I didn't roll up the scroll hurriedly or look up from it too quickly, even though I had the incredible urge to do both. I stared at it, just as I had before I could understand it, and reopened the others as well, to stare at them all together.
One spoke of a spell that would give a relatively direct answer to one question. Another listed the components of said spell, and the other listed the various lotions and potions that Bahlzair had on hand. Then there was his note.
"You're very pensive all of a sudden," Ylyssa noted, turning her head to focus on me. I didn't look up to meet her gaze right away, concerned that if I did so, whatever blessing that was allowing me to decipher these encoded scratches on the scrolls would vanish. Fortunately, she did not attempt to communicate again, but lapsed into complete silence.
I stared at the scrolls until I was positive that I had memorized every word. The potion's effect didn't wear off for a while, but I tried to make the most of the opportunity. This character stands for this sound, this squiggly line means this number. I leaned against the wall, finding my back muscles tense and sore, and must have fallen asleep that way.
When I awoke, it was because Ylyssa had accidentally bumped me while attempting to read the scrolls herself.
"I thought you said your culture did not abide overly intelligent women," she smiled, putting a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't Infernal at all. It looks more akin to what I have glimpsed of Guttural."
I hummed quietly, unable to make any other comments on the subject. Not only was I unable to read my own native Infernal, I had absolutely no idea what Guttural was at all.
"Yes, ye gods, it even looks horrible. Worse even than written Drow-drivel-"
"Drow-drivel?" I asked, closing the scrolls slowly. "Aren't you in charge of knowing about and relating to other cultures? How is it that you respect Bahlzair's talent and hate his race at the same time?"
"Undercommon, then. That looks more hideous than Undercommon, and why should you be offended at what I call Drow writing? The wretch can neither read nor write, of course. They don't allow their menfolk to learn such arts; it's amazing that he's such a talented alchemist."
I uttered a grunt, my mind briefly racing. "If it is so offensive to your eyes, look away," I began, fastening the scrolls with their worn strings.
Ylyssa fixed me with the clear eyes of a female much her junior, genuinely on fire with the desire to know what she had truly seen. "Is it truly the language that your forefathers spoke to Asmodeus? Is it how they communicated with the demons that lay with them in their beds? How did they come up with a brand new language, just like that?"
"You understand that I can't answer any of that!" I spat, crossing my arms. She blinked, in an instant returning to the embittered married woman that I'd first known on an open hillside. "Mistress of languages you may be, but not all knowledge is meant to be shared."
For a few moments, I thought that there would be a grand showdown between the two of us. Her face darkened, eyes flashing with indignation.
"I can't teach it. I physically can't," I said calmly, reaching out and fearlessly putting a hand to her puffed cheek. "It's only able to be read when the demons give leave in the first place. When any one of them decides that it should no longer be understood, then poof, the comprehension flees my mind so completely, it's as though it were never there."
Ylyssa's rage checked itself for a moment, registering as a tiny, barely-audible, "Oh," after which she bit her lips. "I was simply shown it once. That cleric- and then he- did-"
"Yes," I pounced, capitalizing on the chance. "We really cannot speak of this. It's just not done. I don't want to die- not like- that."
In all reality, I had no idea what "that" was, but I didn't have to. The wistful, charged look in Ylyssa's eyes was enough.
"He was trying to escape," she whispered. I wasn't sure whom she was trying to hide the information from, but figured it would be best to let her spit it out. "He had no horns, no tail, no hooves. He had joined an order. Prayed all the time. Begged Bahlzair to help him make incense- that was the first time I'd ever heard the dark Elf laugh."
I tried to imagine that perpetual scowl allowing a laugh to emerge, and found that I couldn't. I'd be disturbed by hearing such a sound emitting from Bahlzair myself.
"He did not even believe he was a Tiefling. Uirrigan called him a 'prototiefling,' possibly to calm him. He kept quiet in his quarters, saying prayer after prayer. But in the end, however he struggled, it was as though he were a man possessed. He would shield his eyes, lest he even saw a weapon. He told Uirrigan, over and over, 'I am a Human,' but it just wasn't true. Once, I walked by his quarters, and-"
She looked around herself briefly, and I set all the scrolls aside so she could sit next to me. She did so with little hesitation, folding her hands in her lap and looking down at them.
