Searching for Something Forgotten (OPEN)

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien stood, stretching. "Yes, she has," He answered. "You didn't really expect her not to?" He shrugged. "If I was taken over by a shade, I wouldn't be surprised if it told everyone everything negative about me." Seeing Aneira being slightly panicky, he added quickly, "Not that she's doing anything of the sorts, not at all. Nothing major, really."

He noticed her not getting any less panicky, so he elaborated. "all trivial things. Things like 'you're dangerous' and not to trust you, and that she would kill herself, and a few other things about me, like I'm foolish. Things that didn't seem to matter too much."

He judged her expression for a moment. "And a few other things that probably hold no truth," He added nonchalantly. If Aneira could see her face she would know that she was showing plenty enough emotion for Damien to have a good guess as to what she was thinking at the moment. He certainly didn't mention that every time Grey came around, she had a habit of pinning him to the floor and generally being somewhat more free with herself than Aneira would likely be comfortable with.

Abruptly, he changed the subject. "How do you feel?" He asked. "You still look off, but you look better than you did before."

[Lujayn]

"Hahaha... yes, me, dangerous, what a ludicrous notion..." she murmured to herself, while mentally ramming her head against the wall. Rubbing her temples, she sighed, feeling a stress headache creeping up on her. Oh, I forgot about that corpse... She made a vague gesture to disconnect herself and dimly was aware of Damien asking a question.

"How do I feel? Pretty terrible, truth be told," she grumbled, "I forgot to disconnect myself from that last corpse... it was giving me a headache, maintaining the connection from so far away. I'm beginning to think I should abandon my craft, clearly I am not cut out for all this..." Not that she meant that. She never did. "At any rate, some food should help. Hot food. Like soup. Generally inns will be serving something like that so maybe we should just pop down to the main level..."

You'll be quite a spectacle, you know, an unescorted woman with a dashing man like Damien there, boarding in the same room. Alone. Grey snickered in the back of her mind.

As far as they know, we could be spouses. Aneira responded.

Honey, no offence to you, but you look far too young to be his spouse. A mistress more like. And everyone knows what mistresses do...

Aneira stood up, adjusted her cloak, and went out the door before Damien could see how red her face was going at the mental imagery Grey was conjuring up to poison her mind.

[WolfEnchantress]

"Well, if you're still alive and kicking I would say you're plenty cut out for it," Damein responded. "Well, to an extent. I'm not sure anyone is 100 percent cut out for messing with the laws of death and whatnot... It seems to me like the natural order of things would go against that. But hey, what do I know?"

Damien gathered himself at the next bit. He was rather too, now that he was thinking about it. Soup would be good.

"Then I suppose we should head down and get some food-" He started, but Aneira had already left. He followed after her, down he stairs and to the main level where, as she had said, the room smelled of something potentially good tasting - Though, despite the smell, the food at inns had a reputation for tasting average. Never better, no matter how good it did smell.

When they arrived at the lower floor, people glanced their way with raised eyebrows. He hesitated.
"If you like, we can sit separately so people won't be so inclined to stare," He offered. He was used to staring and personally had no issue with it. A good dirty look and people usually stopped. But she had an interesting expression, which lead him to believe she thought differently. "It would be no problem. And we wouldn't be really that far apart, so there shouldn't be nay danger in it."

[Lujayn]

Aneira's expression turned to a curious mixture between amusement and despair when she saw the expressions on the faces turned towards them. "I think it's too late," she said with a dead voice, "Any reputation we may have had has been tarnished... probably forever." In truth, it didn't matter much seeing as how they most likely would not be here that long, but the very principle of it...

With a resigned sigh she picked out a table more in the back, where there were less people to stare and a good deal more shadow. It was a little more comfortable to sit in less light, if people got too good a luck at either of them, they might start making dangerous assumptions on what they were.

And that wouldn't go well for either of them.

Aneira settled in a chair, pulling out a few supplies for charm making. While she doubted she'd have any luck selling such low-grade charms in a big trading town like this one, creating them helped her to organize her thoughts and plan out thing. And, hey, on the off chance she could sell a few...

"I suppose we should go and see a cleric to see to your 'problem'," she murmured quietly, scoring deep lines into the surface of the soft rock she had chosen. "As well as mine, although yours is more important at the moment. Seeing as how you should be dead and all..."

