creature, but I can’t guarantee that it’s safe, or sane.” He laughed, then, a forceful bark that went on a little too long. “Anyway, I told her I was researching natural remedies for the elimination of a woman’s menstrual cycle, which I admit was an odd turn in the conversation, but she seemed to recognize my interest, and offered to help. She says she knows a method.”
 
“Of course she does,” Elias said, his eyes roving over to the woman in question. 
 
“Yes, Elias,” she raised her eyes, challenging him with her twin mirrors. “After I gave birth to you, I wanted to make sure it would never happen again. I did not want to traumatize another son or daughter with my disinterest. So, I researched a method, and I stopped my cycles for my remaining years with the St. Rains. I need only to refresh myself on the correct combination, and I will have the formula.” She lowered her eyes, and planted her finger on a paragraph in the middle of the page. 
 
Elias, stymied into a silence that he commanded to stillness of emotion, was relieved when Alster, sensing the tension between mother and son, coughed and closed his book. “Well, I did promise Briery that I would check up on her this morning. I suspect neither of you want me to go alone?”
 
“You would be correct,” Elias said, with a little too much eagerness. Half-slamming his pile of books before Imogen (who, to his satisfaction, jumped a bit in her seat), he waited for Alster to stand and gain his bearings, before turning to Daphni. “I’ll accompany him. Stay here, and help Imogen recall the missing ingredients, or whatever it is she has forgotten in her old age.”
 
“Elias—“
 
But he was already gone, having swept out of the infirmary with the swift pumping of his legs. With an apologetic look at Imogen and Daphni, Alster bade his farewells and followed the Clematis healer out of the room. 
 
“Poor boy,” Imogen intoned, keeping her moistening eyes to the sentence that she re-read about fifteen times. “So much hate in his heart. I don’t believe he will ever forgive me. Not if he’s anything like his father.” 
 
 
 

 



   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

“Possessed? ...no. I don’t think that is quite right.” Daphni used, her eyes trailing after Alster, long after he’d disappeared down the corridor. “He is still himself; still Alster. But… he is also something other. It makes me suspect that this has something to do with his bond to the serpentine creature that he felled--or, rather, that he sent to another plane of existence, entirely. He has not quite been the same since that event. Somehow, he is more powerful… and also far more unpredictable.”

The Sybaian healer pressed her lips together, knowing full well that Elias forbade her to interfere with the troubled Rigas caster’s mind before he even verbally clarified as much. She did not bother to hide her disappointment, though. “That is the worst part. That I could help him. See into the recesses of his soul that are letting something else in; I could help him navigate it. Except… that I cannot. Because I am no longer strong enough.” She sighed so deep it could have well deflated her. “But there will be emotional baggage everywhere, Elias,  no matter where I turn or how well I keep myself hidden. Haraldur has it, as does Vega. I sensed it in the Dawn warrior and the young King. Even you have it, and instead of talking to me to give it an outlet, you are continuing to let it fester.” That last statement was not an accusation, but merely an observation. “Though I do commend your admirable efforts to hide it. But what I am trying to convey is that emotional baggage alone will not end me. It is a nuisance and gives me a headache, yes, but I only experience it in terms of passive stress. It does not filter through me the way distress does when I exercise my abilities.

“So, no. Neither the case of Briery Frealy, nor that of Alster Rigas, or even that of yourself, is too much for me to handle.” Daphni rested a reassuring hand on his arm. “So let me do what I can, without making use of my abilities. What is the point of remaining in this plane of existence if I cannot continue to impact the people around me, in some way? Keeping people alive without allowing them a reason to live… that is crueler than leaving them to die.”

She did not miss the soft wave of compassion that spread over his features, however. For one who acted so aloof and stoic, Elias’s care was genuine. And when he cared for a cause… he cared a lot. “I respect what you are trying to do for me. And I’ll let you; because being a part of your life has given me an altogether new reason for looking toward the future. And don’t think for a moment that I have forgotten about what you agreed to.” Daphni smiled playfully. “If you change your mind now, I very well may die of a broken heart. I told you before, when a Sybaia makes this sort of commitment to someone, they are all in. Which means you need to be all in, as well. And, in the meantime, while we are fortunate enough to be here...”

Daphni sighed. It was true; it could not always be for free, this process of healing. They were fortunate enough to be able to do it, this one time, but she could tell that Elias was not particularly happy about it. “I can’t dispute that. If it were up to me, ealing would never have to cost anybody anything. But I know that life isn’t like that. For people like you, it costs coin; for people like me, it eventually costs our lives. Just humor me one more time, on this. We do whatever we can for Briery Frealy, and when that is over, continue to monitor the princess’s pregnancy, which will be a far more passive endeavor, anyway.”

She stared at the pile of books on the table. How much would it take from her, if Elias was right? If they could not find the right balance of ingredients, if they could not produce enough of it in time? The Sybaian healer was no longer able to heal others from the inside-out; she wasn’t sure that she could endure admitting defeat to other methods of healing, as well…

 

 

They’d only manage day few hours of sleep, due to a late night and an early morning, but Daphni was ready to continue where she had left off the night before as soon as the sun was up. She’d have made right for the infirmary as soon as she dressed, but at Elias’s insistence, she partook in a small meal, beforehand. Books in hand, they did not expect to find the infirmary occupied by another other than Eyraille’s physicians. Yet there, corroborating over a handful of books, were two people who were apt to ruin the Clematis healer’s morning: Alster Rigas, and Imogen St. Rain.

Alster looked different, today. Or, perhaps it was more accurate to say that he looked ‘familiar’. That kind smile that mirrored in his blue eyes, way he carried himself, the lilt to his voice and the cadence of his words… and his aura. Back to its familiar colour. Whatever had possessed him (literally or figuratively) had relinquished its hold. At least, for now.

“Good morning, Alster.” The Sybaian healer offered a disarming smile, approaching the sandy-haired caster. “We certainly did not expect to see you here, this early. Pardon my observation, but you look rather tired.”

Her comment was followed up by Elias’s less-than-tactful comment about lacking sleep, which Alster confirmed. She couldn’t judge him for it; had she the energy in her, she’d have worked all night. But that wasn’t what caught her off guard; nor was it the presence of Imogen St. Rain, whose presence rattled her slightly more than Alster’s. It was Alster’s claim, and the reason for him collaborating. The Sybaian healer nearly dropped the books she had tucked under her arm.

“You… you know of a working solution that ceases menstruation?” She asked, breathless. Placing the now-forgotten books upon one of the tables, she moved toward Alster and Imogen, the latter who deigned to explain that reasons for which she’d developed such a concoction in the first place. To think that there was a solution, and that it had already long been tried and tested for efficacy… “This… this is wonderful news! Elias and I, even if we’d have crafted our own formula, and finished it in time, there wouldn’t have been any way to ensure its efficacy. The patient we were intending to craft it for… she is leaving at the end of the festival.  We would never have know if it would have worked.”

Daphne’s excitement was so palpable that she almost didn't hear Alster announce his intent to check on the afflicted acrobat and her newly healed (for now) uterus. Not until Elias abruptly announced that he would accompany him. The Sybaian healer knew well that it had less to do with keeping an eye on the Rigas caster, and more to do with the fact he would rather be anywhere but in Imogen’s company. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the Kariji woman, at the sadness in her eyes when the Clematis healer turned away without looking back.

“He has been hurting for a very long time, without allowing it an outlet. When you become so accustomed to a certain kind of pain, you learn to adapt yourself to it. What you see now is how he has learned to adapt. I would offer to help him, if I knew that he would accept…” She trailed off, but the message was clear: she wasn't well enough to heal the wounds that still stung as deep as Elias’s soul.

Glancing sidelong at the pile of books in front of Imogen, ones that she had been pouring over since before Alster had arrived. Research on magic resistance… “What you are trying to do for me… I would never fault you, if you cannot find a solution for what ails me. But if it is at all possible, I think Elias would be hard-pressed not to try his hand at forgiveness. Or to at least start the process.”

 

 

There was a pause after Alster knocked on the door of Briery’s caravan. “Just a moment!” Her familiar voice called, a moment before she answered the door herself. The ringleader still had a groggy, somewhat dreamy look about her, but she was alert enough to smile politely. “Alster--and the Clematis healer. Come in.”

She stood aside to let the two healers inside before closing the door quietly. It was still fairly early, but Briery was alone in her caravan. There was no sign of Cwenha. Briery moved slowly, carefully, taking a seat on the settee. One hand rested gingerly on her abdomen. “Oh--don’t be concerned. It isn't what you think.” She said to them, waving off their looks of concern is with a flippant gesture. “I’m a little sore today--and still a little out of it. But it isn't the same pain I’m used to. Probably just residual from whatever it is Alster, here, was able to do to heal my lesions. Frankly, I’m more concerned about that drug you gave me beforehand… how long does it last? I feel like I spent a night celebrating too hard.”

Beneath her tunic was evidence of mild swelling around her lower abdomen, which was only perceptible in contrast to her typically flat and toned abdomen; not worryingly so, but enough to suggest her body was merely recovering from the trauma of healing her lesions with such aggressively potent magic. Though it didn't seem to bother her unless she moved too suddenly. “What are the chances this will resolve itself before tonight?” She asked. “My troupe is already reasonably cross with my, after my drug-addled confession, last night… Cwenha hasn’t spoken to me, since. She was up and out before I was even awake, this morning.”

For Elias’s benefit, she mentioned, “I’m sure you’re already aware, but your talented friend healed my lesions, last night. I cannot honestly remember most of what occurred, with that drug in my veins… though I do know that I revealed to Cwenha something she was not yet ready to hear.”

The ringleader cast her gaze down to her lap and smiled sadly. “I know I would’ve had to tell her sooner or later, but if I’d known that drug would give me such a loose tongue, I think I’d have opted for you to put me out after all, Alster. I am sure there is a better way I could have shared my future plans. By now, she has likely told Rycen and Lautim, as well. Tonight’s performance is going to be an awkward one, at best.”

Raking a hand through her hair, Briery turned to gaze on Elias. “Like I already said to Alser, the lot of you have bought me time. If this disease of mine does not have a cure, then luck and time are all that I have. Eventually, there will come a point when I can’t reliably perform, anymore. I don’t want to be a burden on the troupe, so when that time comes, it’ll be time for me to part ways with them. I know that they will do just fine without me; I’ve been priming Cwenha to take over on the trapeze for years, now. Though… I don’t think she sees it the way I do. She is angry…”

For a moment, as her eyes strayed, still semi-glazed as the last vestiges of the drug in her system circulated through her veins. At last, she shook her head. “But, none of this is your problem. Thank you, both, for everything. I didn’t come to Eyraille expecting to receive any help; their healers haven’t done much for me in this past. I honestly can’t say I’ve ever had such a fulfilling Equinox festival, and I owe it to you.”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
Topic starter  

Removing her finger from the page, as she was no longer fooling Daphni into believing she was diligent in her reading, she leaned back in her chair, and slumped against its wood backing. “He was always a serious child,” she said, with faltered speech. “And quiet. He rarely cried, or asked for attention. Even when he was so young, he was reserved, and shy of his emotions. I know that I’ve observed it all from afar,” she grabbed a quill pen from the table, running her fingers through the fibers that comprised the feather shaft, “and I fully admit that my...estrangement might have contributed to his development early-on. If I had coddled him, held him to my breast, ladled him with much-deserved attention...maybe he would feel more comfortable reaching out to loved ones for help. But now—he probably considers himself above his emotions; far-removed, and far-affected. Even towards someone like you, Daphni, somebody he trusts, and loves, and desires to keep safe. Even to you, he sees his inner turmoils as inconsequential.”

 
She transferred the pen into her dominant hand and scribbled nonsense words on the parchment before her. “Again, I do blame myself, but guilt will not patch up our relationship. Action will. He respects discipline, intelligence, application, and combining all three into results. He values people who are useful. So I will prove to him that I am, if that will shift his opinion of me. That does not mean I am disinterested in your plight, Daphni.” Her jumbled-together scrawl transitioned into an ingredients list, the above scrambled letters aiding her memory. “As I’ve mentioned before, I have a deep respect for the Sybaian clan, and if it is to help a fellow sister, so that I can help a diminishing civilization from complete extinction, then I will do whatever I can for you. But,” she waved at the doorway from where Elias departed, “if it has the added bonus of shifting Elias’s opinion of me, seeing me as worthwhile, as a colleague and contributor...then I hope you do not see me in a less favorable light, for wanting this, above all, for him.”
 
When Daphni joined her on the now available seat beside her, still warm from when Alster occupied it only minutes ago, Imogen shared her ingredients list, as she’d remembered it, from over thirty years ago. “Now, there are two to three herbs that I cannot recall, but I know that if I saw their names again...” her eyes darted to the stack of books that Elias had slammed on her desk. “Do you mind if I have a look?”
 
Pushing the stack closer to her work-area, she flipped open some books, inside of which a few pages of loose parchment spilled in a pile on the table. Pulling one sheet loose, she positioned it close to her myopic gaze, carefully reading the neatly-printed words. They were of an elegant script, arranged so symmetrically with the parchment that they looked to be measured with a straight-edge tool. “I take it this is his handwriting?” At Daphni’s nod, she studied the notes, rummaging through page after page of promising ingredients, their uses in similar medical cases, and his personal opinions on their efficacy. “This is thorough,” she remarked, eyebrows raising, impressed by what she read. 
 
Then, she paused in her reading when her eyes caught the very herbs she could not yet recount. “Yes!” Her normally quiet lilt was enough to disturb a few of the Eyraillian healers who had congregated near the sick bay. At their pointed glares, she dipped her head in apology, and lowered her voice so that only Daphni could hear. “Yes. This is what I’m missing. These two ingredients right here. And their dosages...he pinpointed the correct amount. If I add them to my list, here...” She madly scribbled on her piece of parchment, nearly threw the quill pen across the table, spattering ink on the clean sheets beneath, and lifted it with both hands, as if she held the formula to immortality. “I am certain that this is what I’ve used on myself, all those years ago. In fact, he may have even improved on this elixir. Of course he would have! He is unfailingly bright. A genius! My son is a genius.” Dropping the sheet, where it floated its way to the table like a leaf to the forest floor, Imogen drew her ink-stained hands up to her face, and cupped them over her eyes. “And...” Her body began to tremble as soft, wispy anguish whistled from her lips. “And I was not there for him. He will,” sharp breaths stabbed through her nose as she wept, “never accept me. No matter what I do. That is his nature. Do feel honored, Daphni.” Her entire form slumped over the desk. “I think you are the only one in this entire world who has captured his heart. He has room for no one else.” 
 
