*

Eyja:

How badly she wanted to question Abiene about the patient she’d treated in the night; and whether she’d done a thorough healing since. She sealed her lips, realizing Maxical was in charge now. She just hoped whatever they had it couldn’t be spread to Maxical like that last disease had done.

Eyja was determined not to speak, but when Abiene indicated the scalpel for sterilization she jumped on it; moving quickly and silently to her pack.

She pulled an odd looking pot of a strange alloyed metal out, unhooking the latches on the lid of the pot and removing several towels.

“These towels are sterile, and overly absorbent. These are only to absorb in the wound itself.” She stretched one out and lay the others folded on it; then drew a flask of the same alloy out of the pot. She emptied the flask into the pot.

“Pure sterile water, the minerals removed.” She called over her shoulder.

She carefully positioned the scalpel on a wire mesh tray in the pot without touching any but the end of the hilt, then locked the lid back down and dropped a heavy metal cup of the same alloy over the high-pegged vent in the top of the pan lid.

Eyja squatted down and cast a fire spell under the pot. “The fireplace is only 375 degrees, this spell is almost 900.”

Within seconds the heavy metal cup on the top of the pot began dancing and hissing violently.

“This won’t take long.”

Eyja counted aloud quietly, then wrapped a regular dishtowel on her hand and lifted the pot off the hook over the fire and set it on the hearth. She lifted the heavy cup off and waited till the steam stopped hissing before unlatching the lid.

She counted down the seconds and then cast a frost spell on the scalpel. Lastly, she grabbed one of her sterile towels and lifted the scalpel out by the hilt with it, laying it on the stretched out sterile towel.

“It will feel both cold and hot for a full minute, if you can wait to use it. But there isn’t a germ alive that could live through that.”


She stood near the sterile towels as Abiene had instructed, trying to keep her face and voice from showing her nervousness as glanced over at Abiene.

“If you need me to do anything...just give me orders. I don’t say that often, so take advantage if you have any need.”




*

*

Maxical:

Maxical gripped the cloth of Seth’s shirt, and was glad she hadn’t clutched his hand when she felt the material tearing under her claws that had unsheathed instinctively with the pain.

She tried to think inane thoughts in case Malan had sensed her weakness of the last few days and was already seeking her out; whispering them quietly to herself.

Dear gods Eyja’s breasts are huge. I wonder if that comes from all the mating? Mine are flat as a man's, so it’s probably why.

Geez, Hal-Liurz must mate every hour for hers to be so big.

Maybe they grow bigger if you mate a big man, or don’t grow as much if the man is short.

I wonder how big Dwemer breasts were? Where did they really go?

Do minotaurs come from mixing Orc with cows? Ew, that’s disgusting!

If a cow ate a wolf and then mated, would he have puppies?

I wonder how many times Divayth Fyr has mated in his lifetime?

If a horse mating only produces one baby horse, what if they poured Skooma on his oats? Would he give birth to a litter?

Do mud crabs mate? Would they do it by climbing on from behind or facing each other? Wouldn't their claws get in the way?

I wonder how slaughterfish do it?

Chickens can’t mate, or I‘d have seen it...



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 8 2013, 03:38 AM

Abiene

Abiene spent a moment washing her hands and loosening her gown again. She downed her potions, the magicka flowing through her in a welcome rush. Then she knelt on the floor beside the bed. It was easy to lose one’s balance when the body forgot which way was up.

“You’re doing great,” she said, picking up Maxical’s hand and brushing it against her lips. “Let’s finish this.”

She closed her eyes so they wouldn’t get too dry. Then she began.

This time she did not feel any pain. Her spell didn’t work with Maxical so much as on her. Abiene’s mind moved through Maxical’s body, directing the parts to reconstruct themselves. Maxical could have been some dead thing under Abiene’s hands, growing as she was meant to be but driven by Abiene’s will. The sense of control slowly gave way to a thrill of power.

And there was such power. Maxical’s soul fragments were a blinding sun inside her. Abiene felt drawn toward it. To make it hers.

Maxical’s liver became plump and whole.

