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What Always Follows

Started by Valtxr, May 11, 2017, 11:16:48 PM

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Valtxr

(((Continuing from Not until we are lost... do we find ourselves again(Open) )))

   An odd method of travel. But effective.
   Nisreen had allowed herself to be carried by Aven through the streets and the occasional rooftop of Reajh. The starry night cloaking their movements. She had only heard tales in Arca of beings that could move like Aven could move. Intensely gracefully, physically powerful. Beings that were superior to humans in many regards, perhaps lacking in others; hence their non-proliferation throughout all the lands of Le'raana.
   So many questions! And Aven even said that he, too, was a scholar. Despite the horrific incident back near the tavern, things seemed to be looking up. Perhaps her persistent bad luck was finished for the night.
   "What is this place you mentioned? Is it popular among other locals?" Nisreen considered her words. "Hmm. I shouldn't say 'locals' like that, should I? Sounds too detached. I don't want to seem cold."
   Nisreen considered her words again. Seem cold...did that count? Oh, did that count as a pun? It probably did. And she didn't even mean to say it this time. Just stumbled into it. Awful. Truly awful of her. Surely, she would need to double and triple proofread her notes and future written works for unintentional puns. The first time, with Adam, was a small bit of guilty fun. This time? Unacceptable.
   Perhaps this was the last masterstroke of her bad luck. And now it would take the night off.
   Nisreen held onto Aven. Actually enjoying the orthodox ride through the city.

* * * * *

   Laython sat like a king at the table. He was inside his personal room in the brothel he recently acquired in Reajh. The yellow-light lantern hanging from the ceiling glowed brilliantly. Spectre and Ghost, his bodyguards, stood behind him to either side, as they usually did. The night lights of Reajh through the large window behind him.
   A knock at the door.
   "Enter," he said.
   The man did. Closed it and walked up to the table and stood before him. Didn't sit. A small-time underboss; he knew his place.
   Laython leaned back in his luxurious chair. Elbows on the arm rests. Hands steepled.
   "How did it go?"
   The underboss narrowed his eyes. "You didn't say the targets had a mage with them."
   Ghost and Spectre each laid a hand on their holstered pistols.
   Laython smiled. A mocking gesture. "No. I didn't. Because there wasn't a mage with them."
   "Bullshit. I lost two loyal men tonight. One of them because he was trapped by a magic spell. The men who escaped all saw it. So cut the shit."
   Laython tilted his head. "So. You wish for me to apologize for their mishap?"
   "You knew that mage was there."
   "I know of many mages in Connlaoth. Many of whom are indebted to me. But this was not one of them."
   A move forward. "You—"
   Spectre drew his pistol. Pointed it at the underboss. Shook his head. The underboss froze. Laython raised his right hand and his bodyguard lowered the weapon.
   "Let's return to business. Despite the interference, did your men do their job?"
   The underboss hesitated. "They got Youssef and his son."
   "Then they did their job. Well done."
   Averted eyes. "There was a third."
   "A third."
   "Yes."
   "Did your men give you a description?"
   The underboss nodded. Gave Laython the details.
   Laython scratched his chin. Considered it. "A woman."
   "Could've just been a passenger. A bystander."
   Laython smirked. "There are no bystanders. Everyone is hiding something. Everyone knows something. Everyone has an agenda. Never think otherwise."
   "Want my men to track her down?"
   "That won't be necessary. She'll expose herself to me if she happens to be in the business."
   The underboss waited. Shifted his weight in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Laython watched him squirm. Watched him work up the nerve to ask the inevitable question. Amused by his struggle.
   "And...my payment?"
   Laython suddenly drummed his hands on the table. The underboss flinched. "Yes. Your information. Return here at the end of the week. I expect to have confirmation of Mr. Deegan's death by then. The source is good. Reliable."
   "Thank—"
   "You're dismissed." Laython said with a flick of his hand.
   The underboss turned and walked to the door and opened it and left. The door closed.
   Laython sat in the chair for a long time, Spectre and Ghost standing quietly behind him. Then he glanced back over his shoulder. Looked out through the window. The beautiful sight of Reajh at night. The blackened cityscape, dotted throughout with torches and lanterns and crowned by the stars.
   All of it. Ripe for the taking.
   Corrupt the roots. Corrupt the tree.