 
 
 
 
It took nothing short of a trot for Alster to catch up to Elias, a feat made more difficult by the dead weight of his steel arm and the pushing of his legs, which, for some reason, had been rendered stiff and sore. As far as he knew, he did not engage in any strenuous exercise, and in the past, he’d attribute it to the hour-long healing session he’d performed last night, but with his resistance at...
 
God-like levels, a voice reminded him.
 
...god-like levels, he should not have been troubled by any physical ailments. Sitting stock-still in a cramped lower bunk for an hour, however, might have been a contributing factor, not only to his legs, but to his cricked neck, sprained wrist, and twisted ankle. He was either a violent meditator, or he was tripping all over the festival grounds last night. 
 
Once he finally reached Elias, short of breath and aching all over, the Clematis healer graciously had slowed his pace to accommodate him at his side. While the two walked, Elias gave Alster a suspicious side-eye. “Are you going to have another reaction today?” 
 
Alster frowned. “A reaction? You mean when I left you and Daphni outside the caravan yesterday morning?” He tugged at the pointed end of his ear, self-consciously. “That was not very professional of me, I realize. Nor was attending to Briery last night, without informing either of you of my intentions.”
 
“Oh, you did. After the fact.” He tilted his head toward the Rigas caster, curiosity in his hazel eyes. “So you don’t remember what you said to us last night?”
 
“Said?” He racked his brain, his eyebrows knitting with concentration. “I...saw you two in the hallway, and I do remember saying that I healed her lesions, yes. And that we agreed to research methods for ceasing Briery’s menstrual cycle. Why?” His eyes squinted, in a sudden twist of distress. “Did I...do something, Elias?” His eyes went from scrunched, to wide with fear. “I did, didn’t I?”
 
Why did he even bother in his attempts to address a person’s mental state? It was not his area of expertise, and yet, he was so adamant in shining unwelcome truths into the faces of the unstable and unsound. “No. No. Nothing at all.” He planted a hand on the Rigas caster’s good shoulder, in hopes to allay the young man’s dread. “You were ranting a tad, but that is not unusual for you.” 
 
Before he could further address the specifics of the night before, Elias pointed to the caravans in the distance and encouraged Alster to go forward and knock on the door. Moments later, it swung open, and Briery greeted them on the other side. Her brown eyes were glazed and unfocused, and her mannerisms sluggish and uncoordinated; she seemed to favor one side over the other as she walked, and her words were slurred, but understandable. 
 
“Hello, Briery,” Alster responded with a smile, ignoring the ‘How much did you give her?’ look that radiated from Elias. “May we come in?” As they were ushered inside, Elias stood aloft, while Alster took a seat on the settee closest to the bunk beds, on the far corner of the caravan. The subject, as Elias predicted, invariably lodged itself on that very concern, as Briery, too, found herself seated and tending to her lower abdomen. The Clematis healer stole a glance at Alster, waiting, with a knowing glint in his eyes, the other man’s response to her question. 
 
“It should resolve itself in a few hours,” he said, forcing a confident smoothness to his tone, though inside, guilt began to reside, and threatened to press on his throat. What if he overestimated the dose, and gave her too much? Even she was doubting him and his ability to contribute ably, he knew it. “I’ve given myself a dose of that nature before. It relaxes you, unwinds your limbs, and yes, it can loosen the tongue. If you tell your troupe you were under the influence of a pain-killing substance, I’m sure they’ll understand. Cwenha, especially, since she was there for your procedure last night. We can tell them, even, if a healer’s word will legitimize your ‘slip’ of the mind. However,” he sighed, and played with the knotted areas of the sling that held his prosthetic arm, “inebriation and a drug-addled state....it filters out our inhibitions, so we end up saying what may be true, but not altogether appropriate. It’s unfortunate that it’s causing tension among your troupe, but not to use the drug at all would have been unreasonable.” 
 
He lifted his prosthesis out of the sling, and showed her the markings where the flesh had been cauterized and grafted to the steel plating. “When I underwent this surgery, I refused the very drug that I used on you, because I did not want to lose my mental faculties.” It doesn’t matter now, he thought, if I’m losing myself without any outside aid. “It was...tortuous. About the worst physical pain I’ve ever endured. Even with localized numbing agents, I was repeatedly wishing the surgeons would bleed me out and kill me already. I, like you, consider myself to have a high pain threshold, but even that surgery...it was too much.” 
 
“Alster is correct,” Elias said, which impelled the caster’s head to swing at him with relief on his tired face, as if he’d been validated for his opinions. “I would strongly advise against an invasive surgery of that nature, without the administration of a powerful pain-killer. Your mouth is not our responsibility, either, so if you had spoken any unsavory words...well, you should have opted for sleep, if you were so afraid of letting leak your dark secrets.” He rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. “As for weaning off the drug, drink your fill of water and have a substantial meal. Stay outside, welcome the sun, and the cool breeze on your skin. If in a few hours, you still feel out of sorts, and you insist on performing, take your tonic, as prescribed, and a only a lick of the red cap for emergencies. Were it up to me, I’d have you bedridden for at least an extra day after such a surgery, but my sound advice will be ignored, regardless, so go forth and injure yourself aplenty.” 
 
“We’re not yet done with your particular case, either,” Alster added, a hopeful twinge to his words. “As we speak, Daphni is back at the palace, along with—“ Elias glared at him, “an...ah, assistant,” he amended, “in order to brew you a tonic that will stop your menstrual cycles altogether. We’ve made steady progress, and we hope to present the complete formula to you by festival’s end. If you’re not burdened by your cycles, then the lesions will be unable to form, and your pain will be greatly reduced.”
 
“Of course, do not yet celebrate your good fortune, Briery. Alster is getting ahead of himself.” Elias shook his head, his annoyance palpable on his sour lips. “We have not yet developed it for consumption, and it would be irresponsible to present you with an untested prototype. I could not, with any level of confidence, ensure that it will eliminate your menses, or render you pain-free and unencumbered by side-effects. This is but a slim possibility, but it is a possibility nonetheless. That is all we will share with you, Briery. You shall know if we were successful, at least marginally, by the Equinox Ball.” 


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

“Ah. Well, so long as I will be able to perform tonight, then all should be fine. Don’t fret, Clematis; if the swelling hasn’t gone down by this evening, I’ll refrain from taking to the trapeze. That costume is skin-tight; if I can’t look good in it, then I’m not wearing it.” The acrobat smiled, but her smile didn’t look ‘fine’. It looked… sad. “To be very honest with you, I have never been under the influence of any such drug, before. It didn’t even occur to me that it would loosen my tongue. But… they were words that needed to be said, regardless. My troupe deserves to know. Just… a different time, and under different circumstances might have been better.”

Standing slowly, one hand gingerly clutching her tender abdomen, Briery moved toward the door, to let the two healers out. The Clematis healer was right; they’d done their job, and their due-diligence by checking up on her, afterwards. She was no longer their problem.

...at least, that was what she thought, until the Rigas caster made another very shocking point. The ringleader turned around so suddenly one would’ve thought she was startled, her eyes wide and mouse agape. She stared intently at Alster, as if trying to determine whether he was merely placating her fragile hopes, or telling the truth. “You… you’re serious? There is still a possibility that this can be… well, not cured, but controlled?”

Of course, the Clematis healer was quick with his rebuttal and brutal honesty. Which, of course, was to be expected; only a few days remained of the festival, and that was not a lot of time, at all…. “I don’t care if it is untested--I’ll try it. I’ll be your test subject. When you have lived with this kind of pain for as long as I have, anything is possible. At this point, I have nothing to lose. But… if you are successful, then I am going to have to make our last few shows count.” Her smile faded, and she glanced at the settee, beneath which the troupe stored their earnings. “As it stands, I cannot in good faith spend any more of our earnings on my own medical care. It isn’t fair to the others. But… I believe in the both of you--and your Sybaian healer. So I will enchant and amaze this kingdom, like it has never been amazed or enchanted before. We will not hold anything back, for the final show.”

 

 

Daphni could only shake her head at Imogen’s attestment to her role in how Elias had grown and formed as a person. Everything that she said was likely true; after all, children, in their move formative years, developed habits that would last them their entire lives, based on the experiences they had. Elias, isolated as he was as a child, and without a mother to teach him how to be soft, and that it was okay to seek a shoulder to cry on, or to cry at all when you were hurt, may have learned a thing or two as a means of coping. His introversion and dedication to his studies had probably resulted by a means of directing his attention away from what was hurting, what was bothering him. But all the same…

“I cannot disagree with you entirely. Any number of things can occur as a child grows; many people believe they become complete, yet immature versions of themselves sooner than they can count their age on one hand.” The Sybaian healer said, watching as Imogen pushed away the book she had been focusing on. Or, rather, hadn’t been focusing on, at all. “And while you cannot reverse what has already taken place… you can move forward, which you already seem to be doing. I can tell, by your desire to make things right with your son. But you must also understand that while you may be able to let go of the past, it is something to which Elias clings fiercely. As if he lets go of it, he will lose parts of himself that he values. That said, part of this process--most of it, in fact, will have little to do with whatever miracles you can craft, Imogen. Whether or not you are able to help me, it is up to Elias to open himself up to forgiveness. But if what you say is true, and I happen to be the only person he cares for…” She offered a soft smile. “Then even he cannot deny that you have come through for him, as I said; that would be illogical, and he is someone who governs his life by logic alone. I would not take offense if your desire to help me is solely born of your desire to reconnect with your son.”

Turning her attention to the list of ingredients that Imogen was jotting down with her quill, the Sybaian healer handed her the book in question and nodded. “We spent all of yesterday and well into the night sifting through these books. Elias has more experience in chemistry and herbalism than I do; he was the one taking notes.” And of course they were extensive and impressive. The Clematis healer did not go into anything half-heartedly, even if it was not a job he particularly decided to do. But now, he was as committed to the acrobat’s cause as she was, and would not leave a task unfinished. It would eat away at his sense of accomplishment. “What we mainly found were methods of contraception, but none which actually prevented menstruation. It is a lot like trying to find a needle in a haystack… All of this information, and its potential, but piecing it together has proved to be a challenge.”

Daphni nearly jumped at Imogen’s sudden burst of excitement. The Eyraillian healers were certainly taken aback, casting annoyed glances in the two women’s directions for interrupting their careful concentration. “What is it?” The Sybaian healer asked. “Did you find something?”

It was wit muted elation that Imogen declared that Elias had already discovered the missing ingredients--right down to the correct dosage. Daphni could not hold back the smile on her face; one of relief and happiness and pride. Of course Elias had figured it out without even realizing it. She had never considered the possibility that he was a genius, but… she could see it, now. The man had answers that he didn’t even realize he had. “This is wonderful.” She said to Imogen, and felt almost inclined to hug the woman. “How quickly do you think we can craft it into a tonic--or several tonics? Enough to last the acrobat some months. We can give her the recipe, to take to other…”

Her voice trailed off the moment the paper fluttered from Imogen’s hands, and the woman crumpled in on herself. “Imogen…” She was hesitant to react, but she did not know why. Had Elias’s appraisal of his mother jaded her own feelings toward her? Or had she simply expected the Kariji woman to be… well, for lack of better words, stronger? That isn’t fair, she chided herself. No one needed to be strong when faced with familial alienation. Pressing her lips together, she lay a hand upon Imogen’s shoulder. “I cannot say that he will ever accept you as a mother, Imogen. That choice is Elias’s, and his alone. But you must understand, as well, that he is a different sort of person, and he does not necessarily share his feelings in the same way that others might. Even I have difficulty reading him, and I am able to see his aura.”

Daphni tried to offer a smile, but it did not console the distraught woman. So she took a seat on a nearby stool, and folded her hands in her lap. “It is beyond me why I mean anything to him, Imogen. I’ve been a perpetual thorn in his side since the day we met. He criticized my practice; he hated me for saving his life. I’ve been his patient on numerous occasions, and despite the… evolution in our relationship, I still am, given my deteriorating condition. And he does treat me as such. It is only in the careful words that he lets slip, and the actions that he takes, that I know he cares about me as more than a patient or a colleague. It almost killed him to be forthright about that.

“So, what I am trying to say is… I do not believe that you will not have a relationship with your son. But it may not be the relationship that you want, or that you imagined. Let him grieve and be angry; it will burn out. You will notice him turning tables when he starts to acknowledge you--and your intelligence, as you said. That is something he does value, and that he cannot deny. So… help me formulation this tonic for Briery Frealy.” When Imogen drew her hands away from her eyes, Daphni smiled. “You said it yourself, that he cares for me. So by that logic, he cannot rightly deny the actions of those who help me, in some way. He knows how much this case means to me, because I cannot safely access my abilities to help the girl… though that does not mean that I will not help at all. I refuse to concede defeat to this.”

As an afterthought, she mentioned, “If you would like me to… I will talk to him. As stubborn as he is, sometimes, I have a way of getting through.to him. But only if you desire it; I do not get involved in others’ affairs against their will.”

 

Later that afternoon, when Elias and Alster returned from checking up on the ringleader, Imogen and Daphni were already well on their way to formulating the tonic in question. It was all coming back to Imogen, the treatment of the herbs and their distributions and quantities, and now that they had compiled a complete list of what they needed, and how much, it was just a matter of putting it all together. The Sybaian healer was just on her way out of the infirmary when she encountered Elias--and she could not contain her excitement.

“Elias! You will not believe the breakthrough we just made.” Before she could think better of it, she all but launched herself at the Clematis healer, and pulled him into a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn’t even notice the rouge tint of his cheeks when she pulled away. “We’ve done it. Imogen recalled the formula and we’ve compiled a list of ingredients. But it was only possible because you had already pointed out two very necessary ingredients that she had entirely forgotten, until she recognized them in your writing. She said… you’re a genius. I am inclined to believe her.”

Without warning, she took his hand. “She has already left to scour the royal gardens for the herbs that she needs. There is a handful of ingredients that we must purchase elsewhere, at local apothecaries. But money will not be an issue. I took the liberty to approach his Majesty about this, and merely told him you and I were working a ‘charity’ case in the spirit of the festival. His Majesty is in good spirits, himself, and agreed to fund it. I wasn’t so sure before, but… now I am. Now I think we can do this.”

Leading him down the hallway, brimming with more energy than she had in quite a while. “I must give Imogen credit that she has been working as tirelessly as I have, just to be of assistance. Whatever you might feel for her, she is a very intelligent woman--and she just took all of the gruelling guesswork out of our endeavor.” Glancing over her shoulder at the Clematis healer, she smiled. “You certainly got your cleverness honestly, Clematis healer. And now… look what we can do. We can literally change the course of someone’s life. If you ask me, this is just as relevant as saving a life.”

