Somewhere on Issria river, eleventh day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.
“Have mercy. End this.”
After five days of silence at times laced with violent screams, his guest gave up. Her dead eyes did not even bother to look his way. He succeeded in breaking her mind, yet he was no closer to knowing who or what his guest might me.
“Then will you speak with me?”
Nothing. Not even a curse aimed at him. Not a whimper. Farrow over his immobile guest and watch tears drip out of her eyes.
“I find no pleasure in your predicament. Answer my questions and depending on what you tell me, I will release you.”
For the first time since yesterday, she looked his way. Her gaze spoke one single thing before she averted her eyes. Kill me.
“I am Alarian Farrow. Until recently, Master alchemist in the service of Eternal Empress. I have seen one thousand seven hundred fifty-four winters. I ensure you, if I wished death or suffering upon you, I know of much more efficient ways to bring them. Your current predicament is but a result of your own stubbornness.”
“You, you cannot be him.”
Life once more glittered in her eyes.
“But I am. Your own life a testament of quality of my craft. Now, are you willing to speak with me since you know who I am?”
A fierce battle must have played out in her mind as the time it took for her to speak again stretched over several minutes.
“I am Varea, first before my people. If you indeed are who you claim to be, unhand me then we shall speak as equal.”
As equal. That smacked him, rousing pain he though he left so many winters ago.
“Fear. You reek of fear human. You hold me like beast in a slaughterhouse and you fear? What do you fear human?”
“Fear? Once already I have let loose a monster upon this land. I do not seek to repeat it.”
“I am no monster.”
She smiled, making a display of her splendid fangs.
“Perhaps you are not but I have a bad history trusting maidens with a charming smile. Although, I’m open for negotiation. As much as I don’t like doing so since it is a barbaric practice, we may exchange your restrains for a curse that shall guarantee my safety.”
Farrow put his palm on her bare chest, just atop her heart.
“If your words convince me, I shall return you to the port of your choosing. If not… leave this boat without my permission and your heart shall stop.”
“And I will kill you human if you once more try to touch me with your rotten hands.”
She seethed through her fangs.
“Fair enough. So, do I have your permission to put a geas on you? It will fade away once we decide to go our separate ways. There will be no other offers.”
“…Yes.”
Farrow let the spell he weaved sink into her chest. She gasped when it wound itself around her heart.
“I’ve cut the straps that held your limbs. In an hour or so, your body should rid itself of the toxin I used to numb your muscles. Try to sleep it off if you can. When you’re ready, there’s clean water in that basin and some cloths that may fit you in that chest. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. Go left after you exit this cabin.”
He unhooked the keys to her restraints from his belt and put them in her paralyzed hand.
“Since you so despise my handling of your body, you will have to deal with the chain with your own hands.”
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Her stare told him there will be no thanks for that gesture.
“One more thing, that curse will kill you regardless of whether I’m dead or alive. If you want off this boat, be sure to follow our agreement.”
Somewhere on Issria river, twelfth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.
Farrow meditated most of the night to speed up his recovery. That simple curse took a lot out of him. The sad reality of being a dud of a magician. His guest on the other hand did not rush to leave her quarters.
Whether she made that a conscious choice or had her body forced her to rest, she slept through the night, and he made no attempts to disturb her. However, when the morning came, he found himself face to face with his guest. The recovery speed of her kind once more a surprise. Yesterday she could not move a muscle, today she walked without any difficulty. Her groomed hair showed she took particular care of herself before facing him.
A set of short swords hanged by the entrance, just withing her reach. Greedily her hands closed around the nearest blade. Then she froze awaiting his reaction. Alarian used that moment to study her.
She had combed her golden curls into a simple yet neat ponytail while her ruby red eyes darted between him and the sword she clutched in her palm. Her full, pink lips slightly parted to reveal her inhuman fangs. Other than that, her pale, almost ashen face showed not emotions.
