Visiting old acquaintances and new relations

[quaggan]

 That sounded quite convenient. Such surfaces were more common than one might think - there was water and other fluids, eyes of most species... It was quite crafty of the Fae to choose something like that to act as their gate, he had to admit. As a wielder of light, he knew quite a lot about reflections. He remembered several scholars that tried to get his cooperation on a project of theirs. They were trying to test if it was the interaction with light that allowed mirrors to become gateways to the realm of the Fae. It was only polite to help them out, although he never learned if they succeeded. They just stopped contacting him.

They reached the exit of the building. "The dorms are over there - well, most of it" he began to explain. "Your, uh, friend, will probably be there - unless he's attending a class."

[Marjorie]

"Thank you for your assistance,  Carvaine" Devyn - Neese said, giving a rather grand looking bow, which was obviously unnecessary, "consider me in your debt." Whatever that meant, Neese left to the professor to try and divine, as he swept himself back up to his full height with a smirk and headed off toward the dorms.

--

Inside the dorms, Neese slipped along the walls like a lanky shadow, avoiding students that might be over eager or over enthusiastic about finding a real fae among their thinned out mixed blood. That is, until he came upon a door that just seemed to feel right. He knocked - how quaint. " Valerain Torverath," he called threw the door, opening it without waiting for permission to do so, "are you in?"

[quaggan]

 It looked like the awareness spell prepared by Master Hallain has been working well. Val could sense the curse laid upon him, like a dark cloud churning around his self. Its suffocating, constant presence was disconcerting - he reminded himself that the only thing that changed was his way he viewed it. His eyes were merely opened to what has always been there.

He probably should start making a report for Master Hallain, but he could see the curse curling around the inkwell on the desk - if he tried writing, he would probably end up knocking it over and spilling all over the paper. He would just have to remember to describe it later to her - especially the sudden change half an hour ago. He couldn't quite define what was going on, even after learning more specialized vocabulary he still lacked words - but it felt as if his curse was given a new life. It was electrified, spreading further than ever before, almost breathing the darkness greedily.

It was almost reaching towards something, curling in different directions. Val had enough common sense not to succumb to curiosity - it couldn't be good, not with his curse involved. Still, he was glad to at least be able to see what was happening. Perhaps he could use it as some sort of a compass to try and at least avoid curse-caused accidents?

He tried to occupy himself by trying to put his impression into words, but soon the intensity grew to the point that he could no longer overlook it. It was like being surrounded by thick, roiling miasma, something dark and primal, but almost alive. And it was yearning towards the outside, with renewed force. Val curled up under the desk, fighting waves of fear and nausea. He could only hope that it was a temporary fluctuation and that it would pass soon.

He heard footsteps, then someone knocking He wanted to shout a warning - nothing good could happen today, and this person would be putting themself in danger if they came into the range. But the bile choked his words down and he could do nothing but watch as the door swung open, making way for-

That was a strange sight even for Wyrdwood. Despite having spent months here, he found that he still had no idea who this mysterious visitor could be. But it seemed like his curse knew; it practically radiated fawning, reaching for the stranger - not even to corrupt and twist as was its wont, but the way a loyal dog may rub against the legs of his returning master. It knew him, and it submitted to him.

[Marjorie]

And Neese knew the feeling of his own magic. It's energy reaching out to him in tendrils, he couldn't see, but he could feel it... and he caressed the unseen currents with his fingers, twig and leaf like appendages rustling as he did so.

"Ahh... at last," Neese said, "Valerain Torverath." He grinned, something both gleeful and dangerous. He tilted his head then, curious, and moved closer to the figure huddled under the desk. "They've devised a way to... see it, for you, yes?" He chuckled softly. "I wonder how they think that might help you." They yes certainly, because this one couldn't have done it himself. He didn't have the gift.

"To you," he said, moving closer still, and observing the boy's fear with open curiosity, "I am Lord Arlan, of the Fae Court, the Oath Maker, and you have been bound into one of my contracts." He waved his hand threw the dark swirls, even though Neese couldn't see them, he could feel the currents of his own magic, their energy was a small part of him after all. "You may also call me Neese, as I am here to reveal to you to conditions of the contract into which you have been bound, and offer you a choice." That was rather cryptic and un-revealing, however; Arlan wasn't bothered by it, and frankly, neither was Neese. He never lied, but that didn't mean he wasn't, quite often, deceptive.