Turning a corner, Daphni led him outside, into the bustle and noise of the festival. The bright sunlight didn’t even seem to bother her. “This means that the ringleader may not have to leave her troupe, afterall. You said it yourself--they are their best selves as a unit, together. Like a family. And I will sleep with more ease knowing that we were able to keep this unconventional family together--regardless of what you might think of their profession.”                         



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
Topic starter  

There was something to be said for the contagion of high-spirits. While obnoxious to witness, even Elias was not immune to the shift in the acrobat’s mood. Between her and Alster, whose susceptibility to emotional influence was as sensitive as the Sybaia, the entire caravan, sans himself, was extolling the delights and generosity of the Equinox Festival, in all its wish-fulfilling glory. Much as it irked him, the Clematis cleric was not so petty as to continuously dampen a patient’s hope with the brutal realism, so he allowed her a space from which to celebrate a mere possibility. At least...for as long as he could stand it.

 
“Don’t worry about payment,” Alster reassured her, with a smile to match that of her own. “If we do have the medicine ready for you by the end of the festival, it will be our gift to you. As you’ve so pointed out earlier, I am a Rigas. Noble and wealthy. It’s a common pastime of eccentric noblemen to harbor philanthropic hobbies, and throw their money towards one cause or another. If the Eyraillian king won’t finance the cost, then I will. See it as charity if you must, but I see it as an investment, for the longevity of your talented troupe.” He gave her a playful wink. “What better investment than to the head-runner’s health? I’m sure your fellow performers would agree, that you must remain as a cohesive whole.” 
 
“Yes, yes, this is all so touching,” Elias said, with a dismissive click of his tongue, “And it so pains me to reprise my role as the bad news bearer, but even if we do present a promising formula to you, we could not monitor its effects on your body, with you en route and us a fixture in Eyraille. Any tests or changes in the formula cannot happen without a healer present to observe. Operating as we are on such short notice, the amount of formula we could create and batch for you...won’t be enough to tide you over for more than three or four months. You would have to return to Eyraille, or, by some miracle, find a healer capable of replicating the formula, which I doubt they’ll be able to do, because the lot of them are hacks. And with war already gnawing its way through our mountain borders, who is to say that you would find your way back to us, safely?” 
 
“Let’s worry about that when the time comes.” Alster stood from the settee and wended his way toward the door on the far end. “For now, as representatives of Eyraille, we’d do best to emulate the spirit of positive thinking, Elias.”
 
The Clematis healer harrumphed, grumbled a goodbye, and breezed out the door before Alster could even reach it. Turning his head towards the ringleader, he said, “I look forward to your next performances, especially in seeing this new pep in you. I’m sure it will come through nicely on the stage.” And with that, he followed Elias out the door and into the festival crowd. 
 
 
 
 
 
Later that day, Elias returned to the palace alone (Alster having excused himself for his puppet show commitment, to which the Clematis healer was relieved). It was with dread-laden footsteps that he wandered towards the infirmary, ready for a snake to spring out the doorway in the form of Imogen St. Rain. But who approached him, instead, was a Daphni so chipper and full of elation that she threw her arms around him and captured him with a kiss. Though brief, her assault had left him winded and flustered, and he could scarcely concentrate on the words she’d uttered. 
 
“I-I,” he began, clearing his throat and raising a hand to his mouth, to conceal the red blotches on his cheeks. His lips rolled inward and outward, feeling the residual tingle of her unprovoked attack. “That is...good to hear.” His other hand busied itself fixing his Clematis brooch that was pinned to the collar of his jerkin, though it needed no fixing at all. 
 
His flustered state gave way to shock, however, when Daphni mentioned Imogen’s reference to him as a ‘genius.’ Immediately, he chided himself from reacting at all to a throwaway word spoken by a stranger who couldn’t conceive of a more nuanced description, and so went with the most impactful intensifier in her attempt to win his favor. It would not work. 
 
“Genius? Hm. Hardly. Genius implies that innate talent trumps dedication and diligent study. She merely wants to shoulder credit for my illuminating mind, that I inherited it from her. Be that as it may, I am pleased to hear that the ingredients I’d discovered were what you and...Imogen,” he sounded her name like a curse, “needed for completion of the formula. If you don’t mind, though, I’d like to look at the list of ingredients and dosages that she has compiled.”
 
With a complying nod, the Sybaian healer handed him the parchment. He scoured the reading, grumbling about Imogen’s near illegible penmanship and disorganization. However, it was with a begrudging nod that he approved the proposed ingredients for the formula. “This should suffice,” he said, handing the list back to Daphni. “I saw a few of these herbs sold among the festival proper. While Imogen is biding her time in the garden, I’ll head back out and fetch them, post-haste. That way, you cannot accuse me of putting forth the minimum effort for this oh-so-special acrobat and her troupe of talent-sick buffoons. But if it helps you to sleep better at night, then I will have done my job in providing you with the best of care.” 
 
As they wandered down the hallway, and the subject had lingered on Imogen, his eyebrows knit, but he, at least, addressed the topic, instead of shunting it away or dismissing it altogether. “Imogen took advantage of the education opportunities that St. Thorne afforded her. Also, it is no secret that she, raised from youth as a spy, possesses stirrings of intelligence. And now that she fancies herself as some Thornian diplomat, if she does not maintain her level of intelligence, then she will be nothing but an idealistic fool. But if this formula of hers is any indication...some of her mental faculties are in tact. There,” he affixed Daphni a sidelong glare, “I said something nice about her. She has been helpful and is not yet a waste of a brain. That is all.” 
 
 
 
 
In the final days leading up to the Equinox Ball, Elias and Daphni (along with Imogen, but the Clematis healer acknowledged her only with a nod and a mumbled greeting, which alone had brightened her mood), had gathered enough herbs to batch around four months of formula for the young acrobat. With their combined expertise, they ground and mashed and mixed the ingredients into liquid form, which they’d bottled and lined into a small wood crate. Throughout the process, Alster would pop his head in on occasion, and Elias utilized his help to the fullest—by sending him on herb or book-fetching errands. It was enough that the Clematis healer had “welcomed” Imogen into their team, though he did not converse with her beyond what was necessary to convey. To limit the chaos in his life, he was determined, at least, to keep the Rigas caster at bay. 
 
He was successful, but only because Alster had scattered his duties to every corner of the kingdom and beyond. Between performing the puppet shows with Alta, teaching Haraldur and Sigrid how to dance, and strategizing with Elespeth and Chara in the evenings via resonance stone (with his occasional contacting of Lilica in far-off Galeyn), Alster was too busy to be affronted, and thus too busy to dip into his “alien” persona with the broken walk. 
 
At last, the final day of the festival had arrived, and Haraldur, who had been drinking his fill, both to forget what awaited him, and to bolster him with courage, was pacing the empty room that Alster had requested for dance lessons. The ball would take place that evening, and the weight of what he was about to do finally dawned on him.
 
“This is a mistake,” he said, pacing before Sigrid and Alster on the marble-tiled floor. “I’m no more prepared when this festival began! I can’t dance—not for your lack of trying,” he nodded towards the Rigas caster, “I am not near jolly enough to represent the Green Spirit, and the idea of proposing before the entire kingdom...it sounded like a far better idea when it was farther into the future. And now it’s today.” He stopped, glancing at the green outfit with the embedded veins of gold shining from the light of the gilded wall sconce. It, a patient observer, sat upon its table, innocuous as moss, but as suffocating as moss when it clung to tree limbs and killed all life. “And I am forbidden to drink, by his Majesty’s orders. How will it be possible,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “to pretend that I’m calm, and ‘festive,’ if I can’t even imbibe?”
 
“Well,” Alster scratched the side of his nose, “a little alcohol won’t be too troublesome, since I can’t use my magic to calm you, unless I delve deep into your mind.” Haraldur shuddered at that. “Relax. I wouldn’t dare. Anyway, we’ll make sure you don’t encounter Vega at all until tonight. The less you see her, the more focused you’ll stay to your commitments, and the less driven you’ll be to drink. We’ll practice the dance routine a few more times and, come tonight, I’ll keep close-by to you, in case you need help navigating court. You’ll only need to mingle.”
 
“Mingle,” Haraldur snorted. “Easy for a nobleman.”
 
“It’s not only a ‘nobleman’s’ skill, Haraldur. Be who you have been to these Eyraillians. You’re not lacking on the personable side, so you’ll have little trouble at all.” 
 
“With a little whisky, I’ll fare better.” 
 
“If and only if you need it. Because...you’ll want to remain sober until the end, when Wind and the Green Spirit are obligated to dance. It’s the highlight of the evening, the symbolic welcoming of Spring.”
 
“Again, something Caris could have mentioned to me earlier, seeing as he knows I can’t dance.”
 
“And once the two of you complete your dance,” Alster’s eyes gleamed with vicarious romance, “you fall to one knee, and present your ring to the Wind. People will applaud, and they’ll make sure you have plenty to drink. So hold off until then.”
 
Haraldur rubbed at his elbows, as if combatting a chill. “I think I’d rather face an army of Forbanne right about now.”
 
“Of course you’re going to push back the unfamiliar. Your worries are valid, and relatable, but I assure you, it’s not a battle you’ll be facing alone.” His head turned toward Sigrid, who had been quiet throughout their conversation. “What do you think, Sigrid? Any advice for your cousin?” 
 
“I have advice for Sigrid,” Haraldur offered, his expression transitioning into slate—a marked difference from the restive landslide of emotion from before. “Stop flirting with Vega. You’ve more than had your fun. It’s all you ever do around her, and you’re only making her uncomfortable. You’ll have your choice of women at the ball, and you’re bound to find ones who will be more receptive towards your advances.” And with a frustrated sigh, he added, “I won’t ask again.” 


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

It went without saying that Sigrid was not nearly as concerned about the final night of the festival as was Haraldur. As it stood, the only stress that the Dawn Warrior faced was currently wrapped tightly in cloth, stowed away in its sheath beneath the mattress of her bed, and (luckily) without a need to be used. This trip to Eyraille was as much of a vacation as she had ever had: the sights, the people, not to mention the beautiful women. And one woman in particular, toward whom her ceaseless flirtations had become a running joke, much to the mercenary’s chagrin.

Unfortunately for him, Sigrid found no end to her amusement in it. It was likely to never stop being funny, particularly if Vega was so easily flustered about it.

“What’s wrong, Haraldur? Afraid you might lose your soon-to-be fiancee to my irresistible charms?” She teased, arms folded as she leaned against the wall, observing the mercenary’s two left feet with only thinly-veiled amusement. “Or are you just jealous that I am a better dancer than you? Say what you want about your brute-force fighting tactics, it doesn’t lend you an ounce of grade. You’re like a bull in a china shop. And, hey, I am having my fun while I still can. I am nothing if not an honourable person; and as soon as that ring is on her finger, you have my word that I’ll never make advances on her again. Until then…”

Her mouth curled into a sly grin. “Well… she is awfully fetching when she blushes. Sorry, cousin, but I cannot in good faith make any promises. Look, I went my entire life without blood-relatives to tease and to pick on. I don’t know when I am going to get another chance. Besides, do you really mean to tell me that you don’t like seeing the two of us together, even just a little? Don’t even pretend; I might be a woman, but I know how a man’s mind works.” Her shoulders shook with a light chuckle that she could hardly contain. “Though as for your unease at the prospect of proposing to her Highness before all of Eyraille…”

Sigrid stepped away from the wall, and flipped her tightly-woven blonde braid over her shoulder. “It sounds like you are afraid of the unknown. Thinking about all of the possible variables and outcomes to the point where you’re second-guessing yourself. So, let’s unpack that: what do you know for sure? Do you really think for even a moment that your Skyknight commander will not say ‘yes’ to your proposal?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Clings to you, like she has made you her own. Look at you; you’ve even agreed to let her style you in Eyraillian garb. And did you not see the way she slighted me when she thought that I was making advances on you, simply by being friendly? Really, does any of that really suggest that she will turn down your proposal, Haraldur?”

Of course, everyone in that room knew well that the answer was ‘no’. Sigrid clicked her tongue. “So what are you afraid of, then? What everyone else might think? Because you certainly don’t seem to mind being see with her on your arm. The fact remains that everyone already knows your feelings for her, Haraldur. And this is not going to come as any surprise to them. So if you want my advice…” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t fuck this up with alcohol. Because if someone were proposing to me and I suspected they’d been drinking, I’d sure as hell make them wait a little longer for my answer. But, in the meantime… let’s fix where you are going wrong with this dance. Because that will be embarrassing for you to mess up. Fortunately for you, I’d rather not see you mess up, because believe what you will, but I am vouching for you.”

They tweaked and critiques the mercenary’s dancing for another hour, until Alster had to duck out and attend to the puppet show with grandmother Alta. Whether or not Haraldur felt any more confident than he had before, Sigrid and Alster did lend him all the help that they could in earnest, but the rest was up to him--because there was no time left.

With Vega at his side (he’d been unable to shake her all day, but that was nothing new), they wandered the grounds for the final day of the festival, snacking on foods that would not be available to them until the next year, and taking in the merry sights. It was the most relaxed that Vega had been in a long time, considering its stark contrast to the war they’d fought, and the ongoing struggle with her body and health, which had only recently resolved itself.

Haraldur, on the other hand, was the stark opposite. It had not surpassed her attention, the way he seemed to grow more and more tense, more and more distracted every day. Even now, as they perused the vendor stalls, he didn’t look as though he were actually looking at anything at all; seeing without really seeing. Dazed, in a sense. It was beginning to concern her.

“Haraldur--are you even present?” Vega asked him, her brows furrowed in obvious concern. “You haven’t said a word for the past twenty minutes. If something is amiss, you know that you can tell me. You’ll find no judgement, here.”

Turning her gaze thoughtfully to the ground, she pressed a sigh from her lungs. “Look, I know what is going on. You don’t have to be so secretive; you are easier to read than you think.”

Frowning when she was met with a suddenly startled expression on his part, she added, “It has been obvious all week, what’s been eating you. What I don’t understand is why you haven’t bothered to tell me. Did you really think you could hide it?” The Skyknight commander raised her eyebrows, and reached to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Caris has you all concerned about your role, tonight. Don’t be bothered by it. Listen, the Green Spirit isn’t the ‘great deal’ that he is making it out to be. Yes, it is the entity that characterizes the festival, but you must realize that this is the last night. People have been drinking themselves under the table for days, now; many are going to be either too hung-over or drunk to attend the dance, or too tipsy to really give a damn how well you play the part. Just take your wreathes, throw them at people, and they’ll be sufficiently amused. And you won’t be the only one in costume.”

