[IMG]http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u79/SharpshooterJack/markerJaelnec_zps53b7aa37.png[/IMG]
[h3]The Duchy of Zerul, by a road in southwest[/h3]
Listening to Aemoten and Olan talking about Angora, Usha and finally Mother Tigress, Jaelnec felt the last remnants of the rage that had been awakened in him drain away and be replaced by a sudden sense of fatigue and lethargy, making him want to heave a sigh, close his eyes and just hope that whatever happened next was not going to be as uncomfortable as he suspected it would be. Aemoten had said that he wanted to wait before dealing with Mother Tigress, though, and Jaelnec had offered that they could have done it earlier... it was not like it was his fault.
[I]Are you one?[/I] he directed his thoughts at his disembodied supposed ally while at the same time trying to listen to what the others were talking about.
“[I]Am I a what?[/I]” the female voice replied quickly, sounding genuinely clueless.
[I]A lich.[/I]
“[I]A lich? Oh, I see; I did think it felt like you’d noticed me being in your sword. But I honestly don’t know... my first true wielder and maker of the sword, Telagon Flamecleaver, never managed to figure out just what I am, and his son never cared to investigate.[/I]”
Jaelnec frowned. He knew that Telagon was the name of Freagon’s father, but the title of Flamecleaver was news to him. Besides... [I]I had noticed, but the others are discussing it right now.[/I]
“[I]Someone else noticed?[/I]” Again she both felt and sounded genuine, as though she really was surprised at this. “[I]It was probably Olan, I think... so they want you to get rid of me?[/I]”
The Nightwalker ignored her question. [I]You can’t hear them? They’re right next to us.[/I]
“[I]Do you see any ears or eyes on your sword? I have no idea what’s going on unless you tell me about it or I feel it. For better or for worse I am stuck in this sword, unable to leave or interact with the world outside it unless it’s through a wielder that lets me flow through it. You’re a very emotionally insecure person, do you know that? Every time you’ve gotten upset ever since you got me, you’ve instinctively reached out to me for comfort, inviting me in.[/I]”

Meanwhile, Olan was trying to answer Aemoten’s questions, it seemed. “I guess? I mean there are similarities, at least, but I can’t say for sure whether she’s exactly the same as a lich... I’m not that good.” He shrugged. “And it’s not like something is missing from her soul, not like that; to be honest I’m not even sure that I’d be able to tell if her soul had been split. It’s more like, eh... normally a soul kind of looks like its body, right? Because it identifies itself with how it looks physically. But this one, it’s like it isn’t sure what it is. Does that make sense? It has a vague idea of it, but it doesn’t have a fully fledged identity.”
“The being in Angora...” he shook his head. “No, not malevolent. It doesn’t really feel like anything out of the ordinary, really, just... a blank canvas projecting raw emotion. If it wasn’t latched onto Angora I doubt I’d be able to see it at all.”
“I could ask her, yes...” He turned and addressed Angora in true words. “Do you remember how this happened?”

When Aemoten made to leave and for Jaelnec to follow, the squire complied without question.
[I]I hope you can speak well for yourself, Mother Tigress,[/I] he thought at her as they went, [I]or chances are that you’re ending up at the bottom of a lake somewhere.[/I]
“[I]I won’t be able to tell the difference as long as I don’t have a wielder,[/I]” she remarked, and Jaelnec could have sworn that he felt her shrug inside of him. “[I]And ‘Mother Tigress’ was just the easiest name to use, since the others already knew me as that. Please, go back to calling me Roct; the sword is named after me, after all.[/I]”