Wycliff

Aven darted across the city, muscles billowing under his clothes as the tendrils of Dark Matter controlled his movements. They were swift, almost elegant in the manner that his feet briefly touched the ground before rocketing off once more. As they sailed along the canvas of the night sky, Nisreen asked her first question. Aven laughed, the sound carried slightly away by the air rushing past. "No, this place is known only to me. Not even the General knows of this place."

They crossed over the outer wall of the city, landing with a small cloud of dust in a clearing of trees. Aven set Nisreen onto her feet once more, ensuring for a moment that she was able to stand, before reaching down to the ground, and pulling up the earth itself, to reveal a very cleverly hidden trap door under the sod. He opened the wooden door, revealing a short ladder down to a staircase. He winks, a proud grin on his face. "This is my study away from home."


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Valtxr

   Nisreen stumbled a bit as her boots touched the forest floor. Unsteady for a short moment. Disorienting, to say the least, to be still and on solid ground again after their almost literal flight from the city. She could barely fathom how creatures gifted with the ability to fly managed it. How Aven managed it, for that matter.
   She held a hand to her chest once her balance returned in full. Smiled awkwardly. "I suppose I should say that I've never really traveled like that before. It's...quite the experience."
   Then Aven revealed the trap door. An elegant solution to the often tricky problem of keeping prying eyes away from one's business. If Aven hadn't already mentioned that he was a Captain, then this would surely have been evidence enough that he was well-established in and around Reajh. The time and resources necessary to build this secluded structure into the Earth itself must have been staggering.
   "Your study? Wonderful. I promise I won't make a mess. Well, actually, I'll go a step further: I won't touch anything without your permission. I wouldn't want to be an inconsiderate guest."
   She eyed the ladder and the staircase below it. Then Aven. Waited for him to take the lead so she could follow him inside.

Wycliff

Aven chuckled. Nisreen was considerate, perhaps to a minor fault. "Don't worry too much about it, most of the documents here are mere copies of my original research notes. Feel free to probe around as you please." His form melds into the darkness below his feet, seemingly sinking into the ground as his shadow becomes darker than black, and darts down into the passageway. His voice echoes from below. "Close the hatch behind you, if can."


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Valtxr

   Goodness. Free rein of the place? How generous. Though Nisreen longed to eventually craft her own original work and contribute the growing library of the world's knowledge, it never hurt to consult the writings and research of others. A good foundation from which she could better understand the world around her and all of its various phenomena. Aven's perspective, as well as that of other scholars, could help her sharpen and find her own.
   Ah? Oh. He...disappeared. Into the ground. Into the night's darkness. Um. Okay. Ah...now what?
   Nisreen stood there, flabbergasted, in that short moment. These members of this "Ansgar's Hand" organization certainly had a number of tricks at their disposal. Were they gifted by the god Ansgar himself? Possibly. There were all sorts of legends and tales of deities and demigods handing out blessings and favors and curses and damnations. Perhaps she'd even track down and substantiate some of these fantastic claims.
   Aven called from down in the underground study.
   "Oh. There you are! I think." She took off her spectacles and squinted. Objects within arm's reach became blurry, but her vision without them at longer distances became slightly better without them. Optic technology was so crude. And expensive. "Are you there? Oh, well, I suppose you must be. Somewhere. I did hear you, after all. Okay. I'm coming down."
   She started down the ladder. Considered her height. Grabbed hold of the hatch while still on the ladder and swung it shut.
   Full dark. Nisreen was as blind as any regular human in such conditions. She'd read of...others, like her, though she didn't seem very much like them. She couldn't do any of the things they allegedly could do, and seeing perfectly in the dark was definitely on that list of shortcomings.
   Nisreen got off of the ladder. Stood on the top landing of the stairs. A bit unsure.
   "Uh. Okay. I'm here. Could I trouble you to turn on a light? I can't see anything."