The princess offered a winning smile. “Every year, it has been my task to embody the character of the Wind; Eyraille’s signature element. In a way, our costumes are rather complementary. I’ll stand to represent the kingdom, and you will represent the coming of a new season; new beginnings. No doubt, that is exactly why Caris asked you to play the part. Think of it as his way of giving his blessing to our relationship. I highly doubt you will ever hear him admit it, outright."

She had no idea just how far from the truth she was as to what was causing the mercenary’s anxiety. But Haraldur only smiled sheepishly and told her that she was probably right, diverting any further suspicion that it could be something other. “Everything will be fine--in fact, I’m sure of it. But if you don’t believe me, why don’t we see what the cards have to say?”

Vega gestured to a booth that was set up near the village square, not too far from the caravans that had brought a troupe of performers into town. A woman clad in tight, shiny gold was conversing with a client in low tones, pointing to a small spread of tarot cards in front of her. The princess furrowed her brows contemplatively. “She looks familiar… come on. Now I’m intrigued.”

The two of them wandered toward the tent, standing back respectfully as the fortune teller finished up her session with an eager, and slightly agitated looking older man. When at last he walked away, he seemed rather defeated. The fortune teller’s pitying gaze trailed after him, until she noted the red-haired woman and the tall man standing just off to the side. She offered them a polite smile. “Unfortunately, it is my job to deliver the bad news just as much as it is to deliver the good news. Though we might like to tell ourselves otherwise, not everyone is particularly inclined to hear the truth when they seek to have their fortune read.”

“Can you really fault them, though? Everyone wants good news.” Vega glanced over her shoulder, in the direction that the man disappeared. “What was he hoping for?”

“Riches. He’s a chronic gambler, and wanted to know when his efforts would pay off. Unfortunately,” she held up a card depicting a woman washed up on ocean rocks, with ten swords protruding from her back. “This is clearly a warning to stop. Though I doubt he will; few actually buy into what the cards have to say, which is a real shame. They can indeed be very insightful. What about you, your Highness?” The golden-clad woman raised her eyebrows, tucking her cards back into the deck, and began to shuffle again. “Interested in drawing a card or two?”

Vega hesitated, pressing her lips together. She glanced over her shoulder once again, in the direction the gambler had left. “You know, I have been having a truly wonderful time at this festival. Everything seems to be coming together after what feels like a lifetime of hardship. If this happiness is only transient…” She looked sheepish, and shook her head. “Then I don’t want to find out, otherwise.”

“Ah, but it is all about asking the right question. Don’t pursue a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer; focus on your happiness, instead. Ask where it will flourish.” The golden-clad woman fanned out her cards, and presented them to the Skyknight commander.

Hesitating yet another moment, Vega took a breath and pulled a single card. It depicted a man and a woman, whose hands were joined with ribbons, while an angelic figure presided over them. The woman in gold smiled. “Well, it doesn’t take a fortune teller to see that your happiness is rooted in your love for someone special. Say what you will, the cards don’t lie.”

A small smile tugged at Vega’s lips, and she seemed to sigh in relief. She was through with enduring bad news, and was reluctant to break her winning streak of happiness. “You look familiar; was it you, performing on the trapeze just the other night?”

“Indeed. I keep my feet on the ground during the day, but I’m in the air by night; Briery Frealy, your Highness.” She offered a shallow bow. “My troupe and I are happy that you’ll have us, here.”

“Ah-ha, I knew you were familiar. I’ve come to see you perform every Equinox, since you’ve frequented the festival.” Vega smiled, and glanced at Haraldur. “Have you had a chance to see them, yet? Their troupe is formidable. You once said that you’d traveled with the circus; they’re well within the realm of your interests.”

This certainly piqued Briery’s interest. Her smile widened. “A fellow performer? Or former-performer; it’s all the same. A pleasure to meet you, ah…” She extended a hand, waiting for him to offer his name. “Haraldur. Well, if you haven’t seen us perform yet, I do hope you’ll stop by this evening. It will be our grandest performance yet, to send off the festival with a bang. If you have time, even come by beforehand. What was your role in the circus? I’d love to see what you used to be known for. We could even find a place for you in our routine, if you’re interested.”

“Hey--could be fun.” The princess gently nudged Haraldur in the ribs. “They perform before the dance, this evening; it won’t encroach on your commitment as the Green Spirit.”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
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Every word that dripped from the Dawn Warrior’s mouth had incensed Haraldur even further. Affixing her with an unamused glare, he planted his feet on the floor and emulated a vengeful, immovable guard, a physical representation of what he’d already harbored toward Sigrid’s incorrigible behavior. 

 
“You’ve chosen the wrong time to poke fun at me,” he droned, crossing his arms over his chest. “There is such thing as ‘going too far,’ and for all your play-acting, you’ve flung yourself into the role, and now you can’t cease for even a minute. If you want to call it jealousy, call it jealousy, if you need a name to my reaction. On my end, I simply call it ‘annoying.’” He uncrossed his arms to roll up the sleeves of his tunic, the dancing and the pacing having worked him into a sweat. “I know you want to bond or what have you, but we hardly know each other to merit you constant badgering. Just...if only for today, do me the favor and stop.”
 
However, she did not, and went on to suggest that he derived a small measure of enjoyment out of seeing her paired with Vega. “No,” was his pointed answer, though it was not very convincing. “I get nothing out of seeing a blood relative getting all grabby with the woman I want to make my wife. Especially when I know you’re doing it to get a rise out of her—and me, in the process.”
 
Perhaps from seeing how her playful cajoling was irking him, such that he thought of leaving the room, she, at last, dropped the subject, and spoke on a more serious note. As she spoke, he unraveled himself, or at least attempted to, by shaking out his arms and flexing his long legs. “She won’t say no; that’s not what I’m worried about,” he said, and had actual confidence to back up his claim. “After tonight, I’ll be considered a public figure. Everything I do, from here on out, has to be carefully calculated. I can’t slip up. I’m representing Eyraille. I’m becoming one of her citizens. That is important to me, and I don’t want to start off erring so terribly that it brings shame to this kingdom, which already needs to bolster its self-image in light of its tyrannical background.” 
 
“Definitely no alcohol then. That’s a start,” Alster said, agreeing with Sigrid’s assessment. “But what you bring up...it’s a legitimate fear. The Rigases were, still are, scrutinized constantly, and I’ve far from escaped that level of scrutiny, myself. Yes, it will happen, but no, you don’t need perfection. Take it from a perfectionist—it will only bring you undue anxiety. Eyraille knows of your commoner background. They also know your status among the refugees you brought over the border. You’re not as doomed to fail as you think. But,” he gestured to the mercenary’s feet, “it will help your cause if you know how to carry yourself on the ballroom floor. And, contrary to what you think, you’re not doing poorly. You know all the steps, but you only need to think with rhythm in mind. It’s not a battle; it’s a dance.” He stood from his chair and presented himself, as would a woman when accepting her partner’s hand. “We don’t have any music, so I’ll hum you a melody. You only need to follow the tempo, and lead your partner.”
 
At the end of their practice hour, with Alster feeling more confident in his protege, and Haraldur, marginally allayed, all three dispersed from the room to each attend to their own affairs. Despite his desire not to see Vega until that evening, the Skyknight commander sought him out with all the ease of a child who cheated at hide and seek, and knew exactly where her quarry was located. And with her insistence that they explore the last day of the festival together, he was in no state to disagree.
 
They didn’t wander the streets for long, before Vega sensed his diffident behavior, which had left him taciturn and locked deep in thought. He blinked out of his trance when she whirled his attention on him-and what she said next nearly caused him to swallow his own tongue. She knew?! While he prided himself in his privacy and self-propriety, he had let down his guard since pursuing a relationship with her. Was he so predictable, now? He tried to hide his state of shock behind a Forbanne slate of indifference, but she caught his bewildered look (he apparently couldn’t conceal emotions from her, either), and as she opened her mouth to speak...
 
He released his anxious breath, and his body leaned into the exhale. She didn’t know. He was safe, for now. 
 
“It’s just...a different role from what I’m used to playing, is all,” he said, not even needing to play along with her ‘misdiagnosis,’ as he was truly concerned about his presentation before the kingdom of Eyraille. “All my life, I’ve been consigned to the background. Part of a collective, never an individual to be singled out in a crowd. Yes, I had that stint in the circus, but I was part of an ensemble. Just a piece, never the highlight. Even as a mountain guide for the refugees, I was only a means to an end, nothing symbolic. No one important. So,” he laughed nervously, “you can’t tell me that the Green Spirit doesn’t hold some import for this Equinox festival. You’ve said yourself that it, along with the Wind, are the main figureheads. You can’t fault me for having reservations. Though,” he chanced a smile, “I think the role of the Wind fits you well. I’m afraid my feet are too rooted to follow your breezy steps as we dance, though.” 
 
At her mention of seeking a fortune teller, he looked across the square to a young woman adorned in gold glitter, sitting at a table with cards spread out before her, and consulting a man who seemed down on his luck. “Should we really tamper with that sort of stuff? It already unnerves me that Ti—“ he silenced his tongue. He almost mentioned the star-seer, Tivia, by name, and he was certain that Vega had picked up on his faux pas. To remedy his mistake, he hurried with, “I’m not too keen on what fate has to say.”
 
Despite his scruples, he and Vega approached the woman shortly after the dejected man trudged on past them, mumbling to himself while stilling, to no avail, his twitching fingers. Haraldur kept to the side, enjoying his anonymity while it was still available to him. Never mind that he was a curiosity by association; any company of an Eyraillian princess was sure to raise some eyebrows. He was close enough, however, to watch as Vega drew a card featuring a couple entwined together, who presented before an omnipotent being. Fate. Destiny. ...Marriage. The accuracy of the card caused gooseflesh to raise up his arms. It certainly betokened happiness, for the both of them. 
 
Within himself, he begged the heavens for it to be true. And he begged that it would last. Let it last...
 
He shook away his ongoing contemplations when Vega mentioned him in conversation to the woman, who revealed she was an acrobat for the troupe that was currently in town. Now that two pairs of eyes were on him, he nodded, and stepped close to the table where Vega was standing. 
 
“I heard you were in town, but I haven’t had the chance to see your show yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I’ve been going to taverns in the evenings. Catching up with some old friends. But,” he gave Vega a distressed, ‘Why would you tell her that?’ look, “it was for a very brief time. About two months, if that. The troupe was looking for someone who could temporarily fill in for one of their regulars, who had broken his arm in an unrelated accident. It was for the knife-throwing act. They scoured the taverns looking for mercenaries who were a straight-shot. The pay was good, so I joined them until their performer was back to full health. Nothing spectacular. Well,” he remedied, “I did it blindfolded.” 
 
Why did he say that? He kicked himself for drawing attention yet again. So much so that the acrobat who introduced herself as Briery was interested in having him perform for her show, with Vega encouraging his participation. 
 
“No,” he demurred with the shaking of his head. “I mean, I haven’t done that act in years. I already have one role to play tonight, and I can’t be late for it. But I will come to see your show. It might stir some fond memories from those forgotten days. But,” the words reached him before he could reel them back, “since the training grounds at the palace have been closed for the festival, I haven’t had the chance to weapons train. If you have a target available at your site, and a few knives,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind ‘showing’ you what I remember.” 
 
It would be good for his latent frustrations. Whenever he was stressed, and was unable to imbibe in alcohol, he trained with his sword and daggers until all cognizance departed, leaving only thoughts of movement and the wielding of cold steel. To have no outlet from then until the dance...he was afraid he’d burst open before he’d even have a chance to propose. Engaging in the familiar, though it was pseudo-familiar, considering his gig with the circus happened four years ago, would help to still the yammering in his chest. 
 
That evening, before the show, Haraldur arrived at the caravans with Vega in tow. Also with him were a small arsenal of daggers—all hidden from view, of course. When they reached the clearing between the caravans and the stage, which had already been erected for that evening’s performance, he was surprised to see three familiar faces emerge from the door to the far right. 
 
Daphni, Elias, and Alster filed out of the minuscule space, with Briery trailing them outside. Haraldur greeted them all with a nod, but his bemusement must have been apparent, because Alster spoke over the awkward silence. “Oh, are the two of you also acquainted with Briery? The three of us were just delivering some medicine for an ailment, and now we’re going to find a good vantage point for the show.”
 
‘Ailment’ sounded incredibly vague, but he wasn’t going to press the healers, or Briery, for information that was meant to be privy to only a handful of people. So he nodded again, and turned to a target-stand that had been set up in the middle of the clearing. “We’ll be joining you shortly.” He expertly whipped a dagger out from the sleeve of his tunic and lobbed it at the target with a motion so instantaneous, Alster needed to replay the scene in his head to make sense of what had happened. The dagger, humming from the force of its throw, oscillated from its newfound home in the center of the target. “I just need a little target practice, first.”


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

“Ah--a knife thrower. And blindfolded? Now, that is impressive.” Briery grinned, leaning over the table in front of her. She looked Haraldur over with curious eyes. “You do look the type that a circus would seek out, with that kind of muscle. I’m willing to bet you might even be able to one-up Rycen. He’s our resident illusionist and knife thrower; damned good aim, but he’s never done it blindfolded. Maybe, if you have a moment, you might offer him some tips? We are always looking for new ways to improve and spice up our shows.”

“Go on, Haraldur; you’ve been getting more and more uptight all week. I’m guessing that is because you haven’t had ample room or time to train. Throw a few knives. I think it will make you feel better.” Vega winked at him. “I promise I won’t get jealous… I think I’ve learned how terribly that sentiment can turn on me.” She added flatly. Of course, she was referring to Sigrid, who wouldn’t seem to give her a break.

When at last the mercenary agreed, Briery offered a broad smile. “Excellent. It will be a good bit of fun. Our last performance will take place after supper, and before this evening’s grand ball--rest assured, I would like not to miss that, either. I’ve always looked forward to the dance you host at the end of the final night, your Highness. All of my troupe does. After all,” she chuckled, “it is about the only time that any royal would allow the likes of us to partake in festivities occurring within the palace. It is a real treat to see a glimpse into another world that is very much not our own.”

“Excellent. Your performances have never failed to amaze Eyraille’s people, Ms. Frealy.” Vega smiled. “You and your troupe are always more than welcome to pay a visit to our palace. I look forward to seeing you all there, tonight.”

 

The Skyknight commander accompanied Haraldur, that evening, as he made good on his promise to practice with his knives before the Missing Links’ final show. Sure enough, the quartet was there, readying the stage for the performance: a small girl with white hair clad in silver, a giant man who dwarfed even Haraldur by comparison, a tall, lanky man clad in a sparkling green suit, who was able to make smoke puff out of his sleeves. At first, there was no sign of the gold-clad ringleader upon their arrival, but soon after, the door to one of the caravans opened, and three oddly familiar faces filed out, followed by Briery, herself: the Clematis healer, the Sybaian healer, and Alster.