You could make some small improvements.

Shriveled vessels throughout her kidneys inflated as they began to function again.

Guided by your will her body would be stronger for her fight. Try it. Just a little.

Her ruined lung regrew in a way that could never have been healed.

What are you afraid of? With this much power you could give her wings!

Abiene’s free hand snapped closed and then opened again. There was no more magicka for her to absorb from the others. And she refused to touch those souls. For Maxical’s sake, and for her own.

For a long moment her mind was still.

You know the other way.

A spell once taught at the Arcane University but long ago banned in Cyrodiil. Healer’s Bane, they called it. The end of so many young mages. In Skyrim it was known as Equilibrium.

Abiene drew the spell into her hand. She knew a ball of red light would flicker around her fingers as she continuously cast. She had seen it when Darnand demonstrated, just back from the north and full of ambition. Then once after, trembling with wonder and revulsion as she explored her limits.

Abiene’s magicka filled as her life’s energy drained, converted by the Equilibrium spell. Maxical’s body bloomed under Abiene’s command, her internal workings as healthy as a child’s.

Not too far...

Abiene’s heartbeats came slow and heavy, strong enough to shake her bones. Or was her body just that frail? She couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. She let go of the Equilibrium spell and poured the last of her magicka into Maxical. Relief mixed with triumph and a curious sorrow.

She slumped against the side of the bed, forehead resting on her outstretched arm. What was this sense of failure? Maxical was restored and she had resisted temptation, those battles she had won. Yet a part of her wished that she had given in to the lure of that power. She had failed to take the opportunity.

Abiene felt sick, shaken by the turn of her thoughts.

“It’s done,” she said.

*

Maxical:

Pain intensified Maxical's mind, honing it through Abiene's healing till she felt a oneness with her. Maybe that is the way it is supposed to work, but she'd never felt that before in a healing.

Abiene had been exhilarated, wavering on the same borders Maxical had faced a year ago. Power is a lure that draws even the quietest souls into its grasp and shows what they could have; if only.

As terrible a necromancer as everyone thought Mannimarco, it was he that talked her out of crossing that border.

Maxical wasn't hungry, and didn't know if she even could eat yet; but she wanted a moment alone with Abiene.

"Eyja, fix me something to eat, I'm hungry. Is there any more of that bread Seth made?"

"No, I ate the last bit. I'll make you a plate of your favorites." She hurried out. Maxical didn't remember seeing Seth leave, but her wrist had been dropped. She no longer clutched his shirt, but couldn't remember releasing it.

She took hold of Abiene's hand and rubbed it on her cheek. Instead of her own words, she quoted Mannimarco's to her that day.

“It falls hard on one’s heart to relinquish power, once one tastes it. Do you not find it so, my dear friend?"

She kissed Abiene's hand and continued.

"Those aren't my words. They were spoken to me by the most reviled necromancer of the last four Eras. Mannimarco said them to me. A year ago I had to make the same choice you just did. That power makes you feel more alive than any sensation that ever came before; and just for a second in your mind it is easier to grasp than it is to turn away. But crossing that border links you with that other realm."

She shifted closer to Abiene and lowered her voice.

"I had no choice for what was done to me as a child, that power you found in me. It was forced on me, and now I don't want to lose the last remnants of what has been there all my life. But a year ago I had an opportunity that would have opened up to me unbelievable power, enough to make this a mere pittance in comparison. For a second I tasted the dream of holding that power in my hands, as you just did. I had to make that same choice. You have to be willing to bury the part of you that cringes in horror. For me, I couldn't bury it deep enough. There are some of us that just aren't meant to cross those lines."

Maxical rolled over and hugged Abiene. "Thank you, Abiene. Thank you."

As she pulled back she saw a large area of pink flesh on her stomach that should have been covered in white fur.

"GAAAAH! Where's my fur?"



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 8 2013, 05:25 AM

The Shadow returned to the kitchen, sensing his minimal role in this procedure was over. These three knew each other, he barely did. Best to let them have their post-session catharses and discussions.