Wycliff

Aven lightly smacked his forehead. Of course, she couldn't see in the dark like him, he hadn't brought anyone to that study before, so he forgot completely about turning on the lights. Making his way over to the desk, he tapped a small orb, which filled the room with a slightly dimmed, but more than adequate light. When he procured the enchanted orb, an import from Serendipity, he'd actually requested the enchantment be purposefully weakened, so that it would not negatively effect his mind while he worked. The light level was a perfect neutral, not bright, but light enough to read black ink with no issue. As light filled the space, stacks of handwritten notes, various magical texts, and a myriad of different measuring instruments would greet Nisreen. Aven grinned, a sense of pride blooming in his chest to be able to share his research with someone who would appreciate it. "Welcome to my study, Miss Amora, feel free to browse. Though, I'm curious as to what you're searching for in particular: sorting through these notes yourself may not prove efficient, if I'm to be honest."


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Valtxr

   Nisreen stood on the landing of the stairs, looking down into the study. Awestruck.
   Marvelous! It seemed she could get more than a simple lay of the land in here. The notes. The texts. The instruments and devices, of which she had no idea what function any of them performed. Ah, the joy of not knowing, of the opportunity to learn and discover. Wonder existed in both the infinite possibilities of the unknown and in the inspiring clarity of the known.
   Nisreen couldn't help it. Like Aven, she too grinned as the light illuminated the study. Exposed her fangs for just a moment. Too distracted to be aware that she had done so.
   She briskly stepped down the stairs and into the study proper. She glanced at the tables with the notes and texts. Eh, she might need Aven's help reading those. Coming from a working family in Arca, she had never learned to read or write while she was alive. After she became afflicted with her condition, she spent a lot of time teaching herself, with some assistance from fellow brothers and sisters while in the Anatta cult. She had reached a decent level of proficiency, but some dense scholarly works still gave her trouble.
   So she turned instead to the instruments. Walked over to that table. Put her glasses back on and gazed over them with a hand to her chin and the other on her hip.
   She looked up to Aven when he asked his question. "Quite a number of a things, to be honest. I've never actually been outside the city of Arca in Serendipity before. I've only ever heard of other lands and peoples by word of mouth, really. I've read some texts and a couple books, but I've had, um, some difficulty with them. Acquiring them has been my biggest problem. I would very much like to know about the people and the cultures of the lands I visit."
   Nisreen held her hands in front of herself. "But my focus is on theology. I wish to know how others view the world and what may be beyond it, and why they see the world one way and not another. It...fascinates me. These grand ideas are quite majestic and humbling to ponder. I understand that these ideas are heart-felt beliefs, a sensitive subject to approach and question, no matter how gently I go about it. Which is why I think I need to understand the people who hold the beliefs first. Adopt their perspectives for a time."
   She smiled. "Certainly a daunting task. But rewarding, I should hope."

Wycliff

Aven's eyes flashed intrigue as he spied the fangs in her mouth, his grin widening. It was the last piece of the puzzle, along with her red eyes and pale skin. The woman was a vampire! He'd never actually met one, though he'd read various texts detailing their common abilities. Odd, night vision was usually one of them, by what he'd learned, were the texts faulty? No matter. Theology...

Aven took a seat at the desk, crossing his legs. "Theology, huh? That's quite a challenging field, I'm impressed. Sadly, most things that I would know about various theologies you've likely already crossed before. I'm a magical researcher, at least the majority of my efforts swing in that direction. The notes you'll find here are almost solely of magical persuasion, I'm afraid the religious texts I've come across were borrowed." He rubs the back of his neck, now thoroughly embarrassed that he couldn't assist her in her search, despite claiming the ability to do just that. "I apologize, Theology is one of the subjects I don't delve in often. Even in terms of Ansgar, I know very little. I am not a man of faith, you see, but one of science." Come to think of it, there was that Void he could discuss, and the partial origin of magic he'd learned. Could that count as theology?


