Trenchcoat and Spellbook?

[DarkWarrioress]

"Knowledge is knowledge, be it used for good or evil, Master Archimedes cares not. It is important that knowledge be given to any who seek of their own accord. No....it is Annalise's punishment for even threatening the use of fire in this place that has her exiled. Surely you could imagine how much damage a single flame could do here?"

As Catherine’s words sunk in, Mirela’s eyes widened. Disbelief filled the brown colored orbs that scanned the room before her.

“Annalise threatened to------“

Mirela’s eyes came back to the gentle ghostly specter beside her.

“But why?”

What could possibly have happened that made Annalise threaten to torch this place? Mirela found herself distracted yet again as Catherine explained about the Halflings. Mirela, feeling perhaps, braver, more confident, in Catherine’s presence, stepped closer to a wall on her right. It filled from floor to ceiling with shelves, all of which, were filled with books. Halflings bustled around her, carrying books to another Halfling that stood on a ladder, tucking books here in, here and there, amongst the ones already residing on the shelves.

All these books. Somewhere amongst them were the answers she sought. Answers that Lucas sought. But where to start? And what did she want to learn first? How she had killed Lucas’ plant? How were her emotions and the ability to do this tied together? How did these visions manifest in her? Oh, how her fingers itched to flip through the pages of the books before her until her mind was filled with more answers than questions. Her lips twitched into a half smile. Granny would not have appreciated the knowledge stored in these books. People tainted the truth. Truth was shaped and influenced by personal experiences and emotions. How things were viewed and processed was completely personal so Granny never trusted books. She believed in family and things, sayings, wisdom, passed down from one generation to the next. Truth, like life, was personal. No one experienced either in exactly the same way. Still, Granny was no longer around to teach her and so, her education depended on her own journey and books. Mirela knew she just had to keep an open mind about everything and something would resonate sooner or later.

Lucas. Damnit. Why didn’t you come with me instead of sending me here with your…your… succubus? One that couldn't even enter this place to begin with.

Inwardly, she sighed. She knew why. Lucas had things to do. Important things. They were going to help Father Corcoran. Still, this had been his idea to begin with. How in the world was she going to stuff a lot of knowledge into her head in such a short time? She was only a gypsy for goodness sake, not a witch.. or a… a… wizard. Or something. Mirela did a half turn to face Catherine. She was about to tell the spirit that she had changed her mind and hopefully Catherine wouldn’t mind showing her the way out and hopefully Annalise was still around, somewhere. Mirela’s lips had just parted to speak…..

"Master Archimedes will see you, Miss Mirela. He says you are important enough of a visitor, and that he has much to discuss with you. Will you follow me please?"

Master Archimedes? Mirela blinked. Oh yes! The man she was here to see. But important? Her? He had to be kidding, right? She was just some ordinary gypsy girl. Mirela shoved her hands into her pants pockets and gave Catherine a small nervous smile.

“Of course, Catherine. Please lead on.”

She just prayed that Master Archimedes was, at least, well….human. That wouldn’t be too much to ask for, would it?

 

[dryfter]

“Annalise threatened to------“

"No, no dear. Annalise isn't that stupid."

The breathy, feminine voice behind her seemed almost amused. Still, at least the human girl had fallen into step behind the drifting specter, never straying more than a step or two at any point in time. That was good, as the shelves arranged themselves into more of a labyrinthine pattern as they went, until it felt like they had been walking for hours......well....one of them had.

And there, in the center of it all sat an aged, wizened old man at a desk. Even before his eyes lifted up to take in the sight of his sudden guests, the dusty air around him billowed with a soft harrumph as the codger removed his own beard from where it had spilled into his inkpot, leaving a dark stain in the snowy white expanse. He never once moved to stand, instead promptly plunking his old fashioned quill pen back into the now vacant inkwell and folding his fingers before himself to glare at them both.

"Annalise likes to pull pranks. Tricks. Annoyances. I have little patience for such things. Welcome Mirela. I....am Archimedes. I see you've met Catherine. Excellent."

A wicked little smile showed a flash of the sage's ill humor for their current topic, though not how he knew what the two of them had been speaking of.

"Even a demoness must give pause to an old man who owns a gorgon and a Bane-Sidhe, yes?"

Catherine bowed softly, smiling demurely enough to hopefully take the edge off the look their guest was giving her. Even humans in this day and age heard tell of the old tales. And much of them, in their host's case.....were true.

So it was that only Archimedes noted the look of confusion on the young woman's face. With a soft frown and a clearing of the throat, the sage quickly moved to educate....

"Bane-Sidhe. Its a Celtic term. You see the fae realm is divided into two courts. The Seelie and the Unseelie Court. Not that a youngster like you cares about such things, nor is it what you came here for. However, over the years the name has been bastardized slightly. Language has become so insufferably lazy, you see. Banshee is the proper term now, I believe. Surely that should have some meaning to you?"

