Eryl's hopeful air deflated as her words seemed to heat the coals again. She hadn't thought about how bringing up the why they were here would be taken. Worse, wouldn't they seem like they were just running off with Eleanor's daughter? Her gem-like eyes fell, then swept aside to the gunslinger next to her. Jane was as tense as she had ever seen her, it was worse than she had been after Hawaii.
The triclops pressed her fingers to the woman's shoulder, for comfort, and to distract her. Strangely, the closer she got to Jane, the further apart they felt. It was something Eryl chose not to dwell on.
"Information would be key, but it has been far over a decade since he's established himself," warned Eryl, as stern as her soft, posh voice could be. "We aren't likely facing child-killing cultists hiding from judgment. This man and his retinue will be on their own territory, and, as a leader weaponizing cult of personality, he may try to use this known history against us if Jane is a known quantity."
With a hesitant breath, she added, "We shouldn't be too hasty, or rash."
[Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Leather subtly creaked as the younger Smith forced her hands to relax. And Eryl couldn’t be sure- couldn’t be sure of anything these days, especially where Jane was concerned- but the optimistic side of her swore the gunslinger was leaning into her touch. Just a little, like she was reluctant to be seen craving aid. It was impossible to read her face either as Jane was watching her mother and gave no sign.
Seeing Jane’s companions come alive at the mention of the sorcerer brought some concern to Eleanor’s face. Jane read the silent question and answered aloud, “I told ye, mama. I been helpin people. I helped these folk a few times. Now they gon help me fix summin I thought I done fixed fore I left.”
“And then—“
“And then we’ll figure out what comes next. Ye cain’t measure the Valley from the floor.”
Eleanor barked a laugh, equal parts delight and pained nostalgia. “Don’t quote yer father at me, chil’.” She smiled wanly as she drank and considered the many questions.
“The Prophet- the sorcerer loves himself his stories. Hard to ken what folks done made up outta thin air an what say true. But I know he palavers with demons. I know he done rituals up at the cemetery— but Janey prolly knows what he done better n I.” Jane nodded grimly and indicated she should continue. “He likes fire too,” Eleanor said with a pointed look at Ruarc, “And he gotta way of makin folk do n say foolish tripe- not that most folk in Gravesbottom need much help.”
She sighed. "More n ‘at, ’s all hearsay. Changin weather; blottin the sun midday er makin like noon at midnight. Say he got nine shadows. That sometimes when he preaches, he start speakin in tongues er a hundred voices at the same time. But ye ain’t gotta hear im talk, only a mama could love a face like that— an a creature like that ain’t got a mama. Crawled up outta the sulphur n ash full growed, put my watch n warrant on it.”
Jane nodded. “His powers're contractual. I reckon it was only one Demon ten years ago but now… I wouldn’t dare guess. He likes fire, say true.” There was a flatness to her otherwise shining eyes as they recalled dark visions. “I cain’t say fer the rest, but safest ta 'sume they’re true.”
Seeing Jane’s companions come alive at the mention of the sorcerer brought some concern to Eleanor’s face. Jane read the silent question and answered aloud, “I told ye, mama. I been helpin people. I helped these folk a few times. Now they gon help me fix summin I thought I done fixed fore I left.”
“And then—“
“And then we’ll figure out what comes next. Ye cain’t measure the Valley from the floor.”
Eleanor barked a laugh, equal parts delight and pained nostalgia. “Don’t quote yer father at me, chil’.” She smiled wanly as she drank and considered the many questions.
“The Prophet- the sorcerer loves himself his stories. Hard to ken what folks done made up outta thin air an what say true. But I know he palavers with demons. I know he done rituals up at the cemetery— but Janey prolly knows what he done better n I.” Jane nodded grimly and indicated she should continue. “He likes fire too,” Eleanor said with a pointed look at Ruarc, “And he gotta way of makin folk do n say foolish tripe- not that most folk in Gravesbottom need much help.”