“Good evening to you all,” Vega greeted the healers and Alster, all whom she had not seen for the past handful of days. It was easy to lose even close friends, in the fray of the bustling festival. “Glad to see you could make it out. Mind if I join you? Haraldur’s queasy about masquerading as the Green Spirit tonight, and Briery has kindly offered  to have him throw a few knives. We’re all better off leaving him to it.”

Planting a kiss on Haraldur’s cheek, Vega ventured off to find a decent seat with her three comrades, leaving the mercenary among the performing folk.

“I am so glad you decided to come.” The gold-clad ringleader chimed. Briery seemed happier, higher than when they had met that morning. Whatever dealings she’d had with the healers and Alster had certainly boosted her spirits. “Come, you should meet our resident knight thrower. Teach Rycen a thing or two about doing it blindfolded.”

The led him over to the lanky magician, who offered an exaggerated bow. “Haraldur, is it? Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. Briery, here, tells me that you have knife-throwing skills to rival my own. While I do think I’m a pretty good shot, magic tricks are more my expertise. Care to share some pointers on how I might be able to do what you do--with a blindfold?” He held up a set of his own throwing knives, and grinned. “Sorry for the terrible pun; I couldn’t help myself.”

Rycen stood aside to give Haraldur access to the target, and handed him a blindfold. “I want to see this for myself. Sounds pretty damn impressive.”

And, of course, the mercenary did impress. Almost all five of the knives had hit their mark at the very center of the bullseye, and the couple that did not still straddled the line between the center dot and the innermost ring. Rycen whistled and Briery clapped. “Now that is some skill that this troupe needs! Step up your game, Rycen!”

The illusionist snorted and folded his arms. “Right, right. Well, let me give it a shot. You’d be surprised, what I find myself capable of doing. Do you mind?” He stretch out his hand for the blindfold, before tying it around his eyes. “See, I imagine it is all about knowing your surroundings. I know exactly where that bullseye is, and I know my distance from it. I know where to find the bullseye. So….” Readying a knife in his hand, he let it fly--straight past the target, only to embed itself in the wooden frame of one of the caravans.

Briery just groaned and shook her head. “Well, we won’t be trying this trick tonight. Listen to Haraldur, Rycen; he’s the one with the skill.”

“Huh. Seems it isn’t as easy as you make it look…” The magician pulled the blindfold from his eyes and arched an eyebrow at where the throwing knife had embedded itself. “Pah. I’m an illusionist, not a master knife thrower. Though if you don’t intend to join our troupe,” he turned to Haraldur and arched an eyebrow. “I’d be much obliged if you’d show me just how the hell you learned to do that!”

 

 

Later that evening, following the fantastic and breath-taking performance of the Missing Links, the ball had begun in full swing. Both Haraldur and Vega had left immediately after the performance, to don their costumes, which took a little more time to prepare than regular clothes. One of the servants tending to Haraldur carefully took in the costume where it was required, while lengthening it in other areas to better fit his form, and then adorned him with all of the ‘necessary’ accessories. When he was finished, and bedecked in shades of green and gold, there was no more time to justify delay, and so he ventured out into the hallway. No sooner did he leave the room that he ran into Sigrid who, unlike everyone else, was not only not dressed the part for a ball, but also heading in the opposite direction of it. When she spotted Haraldur (which was impossible not to do, given that he was clad entirely in green, looking every bit the part of the Green Spirit).

“Haraldur. You really do embody the character well.” The Dawn warrior commented, a grin on her face. “I think you’ll have everyone delighted tonight. No one will even care if you cannot dance. I just caught a glimpse of her Highness, as well--wait until you see her. You really will make quite the pair, tonight.”

At his curiosity regarding her plain clothing (her indigo-colored Dawn Guard attire), and the seeming lack of effort she had put into her appearance, with her blonde hair strewn about her shoulders instead of braided, she smiled sheepishly. “Oh… I don’t plan on being there tonight. Balls and dancing aren’t really my idea of a good time. Trust me, I am sure Vega will not be heartbroken to have one fewer attendee at the event.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, since it was probably true. “If anyone asks, then I’ve come down with a chill and am resting. Anyway, Alster and I are to leave for Stella D’Mare early tomorrow morning. It is probably for the best that I rest, and not party the night away.”

Obviously, this came as a shock, coming from someone who all week had been boasting that she would have Vega for a single dance that night. She shook her head at his confusion. “It was all a long, overly drawn-out joke, Haraldur; I never actually intended to dance with Vega. I would never truly have someone do something of the sort against their will. But I really had you going, taking Alster up on his offer to help me learn to ballroom dance. The princess’s reaction, and yours, were simply too amusing, and… well, I suppose I ran with it for too long.”

Pressing her lips together, Sigrid shrugged her shoulders. “You know, I’ve never told anyone this, but… I will probably never see you again, so it doesn’t matter. But the truth is, Haraldur, I am all talk; and rather a huge coward when it actually comes to courting women.” For once, there was no sly smile on her face to indicate that she was joking. “There was once--just once, maybe five or six years ago, when I was so bold as to reach out. Truth be told, I fell in love with a woman back in Braighdath. She was an artist and a dancer, and I’d had feelings for her long before I found the courage to talk to her. And… to my surprise, it seemed to work. She seemed interested, and agreed to accompany me to a dance in the town square for the celebration of winter solstice. I’d never been so nervous and excited. I dressed my best that night and expected to meet her among the crowds that evening. And, I did, but… it did not unfold as I expected.”

Sigrid rubbed the back of her neck, looking visibly uncomfortable at the mere memory of the event. “It turned out she wasn’t even… ‘available’. She already had a man on her arm; it had all been a joke to her. And she made sure that everyone else was dragged into it, as well. Calling me out in the crowd, taunting and shaming me for my… preferences. Laughing, because I was fool enough to think it could be something real. I don’t think I ever truly recovered from that. You could ask anyone in Braighdath and they’d still remember. I learned a lot, that night; that what I wanted wasn’t a passing fancy, but that it… it also wasn’t safe to pursue. So I do not dance or attend dances; and if ever I find myself truly interested in someone, I know to keep my distance. Flirting with Vega was all a joke; and making a joke of it, of myself, helps mitigate the fool that everyone made of me that one night on the winter solstice.

“But… I won’t continue to talk your ear off with pathetic stories from my past.” The Dawn Warrior smiled and shook her head. “I just wanted to apologize, for taking it too far. You were right; we are little more than strangers to one another. I love my brethren of the Dawn Guard unconditionally; but I was so excited to find a connection from my past, it didn’t even cross my mind that you had already established your own sense of family. With Vega, and with the children you are having together. I don’t really know what I expected, upon meeting you, to be honest. And, anyway, for all we know, we may not be blood at all. Just distant acquaintances from a foggy past.”

It was true; there was no way to know for sure, and it had been wrong of her to assume that it would be possible to connect pieces of her past in a meaningful way. “In any case… I am just happy to know that the boy I once knew has grown up and thrived. This week has been a delightful reprieve from my typical life… especially following the events with that damned sword, which has bound itself to me. I thank you for helping me forget about it, temporarily. Do me a favor, and cherish tonight: the beginning of the rest of your life. Make it one that you won’t forget, hm?”

Before she passed, the Dawn Warrior gently patted his arm. “I don’t know that I’ll see you again, before we leave, tomorrow. So in case I don’t… do take care. Fate has finally dealt you a favorable hand, so you had better live it to its fullest.”

With a final, soft smile, Sigrid made her way back to her bedchamber, leaving Haraldur to venture forth into his bright future with the woman who was soon to be his fiancee.



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 720
Topic starter  

Nodding his farewell to Vega after she joined the healers and Alster for a spot among the crowd, Haraldur broke his stance with the target to acknowledge Briery, who had gestured over to a green-suited man by the stage. While he preferred to be left to his own devices for a few good minutes of uninterrupted throwing, it wasn’t his target to commandeer, and so it was required of him to make niceties with the circus performers. Besides, he had agreed to showing them, best as he could replicate, his routine from four years ago. Now was his opportunity to represent Eyraille with grace and good cheer, as preparation for his fast-approaching role as the Green Spirit. 

 
As Briery introduced him to the man named Rycen, Haraldur swept his arm into a bow of his own. Unlike the Illusionist’s bow, which, befitting of a performer, which was all flourish and aplomb, Haraldur’s was utilitarian and curt. And though he had learned to copy the mannerisms of Eyraillian soldiers and Skyknights, it came off as rigid, and distinctly...Mollengardian. 
 
“The pleasure is all mine, Rycen,” he said, in a stilted dialogue he picked up from various conversations around the palace. Was it possible to mix both genial and genteel into his mannerisms, or, were the two conditions doomed never to coexist? If he spoke with politesse, it was by default not genuine speech, and were he more candid, polished words would never leave his mouth at all. What was considered polished, anyway? And did he have to adjust his speech depending on interactions with a ‘commoner’ or ‘noble’? I’m thinking too much into this, he thought, shaking away his fixations on crafting a ‘well-bred’ persona. “I don’t know if I can show you how I do it,” his patterns of speaking returned to normal, “but I can demonstrate, at least.”
 
After Rycen gave him his own set of daggers, and after testing their weight and balance (along with a few practice throws), he accepted the blindfold, centered and grounded himself for a moment, slowed his breathing, opened his senses, raised his arm...and threw. In quick succession the daggers flew, hitting the target board with staggering ‘plunks’ in the wood. When all his dagger stores were exhausted, he lifted the blindfold to check his handiwork...and smiled ever so slightly at the result. “I haven’t done that blindfold trick in years. It flatters me to know I can still hit within the target.” At the Illusionist’s attempt (which had narrowly missed the target and embedded itself into one of the caravans), Haraldur mulled over the sparkling green man’s question.
 
“Aside from assuming a stance before the target and keeping my throwing arm straight and  aligned with my body, the rest is...sensing my surroundings. But that’s a skill I’ve always had, as a mercenary and before that, a soldier.” Of course, he chose not to specify his status as Forbanne, no matter how accepting others have been of his past ties, lately. “A soldier can’t rely solely on their sense of vision, so we were trained to pick up on other cues in our environment. Once you perfect the art of seeing without seeing, the rest...comes together. That may not be useful advice,” he gave Rycen an apologetic shrug, “but I can try to teach you a few exercises.” 
 
For the next half hour, Haraldur directed Rycen into breathing exercises, stillness of form, outward listening, and hyper-awareness. He bade the Illusionist to close his eyes and detail every object around them, and the placement of each, from memory, several times over, until he was successful in painting the picture as accurately as possible. At the end of their quick training, he asked the lanky man to throw another dagger at the target, blindfolded; this time, he was able to launch it one ring away from the bullseye. 
 
By then, the show was to begin shortly, and Haraldur, with a pleased grin, congratulated Rycen, and took his leave, to find a place for himself in the crowd. As he watched the quad of performers, from Briery and her silks, to her ascent on the trapeze with her silver-haired companion, to the strong-man and the Illusionist, he bobbed his head at the colorful displays, and found that memories of his circus days had, indeed, flooded back to his mind. And, once he committed his undivided attention to act after act, his worries about parading as the Green Spirit, and his upcoming proposal, had serenely drifted away, into non existence. 
 
His serenity, however, did not last long. After the performance, Haraldur found himself back at the palace and attended to by the staff, in preparation for his Green Spirit costume. Whilst Vega was ushered off into a separate room, the mercenary kept a staid pose as he was draped with layers of heavy cloth, looking much like a moss curtain, in his opinion. Beneath his garish robes of woven ivy and threaded gold, he wore an accompanying ensemble; a brown tunic with shining-emerald trim, by far the most practical addition to the outfit. Pity it was an under layer. 
 
As they pinned together his ruffled collar of leaves, a third attendant worked on his hair and make-up. When all was done, he stared at himself in the mirror, to remark upon the additions to his appearance. Aside from the circlet, which haloed around his head, his chestnut hair, which was teased into a coiffure, glittered with strands of gold. His eyes, rimmed with black kohl, were of the brightest green he’d ever seen them. Beneath, stylized leaves were painted along the contours of his bottom lids.
 
He didn’t recognize himself. At all. 
 
“Well,” he muttered to himself as he turned from the mirror, “might as well assume my role now.” With a magnanimous grin, he swerved towards the attendants and thanked all three for their efforts in making him presentable for the ball. They accepted his heartfelt (enough) praises (for they did an admirable job, even if it was not to his aesthetic), and reassured him that Vega would be emerging from her changing chambers in a few short minutes. With a nod, Haraldur stepped into the hallway, and was greeted by Sigrid, who, by comparison, looked as though she’d emerged from a long day of sleeping. 
 
“It’s surprising what a change of clothes and face paint will do,” Haraldur said, as he tried not to scratch at his already itching neck. “I’m sure even a roc could embody this role. But thank you.” He tilted his head to one side, confused by her attire. “If you’re trying to push how far you can get away with your wardrobe, I don’t think you’ll have much luck passing Vega’s grueling inspection.” That was when she confessed to him: she would not be attending the ball, despite how much she hyped her eagerness to dance with Vega. It...didn’t make much sense to him. For all her excitement and enthusiasm in learning to dance, only to drop out of attendance at the last minute...
 
Even with her explanation, which detailed her embarrassment at the hands of a woman she thought had fancied her, he couldn’t help but conclude that it was due to what he said, that morning. Well I’m off to a great start as the jolly Green Spirit, he thought, guiltily. He had to make it right. It would be his first decision as the spirit. 
 
“Yes, we’ve only known each other a few days, Sigrid; I won’t argue that with you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to pursue a relationship. I thought we’d get that time. This is the first I’ve heard about your going to Stella D’Mare. But I’m heading there, myself. Maybe not with Alster, but in a few days; I’m part of their plan. You could hold off, and we’ll travel together.” The itching sensations persisted, traveling now to his face. The urge to rub his eyes free of the kohl was ever increasing. “If I’ve been less than friendly to you, it’s mainly because I’ve been so stressed about tonight, and your persistent playfulness...I supposed it rubbed me the wrong way. But please know that everything I’ve told you, when you first introduced yourself to me and explained your origins...I’ve never told another living soul. I’ve told Vega a few things, but never the details. I trusted you with that information, and I’m not one to trust at all.” He returned her shoulder squeeze with one of his own. 
 
“But I’m willing to believe in your sincerity and desire to connect. I don’t take that for granted, seeing as I,” he elected for a chuckle, “am so obviously in want of a family. Just know...that you’re welcome here. And that...I wish you’d attend the dance, if for no other reason than to make sure I don’t end up the Fool, all along, instead of the Green Spirit.” This time, he did scratch his neck, where the bushel of fabric leaves were pointing into his flesh. “If it’s not your scene, I understand. Believe me, I’d be keeping to my chambers if I had that luxury. But if you change your mind,” he offered an encouraging smile, “you know where I’ll be, Sigrid.” 
 