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien sighed.
"I don't really know that we had much of a reputetion here to begin with, but we probably do now." He said, leaning back in the chair. Personally, he didn't care what others really thought, but pbviously Aneira did, and that made it bad enough.

As for the cleric...
"Don't we have more important things? Are we just going to ignore the fact that we were just kidnaped and almostkilled, then followed, and did I mention almost killed?" Really, he had become uncertain of this whole binding with Aneira. If they boke the connection with each other, would it hurt her? She was , she seemed to do things that were too much for her. He'd seen how bad she was from the initial act of binding ihm to her - would the un-binding have the same effect?

He sighed, watching Aneira mess with her things. Did he really want to lost the connection? Yes and no. It was a conflicting thought. What about her? Did she? He realized he was watching her and looked away. "I suppose, though, maybe we should. After all, this is doing you more harm than good."

[Lujayn]

Aneira sighed. "There's not much we can do about that right now, is there?" She replied quietly, threading a complicated weave of thread around her charm. "And we're at a severe disadvantage, with this connection and with my possession. I'm not a strong enough Necromancer-yet- to allow you to reach your full potential. I'll always be holding you back. Plus, it's a constant strain on me, although I'm rather used to constant strains at this point..."

She smiled then, a kind smile, and patted his cheek. "You're nice to worry about me, though. Such a nice man."

This was rather much the wrong thing to do, as a table of two men glanced their way and snickered to each other. Aneira sent a pointed, unamused glare at the two, unblinking. They grew increasingly more uncomfortable as her stare bore on, before leaving coin behind and leaving rather hurriedly.

Aneira could be a little creepy when she wanted to.

"Let's get some food in us first, however. We don't want to collapse on our way to the church, do we?" Aneira asked with faint amusement, as if she hadn’t just stared two grown men into running away.

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien nodded, accepting her reply. It was a huge strain on her, that was obvious. And he supposed it would be nice to be at his full potential again, though he was growing rather used to being weaker than usual. Not that he was all that pleased with it, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle.

"All right, we can do whatever you think we should do. You should set the priorities, since you are the one who's basically leading us, keeping me alive and all that. We can find a cleric, but you're right, we should eat." And on cue, someone came by to ask what they would like before giving them a sly look and hurrying off to the kitchens. He leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. There had definitely been more excitement in his life in the past while than there usually was. Surprising to say, but being an assassin could be boring - could get old after a while, doing the same old thing. Granted, the killing bit was something he usually didn't mind, and sometimes rather enjoyed, but otherwise it was somewhat of a waiting game.

Their server came back with their food, looking better than what they had previously been eating but not as good as some things he'd had before. He twirled a fork in his fingers, somewhat lost in thought, before poking idly at his food and taking a bite.

"So, when we aren't connected, how much stronger will you be?" He asked curiously. "How much am I actually taking from you?" He'd just thought of this now. She already impressed him, with raising the dead and keeping him from dying, so then if this was while he was inhibiting her strength, what would she be like otherwise?

[Lujayn]

"I'm always right," Aneira replied haughtily, finishing off her charm and putting it away in another pocket. When the food arrived, she went at it quite eagerly, eating quickly but cleanly. She had been taught good table manners, and she always subconciously adhered to those rules. Even the silly one about elbows on the table.

"Physically? Not an iota. I'm certain that even if you were to be delimbed you could beat me to a blood smear on the floor." As she said that, the mental image of a limbless Damien floundering around popped in her head, and she had to bite her lip to stop from laughing aloud.

There was a visible shaking of her shoulders, though.

She ate a bit more of her food before replying again. "Magically, however, there will be an improvement. I can do a lot more when I'm not using part of my magic to keep my life bound to yours... plus I'll be healthier... sort of... and that plays a part in magic, too. Without resorting to 'cheating', for example, I can normally animate 5 corpses... with you tied to me, the best I can hope for is 3, such as what I had done earlier... which had been an accident, truth be told, I had only meant to pull up one... that could have killed me."

She grimaced, and ate more food. She didn't like remembering how tenous her grasp on life was.

