[center][h3][u][color=#cbc66d] Roslyn Wicke [/color][/u][/h3][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vzhDyH3.png[/img][/center][center][color=#cbc66d]"At least the weather is cooperating. For once. Maybe we'll even find something."[/color][/center][h1][center]The Riddle of Lindenholdt Part 2 (cont)[/center][/h1][center][sub]Date and Time: Zales 31st Location: Zimmerman's and the River[/sub][/center] [h2]Bringing Caldores Cheer[/h2][hider=****] In the event, the pair nearly did. They split up, scurrying about and buying what they needed to. It was another twenty minutes to the outskirts of town, where the Zimmerman family had their ramshackle home. By the time that they arrived, the clouds had cleared and the snow was melting under the bright somnian sun. Both of the eldest two children were out front, having purposely taken chores out in the yard. Hanno, in particular, seemed surprised to see Roslyn, and a tethered person who he did not recognize. Constanze instinctively shrunk back at the sight of this stranger who seemed like nothing so much as a hired investigator. Roslyn had tugged her scarf loose a bit when the temperature climbed a bit. [i]Next time, less layers[/i] she thought. Upon spotting the oldest children, she flashed them a friendly smile as she pulled her bag to the front. Her eyes shot to the door with hopes that the mother didn't appear. She spoke with a softer tone as Marci translated. [color=#cbc66d]"Don't look so surprised. I did say I would bring some oranges and stockings, didn't I? We can't stay for very long, sadly." [/color] Hanno's eyes lit up, but his sister was more guarded. [color=#FFDAB9]"Wer ist sie?"[/color] The girl gestured at Marci. [color=598527]"Ich bin dein Übersetzer, Bengel!"[/color] the tethered retorted, and the child's eyes widened. [color=FFDAB9]"Okay, vielleicht sind Sie kein Spion,"[/color] she allowed, skipping forward. There was, as yet, no sign of Sarah Zimmerman, and Hanno came up to quickly poach the bag, just in case. He swallowed and opened it up, glancing down at the contents and allowing his sister to look inside as well. [color=#FF8C00]"Bist du Roslyns Freund?"[/color] He asked Marci, eyes trying to avoid glancing curiously at her wheelchair. She nodded and translated to give Roslyn context. [color=598527]"Sie hat mir von euch beiden erzählt."[/color] the tethered explained, gesturing Roslyn's way. [color=598527]"Wir möchten sicherstellen, dass Sie frohe Weihnachten haben."[/color] There was a pause and expressions of thanks given, and then Marceline continued. [color=598527]"Ich weiß, wie es ist, Eltern zu haben, die sich nicht so um einen kümmern, wie sie es sollten. Lass dich davon nicht davon abhalten, das Leben zu leben, das du verdienst."[/color] Strangely, she did not translate that last bit, as the kids looked at her with sad, evaluative, and ultimately supportive eyes. Constanze nodded. Though Roslyn couldn't understand the language, the scene gave her some clues. Her grip loosened as she let the boy take the bag. [color=#cbc66d]"Yep, she is. Ingrid would've come, but she's a bit busy. Some of those are from her as well."[/color] She didn't give any more details over where Ingrid went. It was better to err on the side of caution, especially with a possible third party involved. [color=#cbc66d]"I would've burrowed the fish, but I forgot. Besides, Marci's great company." [/color] Seeing the condition of these children's family reminded her of how lucky she was with hers. [color=#cbc66d]"There is something else I need to ask. Do either of you remember if your father carried anything like a special or unique item on him? " [/color] It was an odd question, but she hoped to use it to help find the men. The compass found items after all and it was worth a shot. Marci winked at the compliment. [color=598527]"Sie versucht, einen kostenlosen Kaffee zu bekommen. Ich weiß, wie sie arbeitet."[/color] She shot her friend a little smirk and translated.... creatively. The next part, however, she translated with dutiful precision, and the children, glancing nervously back towards the house, took a moment to think. While Constanze couldn't come up with anything, Hanno let out a snort. [color=#FF8C00]"Er hatte einen Ehering – es war ein Ersatz für das Original – und er war aus Haurenien aus der Mine."[/color] [color=598527]"Haureenium..."[/color] Marceline murmured. Constanze glanced at her brother. [color=#FFDAB9]"Er hat dort gearbeitet, bevor einer von uns geboren wurde."