There was no question it did. And the sage was pleased to see the glimmer of knowledge, as well as understanding, light up in the young girl's eyes. So much so that any horror was completely overlooked. Still, Catherine kept her demeanor calm and collected. It was what her Master expected of her.....

"Gypsies."

The word lingered on his tongue. An alluring lure that he knew would seize her attention the moment he said it. Indeed, there wasn't much that went on in this place that he missed.

"I have several books if you'd the time to read. But I feel that isn't what you've come here to do, is it? No, no. Your Master Lucas seems to enjoy taking me away from my studies so he can hear an old man prattle. Still....I'm rather fond of our conversations. Not many bother to visit me here.....certainly not many lovely young women."

For the first time, she could feel his eyes upon her, taking in every curve she presented as if he were chronicling it for another of his books. And yet there was nothing lecherous about his gaze, only wistful perhaps.....

"No bards speak of the original gypsies. No records show who fathered, or perhaps mothered if you will, the clans that once roamed the whole of Europe and part of Asia centuries ago. However....I have several records of the clans themselves, pieces written about their constant feuds, as well as the few times they were forced to band together against a common threat."

His voice lowered conspicuously, as if knowing what he said next would be of particular interest to his newest guest.

"Also a compendium of abilities most commonly found amongst each clan. Perhaps even a treatise or two as to their use?"

A wink and a soft chuckle, an outstretched hand, and he was finally motioning the young shopkeeper......to occupy the seat opposite of his desk.....should she find a place for the dusty stack of tomes that currently occupied it.

Yes....it had been some time since he'd last had a visitor.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

“Annalise threatened to------“

"No, no dear. Annalise isn't that stupid."

Part of Mirela was listening to ghostly lady as she following close behind. Where were they going? How would she ever find her way out of this place? And who the heck was Archimedes? I still haven’t met him yet. Close behind that thought came another, Do I really want to? This place was blowing her mind. A spirit, halflings and what? An Archimedes. There simply was no way of knowing just what or who Archimedes was until they ran into him and presumably, that’s who Catherine was taking her to now.

…… "Even a demoness must give pause to an old man who owns a gorgon and a Bane-Sidhe, yes?"

Bane-Sidhe? Gorgon? What kind of world had she stepped into now?

Even the sight of a elderly man sitting at his desk with a beard stained by what looked like ink, could hardly make Mirela feel at ease here. Her eyes flashed to Catherine who was simply floating beside Archimedes desk, giving a little bow. Which was she? Gorgon or what was that term he just used? Bane… Bane-Sidhe. That was it. Her eyes drifted back to the man called Archimedes. Her confusion must have showed.

"Bane-Sidhe. Its a Celtic term. You see the fae realm is divided into two courts. The Seelie and the Unseelie Court. Not that a youngster like you cares about such things, nor is it what you came here for. However, over the years the name has been bastardized slightly. Language has become so insufferably lazy, you see. Banshee is the proper term now, I believe. Surely that should have some meaning to you?"

Banshee. When he said it that way, it did. For the first time, she understood what he meant. Her eyes darted to Catherine again, lingering briefly until he spoke again.

”Gypsies.”

It was but a single word. Nothing special to most. To her, it was everything. Mirela found is eyes assessing her but not in a lewd sort of way. It was merely, assessing. Still, she could feel the color rise in her cheeks and it took everything in her not to fidget. He couldn’t possibly know that she… and Lucas… no. There was no way he could know.

"No bards speak of the original gypsies. No records show who fathered, or perhaps mothered if you will, the clans that once roamed the whole of Europe and part of Asia centuries ago. However....I have several records of the clans themselves, pieces written about their constant feuds, as well as the few times they were forced to band together against a common threat."

He leaned forward at his desk, eye twinkling as if he knew some great secret and Mirela, never doubted that for a moment.

"Also a compendium of abilities most commonly found amongst each clan. Perhaps even a treatise or two as to their use?"

Her breath caught as her eyes stared back at him. Wily, old fox. She was thoroughly captivated. So when he motioned for her to take a seat across from him, her lips quirked into a small grin. Charming. She had forgotten to add charming to the list. Mirela delicately lifted the stack of books that occupied the seat he had motioned to. Undaunted, she shifted them to the floor with a grunt. To her left to be precise. As the books made contact with the floor, a small cloud of dust rose around them, making Mirela cough and wave her hands about. Yes. Exactly like Lucas. The gypsy sat down and looked eagerly at Archimedes.

“I remember listening to my mother and grandmother talk on day, they were speaking of our clan. Slavic, I think or was it? Perhaps it was Romy, “ Mirela frowned, “I wasn’t listening too well that day, I’m afraid. This whole gypsy business,” she gave a wave of her hand, “The Sight, was something I wasn’t interested in…..until recently.”

Mirela didn’t mention that she hadn’t believed in it either. She had considered it all nonsense, a flight of fancy, that is, until it started to happen to her. Her dark eyes found the old man’s watching her intently.

“Lucas.. he..uh….”