He started looking over the larder and grabbed various ingredients. He started to mix various things into a pot adding water. Vegetable stew was easy enough.


"Eyja, fix me something to eat, I'm hungry. Is there any more of that bread Seth made?" He overheard.

It suddenly occurred to him he hadn't made Serene's masterpiece after her culinary expedition to Wayrest a couple of decades ago. Strawberry shortcake. He went to work on some of the flour.

If this is all she eats, perhaps she'd appreciate it in a different form. He thought whipping the cream with a certain zest.

In a corner of his mind, his wife stood at the doorway looking at him performing such a uncharacteristic task in a distant memory. The first time she'd stopped by Ilmeni and his house, he'd been sprucing the place up with a broom, and she couldn't but help to be shocked for a good half an hour afterwards.

I'm old. Older than most. Even most Dunmer don't live as long as I have, much less look this good for 230. It's really not so strange that I'd pick up hobbies here and there, would it?

He went over the strange events in his mind. An assassin. Another assassin protecting this assassin from that assassin. Assassinating that assassin. Needing a cure for a poisoned healer. Finding a missing charge kidnapped by a battlemage. Killing an Orc, twice. Killing the battlemage. Recovering Khajiits. Performing an esoteric form of healing and medical procedure on recovering Khajiits. Providing potions for skooma addiction.

Am I missing anything? He wondered. Probably.

He put the shortcake mix into the pan and let it bake as he stirred the stew, adding a pinch more of salt.

Now we can probably focus on Abiene's troubles more. That woman is selfless to a fault. That admirable trait will get you killed someday. He thought wryly.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 8 2013, 06:50 PM

Mopey Abiene

Maxical snapped Abiene out of her spiraling thoughts. Her voice sounded strong with a wheedling edge. “Eyja, fix me something to eat, I'm hungry. Is there any more of that bread Seth made?”

Eyja bustled out. Sethyas seemed to have simply evaporated.

Abiene crawled up onto the bed with Maxical. It was a relief to turn her attention fully outward again.

Maxical spoke of her own trials, limitless power, and an ancient necromancer. “You have to be willing to bury the part of you that cringes in horror,” she said. “For me, I couldn't bury it deep enough. There are some of us that just aren't meant to cross those lines.”

It’s that horrified part that keeps me from crossing, thought Abiene. I don’t want to put a name to the rest of it. Still, Maxical’s words brought a world of comfort. She felt a bond of understanding grow between them.

Abiene’s stomach rumbled as they embraced. It was not a growl of hunger.

Uh oh.

“GAAAAH!” shrieked Maxical. “Where's my fur?”

A large pink patch of skin showed in the white fur over her abdomen.

“Oops!” cried Abiene. “I forgot to— Oh, my stomach!” She clutched at the cramp in her middle, a loud sound announcing the source of her distress.

Mother Mara, I ate all of that Shepherd’s Pie!

“Maxical, please forgive me… ugh, I need the urn!”

Abiene hiked up her skirt and ran, taking position in the nick of time. Her lower digestive system had emptied before she could push the door shut.

“By the Nine,” she moaned, bracing an arm against the wall. Sweat broke out on her face. “Did Eyja seal this window?” The spell scroll was still on the table downstairs. Gods, thought Abiene. No wonder Master Selvilo didn’t want me at the chapel.

“There is no cause for alarm!” she called out in case anyone was fool enough to crack the door open. “At least we know Seth’s potion is working!”

Sethyas' shoulders shook as he laughed as quietly as he could.

She's doing just fine. He thought. And perhaps I was a little thick on the goat cheese.

He took the pan off the fireplace, and let the shortcake start cooling.

Vegetable stew indeed. He glanced at the pot and gave it another swirl, and tasting it.

As Eyja entered, he smiled at her disgusted expression.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to deliver good Abiene one more potion, would you? I have a remedy for her...condition. I should have warned her to take it easy on eating while the body purged itself." He said pulling out a small vial that was a bright pink.

He lit one more Hackle-Lo. "And give her this as well. It's more for our benefit than hers, but she doesn't need to know that. The smoke will eliminate any other...vapors in the air."

