My ti in darkness was not peaceful. I had rarely been chased by dreams of the Harkleys since I'd escaped. I believe it might have had sothing to do with my encounter with the Lady. By all accounts those long years should haunt like a spectre. Yet I slept soundly, confident in my freedom.
Whether it was the poison, or the exposure to that mory through dream glamour, or so combination of the two, my mind was no longer spared. A sense of wrongness infected . A sickly feeling that left my mind confused as to what was real and what was re spectres. Sotis I dread of nonsense, but more often I found myself walking through dark halls. I heard voices, dead or distant. The mories ranged far and wide.
I was lost in the long galleries of Harkley House, the walls stretching above as if I was nought but an ant at the bottom of a gaudy prison.
I could hear the sounds of sharp, vindictive laughter creeping through padded doors. I avoided those. The competitive cruelty of the place ant that you never got involved, never stuck your neck out, not unless you wanted to beco a stepping stone to those above you. I rushed through doors, trying to find the small alchemy room I used to hide in. It was a place I could even now find while blindfolded if you'd asked, but here in this in-between place I kept getting turned around.
Doors that should lead to quiet libraries turned out to grand halls. Small cupboards that were good for hiding in dropped in the thorn gardens. And stairs to basents had arriving at the training grounds.
I found my pace, nearly always the sa unhurried but purposeful walk which I'd relied on to mask my movents faltering. I began to run, a big mistake here. Running made you stand out.
I lurched through the halls, trying to find my way out.
Occasionally I stumbled upon people, but they were but shadowy things, creatures of darkness with blood-red eyes that smiled in contempt at . So of them I thought I recognised, my most prolific torntors. Even as re silhouettes, a head tilt here, or the way fingers danced across a table anchored their identity in my mind, and with that recognition surged mories of days better forgotten. I fled.
The sounds of jeering voices chased , laughter at the "cripple", the little perfumier who was only good for a bit of coin. While I'd turned it into fuel to drive forward, here in this murky place it carved fresh wounds into . The crushing weight of what I was up against left feeling breathless and fearful. Like a fox driven to its den who can hear the hunt discussing whether to dig them out.
Beneath it all I felt like sothing was behind , a constant threat, a presence I couldn't banish. In the few rational monts I had I suspected it was the poison, but the twisted fae-like world of my dreams turned it into a monster haunting .
It took on the shape of what had been my greatest fear, the fear that they'd kill . Not that I would remain dead, but that they'd find out about my power. Familiar nightmares of them discussing dissecting , or rendering into a near mindless stud to pump out children for their filthy plans, crawled into my mind. At least others could end things. With my power I could be called back. Over and over.
Death wouldn't free .
There was a brief respite here and there. Light seed to break through on a couple of occasions. The monts that fortified most were when I stumbled into a ball. Sephy was there, feeding finger food and sweet wine. The usual sharp wit she displayed at such events was absent and instead she coddled most kindly.
Her voice asking to return.
Dreams began to break through the nightmares more frequently. Most were nonsense, but I also got flashes of the camp where I'd t Bors, the Artoss manor, and Felix Lodge. The mories soothed , but I was never anywhere kind for long. The camp would turn into that frantic night fleeing from Roland and his lackeys with Lance. In the Artoss manor I'd find myself stuck in front of the plant my mother planted, an unfilled grave yawning open. In Felix Lodge I found myself trapped again with Rowena.
After one such event my mories jumped back. Another Harkley prison, but one whose edges were fuzzy, the details made up of fragnts of mories, the scale distorted. The rooms were vast because at the ti I was so little that everything seed made for giants.
It was the Annex, a small mansion I'd lived in with my mother and "father", Regus Senior. A cold-eyed silhouette lood over and I shuddered. A mont of lucidity ca to , and I knew for certain I was in a mory, one of the earliest I had.
Regus Senior was watching . He was a titan casting his shadow over my tiny three-year-old body that stood limply before him. It was the only ti I could rember being alone with the man, ever. My mother kept him away quite adeptly, and besides, he wasn't the kind of man to fuss over a child. I was nailed in place out of fear. Sothing about him made my skin itch. He, in turn, did nothing to ease the tension, just stalked around , looking at like a smith might check over a piece of work by an apprentice.
Then he grabbed my head, yanking it so my eyes t his. His hand on my jaw was like an iron vice. I could no more resist it than stand before an avalanche. My eyes began to tear up, and I let out a sharp cry.
His only response was to click his tongue in annoyance and tighten his grip.
There was shouting and the mory dissolved. In my mory that's when my mother found us. It wasn't much later that the bastard was killed in a family spat and we'd then escaped to Portsmode.