[/color] [color=#FF8C00]"Er ließ es von einem Yasenmagier verzaubern, sodass es immer nach Rosen duftete,"[/color] Hanno elaborated. [color=598527]"A yasoi mage,"[/color] Marci replied, quickly translating the rest, about the enchantment and the smell of roses. [color=#FF8C00]"Warum fragst du?"[/color] the boy added. [color=598527]"Why do you ask?"[/color] Marceline considered, but decided to let Roslyn take the lead in answering. It was just about then that two of the younger kids came bounding out, their voices urgent, and the Hendlishwoman didn't have to understand what they were saying to know what their entreaties meant. [color=#cbc66d]"Looks like I don't have much time to explain. Let's just say, I have a trick or two to find items. Just hope my idea works." [/color] Roslyn couldn't stop her smirk from growing at what she learned. This might just work and if it did. Her heart stuttered for a moment, filled with a mix of hope and dread at what she might find. Pushing it aside, she noted the other two siblings and began to step back.[color=#cbc66d]"I think it's time we get going. Merry Caldores and enjoy yourselves." [/color] She made a gesture for Marci to follow quickly. For a moment, Marceline merely sat there, the breeze stirring her hair. Rippled and dark, her eyes seemed to take on its qualities for a moment. She stared at the house for a moment, unflinching, but then there was a sudden draw - a big one - and she shimmered and disappeared. She was on the road, ahead of Roslyn, who quicky caught up. [/hider][h2]Grisly Discovery[/h2][hider=*****] The sun shone brightly, the snow turned to water, and the potential blizzard that had threatened in the morning seemed a distant concern. Whatever had bothered Marceline seemed to go with it. The compass, while not exactly locked onto something, [i]did[/i] seem to be tentatively indicating a direction, and it matched the girls' risen spirits. Marci rolled out ahead down the wide gravel path, a slight downhill and a small dose of kinetic magic seeing her along at a good clip. She twisted about and smiled back at her friend. [color=598527]"You know, I think we're actually going to find something,"[/color] she remarked, as the minutes and kilometers fell away and the farmland gave way - mostly - to forest. [color=598527]"It'd sure be nice for those kids to have their dad back,"[/color] she said quietly, letting out a relaxed sigh as she coasted along and glanced up at the sky. [color=598527]"Ugh, wouldn't it [i]also[/i] be nice if every Somnes day was like this?"[/color] She shook her head and let out a snort of laughter. [color=598527]"Did you bribe Dami or something, or was it Xiuyang? Ya know, there's something about that girl..."[/color] She trailed off with a smirk and winked over her shoulder. Roslyn tensed when she felt her arm itch in that familiar way. After the last time, she couldn't fathom why Marci would ever risk encountering one of those [i]things[/i] again. There was no time to dwell on it as she drew then darted out of sight, her image blurred into a streak with kinetic magic. Once they reconnected, she held out the compass. The needle twitched, spun and then finally hovered in a direction. [color=#cbc66d]" That's my hope. I didn't expect him to have anything special on him, let alone a magic item. Also the compass can be fickle at times." [/color] She commented as she kept one eye on the compass and another on Marci. [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah, I feel like Xiuyang is the most likely to charm the gods into a good mood by smiling at them. She's good to have around when it comes to handling things." [/color] Marci chuckled. [color=598527]"Has she picked it up from Ciro or [i]he[/i] from [i]her[/i]?"[/color] She wondered aloud, and they moved along for some time in that manner: keeping their senses peeled, making conversation, and enjoying what had turned into a surprisingly nice day, after all. Now, if only they might find the missing men, ragged but ultimately fine, it would truly be a gift from the Pentad. Marceline would have to learn Xiuyang's secrets after all. After some time spent in chit chat and easy silence, the tethered came to a stop to roll her neck and adjust her sitting position. [color=598527]"Oh yeah,"[/color] she inquired, peering over in the compass' direction, [color=598527]"Is it still saying due northeast along this road?"