With her departure down the hallway came an arrival from the opposite direction. “Haraldur.” It was Alster, who, unlike Sigrid, was attired for the ball. He wore a deep cobalt tunic with shining silver brocade, an outfit he either borrowed or bought at the festival. The fabric was cinched together with a belt of vines and flowers. His sandy-hair, slicked back from his forehead, was also glinting with a few sparks of silver, a motif that followed to the edges of his eyes, which displayed a subtle splash of metallic-colored paint. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, taking in the intricacies of Haraldur’s too-green, too-leafy robes.
 
“You and me both,” he quipped, as he continued to scratch at his neck. 
 
“Where’s Vega?”
 
“Still getting ready. The attendants told me she’d be out in a few minutes.” After a small pause, Haraldur glanced down the hallway whence Sigrid had gone, and sighed low in his throat. “You remember this morning? During the dance lesson? I think I...alienated Sigrid. She’s not going to the ball tonight. Said she’s not a ball goer, and gave me a story on why. And I’ll respect if she doesn’t want to be there. But...I want to do something for her. Find her a woman who would want to dance with her. Or if anything, I’ll ask Vega to honor her end of the bargain. Maybe you can talk to her, Alster. Convince her to come, and help her to find someone.”
 
“I can certainly talk to her, Haraldur, but I’m not exactly an expert on courting women at the behest of another,” he said, with a shy smile. “You’ll have better luck, especially in your Green Spirit garb. You hold a lot of power, right now. If you approach a woman and ask her to dance with another woman, she might actually oblige. And with Vega on your side, they aren’t liable to deny your request.” 
 
“You...do have a point,” he frowned in thought. “I’ll go ahead and do that. It’ll be just the distraction I need to pass the time. In the meantime, talk to her. Don’t press her, though, in case she truly doesn’t want to be there.”
 
With his assignment received, Alster nodded and took off down the hallway in Sigrid’s direction. When he entered their shared room, she had already returned and was resting on the bed. Gaolithe, still in its wrappings, was beside her, in her watchful possession. “I forgot something,” he explained, at her inquiry. Walking towards his desk, he swiped the resonance stone from its placement beside the lantern. “In case I’m contacted. I know we’re planning on leaving first thing tomorrow, but we still need to brief Haraldur, Vega, and the king on the plan, as it stands; the updates and the changes, both good and bad. Besides,” he mimed drinking a bottle of wine, “all of Eyraille is likely to be hungover tomorrow. We might not be able to leave until the afternoon. And if that’s the case, then why deprive ourselves?” He sat on his bed and leaned forward, clasping both steel hand and flesh hand together. 
 
“I don’t drink, but I think I’ll make tonight the exception. If events are about to grow dire in Stella D’Mare, then an extended reprieve wouldn’t hurt. You’re welcome to join me, Sigrid. But first, I’d like to see if I’ve trained you well in the waltz. It would be a shame if you didn’t partake in at least one dance, considering the extensive pain I went through in order to teach you and Haraldur,” he said, but it was more jocular than accusatory. “I may not be a woman,” he huffed a self-deprecating laugh, “but that’s the role I’ve played these past few days. I’ll happily reprise that role. People will think little of us together. Stella D’Mare is quite a debauched place, in the eyes of more conservative nations; even among the conservative Rigas. Later, we can have a few drinks, and make sure Haraldur goes through with his proposal. I think he’s going to need all the support he can get, to make it through tonight without falling on his face. Well,” he slipped the stone into his pocket and stood from the bed, “I’m going to head over to the ballroom. Maybe I’ll see you there.” Without another word, he bounded over to the door, and clicked it slowly shut behind him, leaving her alone to contemplate her decisions.


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 860
 

At the mercenary’s comment that he thought they would have more time to get to know one another, Sigrid lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Well, even if you were not a factor in my being here in Eyraille, I still would have come for Alster. Someone needs to help reprieve him of the pain that his arm was causing him. And the same goes for Stella D’Mare; I’ll accompany him there, as well. I wonder if his fiancee has as deep a penchant for jealousy as her Highness.” She snorted and smiled, shaking her head. “Gods above help me if she does. I’d rather not have to spread my romantic preferences to any more ears than I already have just to shake free of engaged womens’ evil eye. It’s bad enough that the lot of you know, but I was willing to do about anything to find a way into Vega’s good graces--for your sake, at least.”

Haraldur’s mood had certainly changed, since that morning. Donned in the attire of the Green Spirit, with his hair styled and face painted, in a way he really seemed to have become the essence of the character, itself. He really had embodied that Eyraillian philosophy of happiness… and forgiveness. But she wasn’t sure she quite forgave herself. “I’ll be honest, Haraldur; I had no right trying to insert myself into your life, regardless of whether or not we are truly related. Family are the people who surround you at the best and worst of times, not the people who share blood. And I have been around for neither of those points in your life, nor you for mine. I suppose, in some ways…” She paused, her eyes thoughtfully searching the floor. “I just wanted to know how it would feel. To be near someone from a past that I can hardly remember. There are times when I still feel like an outlier in Braighdath, even in the Dawn Guard, because when all is said and done, I did not hail from Braighdath. The city begrudgingly accepted me because I had nowhere else to go, and the Dawn Guard extended their hand more or less as an act of charity. I thought… I was foolish to think that this would make me feel different. But…”

Looking up from the floor, Sigrid offered an apologetic smile. “I am more a stranger to you than I am to Braighdath. It doesn’t even make sense to try and connect; after Stella D’Mare, and when all of the dust finally settles, I’ll return to Braighdath and resume my life as it was. And you will return here and raise a family with Vega. I don’t think… that there is much of a future upon which for us to connect, Haraldur. Even if you do come to Stella D’Mare with us. But I must leave with Alster on the morrow; someone needs to help him with the pain in his arm, and we cannot assume that his city is in any state to be able to provide him relief. So if for no other reason, at least I can provide him with certainty that he won’t be in pain the entire time.

“Regardless, I’d love to be there to support you on this evening when your life is about to change forever, but… I’m afraid you’ll have to settle with my well-wishes from afar. Believe me when I say there is no place for me in a ballroom.” The Dawn warrior chuckled. “And just because I could follow Alster’s steps doesn’t mean I am any better at dancing than you. Be that as it may... you won’t be the Fool, tonight. No one in their right mind is going to call the man who is engaged to this kingdom’s princess a fool. You will do just fine, Haraldur.”

With a nod, Sigrid had walked away, and sought the comfort of the room she shared with Alster. Having been surrounded by new people in a strange place all week, the thought of stepping back for a night to herself was not so aversive, anyway. She was here for Alster, as a friend; and it should have been the only reason she’d come.

Picking up Gaolithe, which was resting against the wall near her bed, the Dawn warrior proceeded to unwrap the sword, and then re-wrap it, again. Tightening, securing the fabric around the blade and hilt to ensure it stayed. Not for the first time, she wondered if it would be possible to create a modified hilt for it. One which contained not only the blade, but the hilt, as well. To ensure that there would be no possible way for it to accidentally come into contact with someone else’s skin…

She had already wrapped and unwrapped the blade three times, not yet happy with the result, when Alster entered the room. Immediately, she placed the blade against the far wall, keeping it safely out of his space. “Well. You certainly look…” Sigrid looked the Rigas caster over with a grin. “You look like you belong at a festival for the spring Equinox. I can’t say I even recognize you as Alster Rigas, right now. What are you doing back here? The ball room is in the opposite direction, if I recall.”

He explained that he had come to retrieve the resonance stone, which made sense; while they might have spent the week celebrating, they still had a game plan in mind, and a city in dire need of help. They couldn’t afford the luxury of severing themselves from communication, if it was needed. “A shame you can only project voice through that thing, and not images. I imagine it would be quite the thing for your fiancee in Stella D’Mare to see you looking like this.” She chuckled, and shook her head.

It had been her understanding that they would leave early the next morning; which suited her just fine. Coming to Eyraille… hadn’t quite been what she’d expected. Meeting someone from her past had not gone as she’d expected. It was time to move on to other things, and to stop reaching for the unattainable--and that included the dance.

Sigrid sighed at Alster’s harmless suggestion, and rolled her shoulders forward. He must have run into Haraldur in the corridor. For whatever reason, he seemed to really want her to attend--which, frankly, made no sense. Not on the eve where he planned to propose to the woman he loved. This night should be about them and only them, not tagalongs sharing in the moment. “All right, I’ll come clean. I had never actually intended to dance with her Highness, Alster. For one, while her jealousy seems to be sufficiently allayed, I am not even vaguely convinced that she likes me--and I would never force someone to dance against their will. Not only that, but despite your instructions, I’m still not very good at it. I’m sure I’d make a fool of myself.” The Dawn warrior chuckled, but there was no humor in it. All of her humor had drained, following her confession to Haraldur.

“I only did it to make Haraldur and Vega believe that I was truly going to claim my right to our bargain. And, well, it most certainly worked; but it was only a joke, Alster. I don’t… do well at dances or balls. I will not dance with a man--well, you are the obvious exception, I suppose,” she grinned, “and I learned my lesson long ago that it isn’t safe to publicly out myself and ask another woman. I might have come to terms with who I am, but it hasn’t been easy to live this way. Even if this is a strange kingdom, far from Braighdath, and one I’ll likely never visit again, I can’t… I don’t think I want to risk reopening those old wounds.”

For the first time since she’d met Alster--or any of his comrades, for that matter--the Dawn warrior truly looked and felt vulnerable. Confessing her preferences to the small group was one thing, but admitting to her cowardice in ever pursuing something real, even if it was just to ask someone to dance… It hit home, to the fact that she was not really as strong as she liked to think herself to be.

“You are a very kind friend, Alster, to make such an offer. But I don’t think a ball is the place for me. Besides,” she picked up a tress of her pale blonde hair; not tangled, but she had not bothered to brush the snarls out of it and weave it into a braid, that day. Keeping up with Eyraille’s appearances was damned exhausting. “The ball has already begun, and I have neither a truly proper outfit, or the inclination to do something presentable with my hair. But don’t hold back just because I’m a coward; go and drink to your heart’s delight. I daresay after the week you’ve spent here, first tending to her Highness and then working tirelessly with those healers, you’ve damn well deserved it!”

Sigrid clapped him on the shoulder. “Have enough fun for the both of us. And do come back and tell me how the proposal went. Not that I have any inkling of suspicion that it won’t go well, but I’d like to hear about it, all the same.”

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, it had taken Vega longer to get ready than Haraldur, and the reasons for such were obvious when at last the Skyknight commander emerged from her dressing room. Clad in draping, billowing shades of white and pale blue, the Wind stepped over the threshold of the doorway like a creature out of a fable. Her red locks hung loose, having been carefully curls and twisted with strands of glittering silver and sleek, golden roc feathers . Silver also accented her face, carefully blended onto her forehead and the contours of her cheeks. Her eyelids were lined, and glittered with sparkle that could rival that of the circus performers’ stage attire. Her gown itself flowed like the weightlessness of clouds, the long, gauzy sleeves, reaching the ground. From her ears hung a pair of earring crafted from roc feathers and jewels, and a faint glitter that could only be caught in the right light had been dusted upon her cheekbones and lips.

And Vega looked about as happy to wear the costume as Haraldur did to wear his. She offered a sheepish smile. “See? I told you you weren’t the only one masquerading… And here is a fair warning, it never gets any easier as the years pass. Another fair warning--Caris might continue to ask you to play this role, as he has done to me. He seems to have sneaky ways of making people agree. But, on the bright side,” she took him by the arm and grinned. “At least neither of us has to bear this alone. Are you ready?”

Arm in arm, the Green Spirit and the Wind continued down the corridor, all the way to the ballroom, from which music was already resonating, and the sounds of voices and laughter could be heard across corridors and around corners--and it was only about to get louder. As the doors opened to reveal the two most sought-after characters of the evening, the entirety of the ballroom erupted in applause and cheering. Finally, the pinnacle of the evening, and the peak of the festival’s joy had arrived.

“Just wave,” Vega instructed Haraldur, doing the same, herself, “And smile. The wreaths are on the table, to your left. All you need to do is go around and throw them at people, entirely at random, or if they engage you; it’s up to you, really. Nothing to it. See?” She nudged him gently in the ribs. “I told you you have nothing to worry about. Look at these people; more than half of them are barely on their feet. The wine has been out for a while, now.”

“Your Highness.” A familiar voice caught Vega’s attention to her left, and the Wind turned to find the healers, Elias and Daphni, in attendance. It brought a smile to her face; she hadn’t been so sure that she would see either of them here; not with Daphni and her failing health, and Elias and his steadfast obstinacy. The Clematis healer had opted not to dress for the occasion, clad in his tell-tale red robes, but the Sybaian healer had switched out her robes for a pale green gown, and her hair had been curled and twisted and pulled away from her face, woven into an intricate braid at the back of her head. Vega almost didn’t recognize her at all. “You look positively stunning--the both of you.”

“As do you, Daphni. I am glad to see the both of you here.” The princess said in earnest. “Please, enjoy yourselves tonight. You deserve it, for all you’ve done for me.”

The Sybaian healer chuckled. “I believe enjoyment is the one thing that everyone here is having, tonight. Look around you: everyone had come to celebrate. Even the circus performers. Come to think of it, the only person who I have not seen is the woman who accompanied Alster--the blonde warrior.”

Vega furrowed her eyebrows, and scanned the vast ballroom, thinking Daphni to be mistaken… but she was not. The tall blonde could be spotted easily in a crowd, particularly for her refusal to don festive attire… “Where is your incessantly aggravating cousin?” The Skyknight asked Haraldur. “Not that I am going to complain if she forgot about that stupid bargain, but she’s been teasing me about that dance all week. It doesn’t seem likely that it would slip her mind…”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
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Topic starter  

At Sigrid’s flattering comment about his appearance, Alster’s cheeks reddened and he almost ran a nervous hand through his hair, which would have mussed up the style. But he caught his rogue hand in time, and set it to his side. “She’s never seen me in formal attire. Or—ballroom attire, rather. With the constant war and hardship we faced, there was never any time.” His eyes lowered to the ground in an attempt to hide the wave of longing that crossed over them. “I wish she could be here tonight, with me. I’ve left her in a difficult, nigh impossible situation, and instead of being there, I’m here, enjoying myself with our mutual friends. She would love to see Haraldur propose to Vega. The two of them are war comrades; she advocated for their coupling, saw the spark between them that he hadn’t yet recognized.”