[quaggan]

 It was strange, unlike anything he's experienced before. The man before him could see the curse, but didn't seem to be concerned at all about it. And rightfully so - the strange being glowed with magical power, enough to protect him even if it did somehow turn on him. Val's words of warning died on his lips - they were clearly unnecessary and perhaps even insulting.

His ears weren't at their best today, and yet he could hear every word the man spoke with perfect clarity, as if the curse withdrew its influence in respect to his voice. The eerie man - a Fae Lord, by his own admission - was clearly aware of what was going on and even addressed the spell upon him. No wonder - Wyrdwood was such a trove of knowledge, and he's heard that magic was as natural to the Fair Folk as breathing air, they could have as well invented it - according to the Serenian creation myths, they've had.

He crawled from under the desk - the curse's effects seemed to have abated, as if withdrawing to make room for their master's presence. Wyrdwood taught its students not to take anything on its word and always test a hypothesis before accepting it, but he could not deny the truth of what was revealed to him. It would be like denying the ground its pull or denying the sun its light. Even without the spell, he felt like he would have been able to acknowledge it somehow.

"How should I address you, then? Lord Arlan? Lord Neese?" His head was almost exploding, so he forced himself to focus on something remotely familiar. He's had etiquette drilled into his head since he was old enough to apply the rules. His knowledge of the Fae was by no means extensive, but from what little he's heard, they were not the kind to suffer rudeness lightly.

[Marjorie]

Oh, Arlan liked that. He was all about rules and promises, trades, and binding oaths. He liked etiquette much more than Neese or Devyn or Conchobar or Kirwin., and while he wasn't particularly one to stand o ceremony, he was very much one to stand on the premises of others knowing he was their better. "Lord Arlan," he said, because it felt the most fitting, "I am here to discus the terms of a contract with you." He waved a hand almost dismissively at the chair. "I'm not here to harm you," at least not now or today, whatever the outcome of their discussion was.

"I am sure by now, you have discovered, to some extent, the effects of the spell I've placed on you're line. You are not the first and not likely to be the last of the Torverath's to fall under the conditions of my contract.

"Ill luck and misfortune," he continued, "shall fall upon the chosen of each generation of the royal blood line of Torverath from the moment of their birth until the moment of their death. In addition, the condition of being outcast, disliked, and unwanted shall fall upon the person named from each generation. In return for this great sacrifice, a gift shall be bestowed, because a thing for a thing is always the proper way of things, and a balance will be struck. Peace, prosperity, safety, and security will be given to the people of Astanill. So long as the contract remains in place, and the line of House of Torverath remains unbroken, they will retain their rule and their people shall flourish."

Neese - Arlan paused a moment to let the young prince soak that in.

[quaggan]

 While he felt more confident knowing how to properly address the Fae, etiquette couldn't fully cover up the disquiet Lord Arlan's words caused. Val never remembered making any deals at all. Has the Fae approached him before, in disguise of a mortal? The young prince couldn't see through illusions or glamour, it was quite possible that he could have said some careless words in the wrong company and gotten himself embroiled in a bargain he's never even known he's struck.

Was it the truth behind his curse? It must have been connected to it, he's seen it respond to Lord Arlan. Was it a punishment for failing to hold up his end of the bargain? A profound feeling of gratitude washed over him. The Serenians warned him of how fickle and dangerous the Fae could be, unable to even conceive of mortal morality, but at least this one seemed to have enough to inform him of the truth.

This feeling didn't last long - it was soon washed away by dawning horror. His curse wasn't just his own problem, it was part of a greater whole that threatened his entire family. Unbidden, the hazy memories surfaced in his mind, stories of famously unfortunate ancestors. The sickly Lord Veleanor Torverath, who caught almost every disease known to the royal medics within his short lifetime. General Valharantha Torverath, who's gotten more of her own men killed than the enemy, her life ended by court martial. Were they previous victims of this arrangement?

He felt sick and for once he was certain it was not caused by his curse - at least not in the usual way. Was it some kind of a nightmare? It felt far too real, upturning his world and leaving him with no idea for what he should do next. It felt too big to wrap his head around, something that he would have to think over for a very long time.