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Valtxr

   "Oh. Is that so? I had the strangest thought about this Ansgar's Hand organization of yours. I...um...well, I assumed that you were associated with the Church here in Connlaoth. Along with," she blushed. Reflex, again, to her embarrassment, "other, um, peculiar notions. About you. And rooftops. And what you do on rooftops. My, it sounds silly saying this out loud."
   She shook her head. "But never mind all that. Magic is an intrinsic part of this world, and thus, I'd be remiss if I dismissed it outright. I suppose this is a good segue into proper introductions. Please, tell me a bit about yourself and how you've come to be a man of science and magic. I would certainly like to a know a bit more about my gracious host."
   Nisreen glanced around for another chair. Found one. Picked it up and set it down on the opposite side of desk and sat. Her hands in her lap.

Wycliff

Aven's face lit up like a candle at her first notions. The blush on her cheeks hinted at scandalous thoughts by Aven's reckoning, a misunderstanding, of course. "W-what do you mean, I've never done it on a rooftop!" He calmed himself slowly, coughing to clear his throat. "Ahem... as for Ansgar's Hand, you are correct: they are affiliated with the church. However, I am unlike any other member of the faction, as I am the very thing they vow to hunt. A mage."

He goes on to explain his infiltration into Ansgar's Hand through the help of Hakon, as well as the hatred that followers of Ansgar hold for magic, as decreed by their god, and how that belief had drawn the country down the path it was currently taking. He realized part way through the explanation that what he was detailing was actually a facet of Theology, and took additional steps to give as much information as possible, though he in truth knew little of the intricacies of the faith.

"...and that's the long and short of that. So, no, I highly doubt you would see any other Ansgar's Hand members jumping onto and from rooftops frequently." He pauses from the lecture to take a breath. Did he want to reveal any more about his past to the stranger? As she was a vampire, it was obvious she bore no threat to his and Hakon's secrets, since she couldn't exactly go to authorities to report it. Still, he was curious about her as well, and information was a give and take when sharing. "Before I continue about myself, what about you? I caught glimpse of your fangs, and paired with crimson eyes, it's obvious you are of a member of the nosferatu. I've never met one, are you a pure blood or infected?"


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Valtxr

   A chain reaction of blushing. Aven's reddened cheeks only made Nisreen's redden more as well. A natural reflex of his leading to an unnatural reflex of hers.
   Oh. Oh no. What a mess. She could have worded that better. So much better. As it was, there was far too much room for interpretation. Though, now that she considered it, it did seem plausible that Aven very well could have sexual intercourse on a rooftop he wanted to. Physically speaking, getting onto said rooftops would be quick, easy, and discreet. Perhaps the most difficult part would be finding a willing participant to join who could also—
   Aven cleared his throat, breaking her increasingly lewd train of thought. That was probably for the best. Before she got carried away again. On that particular subject. Ahem.
   The very thing they vow to hunt. A mage.
   "Oh? Intriguing."
   Nisreen reached into her satchel and scrounged around for some blank paper and a quill and a small bottle of ink. She jotted down notes and quick annotations as Aven explained the basics of Ansgarism and the Civil War and the Ansgar's Hand Heavy Cavalry. Some minor misspelling and typographic errors; a few she recognized, a few she didn't. A foundation of knowledge. Enough to give her some sense of familiarization with this strange and fascinating country.
   What a tale. Two sworn enemies, a mage and an Adhara Mordecai, Aven and Hakon, bound by duty to be pitted against one another, and yet...they overcame it. Even found love. And now they both served in Ansgar's Hand, seeking to bring peace to their war-torn country.
   Such a personal account of the Civil War and its effects truly shed light on—
   ...your fangs...
   Nisreen froze. Her quill stopping mid-word. It slipped from her fingers.
   Then she slapped her hand over her mouth. Regarding Aven with no small amount of fear in her eyes. Oh no. No, no, no. How could she have been so careless?
   She waited for it. But Aven made no sudden moves. No attempt to attack her. Wait...he wasn't even...
   Nisreen slowly lowered her hand from her mouth. "You...you're not afraid? I...um...most people don't react well if they find out about my...uh...condition. They...they usually try to kill me, to be frank. Some just chase me away, out into the sun or elsewhere. But they all give me this look. This same distinct look. Pure spite. Like I'm a rabid animal. Like all I want to do is...eat them, I suppose."
   Her lips twitched. She glanced away. Opened her mouth to say something else but stopped herself.
   A shameful silence.