She bit her bottom lip as she absentmindedly started to wring her hands. It was all she could do not to fidget in her seat as well. Mirela swallowed. This whole gypsy business was uncomfortable, but Lucas had sent her here for a purpose. The team needed her. Of course, Annalise probably didn’t believe that. Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, Mirela simply blurted the rest out.

“I killed a plant thinking bad thoughts.”

It came out in rush as if the words themselves were dirty and unbelievable.

“Father Michael has a mission…and he needs Lucas…. Lucas needs me but…. I need to know more. I can see things… bad things.. as they happen…. “

Her eyes took on a pleading look.

“Can you help me please, Mr. Archimedes, Sir?”

What the hell do you call someone like Archimedes anyway?

 

[dryfter]

"Mr. Archimedes, sir?"

He repeated her words back to her, more than a little quizzically, as if testing their weight. In truth, he was in essence....tasting her words.....finding them agreeable or if they would leave a sour taste in his mouth. In the end....he found the suffix to be a touch too proper for his aged tastes, though the child meant well.

"Just Archimedes will do, Miss Mirela. Though I might say a lovely young lass such as yourself could potentially get away with simply.....Archie."

A bony hand raised then, waving dismissively at first, then rather agitatedly as more of the past conversation returned to him now that he was over deciding that he disliked the "Sir" and "Mister" monikers.

"Of course you didn't listen. You were a child. Children don't listen. Tell them the sky is blue, and they'll argue with you for days that its purple. Tell you things like fairies and spriggans don't exist, just because they've never seen one."

He rose from his rather comfortable looking leather-backed chair as fast as she sank into hers, paying no mind to the cloud of dust Mirela practically choked on as she deposited his precious tomes upon the ground beside her. His gnarled hand, withered to the point where it was very nearly possible to count each bone and tendon, watch them dance beneath his parchment like skin.....reached upward to stroke the snow white beard upon his chin nervously.

"I care very little for Lucas' needs. I'll have you know that now. What I care about is knowledge.....and the inquiring minds who seek it, young lady. As matters stand, its been some time since I've had the chance to go over anything concerning gypsies. I would be more than happy to allow you the chance to peruse a few of my more....memorable tomes."

Archimedes winced slightly at the story of the dead plant, his face set and grim.

"Well of course you killed it. I'll wager you weren't even aware of the power within a curse, were you? Foolish Lucas. Teaching a child such things. A warlock no less, who has never spit a curse in his life. Doesn't know how, you see. Summon a daemon capable of splitting the world in two? Easy. Mumble a curse under his breath? Impossible."

The old man was rambling now, only half aware of his guest and her spectral escort.

"So you killed a plant. Is that all?"

For the first time, the old man levelled a rather hawkish glare at the young gypsy woman. He stood in silence for a long moment before elaborating at what appeared to be hesitation......

"I mean is that the extent of your abilities. Cursing? I should shudder to think that I'd be asked to help strengthen just that. Sounds like yet another disaster in the making to me."

And just as suddenly as his sharp, confrontational demeanor had appeared, it was gone as another bit of conversation revisited the eccentric brain of the old sage.

"Wait just a moment? What's this? Did I hear you correctly? This is all for a mission that Father Michael has undertaken? Certainly not that crazy priest? Am I wrong? The overzealous nutcase who seems to destroy a block or more of real estate every time he goes "hunting?" Preposterous! That man will only get you killed. I recommend you forgetting any involvement with him immediately."

"Archimedes likes Father Michael only slightly more than Annalise. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before....but I didn't think he'd come up in conversation."

The softly whispered words of Catherine drifted on the air, kept low and soft with the intent to calm their guest. The Master oft times didn't realize how some of his rants had the tendency to.....stress.....others.

Shaking his head violently, the topic took yet another about face, as if the sage were shaking off a bad memory.

"Slovic. Yes. Romy? Perhaps. I have information on both clans. The Serbs as well. Russians, most certainly. Greek gypsies? Absolutely. We'll start with the first two however. Though I scarce believe you're here to just read books, are you? No, no....you're here to find out what you can do. And as long as it doesn't deal with fire.....or rain either for that matter.....perhaps I can teach you a few things."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Calling him Archimedes was one thing…but Archie? Mirela canted her head slightly as she regarded the elderly man before her…. No way. No how.

"Well of course you killed it. I'll wager you weren't even aware of the power within a curse, were you? Foolish Lucas. Teaching a child such things. A warlock no less, who has never spit a curse in his life. Doesn't know how, you see. Summon a daemon capable of splitting the world in two? Easy. Mumble a curse under his breath? Impossible."

She shook her head as she clasped her hands in her lap.

“Of course I didn’t. I don’t even understand how or why all of a sudden I can now see things, things I rather not see, mind you but apparently I have little choice in the matter. Please don’t find blame with Lucas. I think he was just testing the waters so to speak, trying to find out what exactly I am capable of doing at the moment and frankly, Si—um, Archimedes, I am scared out of my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I knew such things exist, my mother and grandmother saw things, could do things, but I never once had anything like that happen to me. I figured it simply passed over me… until recently. I have nowhere to turn to about such things. Grandmother has long since passed over and Momma is, well, out of the country with Papa right now. They went back to the Old Country. Lucas needs help now and I do not wish to be a hindrance to him and his group….”