She sighed. "More n ‘at, ’s all hearsay. Changin weather; blottin the sun midday er makin like noon at midnight. Say he got nine shadows. That sometimes when he preaches, he start speakin in tongues er a hundred voices at the same time. But ye ain’t gotta hear im talk, only a mama could love a face like that— an a creature like that ain’t got a mama. Crawled up outta the sulphur n ash full growed, put my watch n warrant on it.”
Jane nodded. “His powers're contractual. I reckon it was only one Demon ten years ago but now… I wouldn’t dare guess. He likes fire, say true.” There was a flatness to her otherwise shining eyes as they recalled dark visions. “I cain’t say fer the rest, but safest ta 'sume they’re true.”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
An electrical tingle ran from Eryl’s palm, bouncing at her elbow, rounding her shoulder, and spiked straight down her spine. There was something reassuring about being needed, even if it were only a perception. Jane didn’t like needing anything, her nature was pure independence, as was Ruarc’s. Both were implacable, stone-faced and stubborn, like old trees digging their roots deep into the edge of a fading river bank. Lone wolves that occasionally fancied hunting in packs.
The difference between them was that Eryl loved Jane, and to feel that gentle, quiet need was enough to stoke her heart.
“Pact mages,” the three-eyed witch carried on, almost too-cheery, despite the flow of the discussion, “the most annoying breed of mage, to be sure. Their power is often bought too quickly, but those that cultivate it are especially difficult to weed. My speciality would be hunting the devils, not the types that consort with them, but there are a few sure-fire ways to disrupt such power.”
The triclops pulled her hand away from Jane to place it to her own, narrow chin. It wasn’t unheard of for Hexers to hunt humans, it wasn’t part of the code, but there were references to handle humans who had, themselves, become like the monsters they served. “The best way to disrupt a pact is to force the mage to, in a metaphorical sense, cash a check that they cannot pay. This prophet sounds like he has been an excellent garden of power for his patron, and is likely a mature investment. We will need to counter the flow of power directly, if possible.”
Eryl rubbed her temple.
“My kingdom for a priest. The most direct way to suppress something unholy is with something holy. Without a way of abusing the mage’s pact, we would need a counter. A divine warrior. Someone backed by the will of a god, deity, or some universal truth. Their mere presence would be a disturbance, and would give us the room to attack the mage’s human form. I can tune my barriers to reduce the effects of fire through them, the rest would rely on us attacking quickly. Jane’s guns. Ruarc’s lightning. If the man has the people of Gravesbottom under his thrall, the situation is liable to become very messy, very quickly. Our only measure against devil-induced popular response would likely be Laoise’s song.”
The difference between them was that Eryl loved Jane, and to feel that gentle, quiet need was enough to stoke her heart.
“Pact mages,” the three-eyed witch carried on, almost too-cheery, despite the flow of the discussion, “the most annoying breed of mage, to be sure. Their power is often bought too quickly, but those that cultivate it are especially difficult to weed. My speciality would be hunting the devils, not the types that consort with them, but there are a few sure-fire ways to disrupt such power.”
The triclops pulled her hand away from Jane to place it to her own, narrow chin. It wasn’t unheard of for Hexers to hunt humans, it wasn’t part of the code, but there were references to handle humans who had, themselves, become like the monsters they served. “The best way to disrupt a pact is to force the mage to, in a metaphorical sense, cash a check that they cannot pay. This prophet sounds like he has been an excellent garden of power for his patron, and is likely a mature investment. We will need to counter the flow of power directly, if possible.”
Eryl rubbed her temple.