OOC: Mopey Abiene indeed! ROFL!

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 8 2013, 08:52 PM

*

Maxical:

The fear of feeling pain when she moved kept her still for the first few mintues after Abiene left, but the lingering afterscent of her obvious digestive distress was too much to bear. The thought of Seth coming back upstairs and thinking she had done it was the deciding factor in her attempting to get out of bed.

She rolled to her side carefully, gripping the bed's edge. No pain. She pushed her legs over the edge and let them dangle. No pain. How did Abiene do it? Even after Hannibal's treatments or surgeries she'd felt pain.

Lastly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. No pain. Maxical tested her legs, her hand out to grab the nightstand if they didn't hold. They held, though standing made her head feel a little woozy.

Abiene had fully healed her, as if the wound had never existed...and Malan hadn't come. She was safe for now. Oddly, the hungering for the cream was gone too. Had Seth's potion worked that well, or had Abiene's healing cured the addiction too?

The lightheadedness was probably from laying around for so many days, she wasn't used to being idle. Maxical moved carefully, holding onto the bed and then the dresser, then the wall and banister railing; afraid the dizziness would have her tumbling down the steps and she'd be sent back to bed.

She worked her way quietly to the kitchen where all the noise was coming from, holding on to solid surfaces as she went; and was shocked to see Eyja sitting in a chair watching while Seth bustled around cooking.

Instead of disrupting them, she slid silently into the overstuffed bench chair by the door inside the kitchen and did exactly what Eyja was doing, watched Seth cook.

There was a rapport between them, as if they'd known each other longer than they legitimately had. Seth lit a hackle-lo and gave it to Eyja with a grin. When she heard it was to clear the air for Abiene, Maxical nodded, and broke her silence just before Eyja turned to leave with the hackle-lo in her hand.

"Yes Eyja, please."

"What are you doing down here? You get back to bed this instant!"

"I can't, I was forced from my room by Abiene."

"She told you to come down here?"

"In a manner of speaking. What has she been eating? Whatever it is, it has made her teeth and lips black."

"She's been eating charcoal, and don't you dare mention the black teeth to her, Maxical. She doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Eyja left the kitchen, holding the hackle-lo awkwardly and waving it in front of her.

"What are you making, Seth?"





*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 8 2013, 09:14 PM

Seth looked up with a bemused glance at Maxical.

"Eyja told me that all you eat is strawberries and sweetbread. Then you spoke of having cream as a treat as a child. It reminded me of this recipe I learned from my spouse a while ago. It's from High Rock, Wayrest specifically. Strawberries and shortcake, with whipped cream. Quite delectable in it's own right, haven't made it in some time. That and some vegetable stew, both are rather simple and quick." he replied.

He went back to his work, but continued speaking.

"You've been through quite a bit over these last couple of days. I wonder: How are you doing?" He asked, his voice clearly implying the skooma, but also her general state.

He nodded as he heard her report.

"You're quite fortunate to have a friend in Eyja as well. She is...very skilled." He smiled.

*

Maxical:


She hadn’t really been hungry, just trying to get Eyja away so she could talk to Abiene for a second. But sweetcake and strawberries mixed? It sounded delicious.

The idea of cream after what she had just been through with the addiction was a little iffy, but when he whipped it up it rose into stiff white peaks that looked intriguing.

“Not exactly all I eat. I love grilled crab, but can’t eat it anymore. Khajiit can’t eat meat if they aren’t...breeding; it creates a hunger in us to mate. I actually like any fruit, strawberries is just my favorite. And I love anything sweet. Kind of odd diet for a trained athlete, but it works for me.”

She pulled herself up and moved carefully to the table, sitting in the chair Eyja had been in.

“Is there any coffee left? I‘m afraid I can‘t pour it myself yet, look...” She held up her hand and showed him the tremor.

She pointed to the cream and sugar after he lay a steaming mug in front of her, then started ladling spoon after spoonful of sugar into the coffee.

