Anjali tries and fails to meditate. She knows the techniques. The hotel very much approved of mentally stable staff, especially among those who have close contact with customers. Yet, this challenge she is not ready for. On the surface she is free. She could step out of the door, if she wanted to freeze to death. Gramted, she could wait for optimal weather and she might get the others to agree to give her a part of the loot. And then she would wander through unknown territory, into an unknown city and need to sell stuff without knowing the local language. Realistically that would likelier end with her in a flat grave next to a country road or in a ravine with her corpse left to vultures than founding her own household. Still, it would leave her free, one way or the other.
Ragnorök changes all that. She remembers her geography. Europe is too far north. They won’t have harvests. She’d need to get a ship out of this continent. This lair even has clocks on the walls in a few important rooms. Leaving it will be a shame, but she sees no alternative. Her time with the ring is coming up. It is time to act.
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Zewrepa stands in the falling snow. They cannot stay here for long. Looking around her convinces her that the Atlatean chose this place because its inhospitability makes uninvited visitors unlikely. For the wizard there may be a temptation in form of all the Atlantean gadgetry, as he could make food. They would run out of soap, cloth, leather and metal. Ice would form at this height soon. They need a costal town that allows for fishery and trade, for there won’t be a harvest in the forseeable future in most of Europe. Maybe they should even leave the continent.
Her companions were no cowards. She has witnessed that. But they were no trained fighters with one exception. She needs to convince humans. Just ordering them to pack up wouldn’t work. They are following her orders largely because they see it as safer, both to not anger her and because it makes sense to let a fighter have command. That won’t last if they think she’s leading them into danger for no reason. She cannot leave people who fought at her side behind without at least trying. This will be a hard task. She’d begin with the women. She needs logic.
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Anjali has to coerce the locals into brewing tea. They’d safe it for an occasion they can’t specify. Yes, they don’t have an abundance of tea. But it’d last a week even if they brewed a large pot every day. She needs them to relax and recognize her as someone who gets her will to get them to tell her about him.
„How is he? I hope he is recovering. We owe him a lot.“ Anjali is starting the conversation. „That we do. But he frightens me. He is so odd.“ answers Branislava. Anjali just lifts her eyebrows in a questioning manner. „He is meek, yet he throws around awesome powers.“ she continues her explanation, „he must be hiding something. Or, worse, he doesn’t know it himself.“ Branislava leans forward and softens her voice „He said that he does not remember his own name. And he seemed so sincere. And he was sorry. He really cared about me.“
Anjali has no more need to intentionally raise her eyebrows.
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I got dual company. I have no objection to that. Who does not like nice company? And they fought her. They have a right to be here. „It rues me that I need to aid somebody who is an enemy – I do not want to help an enemy“ I need to say it twice. „I can revert it“ offers Hildegard, leading me to first repeat her „Hildegard offers to undo the healing. If I want to kill somebody I kill him myself. If I want to kill somebody, I myself will kill him.“. Anjali asks the obvious „Why help her?“ She was not a tactician, so I need to explain it „She must live so that she be questioned – We need to learn what she knows.“
They have not bothered to tie her up. Seeing her I can understand why. She is leaking a brown fluid. Her hair has fallen out. Surprisingly the fluid doesn’t stink. She smells of disturbed forest soil. I hesitate to touch her. A fingernail seems clean. I recognise the disease. It is the fungal infection I was infected with.
I am trying to heal her. I only get a partial success. I can make symptoms vanish, but not the true cause. I just want to walk away and let her die. I am no longer ready to suffer betrayal. „Good ridance“ I mutter.
I see visions of me lieing lonely in a hospital bed. I see myself standing over a casket in an otherwise empty church. I break down on my knees and whimper. What does it want? I tried. I switch on my full vision and see a sort of decaying rope. I am ready to follow it. The world sort of turns around an axis in a direction that does not exists.