[/color] [color=#cbc66d]"Not sure, but I'm happy she found someone. They look cute together." [/color] Roslyn commented as she continued to monitor the compass. It continued to point in the same direction which made the trip easy, but seemed... odd. She took a deep breath to purge the concern in the back of her mind. She found the chit chat refreshing as she took in the sights. At mention of the compass, her eyes glanced down and she frowned. [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah, it is. I wish this thing had a way to show distance." [/color] [color=598527]"A project for Marz or Isabella, I guess,"[/color] Marceline chirped, pushing herself up with her arms and counting to ten under her breath. She had yet to experience a pressure sore and was not keen to ever get one. Roslyn, meanwhile, sat on a rock and extracted a pebble from one of her shoes. [color=598527]"Kay, that about does it,"[/color] Marci decided, sitting back down and unlocking her brakes. [color=598527]"Ready to go?"[/color] Roslyn nodded, stood, and stretched briefly. [color=#cbc66d]"Yup,"[/color] the Hendlishwoman replied, taking a couple of steps. [color=#cbc66d]"We've got ourselves a job to do."[/color] Marceline nodded and offered up a jaunty little salute. [color=598527]"Aye aye, captain!"[/color] she replied, setting hands to the wheels and turning. [color=598527]"Away we go."[/color] ... Roslyn playfully stuck her tongue out at Marci's comment, [color=#cbc66d]"At least the weather is cooperating. For once. Maybe we'll even find something." [/color] She trailed behind her friend with her eyes still fixed on the compass. [color=598527]"The power of positive thinking, Rose. I just know-"[/color] Marceline's sentence cut off after she glanced to the side. Her arms pulled her wheelchair to a stop and twisted to the left. Her dark eyes widened in horror. [color=598527]"Oh my gods."[/color] Roslyn's step quickened to catch up. That dread curled in her core and crawled along her spine making it shiver. [color=#cbc66d]"What? Marci, what is it?" [/color] Instead of answering, Marci's arm pulled out and pointed to the side of the road. Roslyn's eyes followed the direction of a vulture hunched over something. A corpse. Instantly, any hope left in her heart withered. Her feet moved as her hand shoved her compass into her pocket. She shooed the scavenger off the remains. The vulture's beady eyes shined in her direction before it fluttered off into the sky. Against her better judgement, she tried to sense for any signs of life. She braced for the worst. It took Marceline a good few more seconds to catch up. She more or less floated herself to the shore using telekinesis. Her hands trembled as she bent down over the body, chest resting on her knees. Straightening after a moment, she shook her head glumly. [color=598527]"It's no good, Rose. He's long gone."[/color] Marci swallowed and looked upstream, to where the current flowed. [color=598527]"This random late Somnes thaw must've caused the ice it was trapped in to melt and break up,"[/color] she concluded. [color=598527]"And then I guess it was washed downriver."[/color] She swallowed again and tried to avoid looking at the grisly body. On one of its hands was, indeed, a haureenium ring, though Marceline could not smell any roses. She glanced upstream again and furrowed her brow. [color=598527]"Or..."[/color] She shook her head and scrunched her dress up between her fingers. [color=598527]"I really thought we might get a happy ending,"[/color] she mewed, reaching up to press the back of her hand to her eyes. [color=#cbc66d]"No..." [/color] Roslyn's foot stomped in anger at the facts. She had hoped too hard and against her better judgement, fate spat back at her. A sense of defeat seeped into her voice. [color=#cbc66d]"I was just hoping against the odds. Should've known better, it's been five days." [/color] Ignoring the fact she seemed to have a disturbing talent of finding the dead, she pressed her hands in front of her and took a deep breath. Her mind hung onto a familiar numbness that rose in her chest. She let it wash over until her voice finally calmed down. [color=#cbc66d]"We need to tell Xiuyang and the others that we might've found one of the bodies. Next, we need to contact the Rezaindian for the burial and Edith for the authorities."