 
While staring at the ground, he moved his feet in various dance positions, half-hearted in their shuffle. “Should I, ah, feel honored that you don’t really see me as a man?” He raised his head, offering a squiggle-mouthed simper that was mostly in jest. It wasn’t like he had enough pride as a man to be rightly offended, but sometimes, he would look to Haraldur, the quintessential model of his gender. A towering, intimidating height, a sharp-lined jaw, a face capable of growing facial hair, and the right proportions of muscles. He carried himself with a quiet dignity, commanded respect in others without even trying, and could intimidate with a stare. Alster, for all his power, was both physically and emotionally incapable of wearing that man’s life. He would never impress, or receive such respect without first showing his hand, and even so, he was more a curiosity than a threat. Yes, on more than one occasion, he desired the form which Haraldur occupied, instead of scraping by as short, scrawny, and so boyish, that those who didn’t know him would classify him as a teenager by maturity. Men like Haraldur...were accepted. Even among the Rigas family, who valued magic over brawn, his existence...was a joke. 
 
Then show them all that you won’t be treated as a joke...ever again, that voice in his head hissed. He nodded mutely, rubbing at the area of his arm where flesh fused to steel. But he dare not oblige. Not now.
 
Then when?
 
When I return to Stella D’Mare. Once I’m there...I’ll stop holding back.
 
“We could find you mens’ clothes, Sigrid. Disguise you good and proper. You’re tall enough, and muscular. I mean, if people see me and think ‘male,’” he again laughed at his expense, “then you should have no trouble masquerading as one. The option is always there, Sigrid. And though he did not explicitly state this, I think Haraldur wants you present. He doesn’t have many positive figures in his life. Though you’re a distant memory, that doesn’t mean the two of you aren’t deserving of a reconnection. Yes, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, as I can well attest, but you can be both, to each other. Blood and water.”
 
Hovering by the door, he added, “also, don’t think you’re bound to me because of my arm, Sigrid. If that’s the only reason you’re keeping to my side, you don’t need to. I’ll survive the trip. You can return home to Braighdath, if you like. Or to Galeyn. I won’t force you to fight in a war that is not your own.” 
 
He left, then, and as he sauntered down the hallway, he tightly gripped the resonance stone in his pocket. 
 
Elespeth, he thought, you should be here. With me. With our friends. Here I’ve gone and damned you to a dying city, and it’s killing you. But I’ll return. I’ll return...and I’ll make it right. 
 
Don’t hold back, the voice gurgled, pleased with itself. 
 
 
 
Meanwhile, Haraldur, assuming a guard-like post in the hallway (though it must have looked a ridiculous sight, with his outfit) did not wait long before Vega stepped out of her chambers, resplendent in her blues and silvers. Like a door, he swiveled towards her, open and agape at her appearance. Yes, he’d seen her in a gown before, but this was an excessive version of one, all wispy sleeves that almost dragged to the floor and billowing filaments of cloud-soft fabric along the hem. She, adrift in the sky, with roc feathers in her hair and on her ears, was the incarnation of that figure in the children’s tale, who had mounted and rode the first roc. She, the Wind, had deigned to turn her head toward the earth, to dirt patches and bramble, and through the muck, saw him. Drew him out of the mire, cleaned him up, and rose him on high. A fable come to life. 
 
And it was then that he realized...by finding the means to resurrect her from death, he ended up breaking the hold Fate had on him. He had fought against It and Its proclivity to send him Death as a gift. And now...it could not touch them. Though it was extreme hubris to think so, he needed to believe in its truth. Needed to believe that he had secured the lives of Vega and of his unborn children. They would all be safe, and together and happy. And he would fight anyone who disrupted that safety and happiness. 
 
“Vega,” he at last spoke through the staring silence. “You’re,” he reached for words that he could not find, “...it doesn’t look bad on you. That is,” he slipped his arm around the crook of her elbow and whispered into her ear, “I’m glad my robes are concealing what’s going on underneath, if you know what I mean.” Oh, wouldn’t Alster blanch at his failed attempts at waxing romantic? “I will also say that I’ll gladly suffer this abomination,” he waved at his leaf-coated arms, “if I have the pleasure of seeing you in that gown every year. Fair trade, no? I mean,” he winked at her, “you must find some merit in my current appearance. Something worth ogling, if only for the novelty. Gone is your filthy mercenary of the war camps.” 
 
As the two of them entered the vast ballroom, to the sound of uproarious cheers and hoots of delight from the already rowdy attendees, Haraldur raised an available hand and imitated Vega’s hand-waving motions. He opened his mouth into a wide grin, and, when Wind and the Green Spirit disentangled from each other, he dipped into a “performer’s” bow, for good measure. If his role were similar to a circus act...might as well give them what they wanted. 
 
Amidst collecting a few of the wreaths on the table and slinging them through his arms (though it interfered with the drooping of his sleeves), he turned around when he heard familiar voices address him and Vega.
 
“Daphni. Elias.” He gave a flourishing bow to them, in keeping with the persona he constructed for the Green Spirit: a gracious host, fun-loving, and prone to theatrics. “Glad the two of you could make it, tonight. You look lovely. And Elias,” he made a face, “you look red.” 
 
“Very astute of you, Haraldur,” Elias said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or should I say—Green Spirit? As I’ve told Daphni before you, and as I will tell any who dare to ask, I wear red so that any in need of my services will locate me with ease. Of course, this also means my idiotic half-brothers and ever-present mother will be on the prowl. If you see them, kindly point them in the direction opposite where I am.”
 
“Will do,” the Green Spirit said, presenting the two of them with a wreath. “It’s my honor to present to you the first wreath of the evening. You are hereby marked. Doubly marked, in your case,” he grinned at Elias. “It’s all I can do to thank you for what you’ve done, for Vega and me.”
 
“I will cherish this wreath, always,” he said, dryly, and passed it over to Daphni. “Here. More foliage for your outfit. You will look like a bush in no time at all.” 
 
When the Sybaian healer made note of Sigrid’s absence, and Vega followed up with an inquiry, Haraldur’s face fell, the illusion of his role, vanishing. “She approached me earlier and told me she wouldn’t be attending. Confessed to me that it was all one elaborate prank—the dance lessons and taking your hand on the floor.” He glanced over his shoulder, at a collective dancing the quadrille, bouncing along to the jaunty music from a small, but energetic orchestra. “But it’s more than that. She’s in truth uncomfortable in this environment, due to her preferences and the slights made against her, in the past. Mainly, she’s...disappointed, I suppose. That the two of us...that we didn’t bond to her liking. That I can’t be for her what she wanted from me. Though I’ll respect her wishes, at the same time...I don’t want our relationship to end this way. She may be the only family I have in this world. Even if she isn’t, she’s my only living tie to Klara. She was like a sister to her. And if she was a sister to my sister, then she is my sister by default. 
 
“Anyway,” he sighed, shaking away his sudden riled-up state, “I sent Alster to convince her to attend. And if she does attend, I’m going to find a woman who will dance with her. Or,” a little mischief glinted in his eyes as he looked to Vega, “have you honor your debt.” 
 
At that point, Alster had entered the ballroom, located his companions with ease (the Clematis healer refused to wear any other color but the sharpest of reds!) and aligned himself before Vega and Haraldur. “Your Highness.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, “you’re a vision in that dress. I couldn’t convince Elespeth to wear anything of the sort, even if it was for our wedding. Which,” his shoulders hunched, “probably wouldn’t happen for some time. Not with everything going on.” 
 
Releasing her hand, he greeted Elias and Daphni, the latter to whom he acted similarly, in compliments and gestures. After his pleasantries, he returned his attention to Haraldur, and gave the green-clad man a brisk shake of his head. “I wasn’t able to convince her, I’m afraid. She’s resigned to her chambers for the evening. It sounds like she’s given up, Haraldur. She doesn’t believe that the two of you will ever be more than strangers, and she’s ready to move on from Eyraille, and leave you to your happiness. But as I left, she looked so...dejected. So terribly lonely. I...don’t think I can just leave her like that, tonight. At the very least, I’ll check on her often. We can’t force her to do much else, after all.”
 
At the news, Haraldur sagged, and whether it was from the lighting overhead, the vivid green of his costume appeared...yellower. “Oh,” he said, and stared at the wreaths lined up on his arm. “Really...what was I expecting? She’s right. What charade were we trying to play? There’s nothing that no longer connects us.”
 
“No. You’re both wrong,” Alster said. “What connects you both is your desperation to connect. She reached out to you, by traveling with me to Eyraille. And you reached back. It was the execution that went wrong, but she acted the way she did, to grow closer to you.” 
 
“And I spat in her face,” he muttered. “Not like she can rid of me so easily, though. If she’s going to Stella D’Mare, I’ll be there. And I’ll step on her heels if that will remind her that she can’t fly into my life and then retreat. If she intends on fighting our battles, then she will have to contend with me as her comrade-in-arms. In a way,” he fiddled with the edges of a wreath, “she’s like me. She withdraws. Maybe that’s why I want to help her.” He glanced at Vega, and squeezed her hand. “Like you helped me.” He pulled a wreath from his possession and handed it to Alster. “Give this to her. Not like it will reconcile any of our differences, but...if this festival and the Green Spirit together represent new beginnings, then that’s what I want to convey. Her arrival here is too coincidental to be nothing but...well, fate. That’s what I believe. She heralded the positive turn in my fortune. I’ll forever associate her with...possibly the best week of my entire life.”


   
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Requiem
(@requiem)
Joined: 8 years ago
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Daphni was unable to hold back audible laughter at Haraldur’s observation of Elias. Just… red. It was so true, and yet, terribly funny. “There is no use in attempting to convince him to change his mind. Believe me, I’ve already tried. You’ll never see him in another color. But…”

Turning to the Clematis healer, she grinned and draped the wreath around his neck. “Oh, I don’t think so. You don’t get to completely deny the spirit of the festival, Elias.” She gently chided him, hands on her hips. “I am already green enough. You’ll wear the wreath for the entirety of the dance. You don’t get to shirk tradition, entirely.”

Vega could not help but grin at the exchange. This was a side of the Sybaian healer that she had not seen, before… and, frankly, she liked it. For someone who Elias had otherwise wished would adhere to bedrest, there was a lot of life in her pale, blue eyes. “The Sybaian speaks the truth. It is one thing to refuse to wear celebratory colors while traipsing around the town during the festival; not recommended, but forgivable. But to not partake in the tradition on the final night… it’s prohibited.” She smiled sweetly. “It is my court. Just because your help to me has been invaluable does not make you an exception to Eyraille’s rules.”

And, speaking of exceptions…

The princess listened to Haraldur’s account of what Sigrid had told him: that it had been a joke. All a long, drawn-out, stupid joke that had left her stressed and agitated all week… She could not share in his sympathy for the blonde warrior, even if she wanted to. “Sounds as though I wasn’t wrong, then.” She said, nudging Haraldur in the ribs. “She did want to be close to you, after all. Just… not in the way that I’d initially thought. Nonetheless, her sulking over disappointment and cowardice to live up to her own romantic preferences does not exempt her from being here, tonight. No more than Elias is exempt from wearing festive colors.”

“If I may, your Highness,” Daphni cut in gently. “Elias is one thing; his excuse is rooted in mere obstinacy, so I won’t defend him against your rules. But--although I have not had many dealings at all with this foreign warrior, if she truly is experiencing emotional distress of some kind, and if participating in this grand ball is only likely to exacerbate that pain… perhaps it is best to make that exception for her. The extent of pain that cannot visibly be seen is liable to be just as debilitating as physical wounds.”

But by the astute look on Vega’s face, no longer a warm Wind, but more like a biting Chill, was enough to indicate that she hadn’t heard her--or that she didn’t care. “The spirit of this festival is in putting the past behind us, and focusing on what the future has to bring. So if it is true that she is really holed up in her quarters, pondering events that have already come to pass, then right here is the best place for her to be. And anyway…” She glanced at Haraldur, whose vibrant green seemed to have faded, significantly, in light of this news. “She is single-handedly responsible for dampening the spirits of our Green Spirit. That is a slight, if ever I’ve seen one. I cannot believe I am saying this… but she will be here, tonight.”

Turning to Alster, who accepted a wreath from Haraldur to pass on to Sigrid. “Go and speak with her again. Tell her she must come--and that is an order. I don’t care that I am not her princess, and Eyraille is not her kingdom. She will not disrespect out customs.”

Though startled, Alster complied and left to fulfill his task. The Wind watched him leave through the heavy wooden doors, and wrinkled her nose. “He might need some help. I’ll make sure she shows up.” Turning back to Haraldur, she offered him a half-smile. “I won’t have my Green Spirit feeling dejected, tonight. Let me do this one thing for you. The warrior will be fine; she has nothing to fear, of this crowd. And if she really is seeking to alienate herself from you because she feels there is no hope that your blood connection is strong enough to mean anything… Well, she is going to have to try harder than that, I’m afraid.”

 

Alster had been right; Sigrid had no intention to show up at the ball, that evening. As soon as the Rigas caster had left, the blonde warrior had settled down on her bed, hands behind her head and eyes turned upward toward the ceiling. She hadn’t lied; not to Haraldur, nor Alster. Since the day she’d been humiliated on the Winter Solstice, dancing had not been a particularly favored passtime, nor had she considered ever expressing her attraction to another woman--at least, not in a serious sense. Teasing Vega had all been a game; enough that she had truly almost considered taking her up on that dance, since it would be so easy to make light of it.

But… Haraldur’s words had resonated with her, whether she liked it or not. She’d teased him, joked with him, as if they had known one another for years. As if tragedy and circumstance had not torn them apart, and made them strangers to one another. But the reality remained that they were strangers; and there was no feasible way to determine if they even shared blood. Treating him like a brother she had always known had only made a fool of her, once again, and had shed light on true face of this situation.

Coming here, expecting that finding a ghost from her past would make a difference… it was foolish. In every sense of the word. It doesn’t matter, anyway, she told herself, resolving to move on and simply be happy for him. He had suffered worse than she had; it was about time his life turned around. But none of that indicated that she had to be part of it, or that it would even be a good thing if she was. Tomorrow, she would leave with Alster for Stella D’Mare; and not only to provide relief for his pain. She wanted to go, if only to move on from the humiliation of thinking that coming to Eyraille would ever make a positive difference in her life… or in Haraldur’s. It was enough to know that he was happy and well. And she could leave, satisfied, knowing that.

There was a knock on her door, and she looked up to find Alster standing in the doorway once again. The Dawn Warrior frowned. “Did you forget something else?” She asked, before she noted the wreath on his arm. And then she heaved a sigh so deep that she might have deflated. “Haraldur sent you, didn’t he?” But why? She wanted to know. We’re strangers. Our blood means nothing. He knows this… he alluded to it, himself. And even if he had reacted out of stress, she also knew that sometimes the truth came out at its purest, when negative emotions were running high. The former mercenary might have regretted what he’d said… but he’d still meant it.

