[u]Khan[/u]

 [i]"I'll let you keep trying. I'll let you all keep your Demonmancy, see if you can reach my expectations. Maybe you might even defeat me. Come on, it'll be fun! At least I'm giving you a chance. Because I'm a merciful god."[/i]

That final phrase, unsettling and mischievous, nailed deeply into Khan’s skull like an arrow to the brain. Harsh and concerning, it was enough to distract him from keeping track of the time which passed onward regardless. Unaware how little precious time he had left, Khan let the minutes slip from his mind like water from fingers as he continued to recall what he could about the vial itself. Both discovered facts and speculation swirled within his focus, a dark current with not a single comfort towards progress had left him rather weary. The only certainty he was sure of was that it was likely impossible for him to shatter and destroy the contents. Not that he hadn’t tried. Anything, from shattering it against the wall to trying to turn it into cinders within the Inferno had resulted in nothing more than wasted energy. Energy he didn’t have the ability to waste anymore, Khan realized when he came close to his limitations over and over.

His odd eyes focused upon the vial in such intensity that Khan hadn’t notice his fingers were trembling. Nor did he realize the effect it would have on the hidden vines. Slowly, his grip tightened. By now, any normal glass would’ve cracked and shattered within his grasp from the increased stress. Instead it seemed to hold its shape firmly to mock him. Inside the office walls the vine stilled altogether, waiting and absorbing the Headmaster’s mood with the sense of a hungry predator. Their stems halted their activity to seek what remained of Lucilia’s grapevine and an intense quiet fell into the room. Then they sudden constricted inwards. Vines pulled in, disturbing granite and mortar, as they tried to edge toward Khan’s unmoving form. 

It was only when the first stem had coiled about Khan’s leg did his spell break.

The vine had uprooted a floor stone and drilled through another, its thin vine stretched out like a small, green rope to band about the Eysire’s leg. Its touch sent a roar of flaming pain into Khan’s nerves. In reaction, he dropped the vial flat upon the desk top and his arm shoved his chair back with a squeal. Meanwhile his free hand jerked down to rip his bad leg free. His mind shot to Rathel. 

‘Rathel, your vines.’

Without a comment or word, Khan felt Rathel’s presence begin to command the plants. With a little resistant and sourness at being denied a meal, the vine started to retreat. It didn’t stop the sting of its grip however. It lingered, a dark warning, for the Headmaster and Rathel to ponder on later. It reminded them both of the grim risk with using this fully untested plant type. The vines were almost as blood thirsty as its demonic relations, a trait Rathel hadn’t been able to weed out completely without killing its effectiveness. A fact that the demon was very worried would arise and manifest in the vine’s behavior, namely when he didn’t micromanage the trait, and was surprised when Khan insisted he still use the offshoot. Khan felt his adrenaline and surprise, mixed with the potent survivor instincts, chase the trembles away for now. It was now that Rathel chose to speak. 

‘I was worried this might occur. I think it would be best to use another method, namely if I can’t weed out the blood thirst and kill its aggression. It could end up killing you or worse, one of the teachers or students.’

‘No, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’

‘Khan, I really mus-‘ Rathel tried to argue his point, his slight worry over what might’ve happened drove his words, only to be cut off. 

‘Rathel, please, I’m too tired to explain why it’s important you do.’ Khan sensed a pause. A simple and promising one when the topic shifted gears. 

‘Very well. ‘ Rathel continued, amused slightly. ‘However, you realize Lucilia gave you expressive orders to take your medicine? Not let it just evaporate away. She won’t like you trying to skip it very much, I hope for your sake she doesn’t decide to call in Uicle for help.’

Khan noticed Rathel’s tone held a tone of worry and concern, a gesture the Headmaster found endearing despite the conflict in the last two months. His impulse to shove Rathel and the rest into the Inferno was after all a hasty one. One made out of anger, weakness, and frustration at becoming a tool among the chaotic events. Something he never wanted to occur again. The green vial again capture his attention as his hand reached for it, sliding it into the draw it belonged in before he shut it close. After the dull thump, he replied. 

‘I know, but I think I can manage it without it. Truly Rathel. There has to be another way then taking something for it.’

‘Is the reason you don’t take it have anything to do with when Riddic was sick?’

Khan was silent. Rathel could sense he had hit something and it was a harder blow then the demon intended, that much he could guess well enough from the headmaster. Gently Rathel had been about to talk again when Lucilia’s voice rang out. Khan stiffened, his head twisted toward the doorway and finally found his words.
 