[/color] She held her breath, though there wasn't much of an odor, while her stomach still curled. [color=#cbc66d]"I should've asked Mrs. Weber about her husband." [/color] Her eyes scanned along the bank as she hoped to spot evidence of something odd. Much as some animal part of Marceline - the part that says 'you've seen a dead body; this place is dangerous' - urged her not to, the young tethered closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, and stretched out her senses. Many people thought of Hundri and late Somnes as dead times, but she knew this for a falsehood. The forest hummed with energy of every sort. Hundreds of... kellerasseln (she did not know the name woodlouse) skittered through the carpet of dead leaves, their movements leaving little kinetically active trails as they went. Bacteria broke down leaves into soil, the pleasantly pungent aroma omnipresent. Somewhere off a few kilometers away, a small pack of wolves rested in the hollows they had dug where a pair of great trees had fallen. A woodpecker hammered away at a trunk. A badger pounced on a mouse. Frost melted. The wind shifted leaves and branches. The rusted iron rim of an abandoned wagon wheel gathered heat from the sun. Underlying it all was the slow, constant passage of time. Yet, closer to her, the chemical, thermal, and kinetic processes of decay were rapidly setting in on the body. Marceline fixed on those and swept up and down that great kinetically-active highway that was the river. Suddenly, she stiffened. [color=598527]"About half a kilometer downstream,"[/color] she announced quietly, opening her eyes and setting hands to wheels before realizing that there was no way she could get back up the steep and uneven embankment without calling upon the Gift. [color=598527]"There's a second body."[/color] She shook her head, starting to draw to float herself back up to the road, before pausing. [color=598527]"Wait. I guess I should tell them, first."[/color] Indicating that she might appreciate a push while she focused, the young tethered picked out - first - Xiuyang, by the mines. She stretched a bit further for Johann, Ingrid, and Marco, in rapid succession. Finally, there came Dory and Evander. [color=598527]"Scheißdreck,"[/color] she cursed, tensing up, [color=598527]"A few of them are [i]really[/i] in the thick of it."[/color] She glanced over her shoulder before quickly turning back to focus. [color=598527]"I'm warning them."[/color] [color=598527][/color] she sent Xiuyang as a pinch message. [color=598527][/color] [color=598527][/color] she sent to Ingrid and then Johann. It took a bit longer that way, but it was best to maintain trust with both. [color=598527][/color] Marco had encountered two men who Marceline's senses told her were not particularly strong users of the Gift, but then there was something strange: it was... not [i]sonic[/i], was it? It grabbed hold of the two men, however, and they [i]changed[/i]. They had just enough of the Gift that their manas started to exert control over their bodies. Marceline inhaled sharply and, out of a fight or flight instinct, her hands went to her wheels for a moment. [color=598527][/color] Desperately, she tried to trace its origin, but she was at a stretch as it was. She whirled about the moment that she was on flat ground. [color=598527]"Rose,"[/color] the younger girl gasped, [color=598527]"thank you."[/color] She swallowed. [color=598527]"It's command magic - I [i]think[/i]. I'm not that familiar with it, but I think."[/color] She took an anxious push forward and then back, not completely sure what to do with herself. [color=598527]"There, in the church -"[/color] She pointed off in a direction. [color=598527]"It [i]has[/i] to be command."[/color] At Marci's mention of another body, Roslyn bit her lip. [color=#cbc66d]"If I had to guess, that's likely Weber. I should've tried this sooner."[/color] Seeing the wheel girl pause, she heard the mention of the others in trouble. Of course they would find some. Not wanting to risk sounding snappy, Roslyn simply nodded in agreement. There was little she could do right now and that made her nervous. Her eyes squinted and scanned along the bank's edge as she picked at her wrist. Unbeknownst to her, the corrupted greed stone started to glow faintly. [color=78d15a][i]"I wonder how much gold that pretty lil' ring might fetch?"[/i][/color] She stiffened upon hearing the familiar voice. A short green fellow stepped into her sights. He beamed a wide toothy smile at her. Zast. With a wave of his hand, the air before him tore into a dark hole. He reached an arm in and pulled out a fat cigar. Twisting it in his grip, his eyes glistened with delight before he pressed it to his lips. He snapped his fingers causing his thumb to ignite the tip. He inhaled deeply to savor it. Unbothered by her glare, he puffed a few smoke rings while he leaned against a nearby tree. Mirth entered his voice as he noticed her scorn. [i][color=78d15a]"Don't act like it didn't cross your mind, Rosie girl. We both know it did and you shouldn't feel shame in that. No shame at all. It's not like the dead have much use for trinkets, right?" [/color] [/i] His