“Eyja is more than skilled, she is genius. Some time you should get her to tell you about the way she tricked her way into doing a purge on the Dark Brotherhood.”

She paused, looking up at him curiously.

“She is like a chameleon when she needs to be, but sometimes it upsets her when she has to. When I see her in those pajamas she’s wearing now, I know it was one of those times. What happened? I tried to eavesdrop, but couldn’t hear anything but muffled shouting from my bedroom.”


*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 8 2013, 11:00 PM

*

Eyja:

Eyja interrupted before Seth could answer.

"Has she tricked you into waiting on her with that fake shaking hand gimmick? She pulled it on me too, till her physician told me there was nothing making her hand tremor except wanting to see how long she could get away with me waiting on her. She had me making her bed too!"

Maxical grinned with pure mischief and held her hand up perfectly steadily. "Geez, Eyja. Tell-tale!"



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 8 2013, 11:19 PM

No wonder you eat all that sugar and don't have the least bit of fat on you. He thought in internal laughter.

“Eyja is more than skilled, she is genius. Some time you should get her to tell you about the way she tricked her way into doing a purge on the Dark Brotherhood.”

He blinked. That was exactly what he did to the Mournhold Chapter of the Dark Brotherhood nearly two hundred years ago.

He tried to open his mouth to talk then Ejya entered again interrupting him. He quickly finished her dessert from across the border and set in in front of her, with that little dollop of cream he could never get quite right.

"And...food's ready!" He offered.

He glanced at Eyja bemusedly. "I think what happened would be poorly described by me, as I hardly saw too much of what happened. Must have been funny though, she ran to the bath right after."

"I don't mind pouring a cup of coffee. I just don't make my bed. Never have." He said. It wasn't laziness, it was a way of telling if any one had been in his room while he was gone. You could replicate a made bed. You couldn't replicate an unmade one, and he took a mental picture of it before he left.

"It seems we have a bit more in common than I previously thought..." He chuckled.



This post has been edited by Black Hand: Aug 8 2013, 11:28 PM

*

Maxical:

Maxical didn’t know what Seth thought was funny, but Eyja running to the bath...she did know what that meant. She’d seen it happen after some of her jobs before. She shot Eyja a look of understanding, then changed the subject so Eyja wouldn’t have to be reminded of it.

“I tore your nice shirt, Seth. I’d replace it, but you’ll not find one like it in these parts.”

She turned the bowl in all directions, looking at the sweet concoction Seth had made for her.

“Can I eat yet? Will someone ask Abiene if I’m able to eat this soon?”


*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 9 2013, 01:16 AM

Seth realized he may have come across the wrong way. He was chuckling about the Dark Brotherhood Purification trickery, but knew that the bath thing was quite serious. He'd said his peace in that regard. he just wanted to protect Eyja's confidence, should there have been any in that regard.

"Don't worry about the cloth...it was old anyways. More like I reused the remaining amount that was left for more sentimental purposes." He said, motioning for her to eat.

"Since you seem to know a bit about the culture of Morrowind, perhaps you'd seen their like before. They are remnants of a robe made specifically for members of the Morag Tong. Usually the more magical-inclined. They are a mixture of decor with function. The red jewelry and the leather pouches for instance. The society was highly ritualized, and highly effective in their duties. I wore it for many years before it started to tatter even just a little." He spoke his story.

"Then eventually it started to become far too worn to wear. It stayed in a closet for many more years. Even after the Red Year. Then one day, I saw it, and thought I could bring some life back to it's remaining time. I mostly wear it as a reminder these days. For things that should never be forgotten."

*

Maxical:


“Mmmm, this is really good!" She swallowed before continuing.

"I spent a month in Tel Fyr a year ago, but didn't see much of Vvardenfell while I was there. That is the only time I’ve ever been outside of Cyrodiil that I remember. I was actually born on the Septim’s Gate Pass. My parents were both from Hlomaren on the Bitter Coast of Vvardenfell. They were traveling to Cyrodiil when I was born.”

She took another bite of the strawberry shortcake. “Mmmmm, this is so good!" She waited till she'd swallowed to talk again.