"I saw a shadow go over him as he slept. I don't know what it was- perhaps it was even the flicker of my cantrip- I don't know. It was as though I saw a demon, horns and all. But it left as quickly as it came, leaving just- I don't know- a dark Human." She sighed and looked at the empty vial I had left behind. "It was only then I could begin to conceive of Drow life- what it might have been, at the beginning. Of course I'd received lessons, in my youth, but I'd never thought too deeply on them. I began to wonder how many dark Elves didn't know what they were, at first. How many searched for the sun, only to have it confuse and blind them."
She stood up sharply, hugging her elbows to herself and giving a short and quiet huff. I watched her, thinking over Bahlzair's offer, knowing that I didn't have very much time to consider it.
"Tell Bahlzair, when he is ready, to take back these scrolls."
"Are you ready for the reagents, then?" Ylyssa asked, turning sharply to look at me. "Can it be done quickly?"
"Let me speak with Bahlzair. I need strengthening."
17 August 2011
1:19 Convenient sins.
Ylyssa, who couldn't stand the married Eladrin honorific and begged me not to use it, was actually quite the conversational companion. She was far older than her looks implied, and came from an Eladrin clan that demanded that every woman be fit to be an advisor for a ruling council. She was a mistress of twelve languages, Infernal being one of them. While she spoke it with a pronounced accent, it was good enough to remind me of my mother tongue.
"It is imperative that you practice," she counseled in serious tones as she mopped her stone floor. She was a neat freak- almost obsessive. She secretly adored it when Aleksei cleaned the place, and so never barred him from doing so. This was one of the things that had given Syjen the mistaken idea that she would have little problem accepting other services.
"Who will I speak to with it?" I replied, sitting in a shadowy corner and staring down at scrolls that I could not read. Bahlzair had sent some literature that I hoped was useless, claiming that I had used it to enter the sickly state that Ylyssa had witnessed. I didn't completely allow myself to believe that the Drow was on my side. He was Drow, after all- Drow are always on their own side.
"Me," Ylyssa replied, arms atop her mop and her head atop her arms. "I have no one to speak to, either. We can help each other."
"Don't you speak to Syjen at all?" I asked, feigning disturbance.
"He tried to talk to me, when we were young. His father suggested that we try to communicate as though we were from the same clan. But it was an awful idea. He would try to teach me about ancient wars, but I knew them all in greater detail than he did. He would speak of spell theorems, and I rapidly discovered that his understanding of most of the magical schools was sadly lacking. His factoring is still atrocious, even now."
"That domination spell is probably the best he's got, then," I snorted, looking back down at the scroll.
"Yes, it is. It's a convenient little trick for me, but one of the most powerful spells he can cast. If he can't use it, for whatever reason, he depends heavily upon me to reign the target in." She laughed quietly, turning my back on me to continue her mopping. "I was proud to be so useful, once."
I stopped what I was doing, got up, and crossed over to her to hold the mop still. To this day, I have no idea what possessed me.
"Do you feel less useful now?"
"My function as the elder councilman's first daughter was to unite two warring Eladrin clans, and I have done that," Ylyssa replied, dry eyed and somber as she lifted her gaze up to my own. "Now I am fulfilling my duty as wife- as much as I can, anyway. If I were to be left alone somehow, then I would return home, to be exiled to a widow's hut and consulted only when something that touches my particular area of expertise- foreign language, laws, and culture- arises."
"By Baator, that's wasteful," I spat, letting go of the mop and returning to my corner. "An Eladrin idea of civilization. Ridiculous."
A strange, short chuckle followed me. "I should torch you for such a statement. But you're right- it IS ridiculous. Even the word for this union is ridiculous. You know what the word for 'wife' is, to my dear husband?"
"What?" I asked, looking up in time to catch Ylyssa swinging her hips in a caricature-like manner as she put her mop away. She turned around and pronounced the word as though it were a mystic curse, leaning forward and wiggling her fingers.
"Sclábhaí. In my dialect, it's what you'd call a slavegirl." She stood up straight again and snorted. "I can only suppose my father knew what he was doing. He always did promise me that he'd marry me off to a deserving man."
"Then shouldn't he have chosen a man that actually would have liked your company?" I replied, feeling my brows furrowing.
"My father hated me, of course," Ylyssa laughed bitterly. "So does everyone."
"I don't think you're quite right," I breathed, looking back down at the scroll. "Aleksei likes you well enough."
"He's... different. Oh, Bahlzair sent this up for you, as well," Ylyssa said offhandedly, raising her right hand and spiriting a bottle down to me. "He said you may find it necessary."
"I could almost be insulted, but you tell me he is a good alchemist," I grumbled, wondering what poison the dark Elf had in store for me.