Wycliff

Nisreen's dutiful scrawling was entertaining to watch: was he that focused when he was studying? Probably. The two of them were definitely birds of a feather. In response to his question, though, her demeanor changed drastically, filling with fear and shame. Aven smiles gently, shaking his head. "Of course, I'm not afraid of you. You're a caring person from what I've seen, your race doesn't change that. Besides..." His eyes blossomed with black particles, which also began to emit from his body at random intervals, orbiting softly around him. "...I'm more of a monster than you are. A dark matter shadow being, to be precise." A tendril of shadow rose beside him, and he stroked a finger along it. "So, there's no need to feel shame, I don't judge people on their race or stature. And yes, I've seen that look you speak of myself, the horror and fear in a person's eyes when they encounter something they do not understand, nor wish to. You will not find such ignorance in me, thankfully."

Aven relaxes back into his chair with a smile. "So, perhaps you could tell me a bit more about yourself. I can't be the only one spilling my past, can I?"


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Valtxr

   Oh what a relief.
   Nisreen exhaled as her mind calmed down; an old, obsolete, yet persistent gesture from many years ago, when she could still feel her heart beating. Her chest didn't move after that. Still, just like before.
   As Aven explained himself and demonstrated his own peculiarities, Nisreen touched her face. Noticed the blurry splotch on her glasses. Stole a glance down at her tunic.
   Youssef's blood. Still on her. How awkward, to be sitting there, trying to hold a civil conversation while looking like a wolf that had just finished with a hefty helping of caribou. Note: Inquire about washing up and cleaning clothes before leaving.
   She refocused her attention on Aven. On the black particles about him and the familiar shadow tendril that arched up beside him. A dark matter shadow being? Interesting. He appeared human, much like her. What could be the reason? Hers was undoubtedly a means of infiltration; those like her who appeared distinctly inhuman were probably all dead, by starvation or otherwise.
   Her turn for an introduction. She had few key things to share about her life...and undeath.
   "Ah. Okay. Where to start...well, I suppose when I was alive. Yes. I'm from Arca, born into a large working family. I was the youngest of the bunch, and we all helped our father in his leatherworking craft and our mother in her tailoring craft. Goodness...it's...it's been so long since I've seen them. Years. Ten, maybe? I just...well, to be honest, I was afraid. Afraid for them, and also afraid of what they would think of me if they saw me like this. If they knew. So..." She shrugged. Looked down at her hands in her lap. "...I kind of disappeared on them. Let them believe...what it is they believe happened to me. I'm not entirely sure if it was the best choice to make, but it's the one I did make. So...here I am. Ten or so years later, knowing nothing of them, and they knowing nothing of me."
   Nisreen paused. Eyed Aven. Still a bit unsure.

Wycliff

Aven listened intently to the tale, gleaning what he could. So she was turned, then. By definition, he couldn't imagine there being too many pure blooded vampires out there, anyway. HE sighed when she spoke of leaving her family without warning. He could only imagine the sadness they felt, having a loved one disappear so suddenly, but he had no room to speak on the matter.

Aven uncrossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees. "If I may, you seem broken up about the matter. I won't sit here and tell you it was a mistake to leave your family so suddenly, without explanation, because I made the exact same choice. When I discovered dark matter, and became one with my shadow, I was frightened: debilitating so, in fact. Under such stress, it is hard to think of the positives, hard to rationalize taking the risk of exposing such a dark secret to those you care about." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the tendril. "What if they despised you, chased you out like a wild beast, disowned you for being a monster? The grief of such knowledge would be unbearable, is it worth the risk?"

