Battlemage Ranclyffe's experimentation level was little more than a re-purposed root cellar, compared to his daughter's obsessively organized study. While he was, as an educated of the War Wizard's college, much more privileged and provided for than the court mage of Urmlaspyr could ever hope to be, the state in which the study could perpetually be found would earn one of her deeper scowls. Scrolls and journals lay all over the well crafted wooden table behind which he leaned in his chair. Unfinished potions and open, ruined tinctures were scattered on the floor, with notes scrawled in charcoal or chalk next to them on the walls, or on the floor itself. Aleksei stood, still bound hand and foot with pulsating blue magic, in one of the few places bare of an experiment gone awry or a note scratched onto the surface. Before him on the table, flanked by piles of papers and books that had been cleared to accommodate them, were two swords- one brutally crafted longsword and one elegantly tempered rapier. For a combined total of more than ten hours, he had remained completely still, with his eyes closed and his head bowed, speaking only one word.
"Nyet."
Pushed to frustration, Terezio finally took his glasses off his face and pulled his hand over his thick grey hair.
"You do realize, of course, that if you do not permit me to get on with this research peaceably, I will be forced to compel you with violence?" he finally groaned as he sat up in his chair. "Look, I don't like having them here any more than you do. Don't you want to just get this over with?"
Aleksei said nothing.
Since Mi'ishaen and Silveredge had been put out the evening before, he had been peacefully non-compliant. Bahlzair actively thwarted Eunice's attempts to treat his swollen, discolored ankle with spells that ranged from the annoying to the downright harmful, but Aleksei stood patiently throughout the scale and claw shaving, the trimming of a bit of hair, the blood, urine, skin and spit sampling. The most he'd had to move was to withdraw to a quiet room to fulfill what seemed- to him- the very strange request for semen, and after a few moment's thought, he had done so without remark. He watched as the mage put all the samples in their various testing vessels without a word, but Terezio knew that the more intensive trials- the ones intended to divine his true moral and lawful alignment- would be much tougher to complete. Having already foreseen a few brief flashes of the Dragonborn's denials, the divination master longed to simply pry his way into the scaly soul. Gentle questioning won Terezio vague, confusing answers- not all of them in Common. More persistent questioning won him single-word answers, then finally, an almost complete mental shutdown. Terezio wondered at this, since Aleksei entered what seemed to him to be a waking sleep state- something he'd never seen a non-Drow soldier do before.
So Terezio sent for the swords in the middle of the afternoon, and they were delivered to him by two very careful students of the College of War Wizards by early evening. Their presence in the house chilled Eunice to the bone immediately, and she'd poked her head down to ask if her teacher had been somehow forced to practice necromancy. The apprentice was sent off with a good tongue lashing, and nearly scampered away like a scared rabbit. An hour later, Druce sent a visibly disturbed Eunice down a second time to complain that a foul, persistent breeze blew through the house, even though all the windows were well bound and shuttered. It wasn't a casual puff kissed by the smell of water, as the waterside was accustomed to, but instead a miserable pushing of heavy air that reminded the old seamstress of her father's feverish, dying breaths. The description struck Terezio to the core, and Eunice won herself an even stronger verbal whipping. She didn't even wait to be sent away, dismissing herself from her master's presence without another word.
"Not a single one of these tests points to illness," the Human said quietly, standing behind his desk in the attempt to look the taller Dragonborn in the eye after the door shut behind Eunice. "I therefore have three options. I must either believe that my- that Master Ranclyffe, rather- lied when she sent you to me, that my testing is insufficient, or that there is an illness present in you that affects mind and soul so deeply that drastic measures should be taken. This is my penultimate attempt to divine between option one and option three. I advise you- no- I implore you, ser, to work with me; I have no intention other than your aid."
There was a silence during which Terezio sensed a strange change in the Dragonborn's spirit- as though he were invoking a spell on himself. It troubled him deeply- nowhere in Trizelle's note did she say that the fighter before him was capable of magic.