She chose to wear one of his cotton shirts. As tall as her frame was, it still looked more akin to a dress on her supple body. Although, that was the only thing she wore. Beneath her neck, smokey grey fur dotted with black spots covered her body.
“Does your kind drink coffee? I made some.”
The man made no attempts to stop her from seizing his weapons. Rather, he cast her a curious look then turned his back to her and continued stirring the sizzling food. A perfect opening. One single cut and his head would roll.
Yet, Varea did not move an inch from where she stood. She could not sense an ounce of fear from this man. Such a stark contrast from the day before. Was there something more to the magic that now bound her heart?
She unsheathed the sword and aimed it at his back. It would be over in one quick thrust.
“You may keep the swords if it brings you any comfort, however, please do hold the blade inside its scabbard as this boat may turn without any prior notice. Sudden loss of footing is bad enough without a weapon drawn. You may harm someone.”
Farrow extinguished the magical flame and with a hot skillet in his hands, he turned and faced his guest. She held the blade an inch off his chest.
“You’re hesitating. A point for your kin. Contrary to a human you do appear to consider what kind of ramification your actions may bring.”
He sidestepped her and went to a table mounted onto the kitchen wall where two plates already waited, illuminated by a reddish hue spilling inside through an open porthole set above the table.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You must eat, drink and rest.”
“Are all humans this insane or have your age brought you madness?”
Perhaps we are. The alchemist mused in silence, dividing meat between two plates. He took a wild guess she might lean towards the carnivorous diet.
“An observation difficult to challenge. Yes, there are plenty of people that gone loopy in one way or another. I cannot deny that but neither I will condemn my entire species. To answer you, people are like grains of sand. Similar from afar but when observed up close, each is different from another.”
He finished serving their meal and returned the cast iron skillet back to the magical stove.
“Flapping that toothpick about is unnecessary. I gave you my word. I shall do you no harm as long as you choose to behave.”
His tone did not fit the threat he made. She expected anger yet to her ears her his voice felt tired. Resigned.
“If coffee is not up to your taste, we also have tea, water and wine. If neither of those are to your liking, I also have some rum. Although, in your state I’d discourage you from drinking any alcohol.”
Alarian offered then sat himself at the table and since she made no attempt to join him, he stabbed his steak with a silver fork. The prongs sunk in deep, making the meat squirt out its juices. Some drops hit his robe, some even landed on his face.
Varea watched the mage. Bit by bit he put chunks of fragrant meat in his mouth. Her arm holding the sword dropped to her side. To eat right in front of other. To share your pray with another. That… Foolish. She should not apply the way of her people to this man.
Pain gripped her insides. Squeezed her middle in an iron vice while thick long drool escaped the corner of her mouth. A sight so unbecoming of her lineage.
Yet the man did not seem to care.
Defeated, she sat across him, the sword resting on her lap. Her hunger tormented but all she could do was stare at the meat waiting before her. They have tricked her once already.
“There is no poison in your food. It’s just meat, salt and herbs your body already consumed in the potions I gave you. Eat.”
The mage appeared to have read her mind. He even went as far as to take a bite out of her portion to demonstrate his point. Since she made no move still, he pushed both plates towards her.
“You can eat min if you don’t believe me.”
To offer one’s own food… If only his kind could be judged by the same customs, she expected her people to follow.
She grabbed the silver knife from the prepared cutlery and randomly chopped away a piece of meat from her plate. She stabbed it and brough to her nose. Its scent told her nothing aside how tasty this chunk could be in her mouth. Restraining herself with highest difficulty, she extended her arm offering that portion to her captor. He took and ate it.
“Satisfied?”
He even showed her his empty mouth.
The eat without fear the food offered… She should not be thinking about that.
Farrow observed his guest with growing curiosity. At long last he managed to convince her to eat but, he could not name it yet he could tell something in her changed.
“Ask your questions, human.”
She spoke, savoring each bite she took.