“My kingdom for a priest. The most direct way to suppress something unholy is with something holy. Without a way of abusing the mage’s pact, we would need a counter. A divine warrior. Someone backed by the will of a god, deity, or some universal truth. Their mere presence would be a disturbance, and would give us the room to attack the mage’s human form. I can tune my barriers to reduce the effects of fire through them, the rest would rely on us attacking quickly. Jane’s guns. Ruarc’s lightning. If the man has the people of Gravesbottom under his thrall, the situation is liable to become very messy, very quickly. Our only measure against devil-induced popular response would likely be Laoise’s song.”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
“Well,” Laoise spoke up. “Depending on how we are going to define a god, deity, or some universal truth, I could fill that role; risking inflating Percy’s ego. I haven’t got much practice with it, but I believe I can weave some of the Elementia into my magic. If it comes to it, we can leave crowd control to me.”
“And between Jane and I, we’ve got specialty in dealing with the mages rather than the devils; so with the four of us together we seem to be fairly balanced,” Ruarc added as he considered Jane’s description and Eryl’s analysis. Placing his hand to his chin, he began to think out loud. “Nine shadows, and a hundred voices… even without his congregation we should be weary of being outnumbered. Could be that the light is revealing aspects of an illusion, and he’s got eight specters riding in the side car. They could end up becoming players themselves, or even changing the warlock’s capabilities as though he were changing hats.”
“And between Jane and I, we’ve got specialty in dealing with the mages rather than the devils; so with the four of us together we seem to be fairly balanced,” Ruarc added as he considered Jane’s description and Eryl’s analysis. Placing his hand to his chin, he began to think out loud. “Nine shadows, and a hundred voices… even without his congregation we should be weary of being outnumbered. Could be that the light is revealing aspects of an illusion, and he’s got eight specters riding in the side car. They could end up becoming players themselves, or even changing the warlock’s capabilities as though he were changing hats.”
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Jane nodded ruefully. Her shoulders sank a quarter inch. In Jane's tall and prideful body language, she might as well have been sighing at obnoxious volume. If I'd done right the first time, he wouldna snatched up so much power. But she couldn't dwell. She took a deep breath and reset herself.
"Don count the chickens fore they hatch," Eleanor continued, "but I can guarantee ye sure as my sweat in the soil, at least a dozen er two o them Gravesbottom folks will put up a fight. He's got a hardy cadre at least six strong what been doin dirty work fer im since he started makin moves. The rest, like I said, he got a way o makin folks act foolhardy."
"In other words, some folks might have nough sense to run once they see the right o things," Jane finished with another nod.
Eleanor grunted and lifted herself from the chair. "Speakin o right things, as yer host I need ta get a few things squared away. Janey-- Jane--" She sounded disgruntled by having to correct herself, "Take yer burly fren here out back n get some firewood fer the back stove. Ladies, lemme show ye to yer rooms." She gestured down the shotgun hallway toward the back.
Jane took the lead, guiding Ruarc out the back toward the barn. They were halfway across the yard before she broke the comfortable silence. "Guess ye get ta meet my Alexei."
While the rough pair exited out the back, Eleanor led Laoise and Eryl into the primary bedroom. It was simple, as one might expect, and sturdy. It was a subtle trend that gave everything on the property, including Eleanor, a sense of permanence and historicity. This house had weathered countless storms; this chair had endured hundreds of occupants; this woman had persevered through countless struggles; still, everything remained.
"Ye two can share m bed." She held up a hand before they could object. "An I won't take no fer an answer. Other beds're too small to cram two grown folks inta, an I won be known as a the woman who couldn provide fer her guests." A wave of sadness swept over her features as she said that. To distract everyone from her discomfort, she pointed to one wall. "Shares a wall with the kitchen, so the stove heats both rooms. Rooms 'cross the hall share a stove too. Jus don fuss with this one come mornin. Might spoil breakfast."
"Don count the chickens fore they hatch," Eleanor continued, "but I can guarantee ye sure as my sweat in the soil, at least a dozen er two o them Gravesbottom folks will put up a fight. He's got a hardy cadre at least six strong what been doin dirty work fer im since he started makin moves. The rest, like I said, he got a way o makin folks act foolhardy."
"In other words, some folks might have nough sense to run once they see the right o things," Jane finished with another nod.