The details of the mory filtered through, and I felt more aware than I had in a while. I floated in the shallows between sleep and the waking world, able to think yet unmoored from reality.
I'd rarely dwelt on this mory. I tried to think of "Regus Senior" as little as possible. Sothing about this recollection made pause. Why look at my eyes? Did he suspect my heritage? My thoughts swam, and with them I felt dimly aware of voices that sounded friendly and kind. I no longer returned to those grim halls, and the sense of wrongness that had been pervading eased.
I slowly woke to find myself in a rather nice bed. There was a scent of herbs and blood in the air. I could hear the sounds of a city outside, the hustle and bustle of daily life creeping through the windows that also delivered enough light to rouse . Blinking, I spotted that my fae-gifted clothes had shifted into a nightshirt, a red and black one, which was sothing I'd never managed to convince it to do before.
As I drifted into consciousness I noted that my arm was no longer screaming in pain, having settled into a dull throb. That pain told that I'd definitely not used my phoenix regeneration. So far I'd never co back with a wound, my body remade in peak condition. What was a little surprising was that as I checked my body with my senses I found that it felt clean and unsullied by poison glamour.
It was peaceful. I could sense so glamour shifting but nothing overwhelming or that indicated danger. With that thought I noticed the absence of the chest. The constant beat of the foul chest's death glamour was missing.
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I jerked fully awake, sitting up as I looked around for the cursed object. I imdiately swore as my wound complained.
"What do you think you're doing?" A sharp yet wonderful voice snapped at . Blurry shapes resolved into the form of Sephy, who leant over , pushing back into the bed. I then noted that she was fiddling with a sphere of blood over her other hand.
"The chest?" I managed to splutter out from dry lips.
"It's safe. Marrek is here. We're in Phischer's Kingdom. You've been out for two days." She pushed back gently. I tried to speak but she forced a brew down between my lips, and then so water.
"Two days?" I croaked out once I was settled.
"A healing sleep. The poison was a nasty one. Even without that bastard's poison glamour enhancing it the wound would've been difficult to fight. We're lucky that you trust enough that even unconscious you'll let play with your blood. Otherwise it might've gotten difficult." Her smile faltered and she leant over to rest her head on my good shoulder.
"It was really tough keeping you alive for a while. Please don't get stabbed by a poison cultivator again." Her voice had a fragility to it I'd not heard before. It made shrivel up just to hear it, my heart reaching out to her.
"I'll try not to. Is everyone else okay?" I grunted as I again tried to move my bad arm on instinct. My hand shifted weakly before the pain slapped down. The bastard's dagger had got in there deep.
"Everyone else is far better off than you. Their pride took the worst of it. To hear them speak you'd think everyone surviving an ambush where they were outnumbered, with enemies inford of our weaknesses and strengths, is sothing to be embarrassed about. If anything I'm the most exhausted right now. Your beautiful paramour has spent far too long cleaning that filth out of your blood." She grinned and kissed on the cheek.
"Now let's just put this back into you and then we'll get you up to speed." She brought up the large orb and I began to sweat.
"That seems like a lot of blood." I frowned at the fist-sized sphere. It was shortly after that I learned that one could get a lot of blood back into the body in a rush, but it wasn't a fun experience.
Done cramming the blood back into , Sephy joined in lying on the bed. She rested on my good side and curled round and began to explain what I'd missed. Her voice was soft, far softer than I was used to.
She then explained the challenges of keeping alive. Her description left feeling ill. I could understand her worry a bit better. I was very lucky that Sephy could filter my blood. Whatever the poison had been, it wasn't a common thing, and had rooted itself in my organs and muscles. Without the Blood glamour cleaning it from my system the damage would've rapidly outpaced the healing offered by the brews.
I would've died, and then all of the Round Table would've known my secret. Not that I didn't trust them, but the best guard on such vital secrets was not to air them out.
After a while, and a few quick kisses, Sephy started to relay what had happened outside of my battle against the poison.
No one else had been so seriously injured, and we'd managed to keep the chest secure. It seed that the cultists who'd ambushed us had been to bla for the attack in town that had distracted Kay's team. A deliberate attempt to separate our forces, which had led the others on a wild goose chase. The only reason Lance had returned was because Kay had felt sothing was off and had sent Lance to check up on us.
Lance had spotted our horses fleeing upriver sans riders and charged in to help.
She was actually the one who'd killed the Paladin of Sacrifice. Lance had simply jumped off her mount and used the cultist to break her fall, planting her blade in his gut via the neck. The Priest and the other Paladin had also been taken down by the combined forces of the team. They'd got almost everyone. The only person to escape had been the Shadow Squire. The Squire had unfortunately escaped any attempt to track them, which ant that the cultists would know what happened in the fight, which put everyone on edge.