He paused here, raising his left hand, where the ring he received from Hakon rested. "Maybe it was the right decision, maybe not. The past cannot be changed: however, remember that there are humans in this world that can look past your looks, past your faults, your conditions. These are the people that love you, who would likely give anything to see your face once more, even if it came with a set of fangs." He smiled gently at the idea, simply talking about it reminding him that he had such people in his life. "Despite my condition, my mother and father embraced me when I returned, simply happy that I was still walking this earth, even if it was as a dark matter being."

He lowered his hands back to his knees, pointing nonchalantly at her chest. "Besides, if you weren't aware, though your hearts beats no longer, your body afflicted with undeath, your soul remains intact. That is the reprieve granted by vampirism, and thus, vampirism is quite curable with the right processes. Bottom line, behind those fangs resides the same person you were before you turned." His hand travels to his own chest, stopping over the warm thump of his heart, the smile fading from his visage. "What I'm about to tell you stays between us, and us alone. Dark matter does not afford the same luxury as vampirism. I may retain a living body, yes, but my soul is black, tainted. There is no cure, and though I am the same person I have always been, should I die, there is no rest for me, nothing to follow. I will simply fade into nothing."

Valtxr

   They certainly had a substantial amount of common ground between them. Replace a few choice words here and there in Aven's story, and it would have been Nisreen's. But he had taken the step that Nisreen had not: ending the estrangement from his family. He seemed quite the optimist, and it appeared to have served him well. His mother and father accepted him for what he was.
   It seemed almost too good to be true. A storybook conclusion in the real world. The sort of thing that happened exclusively to other people. Something Nisreen could only gaze at and long for at a distance.
   Hard to admit. The difficult truth. That she preferred the estrangement from her family, despite the grief it caused her and surely them as well. It offered the bliss of not knowing. The bliss of possibility. The potential joy of maybe being accepted, as Aven was accepted. And it came with no risk. And it could last forever if she let it. If she went to them, reconnected with her family, let them see the truth...then the definite would conquer the possible. And then that would be the new forever. For better. Or worse.
   Aven's demeanor changed as he held a hand over his heart. Grave. Serious.
   He spoke of what awaited him. Annihilation. That which seemed a likely end to life, should there be no true gods or afterlife. That which most people couldn't even comprehend from the sheer horror of it. Of losing everything for eternity. An infinite blackness.
   "Oh...oh." Her voice a bit shaky. "That sounds awful. I won't tell a soul. Wait. Let me rephrase that; I didn't mean to sound insensitive. Ahem. I won't tell anyone. I promise."
   The tense moment passed soon enough, and the heavy weight of the previous subject matter lifted.
   Nisreen tried to smile. "Shall I continue? Let's see...oh yes. Turning. I should say that the mostly sedentary life of my mother and father didn't appeal to me very much. I always got in trouble a lot when I was younger because I would wander up and down the streets of Arca by myself. I even slept in a tavern one night with a group of traveling bards. Wait. No. Hold on. I need to rephrase that too. I don't mean...that. I mean that I slept in the same tavern. They tried to teach me to sing for most of the night. I was...admittedly not very good. Terrible is an appropriate word. But it was fun, and we all laughed. I just, you know, sort of fell asleep at one of the tables by myself. The insomniac barkeep didn't seem to care, and the bards stayed the night in their own rooms. The bards woke me the next morning, helped me back home, and...um...well, my father made me scrub out the waste pails for the entire family for a month. I think I deserved it. I gave my parents quite the scare when I didn't return home."
   Nisreen shifted some in her chair. "Well, this wanderlust is how he lured me in. Xerrat was his name. Brilliant, really, how he got me. Read me easily, knew exactly what I wanted to hear. Very well played. He bit me and drank and...I died. I'm not sure why he left me to turn, but he did. I guess it doesn't matter much, because I haven't seen him since and now here I am, a vam—...well, having thought about the details, I've always found it hard to say that I'm a vampire. I share the same need to drink the blood of other human beings, but the similarities appear to stop there. Real vampires can perform quite a number of incredible feats. Objectively speaking, I consider myself more of a parasite than a vampire. It seems to be the most appropriate description of my condition. I take what I need from my hosts without killing them, and they don't get anything in return. It could seem demeaning to be called a parasite, I suppose, but...well, it just so happens to be true. I don't mind it. It's certainly better than being one of those vampires of legend, who ravage and kill and drain their victims dry on a whim. I mean, that's just rude, if nothing else."
   Nisreen considered her words. Her eyes rolling up to the corners of the sockets as she thought. "Oh. Um. Maybe I should have used a stronger word than 'rude'. It seems inadequate, in hindsight."