"So you killed a plant. Is that all? I mean is that the extent of your abilities. Cursing? I should shudder to think that I'd be asked to help strengthen just that. Sounds like yet another disaster in the making to me."

“No,” Mirela shuddered at the thought of what else she had been able to do, “no that isn’t all. I see things too, Archimedes. In my mind. I just…” she shrugged her shoulders slightly and spread her hands wide, looking at him with wide dark eyes, “…see things. Awful things. Horrid things.”

Her mind shot back to the evilness that had almost killed her if it hadn’t been for Annalise.

"Wait just a moment? What's this? Did I hear you correctly? This is all for a mission that Father Michael has undertaken? Certainly not that crazy priest? Am I wrong? The overzealous nutcase who seems to destroy a block or more of real estate every time he goes "hunting?" Preposterous! That man will only get you killed. I recommend you forgetting any involvement with him immediately."

The Elder’s words drew her back into the present and having caught them, it was all she could do not to giggle. Mirela knew he spoke the truth, having only seen a small bit of Father Michael’s abilities but it had been enough to assure her that Father Michael was a force to be reckoned with. Before she could tell him that Father Michael had been a help to her, Catherine’s soft voice chimed in.

"Archimedes likes Father Michael only slightly more than Annalise. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before....but I didn't think he'd come up in conversation."

“Oh dear. I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned him?”

Mirela glanced from the ghostly floating lady to the elderly scholar.

"Slovic. Yes. Romy? Perhaps. I have information on both clans. The Serbs as well. Russians, most certainly. Greek gypsies? Absolutely. We'll start with the first two however. Though I scarce believe you're here to just read books, are you? No, no....you're here to find out what you can do. And as long as it doesn't deal with fire.....or rain either for that matter.....perhaps I can teach you a few things."

The conversation in this room whirled about subjects so quickly, Mirela could feel the inkling of a headache trying to nudge its way in. Her eyes closed briefly before refocusing on Archimedes.

“I would love to read a few books as well, but yes, I’m here to try to find out what other talents I may have. “

There was hesitation and wariness in the look she shot Archimedes.

“What kind of things exactly?”

 

[dryfter]

“What kind of things exactly?”

The old man simply chuckled and waved a hand before her once more, as if dismissing an impatient student in favor of the lesson at hand. At least the girl seemed more patient than he had anticipated. Most idiots simply wanted the condensed version of things, this one was actually willing to read if he set her to the task!

"Charms of course. Curses. Perhaps giving you a few pointers regarding your....foresight. Tell me? How are you emotionally when you're seeing these horrible things? Prophets and oracles who are stressed mentally tend to see cataclysms, wars, horrible bloodshed and demonic entities. While a sense of self and peace....serenity, if you will.....tends to lead to more pleasant things. Not always, mind you. Serenity can be shattered with a single note of discord."

Archimedes tossed her a sly wink as he turned to thumb through one of the thicker tomes on his desk.

"It takes a wiser man to realize that it only takes a calming touch to quell the cacophony of chaos. Do try and remember that when life seems at its bleakest."

The humor faded from his voice as aged eyes fixed upon her like an owl's might.

"Did you know.....that lycanthropy originated from a curse?"

The old sage paused for a moment, letting that and all its implications sink in.

"Legends point toward it being a gypsy who uttered the curse as well. A malicious old hag of a woman, some poor fool of a lad chose to spurn in a moment of arrogance. So you see....curses can have a long term effect at times, and should never be uttered lightly."

Meanwhile, the translucent librarian had taken to busying herself with dusting.....coating of gray silt that never seemed to end in abundance. Humming to herself happily, the banshee made a welcome contrast to her master's suddenly serious manner.

"So you need to be aware that emotion plays a large part in each word uttered. A half hearted curse will just result in you looking silly. But one uttered with genuine hatred or malice will do much more than just wither plants, dear girl."

Slowly, the aged hands pushed the tome towards the girl-woman that she was in his eyes. It didn't take long for her to become completely absorbed in the words.....

A compendium of curses, recorded over the ages, and their effects from mundane to terrifying. Of course, there were others, ones that deserved to never see the light of day again. Not that Mirela couldn't already utter them if properly provoked. But a thing of imagination should be left to just that.....and not prompted.....especially where those were concerned.

"When you've finished that, I'll have you glance through a novel of Charms I came across. Everything from luck talismans to trinkets guaranteed to make a man fall in love with you. Not that those haven't been overdone throughout the years...."

His voice dripped with the sarcasm he felt, and he had no doubt that she caught it too.