Eleanor grunted and lifted herself from the chair. "Speakin o right things, as yer host I need ta get a few things squared away. Janey-- Jane--" She sounded disgruntled by having to correct herself, "Take yer burly fren here out back n get some firewood fer the back stove. Ladies, lemme show ye to yer rooms." She gestured down the shotgun hallway toward the back.
Jane took the lead, guiding Ruarc out the back toward the barn. They were halfway across the yard before she broke the comfortable silence. "Guess ye get ta meet my Alexei."
While the rough pair exited out the back, Eleanor led Laoise and Eryl into the primary bedroom. It was simple, as one might expect, and sturdy. It was a subtle trend that gave everything on the property, including Eleanor, a sense of permanence and historicity. This house had weathered countless storms; this chair had endured hundreds of occupants; this woman had persevered through countless struggles; still, everything remained.
"Ye two can share m bed." She held up a hand before they could object. "An I won't take no fer an answer. Other beds're too small to cram two grown folks inta, an I won be known as a the woman who couldn provide fer her guests." A wave of sadness swept over her features as she said that. To distract everyone from her discomfort, she pointed to one wall. "Shares a wall with the kitchen, so the stove heats both rooms. Rooms 'cross the hall share a stove too. Jus don fuss with this one come mornin. Might spoil breakfast."
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Well, at least it seemed they’d be able to rest up. Laoise followed dutifully along behind Eleanor, and admired the rustic glimpse of Americana. It was charming and nostalgic, and made Laoise miss Ireland. Unlike Ruarc, Laoise had only lived a couple years of her life in Ireland, and The Iron Cross at this point was little more than a childhood memory for her. Would Saoirse and Eleanor get along, the dove wondered. When they arrived at the bedroom and had their sleep arrangement announced, Laoise side-eyed Eryl. She could almost hear the triclops lamenting not being paired with Jane; on the other hand perhaps the woman was being level headed and actually grateful. After all, there’s no way Eryl’s nerves would let her actually sleep in that situation.
“It looks wonderful, ma’am,” Laoise replied warmly. “Thank you kindly for putting us up, despite dropping in so suddenly. Be sure to let us know if there is anything else we can do to help out, besides just putting Ruarc to work splitting wood.”
Out in the yard, Ruarc practically basked in the comfortable seclusion of rural Texas. That is one edge he would give Jane; Texan country was a different breed from Irish country. Matriarch Smith had said they were getting wood, but he was unsure if that meant splitting wood, or simply collecting some logs. He was hoping it was the former. Chopping some logs would help him settle down a bit more. When Jane decided to speak up it was a single simple statement, but the weight behind it said everything.
“Well, then even more than before, I mean it when I say I’ve got your back,” Ruarc said, swinging his arm to bop Jane’s shoulder with a loose fist. “We’ll set things right. You have my word.”
“Sure you’re doing alright, Jane? If this warlock is your Alexei, then do you mind if I ask if there’s more to this than what we’ve heard? Even if it doesn’t help with the coming fight, Maybe… it’ll help you to talk about it?”
“It looks wonderful, ma’am,” Laoise replied warmly. “Thank you kindly for putting us up, despite dropping in so suddenly. Be sure to let us know if there is anything else we can do to help out, besides just putting Ruarc to work splitting wood.”
Out in the yard, Ruarc practically basked in the comfortable seclusion of rural Texas. That is one edge he would give Jane; Texan country was a different breed from Irish country. Matriarch Smith had said they were getting wood, but he was unsure if that meant splitting wood, or simply collecting some logs. He was hoping it was the former. Chopping some logs would help him settle down a bit more. When Jane decided to speak up it was a single simple statement, but the weight behind it said everything.
“Well, then even more than before, I mean it when I say I’ve got your back,” Ruarc said, swinging his arm to bop Jane’s shoulder with a loose fist. “We’ll set things right. You have my word.”