“I don’t know how else to say this to make you or anyone else understand, Alster.” Sigrid shook her head and sat up, rubbing her hands down the front of her face, looking more tired than she felt. “I am not going. Haraldur doesn’t need me there, on one of the most important nights of his life. And I am not about to be made a fool at a dance, again. I’m not dressing like a man, I am not dressing up at all. It just… isn’t my idea of a good time. All right?” She met his eyes, looking for understanding. “Isn’t that enough?”

Apparently, it wasn’t.

Before Alster even had a chance to reply, he was tailed by two guards--yes, guards--who did not wait to be invited before entering her room. “Are you Sigrid Sorenson?” One of them asked. He did not appear to be armed, but looked as though he could--and would--put up a fight.

Dumbfounded, Sigrid shot to her feet, immediately on the defensive. “What is this about?”

“Her Highness, Sir Vega Sorde, requests your presence immediately at the Equinox ball. You are to come with us.”

No. This was absurd; the princess surely had not sent Alster and a pair of guards to retrieve her. Vega didn’t even like her, for the love of all that was good! “Why? Again, I ask, what is this about? I have done nothing wrong. I haven’t broken any of your laws. I came here in peace, just as he did,” she indicated Alster, “and I had rather hoped to spend my evening in peace.”

“You are to come with us.” The second guard parroted, as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

Blood rose up Sigrid’s neck and to her cheeks. “Or what? What will you do if I do not go with you?” She challenged, feeling that fight flood her veins. Would they have her arrested? Throw her in the damned dungeons for not participating in some trite, trivial festival? Forcibly drag her out? But, the real question was… Was she really willing to put up a fight about it, if it came to that?

The two guards exchanged glances, and one shrugged his shoulders. “Her Highness seldom makes demands such as these. It isn’t our place to question that. But I will tell you this much: I wouldn’t want to suffer the consequences of refusing an order from a Sorde. Ultimately, that is your call.”  

The Dawn Warrior blinked. Just how vicious could the Sorde family be? She had heard stories of the kingdom’s past; knew the history as well as anyone. But Vega and her brother were supposed to be different. Were taking the kingdom in an entirely different direction… Evidently, that did nothing to mitigate the fact that some blood ran hot, for a reason…

Pressing her lips together, Sigrid said nothing, offering only a curt nod as the guards and Alster accompanied her out of the room, and down the hallway. “I am going to keep telling myself that you had nothing to do with this…” She murmured to Alster, frowning. To his credit, he seemed just as startled that Vega had sent authorities to retrieve her.

Pushing through the heavy wooden doors, Sigrid was met with a maelstrom of noise, music, and colour. It was almost surreal, the utter joy that emanated throughout--almost to the point where it made her uncomfortable (well, more uncomfortable than she already was). But none of that compared to when Vega, dressed intricately as the character of the Wind, approached her. Understandably, confusion was written all over the warrior’s face. “Your Highness…”

“Do you really have the gall to come into my kingdom, and insult it--insult me--by forsaking a very sacred tradition?” The princess asked. And in that moment, she was every inch a royal: austere and unyielding. And not afraid to show it. “You knew the expectation, Sigrid Sorenson. Everyone celebrates Equinox; and you will not sit out the pinnacle of the celebration: this ball.”

“Is this all because of the joke?” Sigrid asked, still struggling to comprehend. “Because I was teasing you about that dance? Flirting with you? I didn’t mean any of it, Your Highness; and I see now that I took it too far. Please accept my apologies. But I…”Her blue eyes scanned the crowd nervously. “I’d rather not be here.”

Vega only snorted, on hand propped on her hip. “Oh, you can bet that this is part of my revenge. You made me uncomfortable for an entire week. So forgive me if I don’t care that you’re uncomfortable for one night.” Taking the wreath that Alster was still holding, she placed it around Sigrid’s neck. “And you will keep that on for the remainder of the evening. Your attire is a disgrace to this festival, so that is the compromise, if you cannot adhere to the dress code.”

“What do you want from me, Vega?” Sigrid finally dropped the formality to show the sheer confusion and discomfort she felt. “Enough pretense; just tell me. If you want me to leave Eyraille--”

“On the contrary, I don’t want you to go anywhere. In fact, you will not leave this room until I specifically give you permission. Me, and me alone. Is that clear?”

But she didn’t wait around for the Dawn warrior’s answer. After all, as a symbol and figurehead, the Wind was expected to mingle; so, mingle she did, along with her green-clad beau.

Looking about as lost as a person possibly could in a crowd, Sigrid scratched the back of her neck. “You mentioned something about drinking.” She said, glancing sidelong at him. “Are you still up for that? Because I don’t know how else I’ll be able to endure this.”



   
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Widdershins
(@widder)
Joined: 8 years ago
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Topic starter  

In response to Daphni and her sound laughter at his expense, Elias snorted, but wore the dratted wreath around his neck like a pillory at the stocks. While he would not say it aloud, if wearing his leafy harness spilled laughter out of her mouth, then he would oblige her whims. To hear the delight and amusement caress his ears, tickling him with its wispy warmth, was well worth the embarrassment. His attending the dance, similarly, was all for her. Donned in flourishing flowers and budding life, of the promises that were ready to blossom into possibilities for their future, she had never looked more radiant. For that, he would carry his target, but not in compliant quietude. That was the compromise he made to himself. 

 
“I am not purposeful in my disrupting the color scheme of your precious festival, your Highness,” he said, poking at the thing on his neck as though it would suck away his blood. “We Clematis are not allowed to disguise ourselves. We are bound to our red, and it is a tradition that I, too, must uphold, same as your traditions of old.” He popped one arm out from under the wreath, fashioning it as a sling that rested against his opposite shoulder. “As long as this, too, is visible,” he twisted the Clematis pin on his lapel, “I will contend with my ‘prize,’ and wear it with...tolerance.” 
 
Thankfully, once Alster entered the ballroom, conversation inevitably shifted to the blonde-haired warrior and her similar bout of obstinacy. Silent though his opinion, he could defend her decision to bar herself from all festivities. For, wasn’t that what he had wanted, as well? Compulsory attendance in Eyraille’s affairs was a conscription that bordered on tyranny, no matter their claim that it was all done for future bounty. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, after all. The Sordes, though they may deny it, possessed vestiges of their father, and it showed through their incidental, yet petty, acts. As with the case of Vega Sorde, it was obvious to everyone standing in that circle that she would force Sigrid’s presence for the sake of the mercenary. It was a show of fierce love, absolute and tempest-strong...and near deadly to those who challenged its gales.
 
Alster, frowning, inclined his head to one side, as if gauging Vega’s seriousness in her newest directive. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You can’t force people to make merry.”
 
“I’m not making merry,” Elias mumbled. “And yet, here I am, against my will.” 
 
Alster raised an eyebrow at him. “No you’re not.” He jerked his head at Daphni, a knowing glint in his eyes. 
 
The Clematis healer sighed, but did nothing to defend himself from the Rigas caster’s accusation. It was true, after all. “My point is, Her Highness does not care if she enjoys herself; only that she is present.”
 
“I don’t agree with this, either,” Haraldur said, turning his gaze to Vega. “If she doesn’t want to show, is her non-participation that big a slight on Eyraille?” But the Wind could not be swayed to change directions. She had chosen her course, and was unlikely to be persuaded. Alster saw the hard-lined ardor in her blue eyes, the very same that Chara displayed, and he knew that her decision was final. With a defeated nod, he looped the wreath around his good shoulder, and exited the ballroom to deliver the bad news. 
 
Haraldur didn’t know when it happened; he had turned away from Vega for several minutes, when a few revelers approached him and asked for a wreath. He engaged, as necessity beckoned, asked how they were enjoying themselves, and placed the wreath over the slender neck of a woman who had displayed the most elaborate flower headpiece that he had seen during the festival so far. It was enough of a distraction that when he returned to Vega’s side, he had noticed, too late, that she was talking to a few guards on duty, who, after saluting, rushed from the ballroom, hurrying down the hallways with long strides. 
 
“Did you...” his entire face went hot, a mixture of anger and mortification. “Did you sent guards to fetch Sigrid!? What are you—“ But he could not finish his admonition before a gaggle of revelers pulled the Wind into a dance, Haraldur having skipped away in time to avoid inclusion...for now. 
 
 
 
When Alster arrived at his and Sigrid’s shared chambers, there was apology written on his face. Even as she adamantly expressed her desire to remain behind and alone for the remainder of the night, he shook his head, and opened his mouth. “I’m afraid that—“
 
But he was unable to finish, before two guards burst through the door and practically shoved him aside. 
 
No respect, the voice hissed. Never any respect. 
 
He pursed his lips, but said nothing, having no authority to contest the guards and their orders, which had come straight from Vega, herself. She didn’t trust that I’d be able to do it myself, he thought, the fingers of his good hand curling slightly. Maybe she wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. 
 
The exchange between the Dawn Warrior and the guards was tense, almost hostile, and Alster was half-convinced that she’d fight against her conscription and choose an evening in the dungeons over mandatory attendance. But it wasn’t worth it to fight over such a small grievance; he knew that, and so did she, in the end. She, surrendering to the will of Vega Sorde, followed the guards out the door, with Alster close behind. 
 
“I didn’t know,” he whispered to Sigrid, when she directed some of her frustration at him. “Vega told me that you’d be required to attend, but I didn’t know that she’d send guards to fetch you. I’m sorry,” his voice dipped even lower. “We tried to reason with her. Don’t blame Haraldur for this, either. He only wanted to send you this wreath.” He nodded to the bushel of greenery still slung over his shoulder. 
 
Upon entering the ballroom, they were brought to the Wind, herself, who expressed both displeasure and vengeful satisfaction over Sigrid’s arrival. He wondered if her week-long embarrassment had been the catalyst for this reciprocated shaming of the she-warrior, or if she really was that adamant about her kingdom’s traditions. A mix of both, he assumed. But above all, it was for Haraldur’s sake, however much he didn’t approve of the method. 
 
After the Sorde princess excused herself and returned to her duties, Alster, with a sympathetic smile, led Sigrid away from the crowd, along the contours of the walls where few lingered, and eventually, to the libations tables set up towards the back-end of the massive hall. “There are techniques for keeping out of the public eye,” he said, lifting a clean, empty goblet from the table and nodding for an attendant to pour until full. “Stay to the walls. People won’t notice you. That will make the night tick longer, however. So,” he gave her his goblet, and fetched another for himself, “drink your fill. Again, we’re not going to leave first thing tomorrow, so you’ll have time to recover your senses. That is, if you’re still coming with me to Stella D’Mare. I assure you; there are no balls you’ll have to attend. But, you will see yourself face-to-face with yet another strong personality, who will make Vega Sorde look like an absolute delight: Chara Rigas. You might find some common ground with her, though. She is in a relationship with Lilica, and no one dares cross her about it. Granted,” he took a sip of his wine, “she is the Rigas head. She was always meant to seize power. Born into the privilege, like Vega. But it makes me wonder; how does one wield power effectively? When does it breach into misuse and abuse?” He glanced at his steel arm, which he’d positioned back into its sling. “Sometimes I question my own standing. Where will my magic take me, now that I have so few limitations?”
 
But he shook away his out-loud musings, and guided Sigrid from the table, towards the closest wall. “It may not seem like it to you, but this festival, this ball...it really is a reprieve for us. I’ll take fifty dances over what awaits us in Stella D’Mare. If not for my fiancée, I’d feel nothing but deep-seated dread, in returning. I can’t ask you to enjoy yourself here, but I can suggest finding appreciation in peacetime. All around us is abundance, smiling faces, happy couples. It’s so rare. Well, for me, anyway.” He closed his eyes and took another long sip of the wine. “I’ve forgotten what it tasted like.”
 
When he opened his eyes, a familiar figure was standing before them. “Grandmother Alta!” He beamed a smile. “No matter what, you always know where to locate me. Am I really so glaringly noticeable? Does magic just slough off of me and leave a sloppy trail wherever I tread?” He leaned forward, and kissed her on one cheek, then the other. “You look like spring. Very youthful. Like a maiden in full bloom.” He winked. “Sprightly enough to dance, I daresay. Every Rigas knows how to dance. Even librarians and pariahs.” 
 
While Alster and Grandmother Alta chatted, Haraldur, who had been trying to reach Sigrid, but to no avail, had at last divested himself of the latest rowdy crowd, and swam his way to the wall closest to the libations, where he assumed she had stationed herself. And when he navigated towards that wall, he found that he was correct in his assessment. There she was, still tousle-haired and dressed in indigo, with one of his wreaths marking her neck like a cattle-brand. Of course, she was taking long draughts of wine, and he envied her that small luxury. What he wouldn’t do for even a sip.
 
First, he greeted Grandmother Alta with a smile, remarking on her beauty, as Alster did before him, and presenting her with a wreath. Then, he turned to Sigrid, and his expression changed. No longer was he the Green Spirit, but the aggrieved mercenary that she had met on the day of her arrival, who was so convinced that he’d lose everything he held dear. “Sigrid,” he said, and wasn’t sure what to say, beyond her name. “Let me first apologize on behalf of Vega. I...never wanted you here against your will. If you really want to go, I can talk to her about it. Heavens know I’m just as uncomfortable as you, here. And,” he stared at the gilded wall behind her, “you were right. We’re strangers in each other’s lives. You wanted to bridge our distant connection, and I wanted it, too, in the beginning. Then it all happened so fast. Without really knowing each other, we built a hasty tower out of sand and expected it to hold. But based on what? Half-remembered visions of a past long gone? Our lives, after leaving our fishing village, were so vastly different, that even if we are related, it’s the only true commonality we share.”
 
“However,” he rested his green eyes on her blue ones, “we can still do this organically, Sigrid. There is a war ahead of us, and I could think of few better to have on my side, than you. Comrades-in-arms require trust, and commitment, traits that I know you possess. So,” he extended his right arm towards her, palm open, “let’s not be strangers anymore. My name is Haraldur. I don’t know if that’s my true name, but it’s the name that I’ve chosen. My mother was a witch. I inherited her magic. And then I lost it all, only to, years later, regain everything. A different kind of everything, but no less wanted. Including a piece which I thought long forgotten, in the ice and winter darkness. I am Forbanne, but it no longer defines me. In fact, I am many things, to different people. Only time will determine who I’ll be, to you. But only if you take my hand...and agree to become part of my life, as it is right now. Not what it once was. If we shake...we’ll get to see what happens, good or bad.” 


   
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