"And then....if you don't mind....I'll be putting this famous "second sight" to the test. I've done precious little research of my own on it, you see....and would love to see it first hand if you could somehow get it to manifest. Ah, but that is some time off. Tis my time to be patient, I'm afraid. Yes, yes.....see to your reading, and I'll send Catherine for something soothing to drink."

A wan smile later, and Archimedes' own nose was buried yet again inside one of his many dusty librams.......the library falling once more into a hushed silence......

 

[DarkWarrioress]

“What kind of things exactly?”

She had asked him and found herself holding her breath.

"Charms of course. Curses. Perhaps giving you a few pointers regarding your....foresight. Tell me? How are you emotionally when you're seeing these horrible things? Prophets and oracles who are stressed mentally tend to see cataclysms, wars, horrible bloodshed and demonic entities. While a sense of self and peace....serenity, if you will.....tends to lead to more pleasant things. Not always, mind you. Serenity can be shattered with a single note of discord."

How did she feel emotionally when she saw those…those… horrid images? Mirela quietly chewed on her bottom lip as she delved deeply into her psyche for an answer. The tip of her tongue snaked out from her slightly parted lips to rest a moment on her upper lip. Troubled, darkened brown eyes sought those of the old sage.

“At first, I feel serene. Then as the images come… I feel… disquieted. “

Disquieted. Yeah. That was it but there was something more behind it. Something, she didn’t shied away from examining at all. It was as if, if she named it? She’d have to own it and Mirela didn’t want to be someone like that.

“Master Archimedes? Why now? Why am I having these..these.. abilities surface now, after all these years? I can’t remember a single time, growing up, where I could or did see things, predict things, if you will or even being able to curse something like a plant.”

Her lips quirked in a parody of a cheeky grin.

“Man, how cool would that have been back then. The kids in school probably would have been afraid of me.”

At least they wouldn’t have mocked or made fun of me back then.

In her younger years, Mirela had been this gawky, small, thin, child with big brown eyes. People had often commented on her eyes and how they seemed to dominant her face. It had only been in the last two years of high school had she truly bloomed into this exotic, lovely, young lady but by then, it hadn’t mattered. The boys in the school had an ever fascination with the school’s football cheerleaders and it always seemed like the blondes got all of the attention. Long blonde wavy hair accompanied by long slender legs and huge tits made any other type of girl vanish from view. Of course, the girls on the cheerleading squad knew they had it and they flaunted it. Brazenly. Shamelessly.

There had actually once been a boy show interest in Mirela. He had even started to carry her books for her, from her locker to her next class. Someone, probably one of the girls on the cheerleading squad, had pointed it to their captain. Bethany Thompson. Blonde, blue-eyed, legs that seemed to go on forever and while she didn’t exactly have huge tits, they were big enough for any guy to feel like he had hit the jackpot if he got the opportunity to feel her up. There were a lot of the guys in school who could boast about doing so, that was for sure. Mirela wasn’t sure why Bethany had done it. Maybe the cheerleader couldn’t stand there being even one guy who wasn’t interested in her charms. Maybe it was a group thing. Who knew. The only thing Mirela had understood was that this boy started coming to meet her less and less until he stopped altogether. He hadn’t even bothered to talk to Mirela when they passed in the hallway. Why would he when he had his arm wrapped around Bethany? There had been one time when his and Mirela’s eyes had met in passing. She saw contrition flash in his before he actually looked away.

"It takes a wiser man to realize that it only takes a calming touch to quell the cacophony of chaos. Do try and remember that when life seems at its bleakest."

Mirela blinked. Chaos? Hm? What had she missed?

"Did you know.....that lycanthropy originated from a curse?"

Lycanthropy? What the sam hell-----

“Lycanthropy. Isn’t that when someone turns into a wolf? Is that really possible?”

Even as she asked the question, she knew it was. Considering everything she had thus far experienced since meeting Lucas, why wouldn’t it be?

"Legends point toward it being a gypsy who uttered the curse as well. A malicious old hag of a woman, some poor fool of a lad chose to spurn in a moment of arrogance. So you see....curses can have a long term effect at times, and should never be uttered lightly.

"So you need to be aware that emotion plays a large part in each word uttered. A half hearted curse will just result in you looking silly. But one uttered with genuine hatred or malice will do much more than just wither plants, dear girl."

Her fingers reached out to take up the tome that Archimedes had dusted off and pushed toward her. Taking it up, Mirela cautiously opened it and peered at the words on the first page.

"When you've finished that, I'll have you glance through a novel of Charms I came across. Everything from luck talismans to trinkets guaranteed to make a man fall in love with you. Not that those haven't been overdone throughout the years...."

The disdain and sarcasm she heard in his voice, made her glance at him. She had almost snorted quite unladylike. Almost. Mirela had no need for trinkets to make a man fall in love with her. He either was interested or not. Even if she believed a trinket could do such things, why would she use it or encourage anyone to use one? One would forever be in a torment, was he in love with the person or was he under a spell to do so? No. Love charms and trinkets she could do without. Period.