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien smirked at her shaking shoulders, having an idea of what she might be thinking of. He poked at another piece of food on the plate, drawing it around in a circle a few times before finally eating it. Magically stronger? She already seemed strong in his eyes. Five corpses is something he didn’t want to see any time in his life. Three was more than he had ever wanted to see. Granted, it was interesting and all. But terrifying at the same time.
“And if we manage to find a cleric who will perform said separation, will it be as draining as the binding?” Another thought occurred to him. “And what if the poison is still in my body?” Some poisons were the kind that bound to blood, that never went away no matter how much time passed. “If the poison is still in me, then when we separate, I will die regardless, right?” He said matter of factly, as if talking about his possible death was talking about the weather.

He leaned back in his chair. That was something he had never thought of before. And the poison he was given was one he used, but didn't know much about - strange for him, given the circumstances.

((I’m back, for real this time. Now that I am in my dorm with internet and free time, it shouldn’t be a problem at all *Cheers*))

[Lujayn]

"Draining? No, not at all!" she laughed. "Think of it this way. You're carrying a heavy load, and then you're able to put it down. It's a relief, yes?"

Aneira blinked at him at the next bit. "Well, yes, the poison is still in your blood. Your sister gave you that... antidote... thing... that you can't use until we also purify your soul, remember? She said that they had to be used at the same time." She stared at him for a moment. "Maybe you need a nap, I think you're getting forgetful in your old age," she said dryly.

And then shuffled away a little bit.

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien snorted.
"Don't think I forgot," He said, turning to her shuffling form, "But in case you didn't notice before, my sister doesn't like me very much. In fact, she rather despises me. I wouldn't put it past her to give me more poison, and probably of a nastier variety." He laughed, but his tone was not at all joking.

"I am well versed in poisons. And antidotes. But, as many times as I have used this particular poison, I have never, ever used the antidote. Since we left her house, I have been wondering if it is safe to trust that she actually wants me to live. Which brought me to wondering if I could get away with not taking it at all." He sighed, removing the vial from his coat and inspecting the contents. "But, I suppose not. I'll just have to take it and see what happens."

He flipped the vial up, caught it, and stuffed it back into a hidden pocket. Abruptly, he grinned, a smile that was far from touching his eyes.. "I never really had a big, happy family. The big part, but not the happy." And the only sister that could help... He sighed again, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, somewhat lost in thought.

[Lujayn]

Aneira opened her mouth, as if to say something, then shut it. What could she say? There really wasn't anything she could do to verify if the vial held a poison or a cure. Well, there was, sort of, but she didn't have even a quarter of the ingredients for it. And it was untrustworthy at best. Ah, if only she had taken up clerical magic instead... but then, she would never have been in this situation.

She nibbled a bit more food, giving Damien a sidelong glance at his mention of his family. A topic change, of a sort? Not one that's much better... She swallowed her mouthful, then said, "My family was very small. Both my parents were single children, and I was their only child. When I was younger I had always wanted a younger sister..." she shrugged. "I guess we were happy? In a sense? I was more or less left to my own devices since my parents were always so busy with their shop... I wonder if they regret that, now? 'Maybe if I had been more attentive she would not have been a necromancer' sort of a regret... hm."

Another mouthful of food. "I don't really think it's wise to dwell too much on the past. We are dealt with what we are dealt with, after all. It's up to us to make a future." And now she was starting to sound like a tired old cliché, great. "At the very least, I did not have to be married off to the creepy son of a wool factor. So I suppose that's one small blessing," she said with a slight smile, one more sincere than Damien's.

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien gave a slight chuckle.

"Married off? You were going to be forced to marry somebody?" He had heard of it before, but never really seen it practiced successfully. "That's awful. No good ever comes from situations like that. And believe me, I have done off many a husband... Or wife... who isn't satisfactory for their arranged spouse." He sighed. "You did indeed dodge an arrow with that one for sure."

"But, like you said, no need thinking on what could have been." He had a slightly wistful look in his eyes, for just a second. "I'm going to trust that it is the cure. if not, your efforts in keeping me alive may have been wasted, but on the plus side it wouldn't..." He stopped abruptly before finishing the sentence. It wouldn't have been a bad last few weeks. Aneira might take that in a negative way.

"It wouldn't be a complete surprise," He finished the sentence and shrugged. "If I always assume the worse, everything is a pleasant surprise, right?" He chuckled again. "I'll never be disappointed, because it can't be worse than I am assuming it to be." It was a flawed philosophy that he didn't really follow often, but he found that in some situations it was helpful. "After all, I have seen death enough times that I can't really be afraid of it at this point."