‘Rathel, can you delay her?’ 

‘I prefer not to…’ Rathel said, his mental voice seemed to chuckle. He released the vines before Khan could comment and even went as far as open the door, inviting the vampire in. One of the vines wormed its way from the mortar, its end bloomed into a blood red flower of deadly beauty and purpose. Within it a voice came out by manipulating the carbon and oxygen into key qualities to mimic Rathel in sound. 

“He’s all yours Lucilia.” With the end of the message, the flower gave a soft hiss, then wilted and died abruptly. 

Khan looked at his drink, briefly, as he reached to straighten his work space. His hands reached for papers and sorted them into piles to make it all appear better than it really was. The last of them were shuffled into order before his leaned down for his cane, casted onto the floor in his sudden movement, to aid him upright. Against the sensation of weakness which washed over him, Khan managed to stand so he could retrieve a chair for Lucilia. His action had served a dual purpose really. One was to be polite and the other to hide the fact he hadn’t touched his medicine yet, his mind wrapped up too far into examining Kudd’s unwanted gift he had put it off. Now it was too late to correct it. He forced himself to be steady against his body’s desire to crumble as he used a question to divert Lucilia’s notice. 

“How is the Archmage’s condition?” 
[center][b]Wrath of the Skies[/b][/center]

 [u]Rurik[/u] 

It was a normal day as Rurik made his way towards his schedule trade destination, Twilight College. The sun had finally risen over the half-way point of the horizon and the cart casted its large shadows across the grey terrain, the scenery sank deeply in the dark colors of the early morning. The wheels were a familiar melody the dwarf enjoyed of jar clinks, box rattles, and rusty axel sounds while his mule provided the steady rhythm during this long trip. For hours now, Rurik managed to keep his eyes fixed ahead, mostly out of eagerness to reach the school. He had quite a few healthy prospects that he was sure both students and teachers would enjoy. His little companion, a wee ferret, was sound asleep in the cart’s back had joined in with soft whimpers. The critter’s lithe body was curled in a nest of cast away rags among the normal various items. The little snores had Rurik stifle a small smirk. 

It wasn’t until he noticed a most gruesome sight along his route: a spiked forest of demon heads. Hundreds of them were staked out and drying in the sun, their eyes closed while he clip-clopped by their still forms. Rurik felt the unease stir within his spine, the bone sudden gone ridged until it seemed it was made from stone. His fingers tightened about the reins then flipped them to urge the mule faster along. The trip seemed to work as the animal, its nostrils filled with the scent of rot and sulfur, seemed to quicken his pace. In moments they cleared the rancid scene where Rurik pushed it towards the back of his mind. Sometimes it was best never to remember certain things at all, the merchant thought grimly. In at least an hour they would be safely locked within the College’s large walls and safe, a thought that made trampling past the prior scene worth it. 

Distracted by the thoughts of the future, Rurik didn’t noticed the large circling shadow until it was too late. 

[center]*****[/center]

The College gate opened wide as usually for Rurik’s arrival, but something was clearly different this bright, sunny morning. Instead of the usual rattling cart and mule, it was the dwarf alone who limped inside. Still his usual 3’10” height, his small stout frame bore the familiar travel worn cloak and clothing yet they were torn in several places. Blood soaked the front of his tunic from a large gash that had sliced into the skin underneath, a few inches deep, as he fell to his knee where he held an arm to starch the bleeding. Two more wounds, in similar fashion graced his forehead and just below his right knee where he had done a hasty bind in order to walk. He axe was gone, vanished from his person which cried of something foul. Rurik was dwarf so only something vicious would’ve been able to pry his favorite weapon from his hand, unless he was a corpse. 

He struggled to keep his face from becoming planted into the cobble stone ground, his chest heaving heavily, while his face paled with worry and shock. Several students and a few Golems had immediately crowded around him causing Rurik’s head to jerk up. His eyes were covered by crusted blood dried brown but they seemed to glimmer with a faint hope. He licked his chap lips before he spoke. “*Help! Roc lat at me on th’road. Big auld beastie. Tis cam out of nowhaur n’ took off wit mah wagon! ”

*Help! Roc attacked me on the road. Big old beast. It came out of nowhere and took off with my wagon! (For those who want to double check his/her translation.)