"And then....if you don't mind....I'll be putting this famous "second sight" to the test. I've done precious little research of my own on it, you see....and would love to see it first hand if you could somehow get it to manifest. Ah, but that is some time off. Tis my time to be patient, I'm afraid. Yes, yes.....see to your reading, and I'll send Catherine for something soothing to drink."

With one finger marking her place on the page, Mirela had opened her mouth to speak and then changed her mind. Her head swiveled in Catherine’s direction.

“Tea for me please, Miss Catherine.”

Mirela’s words were soft and respectful. After all, she was speaking to a banshee. Yes, tea would do nicely. Hopefully Master Archimedes would ask for the same. He was going to get his wish soon enough she was sure.

Mirela directed her attention back to the book in her lap and the writings there.

 

[dryfter]

"Here you are, Master. Miss Mirela."

Ghostly as she was, Catherine moved without sound. Though she wasn't without power herself, easily balancing a tea tray with one hand despite the fact that the actual flesh that should have been there had turned to funeral ash centuries ago.

"Tea. Just as you like it, Master Archimedes. Though this time the blend is the gift from Master Lucas. I believe you know it well, Miss Mirela?"

A soft smile, the banshee demurely avoided all gazes. She wasn't here to cause a commotion, merely to serve and then disappear into the background until she was needed again.

"As you requested, Master.....a glass of bourbon was issued by the halfling to the succubus waiting outside. Though I doubt it will do much to curb her normally insolent tongue, I might add that she seemed unnaturally....subdued."

Archimedes chortled in response, "Subdued how? She's decided to keep her clothes on this time?"

"Begging Master's pardon, Annalise barely said anything at all to me. Even managed to thank me for the drink. She's been rather patient through all this. That's unlike her."

"Pay it no mind unless she decides to storm the library and start trouble again. We've more important things to deal with today. Now if you'll excuse us, Catherine....I'd like to get back to my studies, and I'm sure Miss Mirela feels the same. If its not too much trouble, could you return in a couple hours with fresh tea, and perhaps something for our guest to eat?"

The spectral librarian merely nodded and bowed softly, backing up and eventually through....a bookcase.

"As you wish, Master Archimedes."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Across the city, yet another tome had long ago been cracked open. Not a treatise, nor a novella of any kind. Indeed, the book that lay before him made his eyes hurt....how the scattered runes tried to crawl away from his vision unless he focused just right. But such was the way of the Arcane. Those who were weak or gave up held no chance of mastering the liquid scribbling that held unimaginable power. But those of iron will and determination.....

Yes, Mirela had been rescued. But he had been there to witness just what shape Annalise had returned her in. And while a small, decidedly dark part of him revelled in what the succubus had done to the shopkeeper's tormentor.....the much more prevalent part of him refused to believe that any were more at fault than him.

Sure Annalise had goaded him. Had even tried to use him....and Mirela.....as breeding material. The succubus had meant well, albeit in a very twisted manner much befitting her kind. In fact, that made it harder for him to be angry with her. He should have known she would have pulled something like this. It was her deviousness he enjoyed most of all, much more than her body certainly. But to victimize Mirela like that.....

Worst of all was the events that unravelled afterward. The lovely gypsy had fled his office, his home. No doubt deeply insulted, he had let her go. And in doing so, had opened up the door for what had transpired next.

The hand clutching the quill tightened, and the delicate feather stem snapped with ease spraying ink everywhere, and temporarily ruining his transcription. If he hadn't at care enough to have been watching. Never mind the cost. He would have kept that spell going until it fell apart beneath his exhausted mind.

To hell with the consequences. As things stood, Lucas felt that he had gotten off far too easily. He had Annalise to thank for that. At least the demoness hadn't fought his order when he needed her most. Though perhaps it was for that very reason....that she had so readily obeyed.

Mirela wasn't the only one who needed to get stronger in the short time they had left. He would drink the revitalizing tea until it was no longer able to keep his mind fresh and his eyes awake enough to continue.

But by the time sleep finally did claim him......days later.......he would be found by his orcish butler.....a strange, contented smile upon his slumbering face......

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Tea. Of course it would be tea.

”…… Though this time the blend is the gift from Master Lucas. I believe you know it well, Miss Mirela?"

Mirela glanced into the tea cup and saucer that Catherine was holding out to her.

It’s only tea, Mirela. Calm yourself.

“Thank you, Miss Catherine.”

Mirela lowered her head to delicately sniff the tea, recognizing the blend. She gave Catherine another smile.

“Indeed I do. Lucas seems to enjoy it.”

Balancing the teacup and the saucer in her hand, Mirela glanced down at the large tome in her lap. Curses. From what she had read so far, what she had done to that plant, she felt like an infant.

“Master Archimedes? Lucas asked me to think upon someone, someone who had done very bad things to me and to project my feelings about this person to the plant and then… then the plant died. I never uttered one word. It was all feeling. Is that the same as actually cursing someone? Everything I have read here so far has been where someone has actually spoken a curse. “

Wait. Had Archimedes and Catherine just spoken about Annalise?