point made her eyes drift toward the corpse's ring finger. That's when she realized Marceline was there. Roslyn's guilt brushed her mind causing her to avert her gaze. No, this was wrong. She wouldn't turn into a grave robber now. Underneath her breath, she mumbled at him. She knew from experience ignoring him only made it worse but on the other hand, she risked looking crazy. [color=#cbc66d]"Not now." [/color] Zast chuckled. [color=78d15a][i]"I disagree. There's no shame in making a bit of coin on the side,"[/i] [/color] His red eyes lingered on the corpse then shrugged. [color=78d15a][i]"We both know his wife will sell it off and be face deep in the ale mug before dark. Don't you think it would be smarter to keep that money out of her hands instead of giving it to her?"[/i] [/color] A long finger gently brushed a straight line through faint smoke rings. Another moment of silence passed before she ended the conversation. [color=#cbc66d]"Get lost, now."[/color] A deep, dry chuckle escaped Zast's throat and he shook his head in disappointment. [color=78d15a][i]"No can do, and you know it. You are stuck wit me."[/i][/color] He let the truth sit there for a moment, then carried on. [color=78d15a][i]"You're very lucky I'm a generous sort. I'll leave you with one piece of advice: when life gives you dice, you roll 'em. Don't let this opportunity slip by."[/i][/color] Finishing his cigar, he flicked it across the water. [color=78d15a][i]"Since you were so rude, I'll wait until you come crawling back and pleading for my help to solve this. See you later, Rosie girl."[/i][/color] With that, the green stone's subtle glow faded... for now.[/hider] [hr] [center][h3][u]The Wicke Estate[/u][/h3][/center] Mittria 25th, Orrendes[hider=*]Time: 2nd hour of Shune After the morning meal, Garith donned his travel clothes and strolled out to the stables. He rubbed his throbbing temple with his right hand while balancing himself with a cane. The chronic headache now impeded his work and forced him to seek aid from the local healer. It was bad enough that he struggled to walk properly. A soft sigh spilled out as he crossed the barn's threshold. The bay-colored mare in the first stall perked up her ears. She strode to the gate, her neck stretched out, and whinnied at him. Despite the pain, a smile broke out across the young man's face. He wasted no time in stepping up and delivering a soft pat on her muzzle. He spoke gently to her. "Morning, Efa. You ready for a treat?" The mare gave a nicker before she reached out to nip at his bangs. Garith leaned back with a laugh. "Impatient, greedy lil' aren't you? Give me a moment to get it." He retrieved an apple from his belt pouch and offered it to her. She buried her snout into his hand, promptly freeing it of the fruit's weight. Giving her nose one last pat, the man let her chew while he prepared her for the short trip. In her youth, the mare was spirited. She flinched and bit at any attempt to saddle her. Now she stood perfectly still as he finished tightening the belt. He gave her one last scratch. "That's a good girl. Maybe Roslyn should take some lessons from you about listening." The mare snorted at him. He rounded to her side and hoisted himself into the saddle. With a gentle prod of his heel, he used the reins to guide her out the door to the main road. Shortly after, he let Efa fall into a natural gait since he wasn't in a hurry. When the ache in his skull eased up, Garith drank in the rolling hills and trellis moving past. Each one filled with hops ripe for tomorrow's harvest. While beautiful, he doubted this tense peace would last long. For a dark moment, his mind conjured the image of soldiers hidden among them. His lips pursed at the thought of the hardships ahead. With a sharp breath, he ushered her along with a heel push into her belly. She snorted in protest before she picked up the pace. Further along, the wilds surrounded the cottages of the townsfolk tending the fields. From his peripheral vision, he spotted a few farmers sitting beneath a lone tree's shade. They smiled, casually drunk their last season's beer, and chattered away. Occasionally, one or two cast him a wary glance that followed him. The young baron brushed off the silent judgment, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. Roslyn was lucky. Being at the academy, she escaped some of the townfolk's hubris. A thatched-roof cottage came into view. The shutters stood wide open, letting in fresh air and sunlight. In the back, a small pig oinked and milled through the mud within a wooden fence. A few feet away stood a