"Would you like a walk by the anchorage? New shipments may be arriving, you might find something of your heart's desire."
"No."
"Some chess, perhaps? You seemed to have taken a liking to it lately."
"No."
"A fine meal, then? The maids say that you have not eaten. Should I request something on your behalf?"
"No."
"Miss Ashfury..." The words faded gently, dragged in a tone of disappointment, colliding with trouble. "You must at least eat something. Magister Bloodthorn would not-"
"I would like to be alone. Please." the woman's soft voice echoed in the somewhat dark room, which was poorly illuminated by the afternoon sun's weak rays, as they were slithering in through the pulled drapes. They gave light to the large chamber, with the pots of dead roses onto the table, the open letters discarded on the floor and the armoured man, carrying the insignia of house Bloodthorn on his chest, standing in sinificant distance from the bed, where the young apprentice, fully clothed, lay against the blankets, with her back turned to the world.
The man nodded with difficuly, as his right hand slid over to the hilt of his sword. His back was straightened, presenting an individual prepared to take action. "Should I at least call for someone to see to your room? Do something about these rats?" he asked, gesturing to the five cages, each of which trapped a single critter. Two of them had already succumbed to disease, while the remaining three were struggling against it. The stench emitted was not strong, which could only mean the deaths were recent.
"You may take them and go." she mumbled. "I wish to be alone. Please."
The monotony of her voice may not have been something unusual, though the way she uttered the last word was completely soulless. As if the youth was in a waking dream, still sleeeping. It made the guard relent, with an expression of concern shadowing his features. He knew her very little, though was well aware of her lonely nature. His heavy steps and the creaking of his armour echoed in the room as he made his way to the cages only to pick them up and head towards the door.
"If you need anything..." he muttered audibly, keeping his pleasant demeanour. Celysiel nodded, though the chosen angle barely allowed him to take note of it. The door closed behind him with, depriving the room from yet another source of light.
Celysiel's green eyes remained shining in the lack of brightness of the room, as the lower half of her head was buried into her arms and the pillow. The upper, however, remained raised, her gaze locked onto the two stones in front of her. One round, it contained something swirling within, the purple essence dancing into spirals. After her argument with her mentor at the early hours of the previous day, she had considered tossing his gift away, releasing her anger in that way, but she couldn't. Not only because it would be mindless and her anger had died into sadness quickly, but also because she did not wish to deal with the succubus Domynn ever again.
And the other stone? The sharp ends made it more savage in appearance than the soulstone, though to her, the way the light reflected on the polished surface, only to slither towards the ends made it extraordinarily beautiful. The deep, dark colour that adorned it. But it oozed with unholy energies which she could not succumb to and she only had Theradrim's ward to thank for that. However, she had not seen the Magister ever since the previous day, early in the morning, when the stone had become the root of their disagreement. It was clear that she was avoiding him, as he was too, most likely.
Yet the apprentice could not help but shake the feeling that there was something familiar with the stone, a bond, an elusive memory. Holding it brought the remembering of tempation, where had it come from?
The dream... There was a dream...
The wolf which we followed into the darkness... But who were 'we'?
Lieutenant Adhemar, he was arguing about a dream... But with whom?
And someone was holding a sword... A sword, pointing at her.
And when they followed the wolf? What then?
But who were they?
It was as if someone had cast a spell on her, though if that was the case, her mentor would have detected it. The more she tried to delve into it, recall, the more distant it would seem, blur. To remember a dream, one need do nothing but rely on reality, all the things that may trigger the sleeping memory. But the stone? There were two individuals who could shed some light, though Eraevin she dared not ask.
But the letters... The summons... The keys...
A dream... A dream... But was it truly a dream?
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