The young gypsy opened her lips to say something then rather quickly changed her mind. If she mentioned anything about Annalise, she might have to explain why the succubus was seemingly subdued and that was something Mirela rather not get into with strangers. Instead, she glanced down into her teacup and realized she had almost finished. One more sip. She couldn’t help but glance into the bottom of the delicate cup and watch, with fascination, the tea leaves swirl and settle onto the bottom.

The air in the room suddenly stilled and room itself, in this huge library, faded away. White enveloped her. There was something…or someone…. forming right before her eyes. Orbs of black. Two of them were inches in front of her face. It took Mirela a minute or two to realize what they were and when she did, she let out a blood curdling scream. They were eyes. Pitch black except for the pupils. Small circles of red and the look in them were malevolent. It was as if those eyes were looking directly into hers, so much so that Mirela found herself jerking backwards. The action was instinctive.

“You bloody fools! I did not bring you into this world to run amok destroying everything you set your sights on. You will bring every priest for miles around this way. When the time comes, I will give you plenty to destroy. We do not need the extra trouble those fool men of the cloth will bring us. Especially that fool Father Michael Corcoran. Not just yet. Have patience. He will be served up to you when the time comes. That meddlesome, loathsome, sorry sack of righteous.”

Mirela could feel the blood leaving her face. Her breath sucked in deeply. Before her, another being came into view. Something hideous, swaddled in chains. A Kyton! She couldn’t hear, let alone understand it but she knew it was communicat6ing with the being that had those awful eyes. There was a deep rumble of laughter. The sound of it made the fine hair at the back of her neck stand up and a very cold shiver slide down her spine. The owner of the black eyes spoke again.

“Taken a liking to the little wench, have you? Strange. She’s just another loathsome human being with very little to offer this world.”

All Mirela could make out was a guttural sounds but the eyes seemed to understand it. There was another rumble of dark laughter.

“Done! The little gypsy is marked as yours, my friend.”

Mirela’s eyes widened with surprise. Fear rose up into her throat until she thought it would choke her. She wanted to run. Some place. Anywhere. Just away from here. Away from the scene she had been eavesdropping on. Except in the beginning, when those evil eyes seemed to have been trained on her, Mirela had been listening to this conversation as if she was standing behind the person with the black eyes. Now, those eyes seemed to turn on her again. Impossible. It. He, couldn’t actually see her….could he?

“Yes, little gypsy. I will deliver you to my pet here. For him to do with you anything he wants to…..”

No. No… no. It was impossible. THIS was impossible. She had to get out of here. Now. Quickly.

“Miss Mirela….. MIRELA!!!”


The next thing Mirela felt was a sharp sting to her cheek. The force of it made her blink and wince. Her eyes watered then cleared. Standing in front of her was Master Archimedes, clutching her arms. The gypsy inhaled sharply. She was safe. She was in the library with Archimedes and Catherine. The ghostly banshee hovered nearby, looking concerned.

“Shall I fetch Lucas, Master? He should probably at least be informed of this.”

Mirela glanced to the floor and noticed the delicate teacup on the floor in shards.

“Oh, Master Archimedes, my apologies. It seems I broke your teacup. “

Mirela looked up to find Catherine’s eyes upon her.

“Milady Catherine, please. Would you inform Annalise that I need Lucas? By the time he arrives, Master Archimedes and I will have had a chance to speak together. “

After making her small request, Mirela became aware of her shaking body. She was just a fledging gypsy at best. Nothing even remotely close to what her mother and grandmother use to be. How was she going to be of any help to Lucas or Father Michael? She could make a plant die but making a plant die was far from being able to help with these Kytons and that person with such evil eyes. Mirela was in over her head here and never had she felt so helpless in her whole life. Her eyes switched from Catherine’s to Archimedes gruff yet concerned blue eyes.

“Master Archimedes, I need your help. “

There was something in her tone that implied this went beyond simple gypsy curses or tea leaf readings.

 

[dryfter]

“Oh, Master Archimedes, my apologies. It seems I broke your teacup."

That brought about a rather stoic harumph. A few hastily muttered words, most likely too hushed for the gypsy to catch, but one can never be too sure.....

Both of them watched as the fine porcelain cup, in all its shards, rose from the ground to silently reassemble itself. More miraculous still, was each crack mending and disappearing one at at time before their very eyes.

"There now. Surely you realize you've more to concern yourself about than my tableware, child?"

Catherine was there of course, fussing about like the mother hen she had been in life. For a moment Archimedes stifled a chuckle as the thought occurred to him that the banshee would have made a fine nun....had her life not been cut so tragically short.

“Milady Catherine, please. Would you inform Annalise that I need Lucas? By the time he arrives, Master Archimedes and I will have had a chance to speak together. “

The wizened sage had been about to rebuff his librarian. The warlock would ne'er have a place here, not in this discussion at least. Still....Archimedes held his tongue in check, not one to miss the look of desperation in the much younger woman's eyes. To be in love again. Silently, he pondered once more, wondering if Lucas saw what appeared so plainly now. Probably not. Probably too busy wrapped up in all his studies. Well.....it wasn't like he himself were much better. If he hadn't been specifically asked to coach this girl......