half-chopped wood pile and a modest start of a would-be garden. Mindful of the work, Garith gently pulled Efa to a nearby tree. Her flank twitched as she pawed up the earth. To soothe her nerves, he leaned in and rubbed her neck. He whispered a piece of reassurance into her ear. "Sorry, girl. I need to go in alone. Be a good, this won't take long." He leaned to the right to dismount. Pausing long enough to adjust his cloak, the man grabbed his cane and walked up to the entrance. A blanket covered the doorway as he reached out and gave the frame a firm tap. "Carver Leigh, are you home?" Sounds of feet ceased their movement from within. After a breath of silence, a feminine voice snapped back at him. "Who's askin'?" Garith, not used to the gruff address, cocked his head. His lips became a thin line. Before he opened his mouth, another older voice scolded the first. "Hollis, manners!" The young noble crossed his arms over his chest and answered the first. "Garith Wicke, the son of the baron you've pledged loyalty to." One of the voices cursed. Footsteps rushed for the cloth and pulled it aside, the man stepping outside. A young man was a few years older than Garith himself, with unkempt brown hair and green eyes. The healer's gaze dropped to his chin. A nervous smile broke out on his face. "Sorry, your Lordship. What is the reason for your..." He nervously gestured to his dwellings, "visit, if I may ask?" Too tired to address the earlier rudeness, Garith got to the point. "I'm in need of your healing skills. May we talk inside?" Carver stepped to one side while he raised the cloth with one hand. "Of course, my lord." Upon entering, a strong, earthy scent assaulted Garith's face. His nose wrinkled and eyes watered, but he kept his mask of indifference. Once he blinked his vision clear, he noticed the girl. No older than thirteen, she pouted in a corner and scowled at him. Upon spotting her, the older man addressed her quickly. "Hollis, will you go outside for me? I need you to chop some wood and fetch water from the well." The girl's lips pursed tighter, and her left leg crossed over her right. She turned her irritation upon her companion. "Why should I? I thought we were going out after cleaning?" Carver sighed, his tone fell into a pleading one. "This isn't the time to fight me. Please, Hollis." A spell of silence settled between them before the girl huffed. "Fine," she rose onto her feet and then stomped outside. Garith waited until she disappeared before he commented to the healer. "I suppose that's your sister? I didn't expect her to be so young. She's..." He failed to find the right word and instead went with something polite. "pleasant." Carver chuckled. "Yes, my lord. She's decent company when she's in a good mood. Sadly, your lordship's arrival interrupted a few of the midday plans we had. If the Gods are kind, she'll be in a better mood later." The man bent down to move a bundle of dried stalks out of his way. He twisted to the side while he pointed to another stool. "Now, if you will take a seat, we'll get started." Garith nodded and did as he was told. He folded his cloak into his lap, careful not to crease it too much. The healer moved around his work table. A chaotic display of bottles, jars, herb bundles, and more cluttered the surface. Carver's attention jumped from one jar to another before finally settling on one. Lifting it to his face, he narrowed his gaze to the bottom. After a frown, he uncovered it and fished out several withered-up blobs. He tossed them into the fire pit. "What are those?" Garith asked, not recognizing them. The healer shrugged and set the jar back on the table. "A few of the leeches died. Best to get rid of them before Ahn-Eshiran decides to take the rest." He drew closer to the seated baron. "So, what pains are you feelin' and where at?" "My head." Garith gingerly touched the front of his head. Already, the pain had sparked again and began to blur his vision. "The pains have become unbearable lately." Carver pulled in close and parted the hair roots. Nothing. His eyes trailed from one side to another, trying to narrow down any outside cause. Along the back of the Lord's head, a dark spot stood out on the white scalp. Carver frowned at the oddity. Slowly, his eyes followed the odd 'tail' trailing down into the ruffled collar. He suspected it went even further. The man pulled back. "Pardon my request, but can you take off your shirt. There's a mark running down your neck and I fear it goes further." Garith condoned the absent title in the address. He calmly divested his shirt, laying it to rest