You'd think the untrusting Tiefling would refuse to drink the stuff. But the crafty Tiefling realizing that if she didn't drink an alchemist's recommendation, then she'd probably be blowing her cover, well, I basically had to drink it. It was chalky tasting, gamey smelling and salty, but at least it didn't make any part of me numb. Deciding that it would be better to simply down the stuff instead of prolonging the agony by sipping at it, I discovered why Balzhair would have sent it and the scroll up together.
As though a mist had been blown off the scroll, I suddenly began to be able to decipher the markings on the page. It said only two things:
"I will help you leave. I will help you kill whichever one of them you choose."
"It is imperative that you practice," she counseled in serious tones as she mopped her stone floor. She was a neat freak- almost obsessive. She secretly adored it when Aleksei cleaned the place, and so never barred him from doing so. This was one of the things that had given Syjen the mistaken idea that she would have little problem accepting other services.
"Who will I speak to with it?" I replied, sitting in a shadowy corner and staring down at scrolls that I could not read. Bahlzair had sent some literature that I hoped was useless, claiming that I had used it to enter the sickly state that Ylyssa had witnessed. I didn't completely allow myself to believe that the Drow was on my side. He was Drow, after all- Drow are always on their own side.
"Me," Ylyssa replied, arms atop her mop and her head atop her arms. "I have no one to speak to, either. We can help each other."
"Don't you speak to Syjen at all?" I asked, feigning disturbance.
"He tried to talk to me, when we were young. His father suggested that we try to communicate as though we were from the same clan. But it was an awful idea. He would try to teach me about ancient wars, but I knew them all in greater detail than he did. He would speak of spell theorems, and I rapidly discovered that his understanding of most of the magical schools was sadly lacking. His factoring is still atrocious, even now."
"That domination spell is probably the best he's got, then," I snorted, looking back down at the scroll.
"Yes, it is. It's a convenient little trick for me, but one of the most powerful spells he can cast. If he can't use it, for whatever reason, he depends heavily upon me to reign the target in." She laughed quietly, turning my back on me to continue her mopping. "I was proud to be so useful, once."
I stopped what I was doing, got up, and crossed over to her to hold the mop still. To this day, I have no idea what possessed me.
"Do you feel less useful now?"
"My function as the elder councilman's first daughter was to unite two warring Eladrin clans, and I have done that," Ylyssa replied, dry eyed and somber as she lifted her gaze up to my own. "Now I am fulfilling my duty as wife- as much as I can, anyway. If I were to be left alone somehow, then I would return home, to be exiled to a widow's hut and consulted only when something that touches my particular area of expertise- foreign language, laws, and culture- arises."
"By Baator, that's wasteful," I spat, letting go of the mop and returning to my corner. "An Eladrin idea of civilization. Ridiculous."
A strange, short chuckle followed me. "I should torch you for such a statement. But you're right- it IS ridiculous. Even the word for this union is ridiculous. You know what the word for 'wife' is, to my dear husband?"
"What?" I asked, looking up in time to catch Ylyssa swinging her hips in a caricature-like manner as she put her mop away. She turned around and pronounced the word as though it were a mystic curse, leaning forward and wiggling her fingers.
"Sclábhaí. In my dialect, it's what you'd call a slavegirl." She stood up straight again and snorted. "I can only suppose my father knew what he was doing. He always did promise me that he'd marry me off to a deserving man."
"Then shouldn't he have chosen a man that actually would have liked your company?" I replied, feeling my brows furrowing.
"My father hated me, of course," Ylyssa laughed bitterly. "So does everyone."
"I don't think you're quite right," I breathed, looking back down at the scroll. "Aleksei likes you well enough."
"He's... different. Oh, Bahlzair sent this up for you, as well," Ylyssa said offhandedly, raising her right hand and spiriting a bottle down to me. "He said you may find it necessary."
"I could almost be insulted, but you tell me he is a good alchemist," I grumbled, wondering what poison the dark Elf had in store for me.
You'd think the untrusting Tiefling would refuse to drink the stuff. But the crafty Tiefling realizing that if she didn't drink an alchemist's recommendation, then she'd probably be blowing her cover, well, I basically had to drink it. It was chalky tasting, gamey smelling and salty, but at least it didn't make any part of me numb. Deciding that it would be better to simply down the stuff instead of prolonging the agony by sipping at it, I discovered why Balzhair would have sent it and the scroll up together.
As though a mist had been blown off the scroll, I suddenly began to be able to decipher the markings on the page. It said only two things:
"I will help you leave. I will help you kill whichever one of them you choose."
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