Wycliff

Aven's serious demeanor broke only seconds into her tale, taking on the lighthearted smile he usually wore. It was reassuring that she would keep the fact confidential, that much was certain. She seemed trustworthy enough. Regardless, her tale was more whimsical than he'd anticipated, or was that simply an effect of her storytelling style? Perhaps both, certainly not the dark history he'd expected from a turned vampire, minus the dying section. The information on her condition was quite interesting, as well: a vampire without the benefits. Sounded like a worse deal than he'd anticipated, his dark matter abilities were extremely potent in exchange for their drawbacks. He wondered...

Aven chuckled at her phrasing. "You're correct, in a way, draining hordes of people's blood dry without permission is quite rude indeed. Tell me, though, are you seeking a cure? It doesn't sound as though there is any reason for you to stay a, as you called it, parasite, when you could become human once more, perhaps even return to your family?" He reached over to a stack of papers, rifling through them. "I may not have the exact cure for vampirism here, but... somewhere..." He snatched another stack, flipping through at breakneck speed, until his face lit up in recognition, pulling out a few sheets with detailed magic circles that on them. "Here it is! The process for creating a cloak of darkness! It's a protective ritual for creatures that are negatively affected by sunlight."

His eyes scan the pages, murmuring a slew of nonsense to himself. "The matrix is quadratic, so I'll need to use at least a three layer sequence to cast it without the demon's horn... what script is that again? Hmm... if I rearranged the syntax, it could function independently, that would be best..." He continues on for a couple minutes, completely forgetting that he'd asked her a question.


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Valtxr

   A cure?
   Oh no. She would have to tell him. And she would seem to be either the biggest hypocrite he'd ever met, or the most uncaring daughter and sister in the world. Or both. Probably both. Of course it'd be both.
   But wait. He said he didn't have it. Instead, he busied himself with pouring over his notes and papers, looking for something else. Something about a...cloak of darkness? It had to be a small cloak if it could fit between some papers like that. Oh. No. Not a piece of attire. A ritual. That made far more sense.
   Nisreen's face strained in mounting puzzlement as Aven thought out loud. The what is what? A three layer sequence? What was the difference between that and a one or two layer sequence? Could it go up to four? Was that a ludicrous thought? It was probably a ludicrous thought. A demon's horn? Like an actual demon's horn? Or was that a metaphor or euphemism of some kind. Oh. Wait. The actual demon's horn suddenly sounded better than the metaphor. Less lewd, to be sure. He needed a script for this ritual, too? What kind of script? Nisreen knew of some plays; maybe she could help. Rearrange the what? The sin tax? Was that a Connlaothian law? Seemed so, with the Church being as prominent as it was. Why not tax sinners as well as punish them? A shrewd business plan, if nothing else, to keep the Church funded. Wait...what did a sin tax have to do with a magic ritual? Wouldn't that be contradictory here in Connlaoth? Oh wait. How silly of her. Maybe Aven just needed money to perform this ritual, and the tax was one way of getting it. Ansgar's Hand was associated with the Church. An odd reagent, by her lights, but she didn't know very much about magic anyway. Aven was the expert, after all. He would know the price of spells more than her. Still, how strange, that the various forces of the arcane would even value money. Maybe it was just the gold the money was made of, and the shape and size of the coins just happened to be convenient or perhaps correct in some fashion.
   Wow. She was learning so much by simply listening in.
   Nisreen waited in the chair quietly for Aven to finish, jotting down a sparse note here and there on the paper she had on the desk. She could conclude her introduction once he prepared everything he was looking for. Best not to interrupt his train of thought. Magic seemed complicated.