alongside his cloak on his thigh. As suspected, the line did go further. The thickest part sprouted smaller ones that veined outward in various sizes. Carver stared for several moments before he searched his table for something. "I've never seen anything like this. How long have you had it?" "It started off as a mark on my elbow at birth. The 'tail' started to appear after my fifteenth birthday. The other symptoms followed shortly after. Right now, I just want the head pains gone." "My lord, I think you have some sort of rot inside of you. If I didn't know better, I might've mistaken it for festerblood or something worse." Carver shot back, his concern clear in each word, "It's an Oraff-Zept's blessing that you aren't bedridden now." He moved on quickly. "Tell me about the other symptoms." Garith closed his eyes to limit the light. "My eyesight becomes blurry some times. I struggle to stand for long periods. Head pains are often constant and small until now. They are at their worst whenever I use magic. That is followed by the tail growing and spreading." The healer nodded while he listened. His hand reached for henbane, hemlock, and mint to toss into the mortar. Once he finished grinding, he scraped them into a mug and poured in ale. He held it out to the baron. "Drink this and see if it helps." Garith's nose wrinkled in disdain at the concoction. "It won't." "It is worth trying, isn't it?" Carver countered with some patience. "How did your last healer treat it?" Garith downed the drink and then offered the mug back. "He used binding to make me numb. I had to be extra careful to avoid accidents, but I could do my duties at least." Casually, he curled forward and pressed his temple into his hands. The pain felt worse now. He inhaled deeply in a pitiful attempt to ride it out. Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands pressed against the back of his skull. Garith tensed and then glanced over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" Carver pushed the noble back down. "Stay still. I am trying to figure out what's going on." He forced himself to relax when a tingling sparked across his skin and deep into his muscles. His body twitched against the invading magic as the healer dug for the source. Carver's brow furrowed. "That is... strange. There's a cluster of something here. I'm not sure what it is." The baron scoffed. "Forrest found it too in my mother. He tried to remove it, but it didn't work. Each time he did, it came back and spread." He pictured the healer rolling his eyes at his statement. "Don't believe me, purify it. The cluster will return before the hour is up." Carver opened his mouth to argue when the sounds of stomping boots interrupted him. Hollis had returned. The girl hauled the pail in, her wide motions sent water sploshing across the dirt floor until she set it down. She returned to the entrance and collected the logs next. Tossing them into the pit, she looked to her brother. "All right, that's done. Where's the flint and stone?" "On the table, by the corner," Carver answered, a bit lost in his thoughts. Hollis frowned when she got to the table. After a few sweeps and moving things, she clicked her tongue against her teeth. "No, it's not." "Yes, it is." "I don't see it. Was it on the edge or something?" Her irritation entered her tone again. With a sigh, he moved in next to her and realized she was right. It was gone. His form hunched down to scan the floor beneath. "It was here. I swear I left it here." The girl crossed her arms and tilted her head. "It's not now. Where do you remember having it last?" "I don't know." She reflected on where she had seen them last, but she couldn't recall. Her cheek reddened in anger as she scolded him. "That's wonderful. Now I have to pay the river another visit! I don't want to spend another week looking for more." Meanwhile, Garith sat there rubbing his temple. Their bickering had added to his pain and finally forced him to interrupt. "Enough!" Immediately, their words faded into silence. They both stared at him with a mix of surprise and anger. Ignoring it, he took a moment to restrain his irritation and then addressed Carver. "Is the fire really that important?" "It is something easy to draw from." The missing title didn't go unnoticed, but Garith didn't comment. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Fine, I'll light it. Move aside." He braced his cane and, with a strained effort, pushed onto his feet. Slowly, he stopped at the pit's edge before he extended his palm. His gift tugged at the faint sounds outside before he uttered the spell. "Ipte-Zept's Blessing." A moment of silence washed over the scene. The ash grew hot and sizzled, sparking into flames. Their essence crawled up onto the surface of the logs to settle and spread. Sweat poured down Garith's brow, followed by a dizziness that blurred his vision. A poor decision, and now he suffered for it. Weakness raced up his leg as it crumbled. He leaned into his cane by shifting his weight. The prickling sensation grew in his arm until it raced upward. Helpless to move, the noble fought to keep his pride and stay up against the odds. An arm suddenly wrapped about his and guided him slowly back to the stool. Garith shot a grateful look toward Carver. "Is this normal when you use the gift?" The healer took a moment to study him. "Yes, unfortunately. It is getting to the point that I can't use magic at all without collapsing." Carver moved on. "Did your last healer make any records over this?" "No, he was illiterate. And I wasn't exactly in a good condition to take them myself." Meanwhile, Hollis' gaze hadn't stopped lingering on Garith since he sat down. It was enough to force him to comment. "If you keep staring at me like that, you'll go blind." She pursed her lips briefly. "No I won't." Her eyes turned to her brother. Her eyes then turned to her brother. "What's wrong with him?" "Impurities of a new variety, I believe. I'm still trying to figure it out." "Shouldn't your gift get rid of it? Binding fixes everything after all." Carver's eyes glanced at the baron, "Amost everything, but the lordship thinks it won't help here. I was about to test it out before..." He trailed off. "You lost the flint and stone." She finished. Despite the agonizing pain pounding into his skull, Garith suppressed a chuckle. He saw traces of his younger sister in Hollis when she was that age. However, the girl's sass was far sharper. That's when he heard Carver once more move in behind him. "Hold still, please. I'll try to keep this as painless as possible, but I can't promise anything." "Don’t worry. I am not petty enough to hold a grudge over something small." Once more, the healer's hands touched the back of his skull, and the man's gift stirred Garith's manas. The fire dimmed. The young baron’s hands rested on his cane until his knuckles turned white. More sweat beaded down his brow and stung his eyes. Still, he stared straight ahead and latched onto the stubbornness he had been born with. Flares of pain ebbed and flowed, spinning his vision. He closed his eyes, but instead it became worse. His breath echoed in his ears for what seemed like hours until the healer finally spoke again. "I think I got it all. The mark looks fainter now and I think that's a good sign." Carver pulled back to his herbs. "I'm making you some tea. It should help restore your energy and ease any pain left." "I wouldn't bother." Garith shot back quickly, "It will be back soon and I still need you to numb me." There was a moment of silence between them. Finally, Carver spoke with a slight disbelief at his words. "I mean no offense, my Lord, but I doubt that. If it does return, it won't be instant." He grabbed the dangling hook and hung the pot over the fire. Garith’s eyebrow arched at the healer’s dismissal. Pleasants were rarely rude to their lordships unless a firm familiarity had been fashioned. Garith rested his chin on his cane topper. "We'll see." As if on cue, he felt something warm and wet trickle down his lip. His fingers wiped it away and instantly he spotted the blood coating them. He didn’t seem surprised. Meanwhile, Hollis turned his direction and her eyes widened. "Ah Carver, he's bleeding." "What?” The healer turned to see his upper lip covered in red. “Hollis git the rags! Quick!" Garith continued to tilt his head forward as the cane was taken from his hand and set aside. Still being shirtless, his attention drifted to his arm. The dark mark’s thick tail surfaced once again on the white skin, marring it, before snaking out into the smaller veins. As if to punish him, Garith felt his hands tremble with a subtle warning. He braced himself. The pain exploded in the back of his head causing him to collapse to one side. His hearing started to give out. "Hollis, where ... those ..." "I'm looking!" The girl finally snatched a rag from the table before she rushed back. "... going on?" "He's ... a reaction ... the ... out of the ... and anything else." Garith felt Carver cradle his head and roll him onto his side. "Help me ... him in place... have ... ride this out." The baron watched the healers scramble to help until his sight gave out to darkness. [/hider]