“Sure you’re doing alright, Jane? If this warlock is your Alexei, then do you mind if I ask if there’s more to this than what we’ve heard? Even if it doesn’t help with the coming fight, Maybe… it’ll help you to talk about it?”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
It was surreal for Eryl to walk through this weathered, ancient home. While Jane was from this place, and Ruarc and Laoise came from a more modern style of rustic, Eryl felt like she had stepped backward in time to where she had come from. The last ten years had been a struggle with temporal dysphoria, trying to come to terms with how different everything was, and now here she was. From the finish on the walls, to the cut in the furniture, and the silence throughout, the home spoke of a simpler time that Eryl once yearned for.
Not anymore, though, central heating and air was science's greatest gift to mankind.
It was true, the triclops did lament the pairings for sleeping arrangements. There was a subtle disappointment in the tensing of her cheeks, at the loss of potential romance, brought on by fateful inconvenience. Her mind could only imagine Jane coming in from yard work, slightly sweaty, a little dirty…
Don' mind me, I'll take a spot here on th'floor, I'd hate t'crowd ye.
Nonsense, my dear archebusier, there is an abundance of room on the bed. Am I not a preferable housemate?
Nothin' farther from the truth. Just uncomfortable sharin' space.
Why do you not sit with me first? It may help, and… I think… Before we lie down, there's something I want to say.
I know.
It was at this point that Eryl's face had turned so red that she was getting light-headed. Her nerves couldn't even take the fantasy of it, much less the reality. After some steadying breaths, with a hand over her face, she rejoined the other two ladies.
"I think some work would be good for the mind," said Eryl breathlessly, avoiding Laoise's knowing eyes, "besides growing up in a home like this; I worked as a maid for a Russian forest revenant for a year, I am quite capable, despite my looks."
Not anymore, though, central heating and air was science's greatest gift to mankind.
It was true, the triclops did lament the pairings for sleeping arrangements. There was a subtle disappointment in the tensing of her cheeks, at the loss of potential romance, brought on by fateful inconvenience. Her mind could only imagine Jane coming in from yard work, slightly sweaty, a little dirty…
Don' mind me, I'll take a spot here on th'floor, I'd hate t'crowd ye.
Nonsense, my dear archebusier, there is an abundance of room on the bed. Am I not a preferable housemate?
Nothin' farther from the truth. Just uncomfortable sharin' space.
Why do you not sit with me first? It may help, and… I think… Before we lie down, there's something I want to say.
I know.
It was at this point that Eryl's face had turned so red that she was getting light-headed. Her nerves couldn't even take the fantasy of it, much less the reality. After some steadying breaths, with a hand over her face, she rejoined the other two ladies.
"I think some work would be good for the mind," said Eryl breathlessly, avoiding Laoise's knowing eyes, "besides growing up in a home like this; I worked as a maid for a Russian forest revenant for a year, I am quite capable, despite my looks."
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
In the House
Eleanor smiled, gladdened by the successful exchange of customary remarks. "Ain' no thang, ladies. But since yer offerin and since tis on such short notice, I ain't zackly prepared to feed a full house. Get yer things settled, take a moment. If ye need a reprieve, outhouse is out the back door, and hard on yer left. I'll be in the kitchen when yer nice n ready." She departed and closed the door behind her to offer them a modicum of privacy.
In the kitchen, the Smith matriarch's heart whorled with nostalgia and loss, joy and old aches in equal measure.
In the Barnyard
Ruarc's wishes were granted. As they came around the side of the barn, they came to a wide, scarred, and ancient stump. There were a few splits already piled. There was a much greater pile of logs still in need of splitting. Jane pulled a log from this second pile, pulled the ax from the stump's formidable head, and swung without prelude.
CRACK!
"Your turn."
Already, the warmer climes were becoming self-evident, and Jane shrugged out of her duster. Sleeves were rolled. Gloves were removed. All the while, Ruarc was squaring up and Jane was reluctantly speaking.