Finally, Aleksei replied simply, "I do not believe this."
Terezio pushed away from his desk, turning his back to the Dragonborn for a few moments. His robes swirled around him, but quickly laid silent at his sides as he moved around the desk. He expertly navigated the piles of things around the place, circling Aleksei three times before deciding to speak again.
"You cast some sort of spell on yourself just now- what was it?"
"I am remembering," the Dragonborn said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself.
Terezio stopped circling Aleksei and looked up into his face. "Remembering. Remembering what? Answer me! I swear to you, by every god, by every plane of existence, I will complete my work."
"That I believe," Aleksei admitted. "Gospozha Ranclyffe says you push much to happen."
"She should mend her own ways before looking down that narrow nose at mine," Terezio snorted. "She has always been self-centered and stiff-necked; she may clean her room these days, but I don't expect that sour, stubborn attitude to have changed one bit."
"From father comes daughter," Aleksei sighed.
Terezio noticed that what few words Aleksei had were coming more slowly, as though the language were growing increasingly difficult for him to manage. He was just going to pursue this realization when Eunice peeked through the door to the study for the third time.
"My lord, the Drow-" she began carefully, not daring to come all the way through the doorway before speaking.
"Oh, for gods' sakes, just lock him in the room," Terezio commanded, tossing a frustrated glower over his shoulder at her.
"I can't get near the door; he sends acid arrows nearly down the hall after me," Eunice retorted, now frustrated herself. "And it looks like he ripped down a curtain to splint his ankle himself, anyhow."
"Lock him in the room, Eunice, now," Terezio urged, turning his head back over his shoulder. "If you can think of nothing else to pacify him, take a scroll out of my library and use that."
"Te, kto molod, slab ili glupo," Aleksei muttered. "Zashhitite sebja bez razrushenija. Zashhiti drugih bez gospodstva."
Terezio raised his right hand over his shoulder and flicked it backward to shoo Eunice away from the door, and the young woman stormed away like a much younger child.
"You, ser, are a fraud," the mage pressed the second that the door had closed. "A fake. And this test proves it. You speak virtuously enough, with your eyes closed and your head bowed, but you cannot put your hands to these weapons because if you did- the very moment you did- you would become a monster."
There came a soft puffing sound from Aleksei, somewhere between a snort and a genuine chuckle.
"Tell me it isn't true, then. Show me it's not true. You cannot, with the way you look, tell me that you've never seen a weapon before. I am not asking you to do anything with them. I'm asking you to pick them up and hold them- that's all. And if you will not do it, then it will be as good to me as if you had run me through." Terezio crossed his arms and stood close enough to the Dragonborn to feel the slight chill of his breath. "Oh, so you're getting angry? Excellent; let me help you. As thick as your scales are, as powerful as your body is, and as strong as your will is, I will reduce you to a wailing babe. I will crack that will of yours. I will prove you for the shameful pretender you are; I will drag your past up and out of your mouth piece by bloody piece. I-"
"Ser Aleksei!" Druce called brightly from the hallway. Moments later, she appeared in the doorway, holding the three-quarters filled bottle of frenzywater that had been Aleksei's gift from Urmlaspyr. "Good news! Blade Rafa's stopped vomiting at last, sits up on his own, and is well enough to beg your condition, as he fears you must be suffering worse than-"
"Drussandra!" Terezio growled, clenching his fists in frustration as he turned around. "You know you're not to come down here!"
Druce paused, greatly surprised by her husband's reaction, and in seconds, her pause gave way to concern. "What are you doing? Why are there swords in here? What precisely are you doing to this poor creature?"
"What message had you, other than Rafa's question, which you can see is irrelevant?" Terezio frowned, regretting his temper.
"I don't know if it is," Druce shot back, bristling. "I know you know what this is- probably better than I do, for all that. Rafa said he had but five little spots of it, but the you see where the level of the liquor is. I'd like to know where Ser Aleksei learned to drink so hard, and why."