But it didn't feel like he'd have any. The Fair Folk were never described as being particularly patient with mortals, and Val doubted that a lord of such power would waste time waiting on him. The scholars would want to know as much as possible, he should learn more about this... contract. "Who was it that struck this bargain with you?" he asked, his voice strangely wavering and uneven.

[Marjorie]

Neese smiled, something playful. "You do have a knowledge of your own heraldry and history, at least, I assume. Your should be able to name him yourself. Think back, young Prince," he  said, "to the time when your people struggled most - and the boon that followed... Do you remember the name of the king that then reigned?"

Neese - Arlan shrugged. "The spell chooses its own victim from your line every generation," he continued with his previous explication, "and when I have the time I come and find them, and offer them a choice.

"This choice: You May be free of this spell, but if you choose to be, then the protection I afford your kingdom will be dissolved as well."

[quaggan]

 A name popped into his head immediately. King Vanhelin of the Screaming Seas, who quelled the clouds and the oceans around the Astanill isle, making it a place people could actually live in. Historians and bards alike theorized whether it was his magical power that subdued the storms, or whether he sought the root of the problem and addressed its source. Was it simpler than they suspected; had he just bargained away a life of each the following generations?

He clenched his fists at the back of his chair, his entire body tense as he struggled to remain composed. What should he do? If he asked the Fae to break the pact, he would be condemning his kingdom, the very land he had to protect. It was the duty of the royal family to make sacrifices for the sake of their people; that was all Vanhelin of the Screaming Seas has ever done. If he succumbed to his weakness, all of Astanill would suffer. What was one person's life compared to the welfare of his entire kingdom?

He couldn't allow himself to succumb to despair now. The Fae lord didn't look like the type to look kindly upon such unseemly displays. His mind latched onto some of his words, turning to curiosity as a defence mechanism. "You said that one chosen person only will be the target of said misfortune. Does it mean my curse- I mean, my part of the bargain - won't harm others, Lord Arlan?"

[Marjorie]

"Ahh... so you have guessed then?" Arlan said, recognizing recognition on the young price's face. "You people didn't really think Vanhelin really had the power to quiet the wind and sea, did you?" He chuckled.

Neese- Arlan nodded, There was a bit there though. "You might," but as a side effect of the spell, as it caused him some ill fortune, "but the spell will never target anyone but you, so long as you are the subject of it. It also only targets one person at a time, so another will not be chosen until after you die."

[quaggan]

 No wonder everyone looked at him with fear and disgust! Val has always believed that it was his curse that poisoned the others against him - and it was true, Lord Arlan confirmed it - but they actually had good reason to. He was more than a magnet of misfortune, he was also its harbinger and tool.

He couldn't keep with this line of thought. He reminded himself to make the best of this experience and try to learn as much as he could from the Fae. "Do you always offer every... participant of the bargain this choice?" he asked. It was quite fair of Lord Arlan to go out of his way to inform those unwillingly bound in his pact with Vanhelin, but it wasn't the only side of this story. The King of the Screaming Seas could just ask for the power to solve the immediate crisis, but he chose instead to ensure the prosperity of Astanill. Was the Fae's offer a part of the bargain? If it wasn't, then Lord Arlan must have been acting on his own, possibly even outside the boundaries of the pact. Was it possible that he could not break it on its own, that it had to come from the mortal?

While this way of thinking was easier for him, it would be dishonest to just fixate on it for his own benefit, and ignore other possibilities. If it was all a part of the bargain, then Vanhelin must have trusted his descendants that would be afflicted with paying the price to bear it. How could Val possibly disappoint him?

It was too great for him to wrestle with. He could no longer grasp for any questions to stave off the overwhelming despair. And he probably made the Fae wait far too long. "Must I... make my decision now?"

[Marjorie]

"Vanhelin was a man of great morals, and a willingness to self sacrifice," Arlan said. He had rather liked the man who he helped to make King. "And I like rules, and choices... You and your line are bound to he rules, and the rules are unbreakable, but part of the contract is you right to choose. Will you choose your own well-being or that of your people who you are meant to serve and protect, as any ruler is? Your own character and that of the other members of your line was a key factor in the protection I afford your people, young prince.