"The sorcerer rolled inta town when I was maybe ten. He was jus a preacher to us then. He was subtle. Didn start makin a scene til he'd already set roots. By the time anyone knew jus how wrong he was, he'd already enlisted a whole gang. Not really a gang, they were jus folks-- mosly Gravesbottom folks, but a few farmers, an a few others from Redfern too.
"First time we heard rumors bout a demon, we all figured it was drunks er kids cryin wolf." She reclaimed the ax and took her turn in silence, save for sounds of exertion.
Eleanor smiled, gladdened by the successful exchange of customary remarks. "Ain' no thang, ladies. But since yer offerin and since tis on such short notice, I ain't zackly prepared to feed a full house. Get yer things settled, take a moment. If ye need a reprieve, outhouse is out the back door, and hard on yer left. I'll be in the kitchen when yer nice n ready." She departed and closed the door behind her to offer them a modicum of privacy.
In the kitchen, the Smith matriarch's heart whorled with nostalgia and loss, joy and old aches in equal measure.
In the Barnyard
Ruarc's wishes were granted. As they came around the side of the barn, they came to a wide, scarred, and ancient stump. There were a few splits already piled. There was a much greater pile of logs still in need of splitting. Jane pulled a log from this second pile, pulled the ax from the stump's formidable head, and swung without prelude.
CRACK!
"Your turn."
Already, the warmer climes were becoming self-evident, and Jane shrugged out of her duster. Sleeves were rolled. Gloves were removed. All the while, Ruarc was squaring up and Jane was reluctantly speaking.
"The sorcerer rolled inta town when I was maybe ten. He was jus a preacher to us then. He was subtle. Didn start makin a scene til he'd already set roots. By the time anyone knew jus how wrong he was, he'd already enlisted a whole gang. Not really a gang, they were jus folks-- mosly Gravesbottom folks, but a few farmers, an a few others from Redfern too.
"First time we heard rumors bout a demon, we all figured it was drunks er kids cryin wolf." She reclaimed the ax and took her turn in silence, save for sounds of exertion.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
With a coy smile sitting light upon her face, Laoise set about taking stock of her and Ruarc’s provisions. The bug-out bags had been a contingency Ruarc had decided to employ a couple years ago, just in case he needed to worry about rapid response. Between his bag and her own they had a selection of runes, a couple days worth of survival meals, a couple hundred dollars divided between US, UK, EU, Russian, and Japanese currencies, a compass, a map of major ley lines, a compact fishing kit, fifty feet of paracord, metal wire, duct tape, a survival ax, and a first aid kit. On top of that, Laoise had three sets of spare clothing, while Ruarc had only packed a backup shirt, a backup pair of boxers, and a lot of socks.
”Ruarc,” Laoise began, the look on her face shifting to mild irritation. ”Is this really all you packed for clothes?”
”Yeah, why?” Ruarc asked back around the time he first took a turn splitting. ”It’s what I need in case one set gets wet. Wear the other while drying the first.”
”No duh, but you’re about to chop wood and get sweaty out in the heat.”
Back outside, Ruarc chopped his log in one smooth swing. Turning back to the barn, Ruarc huffed a bit and decided he’d rather not have Laoise hounding him about his clothes. As he listened to Jane he removed his flannel and tshirt; draping them over a post. He returned in time for his next go with the ax. Once he’d set up a new log he gripped the haft of the ax in calloused hands. His range of scars were in full view as he hefted the tool. An array built from his knicks, scrapes, cuts, and burns from work; and then more pronounced scars earned over his fifteen years as a Keeper. The freshest of which were from the last foray into the Elementia. The full spread of shrapnel scars over his upper torso and right shoulder from where he was peppered by Aurus’ exploding armor, and a well defined stab scar on his chest and its matching scar on his back where Akanus had impaled him. That one outing had given him a lot of new ones, but a couple were courtesy of Alexei, and the current conversation made them ache.
“The worst corruptions remain hidden until the cure is no longer simple.”
CRACK! The wood tumbled to either side. He handed the ax back.