"When I was in Tel Fyr, I was only allowed out one time, to go shopping with my host’s daughter.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“I found out quite quickly that I was safest and better off staying in his tower the remainder of my visit. Khajiit females seem to be easy targets to kidnap for slaves there, and it was made clear to me that his daughter Beyte was embarrassed by being seen with a Khajiit. She walked in front of me and pretended she didn‘t know me when Master Aryon showed up.”

She reached down the top of her nightshirt and pulled out an antique looking gold necklace with a thick pendent of gold and small onyx stones inlaid marking the emblem of the 6th House.

“The man I was worried about showing while I was weak...” Maxical indicated upstairs by pointing.

“His name is Dagoth-Malan. This pendent is my protection from him. No one from House Dagoth can strike against me while I wear this pendent. I've enchanted it so it can never be removed, or Earana would have taken it from me when she put me in that robe.”

She toyed with the whipped cream for a second before finishing.

“For what he did to Gils and Fathis, I vowed that I would hound him through eternity; mark his name on my soul so when I died my soul would continue after him and he‘d never have another day‘s peace. I’ve been hunting him this past year, making his life a living hell. But when I am weak he knows it and hunts me.”

She stirred her spoon into the strawberry juices to mix them with the whipped cream.

“Khajiit are the most loyal people you will find, but also the kind of enemy you don’t want to make. We never give up. An eye for an eye, a spouse for a spouse. For what he did to Gils and Fathis, I vowed I’d bury his wife in so many pieces he’d never be able to find them all. She was a century dead, and the only thing he treasured. When I vow something, I keep my word.”

Seth’s brows raised slightly. She gathered he was either asking or doubting.

“I hid fragments of her all over Cyrodiil; kind of like a treasure hunt. But I hid each with an enemy of his, or an enemy of the empire. He has inadvertently cleared full armies of enemies to the throne that I was tasked in my service for Cyrodiil to destroy; and dissipated his own army by more than half searching for her this year alone.”

She paused to stir her strawberry juices again.

“He had three vials of her blood in a shrine, taken from her before they wed when she was still virginal. The wife's virgin blood is considered sacred to vampires. I duplicated them and distributed her virgin blood to every vampire clan in Cyrodiil under the condition they toast his wife’s name as they drank it. In his rage that they had tasted his wife's virgin blood, he cleared a major chunk out of the vampire problem Cyrodiil has...also something I was tasked to do in my service to Cyrodiil. He wants me dead so badly he tastes it.”




*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 9 2013, 08:01 AM

Abiene walked slowly through the bedchamber trailing a fragrant cloud. The pink potion had worked its wonder and so had the bath. Now she was enjoying the last of the hackle-lo. She hadn’t meant to smoke the whole thing. She’d even put it out to save for later after the worst of her odor was resolved. But these things happen.

I haven’t smoked in years, she thought. And never alone. Nor fully clothed. The last made her chuckle. Scent was a powerful trigger for memories both pleasant and otherwise. She chose the good ones to keep her company until she was ready to rejoin the group.

The tone was serious when Abiene entered the kitchen. She placed Seth’s cleaned vial on a side table, mouthing a fervent thank you so as not to interrupt Maxical. She sat down to listen as Maxical finished her tale. House Dagoth… Abiene began to think that she was the least likely target for assassination in the room.

Are you certain Mephala hasn't tasked you?

"Interesting. I know of House Dagoth. Quite well. You may say I've met the former Lord High Councilor; Voryn Dagoth. In a certain form." Sethyas stirred the stew.

I also slayed him in God-Form...but good luck in telling anyone of that.

"Do not worry. House Dagoth is...was my enemy. The Sixth House fell in its most recent incarnation over two hundred years ago. That does not mean that practitioners didn't exist between those times. Indeed, they've been recorded of coming back in many different forms over the last four millenia." He narrated.

"Perhaps you have read, 'A Poison Song'?" He continued. "Fiction, to be certain. But...it was based upon real events. Dagoth Ur as well had the power to enter into the dreams of mortals and slowly drive them mad, eventually swaying them under his power." His eyes looked into space, as though reliving some horror.

