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."
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