Wycliff

Aven was rearranging the ritual's components in his head. The demon's horn was an important catalyst for the ritual to succeed, but not entirely necessary, if he changed the runic language on the magic circle to the runic character for the sun instead of light, rendering the catalyst obsolete. With that, the magic would only need to fulfill one function rather than two, where previously it would protect from the sun and magically created light to an extent. He assumed doing so would also rearrange the matrix if he didn't expand what would usually be a two layer magical sequence to three, adding in a buffer to keep the matrix static, as well as lengthening the life of the ritual.

After a few minutes of deep thought, Aven set the papers down with a satisfied expression, unaware of the wild and outlandish misconceptions his murmuring had spawned. Seeming to snap back into reality, he claps his hand together, clasping them. "So, the good news is, I have the means to cast a Cloak of Darkness on you, and I can make it last a good six months. The bad news is, it will only be partially effective without the horn of a lesser demon to use as a catalyst: it can only offer protection from the sun's rays, not magical light. Are you interested?" He smiled sincerely, a face that couldn't possibly tell a lie. "I've been looking to gather reliable data on the ritual's effectiveness, so you'd be helping me out quite a bit by testing it."

Oddly, he seemed to have completely forgotten about his previous question regarding a cure. It was a small problem of his, that when he became intrigued by a topic, such as a potential test for the cloak of darkness ritual, previous topics would fade into the background.


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Valtxr

   A clap of Aven's hands, and nothing more said about a cure. What was the expression people liked to say. Right. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.
   "Oh. Absolutely. It certainly is the least I could do for you, after you've been so kind. I'm curious to see some real magic in action; I've read about it more than I've actually seen it. Ah, well, you know, if it doesn't cost you too much to perform the ritual. I understand money can be tight at times. And I wouldn't want you to sacrifice too much on my part."
   Come to think of it, if money were an issue, Aven would probably have mentioned it. He seemed to be enough of the straightforward type to simply say so. Oh, well, how silly for her to bring it up then. Maybe just...maybe just move past the inconsequential point about money.
   "Okay. Right. Is there anything I need to do for this ritual? I feel like I should at least stand. I'll go ahead and stand." She stood. "Hmm. Is there any particular way I should stand? Um. I'll confess that this is a wholly new experience for me. Exciting, but, well, I'm unfamiliar with how to proceed. I'll trust your expertise."

Wycliff

Aven chuckles. Money? Well, if he were to try and procure a demon's horn through underground connections of some sort, he supposed money could play a part in it. With the method he was using, though, the silver dust he had handy in his study would be sufficient, and using transmutation, he could easily make more. "Money doesn't have any bearing on the ritual, though if it did, it would be no object. I am not poor, to be frank, and knowledge is much more valuable to me than any metal." He pauses, then flicks a finger, the shadow tendril pulling her chair away and setting it in the corner of the room. Luckily, she'd been sitting near the most open part of the room, plenty of space to draw the array. He hoisted the desk aside, grabbing a small dish of silvery powder.

"You are correct, standing will be the best option. Be sure to stay still, and for gods sakes: do not move your feet. If the circle is broken during the casting on the ritual, it will backlash, and even I don't know what will happen." He pours the silver dust meticulously around her in a decent circle, though a bit oblique. He then does the same in two wider circles, turning out move like ovals. However, with only a small gesture, the shapes are broughr into line by collapsing, circular walls of Dark Matter, forming perfect, evenly distributed circles. Then, the dark matter retracted, replaced in moments as Aven's shadow expands around Nisreen in an insanely precise magic array, hundreds of incredibly small runes lining the silver circles and various shapes and etchings within the lines that intersect countless times, all formed from darkness. Aven surveyed his work, nodding a few times while comparing the notes and the array before him. "This should do. Before I start the   Ritual, there aren't any other conditions I should know about, are there? Slight lycanthropy? Partial infusion of demon blood?" He sounded serious. It would make a person wonder what kind of crazy things the young man had seen before.


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