I'd survived in large part due to my own alchemy. I'd given the group training before and made sure that everyone had so of the elixirs and brews I concocted. Between them they'd managed to stabilise , enough that Sephy could arrive and begin to filter my blood of the toxins.
The whole group had then ford up and charged through to Phischer's domain. They'd taken turns carrying the chest and kept a constant watch out for the Divine Cultivators. While there was still a lot of doubt about whether this was the Grail, the fact those monsters wanted whatever was in the box ant protecting it was top priority.
So it was that we were now holed up in a small fort on the edge of the city of Corbinec. The usually bullish and miserly King Phischer had apparently been so pleased that the long-standing bounty was to be collected that he'd happily allowed them to inhabit the old fort.
Gawain had arrived that morning with both Marek and Rowena, who had both, after a quick check in on , devoted themselves to examining the box.
"Well it seems that all is well that ends well." I got the words out, but then Sephy pinched sharply on the stomach. It was enough to make jump and then hiss at the pain. Still, when I settled down my partner was staring at with eyes hooded with rage.
"Sephy?"
"Don't look so confused. Am I not permitted to be a bit annoyed at such a ridiculous attitude being demonstrated by my pretty bard? My wonderfully skilled artist, whose many talents are not focused upon combat, yet twice now has ended up duelling threats? And now has gone so far as to lose a staggering amount of blood and gain just as much poison."
"I an it's not like I planned for that." I grumbled.
"I just thought you were the last person I had to worry about getting hurt."
"We're cultivators, it cos with the territory," I responded laly. It sounded weak to , and from the way Sephy's eyes narrowed it didn't sound any better to her.
"You're ant to be a bard."
"And if I choose to follow knights who stand against dragons, I know I'm risking getting burnt."
"I know. It's just both tis it happened while I was away. The poison, well, if they hadn't got to you." She flexed her hands before nailing with a look that didn't have the evil eye behind it but certainly felt like it did. "Look, I know you have your trick. But I still don't like the idea of you dying. Not now, not ever, and especially not on a table in front of as I frantically draw the blood out of you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't an to…"
"I'm just angry. You didn't do anything wrong. It just hurts." She sighed and leant her head back on my shoulder.
"Everyone knows we fucked up. Not you, not anyone specifically, but we should've been better. Kay is beating herself up for not deciding to have more guards on the artefact. Bors and Maeve are kicking themselves for sparring when they should've been keeping watch. Arthur's so angry at himself that Maeve agreed to spend ti distracting him."
"Know who I bla? Those thrice-cursed cultists," I growled out.
It wasn't that we'd not expected to encounter so cultists on their journey. The bastards were trying to take over Euross after all. However, the co-ordinated attack that targeted the chest had shown a level of planning and subterfuge we'd never expected of them.
It was a worrying shift in their behaviour.
It was big enough that Rowena had even co with Marrek, risking the ire of the Green Knight to ensure the chest and whatever its contents were destroyed. They'd spent a sizeable for-the-area force on the attack. It wasn't unbelievable to imagine they'd have more in reserve. Possibly even a Steel.
Sephy had ntioned in her summary earlier that Tristan and Maeve had both been slinking off repeatedly to talk to their respective families' spies. Their combined network was going over every rumour and possibility to hunt for hints that would explain their presence.
The fact they'd been disguised and close enough to attack us told us everything we needed to know.
The Round Table had been shaken by the attack. The last few months had lulled the Knights into a sense of complacency. The bandits, even if they contained an Iron here or there, were never much of a threat, never gathering in more than a trio. The biggest threats tended to be beasts. The greatest challenges were protecting mortals, not their own lives.
Only now a great fire had risen right beside us and burned us for our hubris.
I found myself reassuring Sephy. Her tone as she spoke of those mistakes was full of an unfamiliar level of self-loathing. She placed the bla firmly at her own feet.
It was as I was reassuring her for the third ti that I didn't bla her for heading into town that day that the door to our room swept open.
Lance stared at the pair of us, seemingly confused, before her face broke out into a wide grin.
"Taliesin, you're awake. Knew you'd be all right." She ran over as if to clap on the shoulder. Given only one was free I was very grateful when Sephy leapt up to intercept her and shut the door.
"I hear I have you to thank for that."
"Don't ntion it. We were the ones who got tricked in the first place. We shouldn't have left you alone." She grimaced.
"Lance, I assu you ca up for a reason?" Sephy said, straightening her clothes now she was out of the bed. The blonde knight smartly didn't comnt on our closeness.
"Well, I ca up to tell Percy that we're about ready to crack open the chest. Marek and Rowena think it's ti. Seems you woke up just in ti for the big reveal."
"Well this should be worth seeing," I grunted.
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