Terezio lifted his head sharply, then bowed it again as if in submission to Druce's sense. "Right," he said brusquely as he turned back to Aleksei. "Can you at least answer the woman, so that her mother's heart can beat more quietly in her chest when she returns upstairs as she ought?"
Aleksei sighed, then lifted his head slowly, opening his eyes with noticeable effort.
"By the gods, it's perhaps another day's drunk on him- mayhap he won't vomit until tomorrow, and then what mess will I have?" Concerned, put the bottle down on the edge of Terezio's desk and began to move toward him. "Dear boy, you mustn't-"
"Stay back- and keep that away from him," Terezio warned. "This is no one's little boy. He's a more dangerous creature than he would like you to know."
"He's only as dangerous as you make him," Druce counseled quietly, still moving forward. "You don't see that?"
"He won't let me," Terezio sighed, moving back toward Druce in the effort to prevent her from walking all the way up to the Dragonborn. "Perhaps... I should try a gentler tack. But I still doubt your legal and moral standing, and until you prove-"
"What? Why?" Druce asked suddenly. "That's usually the first test anyone down here passes."
"Well, now you see my dilemma, Druce," Terezio said quietly, turning his head slightly toward her. "He refuses to allow me to complete it."
"Refuses?" Druce mused, thinking. "What if I-"
As soon as she reached out her hand in the direction of the swords, both males in the room responded. Terezio grabbed her hand, being near enough to have physical effect, but Aleksei went a step further.
"Please not to touch!" he said at once. "These are- not good."
"So you won't let me at them? Fair enough, there's at least a sort of conscience in you, never mind how damaged it may be. But I'll only do it again," Druce smiled flicking sharp eyes up toward Aleksei. "Not today. Later. Perhaps a week from now. Sometime when neither of you are about to prevent me."
"What nonsense, Druce; you're too old to be-"
"But I want to know. I want to know why this house has smelled like death since three this afternoon. Why can't I hold it in my hands and understand it?"
Terezio took his wife by the shoulders and nearly shook her. "That's ridiculous! Why should you take an interest in them now, when they've been on display in the college for years? You've never so much as asked why they were placed under wards and constant watch in there!"
"Yes, well they weren't in my house, stinking like an open grave," Druce countered, crossing her arms. "Never before has alcohol crossed my threshold. Never before have I played nursemaid behind your abominably awkward apprentice, bless and save her soul, who can't manage to set an ankle without infuriating an already-testy charge. But today, I have a bottle of frenzywater, a malicious Drow, a hungover Purple Dragon, a still-drunk Dragonborn and a pair of mysteriously enchanted swords in my house, where I live. Where I sleep, Terezio, and it is night, now. I have to sleep here. So I would like to know what in the bloody Hells these are, and that none of the creatures that probably know how to wield them will do so."
Terezio pursed his lips, fighting against a strange urge to throw his wife backward toward a wall. "Look, Druce, I don't know what-"
"This one is being made by orcs," Aleksei responded quietly, referring to the rough sword. "This I am knowing from fighting a few of them, not many years ago. Many of their swords are looking like this. But it is different, because it hungers. It must taste blood, once each day. It is not doing this for many years, and so it is ravenous. It does not know or care whose blood it is. If you are putting your hand to it, maybe you might even run yourself through, only so that it can feed. It has no reason, but it is very strong."
"And it's in my house-" Druce gasped, her hands going slowly to her face.
"This other is made by Elves- it is made to look like surface Elves, but it is Drow. This sword does not only cry for blood. It craves the lives of the good, and with time, it will convince the person to take these lives only, bringing the person down into evil. It has a soul of its own, and speaks with reason, not only hunger."
By the time Aleksei stopped speaking, Terezio noted that Druce had begun to tremble.
"Don't ask; I don't know what it is," she whispered, noting her husband's look. "I'm not cold. But- a fear- as instinctual as grabbing on to whatever floats in a storm- bites me deep."