"At the Center of Red Mountain, once laid the Heart of Lorkhan; Lorkhaj to the Khajiiti, Shor to the Nords, the Missing God to all. From this powerful artifact, did Dagoth Ur draw his terrible power. Later, after his defeat it was revealed that this source was the same for the now-defunct Tribunal."

"The Dunmer have always been a suspicious and duplicitous society. This is why the Morag Tong existed: to maintain some semblance of a balance of power. But, the former House; The Sixth House, was exterminated by all Houses for their particular brand of treachery, and ascent for Supreme Power....no matter the cost."

"If a Dagoth still lives, it is no friend of mine either." He finished stirring.

"Stew's done!"

*


Maxical:


“Dagoth-Ur you mean? This pendent I wear was plundered from the 6th house in the raid where Ur was slain about five or six years ago. The man that actually killed Ur gave his take from the raid to some poor villagers. One sold this to pay his food and shelter. It was the luck of the gods that I found it in that shop in Tel Fyr, it has saved my life.”

Maxical took the last bite of the strawberry shortcake before continuing.

“Ur’s immortal blood was created by the great power of the Heart of Lorkhan. The foundation for Dagoth-Malan’s immortal army was a few vials of blood stolen from Ur while he slept; and during a time when the power of that heart was strong in it. Malan had full reliance in that blood to bring his wife back to life eternally, raising her soul in a living body he had injected with that blood.”

She broke off to hand her bowl to Eyja, thanking Seth. “That was delicious, thank you Seth.” Maxical took a sip of coffee before continuing.

“Originally he planned to use me for that, but I threatened to do so many vile things to his wife’s soul while it was inside me that he removed her in fear for her safety. I told him I would bring her to the King of Worms, to Clavicus Vile, to enemy vampire clans...anything I could think of.”

She pointed to herself.

“When you are tiny, people tend to discount you as an enemy. I knew his only weakness was that wife of his, so the threats bore fruit. I was safe as long as she was inside me, had all the control. He couldn’t kill me without killing her again.”

Seth mentioned “The Poison Song,” one of her favorite stories.

“I have read it, I even did a book report on it at the Arcane. It is one of my favorite stories.”

She wrinkled her nose and waved the stew away. “No thanks. I don’t eat stuff like that.”

She turned to Abiene.

“Are you feeling okay dearest Abiene? I hope you are not ill. I want to know who is trying to kill you, they have made an enemy in me for it.”


*

Abiene gave Maxical a reassuring smile. “I’m perfectly fine and feeling stronger by the moment, thank you for asking. This is a lot for me to take in. History and story books come to life.”

She put her hands in her lap, fingers twisting together. Maxical’s declaration of loyalty warmed her heart, but it brought a host of worries. It sounded as if she had more than enough enemies of her own. Helping her might expose Maxical. Abiene glanced uneasily at Eyja. Surely Maxical’s guardian wouldn’t let that happen.

“I’ve put some thought to who might want me dead. I confess I’m having a hard time seeing it. I’m a good healer but that’s all that I do. I’m not some heiress to title or fortune, and those who would want to threaten a friend through me wouldn’t have used that poison. I can’t even guess why they attacked here at the Goblet. I wasn’t supposed to be here that morning, I should have been back in Chorrol. I only stopped here overnight because of the storm.”

Abiene took a breath and stilled her fidgeting. What she had seen at the mountaintop made her feel safe here with these three, but no one would protect her forever.

“How do you suppose it works when one hires an assassin? What I mean is does the contract become invalid if the killer is caught? How long…” She looked down at her hands, struggling for composure. “I’m afraid I sound like a silly child, but it’s hard to imagine that I have such an enemy.”

*

Eyja:

"If it was a pro, it depends on the organization the assassin works with. Some organizations fulfill the contract even after the person who took it out has died. If there are any alchemists capable of making this level of poison nearby, they must be suspect as being involved with the attempt, or involved with an organization that is in the business of assassins for hire."


*