"I required of Vanhelin a sacrifice greater than for him to sacrifice of himself... Of him I required the sacrifice of one of his children, the first chosen by the spell was one of them." He knew which one, of course, but he Valerain to guess at who. "It also meant that, when I later came back to that child to offer them this same choice I offered you, that he had to trust in them to put their people before themselves."

Arlan was not here to keep secrets, he was here to shed light, to offer a choice, in accordance with the conditions of the contract he himself stipulated. "Vanhelin asked me for help, I agreed, but nothing in this world is free. He understood that."

As for the last question, Neese- Arlan shook his head in the negative. "At any time you may break the spell by simply stating that you wish to absolve your contract with me. You have to mean it though, for it to work. All parts of the contract will be dissolved immediately."

[quaggan]

 Was it a note of fondness that he heard in Fae's voice? Valerain was still educated as a prince until his curse was discovered and deemed too dangerous. He wouldn't say that his ability to read people was anything to boast about, or even that it could still serve him in a court setting. But it still seemed like Lord Arlan held the King of the Screaming Seas in high regard. Even when he earlier laughed at the possibility of him possessing such power alone, there was no note of scorn for the inferior mortal.

It was no wonder - Vanhelin Torverath was a nearly mythical figure to the people of Astanill. He was revered not only for his quelling of the storm, but also for the grandeur of his reign. He was the paragon all the following monarchs wished to emulate. If the island were to adopt a religious system of revering ancestral figures, he would be surely placed at the head of the pantheon.

Val wondered if what garnered such esteem in the eyes of Lord Arlan. Was the quality of this man such that it transcended the distinctions of understanding, fascinating mortals and Fae alike? Or was it something else that warranted such respect? The Fair Folk were by all accounts disposed to bargains - was it Vanhelin's willingness to barter away what others would balk at, the merit that they so admired? Val couldn't think of a society that would extol a man's inclination to trade the lives and happiness of his children, but such compunctions held no meaning to the Fae.

From what he's heard, the visit Lord Arlan was making was not an exception to the bargain, but rather a part of it. Valerain was but the most recently forged link in the chain of many. It begun with Vanhelin, then his child... Val felt like he should know the name of the first recipient of this curse, to honour the duty they've both been called to. Their name should have been remembered, but all that remained was a rumour. There were always some servants in the castle that liked whispering stories of the lost scions to Torverath bloodline, and the third child of the Founder himself was a particularly mysterious subject. A sibling to Queen Valharantha Torverath who inherited Vanhelin's throne, and Archmage Vennar Torverath who inherited his gift with magic. One that would inherit the burden of Astanill's prosperity.

What was the King of Screaming Seas thinking? Was he given the choice of whom to sacrifice to the curse? Was he forced to come to a decision alone, or had he discussed it with his children who would share his burden in the future? There was so much Val didn't know; his forebears chose to keep their fate a secret rather than openly speak of the bargain that was made. He knew that he was yet young and lacked true wisdom; he would accept their resolution until he honed his resolve to act.

But for now, he had to give his answer - but not to the duty he was given, not yet. He straightened up and gave a bow, head lowered and arms crossed over his chest. It was an old Astanill expression of not just respect, but gratitude. Perhaps Lord Arlan, having dealt with Torverath kings before, would be able to recognize it. "I must thank you for all that you've done, safeguarding my people's prosperity and welfare for the centuries past. Only a select few may know of your efforts, but it is not something we would ever forget. Alas, I fear at present I am ill suited to entertain a guest of such measure. I dare not presume that you would suffer mortals lightly, but if circumstances permit, I would gladly see you again and speak further."

[Marjorie]

Arlan smiled, pleased by the young Prince's response. There was wisdom there, in waiting before making a decision one way or the other. It was Valerain's tone of respect and appropriate awe and fear that really appealed to him. 

"Of course," Neese snapped his fingers, and out of thin air appeared a hand mirror. He held it out to Valerain. "Just speak my name while you look into the mirror," he said, "and I will hear you. If it suits me, I will answer." Then, once the young Prince had the mirror in hand, Arlan took a step toward and then into it, and then threw it, and then he was gone.