That thought sparked another question.
"You, though... Seeing and controlling death like you do... Are you afraid to die? Or does it make it easier, having an idea of what's coming?"

[Lujayn]

"It's a fairly common practice amongst the upper merchants, in my country," she said with a slight shrug, smiling slightly. "It really wouldn't have been too bad, I don't think. I'd met him a few times, and he seemed nice. Not really the kind of guy I'm into though..."

And what IS the kind of guy you're into? came Grey's voice, in her mind. Is it anything like the dashing, dangerous man sitting by you, hm? ... awww, you're blushing!

Aneira steadfastly ignored the rising heat in her face, and the rest of Grey's commentary, and continued on. "He- he was from a family of silk traders, so marrying us together would have combined the businesses, allowing us, tailors, to get silk at cheaper prices and able to turn more of a profit. They, in turn, would have access to our wealth, since I believe they were heavily in debt because of the war with the country next to us... they bought most of the silk that my country produced, so..."

Aneira listened on. What a depressing ideology that was, although it was one she herself often followed, given that was generally the reality of a necromancer...

But at his question, she went from slightly red to sheet white in a matter of seconds. Putting down her utensil, she propped her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together, blue eyes staring silently into nothing. A closer inspection would reveal a slight trembling in her body.

"I don't... no, let me start again. No necromancer knows what happens after death. We just deal with the leftovers of it, for the most part. Corpses and such. Spirits, shades, ghosts... whatever you want to call them... they are those who have not quite moved on properly, or the very faint remnants of whatever they wanted to leave behind. Wraiths are that, you know. Fear and anger and hatred discarded and left to fester." She bit her lip. "But those who left those feelings behind? We don't... we don't know what happens with them.

"I had read a tome, once, a few years back, on a necromancer who was... tracing, I guess you could say... a soul that had recently departed. He watched it for days, as it... wavered around the Death Flow. And then it reached a point and just... that was it. It was gone." She was silent for a moment. "We don't know if you just... stop existing, or you go on to some other place, or become reborn... we don't know.

"What we DO know, at least those of us who have managed to stay alive long enough and have delved deep enough know, is that the Death Flow is an entity in and of itself. Not like a human or elf or whatever, something else entirely. We generally attribute it to... an almost animal-like nature. But it's intelligent. And we pay the price for messing with it. Insanity, illness, rapid aging, the perversion of things around us... death..."

She looked up at him, an indescribable emotion wavering in her eyes. "And it terrifies me. Not just dying. The Death Flow that we all fall into. There's something about the way it interacts with me..." She looked away. "I don't know what it is... something I can't put words to... I...”

Silence again. “... A few years ago... well, let’s just say I should have died. But I didn’t. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to control my magic. Not properly. I’m always open to the Death Flow, I can’t shut it out. It’s why I’m always so . It’s constantly draining on me, although at a far slower rate that when I use necromantic spells. And then my eyes do that... thing. I don’t know why. I don’t know what it means, or if it even means anything, but it terrifies me...”

Aneira shivered, all of a sudden chilled. “Let’s get going,” she said abruptly, standing. “I’d prefer to see a cleric when there are less people around...”

[WolfEnchantress]

Damien listened with interest. It seemed to be the same story of most forced marriages - it would be for the best, and they seemed to like each other. Who knows, maybe it would have worked out. He tried picturing Aneira as a tailor, but the picture he got in his head made him smirk.

As he listened though, he stopped, his sthingy halfway between his mouth and the plate. As she spoke, he slowly lowered it back down, his eyes fixed intently on Aneira's. She definitely looked like what she was describing was less pleasant that she was making it sound. The soul had just... Disappeared? How? What happened to it?

He briefly thought about just how many souls he had sent to just disappear like the one that had been traced. And then she said the last bit, and his eyes widened. It was constantly pulling at her.... so then, she was constantly dying? What would happen when it had nothing left to pull?

Damien was morbidly curious. He had a dozen questions, but he shut his mouth and didn't ask any of them - this was a topic she didn't seem comfortable talking about, and she probably wouldn't appreciate more questions. He asked too many as it was.

When she abruptly stood, he followed, leaving a few coins on the table. They walked out the doors of the inn, followed by a few poorly hidden glances. His mind was really only half on the task at hand.

"We could wait until the middle of the night, if you really want no people around." He said, idly noticing that there were actually quite a few people around.