"You are a soldier- or you were, once. It doesn't shock me that you know the make of these swords, but- their nature- I ask you again, what spell-"
"It is no spell," Aleksei stated strongly. "They speak to me as they speak to Bahlzair and to Rafa. I am awake; I make myself awake, but they lull me to sleep again, to obey them and take your life for them. You are diviner. You are knowing this all the time- why are you bringing danger into your house again?"
"Oh, gods, get them out, Rezi, get them out, I beg you!" Druce cried. "The whole house reeks of-"
" 'Again,' you say?" Terezio countered, insulted. "What do you mean by that?"
Aleksei shook his head, then got down to one knee.
"You dare call me weak or foolish?" the mage thundered, flying into an uncharacteristic rage at once.
"Rezi, look! Does that look like an attacker?" Druce screamed. "These things- they've gotten you- get them out of here!"
"What I hear is this Dragonborn presuming to tell me that I cannot protect you- from what? From him? He's already in shackles- magic shackles, I thank you to remember," Terezio scoffed, walking directly up to Aleksei again. "What will you do to me, much less to my wife?"
"Please to leave from here," Aleksei breathed, not daring to look up at the frantic old woman.
"If you dare to lift a finger to this woman, I swear to you by every holy implement-" Terezio began, a low, ethereal voice powering his words.
"Terezio Reginald Ranclyffe, you stop it!" Druce grabbed up the Drow rapier, slicing herself on the Orcish blade in the process. "Here! I've touched it now! Here it is! What could this prove to anyone about anything?"
"Drussandra!" Terezio cried at once, sensing the Orcish blade's appeasement. When he turned around and spied the dark Elven blade in his wife's hands, he rushed to her. "Oh gods, you can't drop it now, woman, why would you-"
Aleksei breathed as much air out of his lungs as he could, concentrating. "Zashhitite sebja bez razrushenija. Zashhiti drugih bez gospodstva. Atakovat' vragov s radost'ju, a ne so zlym umyslom. Bud'te akkuratny, tak chto vam ne nuzhno byt' tochnym."
Just as Terezio was realizing that Aleksei was reciting a sort of prayer or chant, not a spell, the Dragonborn stood and pushed himself between the mage and his wife. Using both hands to grab the weapon, he pinned Druce's fingers against the hilt, eliciting a piercing scream from her.
"I am stronger," he growled savagely. "Leave her, and I will give you a good death."
The sword trembled in Drussandra's hands, sending gangrene-like tendrils of green and grey up her arms.
"Oh gods- gods!" the elder woman screamed. "It hurts, get it away from me!"
"My blood ran for Etiol," Aleksei said firmly, pressing the woman's fingers until he could feel the bones in them. "I am hunter; she is only prey."
The sword stopped wavering, pushing its way from Druce's fingers to Aleksei's. Immediately, the skin below the scale on both arms was flooded with the sickly green and grey cast, accompanied by a heart-stopping pain that the Dragonborn could only sustain with a clenched jaw and a deep groan. Terezio, realizing what had just taken place, snapped his fingers, sending a thundering pulse of magic that knocked Druce to the floor. Aleksei staggered two steps, but kept his balance. The sword, itself stunned, released its hold on the Dragonborn, clattering to the floor like any common weapon. The skin beneath the scale returned to its natural, pale hue, but Aleksei still felt the ringing ache in his chest.
"Etiol was a consort of Tiamat, as I remember," Terezio began very quietly, stooping to check on his wife. "Not a particularly nice character."
"Always he and all that follow him will be evil."
"The sword believed you- chose you over my wife, gods be thanked. Further, my talents are considerable, yet it took much more effort for me to sense that- soul burn than it should have, even in this strange, incomplete state... you're burying it. With someone else's mantras. Whose?"
Aleksei turned away from the sight of Druce's slightly puffy hand. "If you are knowing of Etiol, perhaps you are also knowing of Master Kwai."
"Someone in the Lightning Dragon Dojo might- I shall have to send word back to Marsember, have someone ask around. What have you to do with this master?"
Aleksei shook his head- a tiny movement that hardly moved the air around him. "If you find him, let him tell you."
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