"Do as she requests, Catherine, my dear. It wouldn't do to have our guest in a continuous state of nervous tension."

"Yes, Master Archimedes."

That concluded the exchange, with the spectral woman sinking straight into the ground as if it weren't even there.

"Catherine tends to travel underground. Less attention that way. Though I dare say she enjoys the legends she spawns among the more unfortunate maintenance workers who are unlucky enough to spy her among the city sewers."

Another mischievous wink as slowly color returned to Mirela's face. After all, there was little to fear in this place. While hardly impossible, few in the city would dare chance an encounter with him of all people. Though otherworldly daemons could be a different story. The serious look returned in a rush with the sobering thought. Even he would be ill equipped for just such a battle.....and the collateral damage would be staggering. No....best to conclude this quickly. Not a single book could be harmed, certainly not as a result of harboring this girl.

"So tell me what you saw. That is what you wanted to speak about, yes?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She should have known. Given the place she was in, although she still wasn’t quite sure where it was exactly. Was she still in the world she lived in? Or had she stepped into some other dimension? In any case, as the shattered pieces of the cup rose before her eyes and mended themselves into a whole cup again, Mirela couldn’t help but give a small sigh of relief.

"There now. Surely you realize you've more to concern yourself about than my tableware, child?"

Oh, she did. She certainly did and those concerns weighed heavily on her shoulders. Admittedly, it was kind of nice to be able to focus, even for the briefest of moments, on something so trivial.

"Do as she requests, Catherine, my dear. It wouldn't do to have our guest in a continuous state of nervous tension."

"Yes, Master Archimedes."

"Catherine tends to travel underground. Less attention that way. Though I dare say she enjoys the legends she spawns among the more unfortunate maintenance workers who are unlucky enough to spy her among the city sewers."

Mirela fidgeted in her seat, a telltale blush of color rising her in cheeks. She squeezed her hands nervously together.

“My apologies, Master Archimedes. I didn’t mean--- I’m sorry I----“

She was stuttering and stopped trying to speak for a moment, settling instead for drawing in a deep breath or two before trying again to communicate. The wizened elder before her, unnerved her. Then again, if she was honest with herself, there had been plenty people of late that unnerved her. She lifted her eyes to his ancient face.

“My apologies, Master Archimedes for even assuming I could make requests of Catherine. It’s just that… I saw.. something… something I feel Lucas needs to know right away.”

Whatever color that had stained her cheeks just moments before, quickly drained away again, leaving her countenance quite pale as she remembered what she had seen. The mischievous wink Archimedes gave her, made Mirela feel slightly better. Some of the static tension in her body dropped away, but not much.

"So tell me what you saw. That is what you wanted to speak about, yes?"

Mirela gave a small nod before she began to haltingly speak in little more than above a whisper. She stared into space just over Archimedes’ left shoulder, still wringing her hands together. Mirela sat upright in her chair, rigid with tension and fright.

“IT saw me. It knew I was listening and stared right at me as if I was in the room with them. It was chastising a Kyton. I high level Kyton if such a thing is possible. I couldn’t see IT or make out what he was. All I could see, all it would let me see, was two huge orbs. Eyes all the while it was chastising this Kyton. It called the kyton his pet. It said… “ she swallowed though her throat was dry, “ it said that he would deliver me to his pet for its own personal play toy. It said this directly to me. “

Her eyes shifted to the old man sitting before her, her eyes held undeniable fear. The tip of her tongue ran nervously over her lips.

“That’s never happened before, Master Archimedes. Never. Whomever I have seen, whatever I have witnessed, it has always been in third person. I have always been a mere observer. This time, it felt like…this thing… drew me in. Made me a part of his world, part of his conversation. How is this even possible?”

Mirela shuddered and suddenly felt cold. Fear was such a horrid thing. It could spread through a body rapidly and leave one feeling as if the cold had penetrated and sunk into every bone of the body. Those black orbs took sinister delight in telling her directly that he would give her to his pet kyton as if she could do nothing to stop it. In truth, some part of her believed that. Something had burrowed into her soul. Something nasty. Dark. Evil.

What about Lucas? This…this…monstrosity had spoken of Father Michael and other Men of the Cloth and how loathsome it found them. How it had plans or were making them to destroy Father Michael and men like him. None of it would deter Father Michael she was sure, from what she knew of the priest, that is. For a moment, she actually felt bad for the kytons. Now this thing with the black eyes? That was trouble. Who was going to come out the winner there was anyone’s guess even though Mirela believed with her whole heart that the Light, the Just, the Righteous would always win, the truth of the matter was, that wasn’t always the case. Sometimes, hatefully so, the Darkness won and it took good people down. She hoped, with a rush of sincerity, this wasn’t going to be one of those times.