“It’s actually the type of business that my Circle was made to counter. Though there are many who feel we aren’t needed anymore; that that kind of dark magic can’t happen in our modern world. Goes to show how good these types are at making sure they’re unnoticed.”
”Ruarc,” Laoise began, the look on her face shifting to mild irritation. ”Is this really all you packed for clothes?”
”Yeah, why?” Ruarc asked back around the time he first took a turn splitting. ”It’s what I need in case one set gets wet. Wear the other while drying the first.”
”No duh, but you’re about to chop wood and get sweaty out in the heat.”
Back outside, Ruarc chopped his log in one smooth swing. Turning back to the barn, Ruarc huffed a bit and decided he’d rather not have Laoise hounding him about his clothes. As he listened to Jane he removed his flannel and tshirt; draping them over a post. He returned in time for his next go with the ax. Once he’d set up a new log he gripped the haft of the ax in calloused hands. His range of scars were in full view as he hefted the tool. An array built from his knicks, scrapes, cuts, and burns from work; and then more pronounced scars earned over his fifteen years as a Keeper. The freshest of which were from the last foray into the Elementia. The full spread of shrapnel scars over his upper torso and right shoulder from where he was peppered by Aurus’ exploding armor, and a well defined stab scar on his chest and its matching scar on his back where Akanus had impaled him. That one outing had given him a lot of new ones, but a couple were courtesy of Alexei, and the current conversation made them ache.
“The worst corruptions remain hidden until the cure is no longer simple.”
CRACK! The wood tumbled to either side. He handed the ax back.
“It’s actually the type of business that my Circle was made to counter. Though there are many who feel we aren’t needed anymore; that that kind of dark magic can’t happen in our modern world. Goes to show how good these types are at making sure they’re unnoticed.”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Seeing the collection of things arrayed on the pillow brought Eryl back to the moment. While Laoise and Ruarc had been prepared to vacate, Eryl had only prepared for the day. All she had were the clothes on her back, money she couldn't use out here, and an almost professional sense of being out of place. Not wanting to waste too much magic, she set her staff aside, and set her coat on a dresser. This left her to walk around in her fine, sleeveless shirt and waistcoat.
With that arranged, she merely stood to one side, her fingers fiddling with the frills at her shoulder. Eryl had never spoken to Laoise before, except to mistakenly organize a Karaoke party.
This is it, Eryl, this is where you can begin your redemption.
The triclops opened her mouth to speak, and she found herself painfully stricken.
Just say you're sorry.
It was the day of the Maw incident all over again, like when she went to confront Percival. She had talked about working up her courage with Skarnir, but it had never worked out.
Just apologize for all the suffering you caused.
Her hands were starting to shake, she could feel the words in her chest.
Say you're sorry for sending them on that suicide mission.
It was right there. She just needed to open her mouth.
You got her killed. You caused her druid to walk around with a fractured soul for a decade. You've been nothing but a source of pain.
Whatever she was going to say fell out in the form of a whimper.
”Ki-...Kitchen," managed Eryl, after all that, and quietly tugged the door open to extricate herself.
With that arranged, she merely stood to one side, her fingers fiddling with the frills at her shoulder. Eryl had never spoken to Laoise before, except to mistakenly organize a Karaoke party.
This is it, Eryl, this is where you can begin your redemption.
The triclops opened her mouth to speak, and she found herself painfully stricken.
Just say you're sorry.
It was the day of the Maw incident all over again, like when she went to confront Percival. She had talked about working up her courage with Skarnir, but it had never worked out.
Just apologize for all the suffering you caused.
Her hands were starting to shake, she could feel the words in her chest.
Say you're sorry for sending them on that suicide mission.
It was right there. She just needed to open her mouth.
You got her killed. You caused her druid to walk around with a fractured soul for a decade. You've been nothing but a source of pain.
Whatever she was going to say fell out in the form of a whimper.
”Ki-...Kitchen," managed Eryl, after all that, and quietly tugged the door open to extricate herself.