by N. Saraven
“It could bring my appetite,” she murmured, arguing, which made that little voice inside her head disagree. But it must be wrong, reasoned the mage with herself, as she drank her little cup in two gulps. It was a small glass, yet not small enough if she decided to have more. Which she did.
As she poured another one, she remembered from where the drink came.
Originally it was an elven delicacy, the only one with this much spirit. It was Halgor’s personal favourite; however, he rarely drank from it. It inspired the stomach, the elvens said, creating the desire for food. So it was customary to drink a little glass just before eating.
Neila had become immediately charmed by the drink at the first try, when Halgor introduced her to it. After, despite her love for it, she rarely had any—not because she did not want to, but because she usually decided against it. Why, she never really had an explanation, it just felt right.
Just as good as the second glass now, so the Master decided to have another one.
She savoured this one, sipping it slowly and in small portions at once, letting it cover every corner of her mouth. She glanced around, not even looking at any specific thing. For the first time in a while, she had no thoughts swirling around her mind. As if she stood in a ‘nothing room’ inside, where literally nothing existed, so she could finally be at peace.
Only one thing made it through into the emptiness—the terrific feeling that the drink caused. So she decided for another one, what made her warrior self raise its voice again. She really should not do this, but what could it know, Neila argued with herself.
Suddenly she felt her legs tremble. She must be tired, she decided, so with that glass of drink, she sat back in the armchair. She started to muse upon that black liquid she liked so much. She always wondered how the elvens discovered it. She easily dismissed its spirit, which started to affect her mind and slowly her body, as she sipped the drink.
It was completely different from anything the elvens had and liked. They mostly made light, very light fruit-wines, or drinks from herbs. These had almost no spirit because they did not like its effects. They saw what half-rotten fruits could cause in animals, so even though the spirit could make anybody feel better, it proved to be too dangerous to meddle with.
In the elvens’ eyes, it was easy to cross that fine line between desirable and harmful. Especially since the elvens already lived open lives, so they had no need for the help of the spirit.
On the other hand, this pitch-black liquid was not only very strong, it was made from around fifty different herbs, from fruits through roots to seeds.
Neila let her head lean against the back of the chair; her thoughts started to shatter. Recalling how the drink was created drew more energy than she thought. Furthermore, her glass turned empty again, so she stood up to pour another. She felt nothing from the spirit, nor that it would bring her craving for food back.
As time and her thoughts flew by, she had a few more of the drinks. Neila’s warrior side ceased to talk around the fifth glass. She lost all control of the happenings, so she did not realise what she got herself into. When she finally did, it was already too late.
One of the reasons that made Neila mostly avoid this drink was that its spirit had a very nasty temper. It did not show itself for a long time, hiding itself somewhere. Then, when one would think it maybe did not exist, it started to rampage with full force, knocking out even the strongest minds. She had to learn this the hard way, since the drink also tasted sweet, so it was hard to stop.
Night ruled the lands when Neila started to feel … something.
At first, she dismissed the dizziness because in those days, she could feel dizzy without any particular reason. She also often felt disconnected from her body, as if her mind felt trapped inside, wanting out. In this regard, nights were the worst, so she did not consider them signs of too much drinking.
Neila scrambled to her feet again, starting for the table to pour another drink, which ought to cheer her up, making her feel better. In her theory, at least. Yet when she turned back to the chair, she lost her balance. She had to grab the table, or anything around her, to help herself back to her seat. Regardless, she could hardly get any closer, it seemed to her.
She took a very curved route back, while she leaned to one side to stay in balance.
“Well now … what’s wrong with me today …?” she wondered when she finally reached her destination and managed to thump down into the chair again.
As she glanced around, the whole room started to shiver, although she could hardly see anything in the dark. She blinked, baffled about the fact that it was night-time, then tried to light the magical spheres on the wall to gain some light. But her tongue decided not to work, so she could not say the words out loud. Neila frowned at the darkness, trying reluctantly. The fifth try proved to be the one—gleam swallowed the room, making her cover her eyes with a growl. Her frantic motion triggered the dizziness even more, which almost literally hit her in the head.
“Oh dear …” she moaned. “Maybe a glass wasn’t such a good idea …” she wondered out loud.
She tried to send out an impulse to Eryn to ask for something to eat, but her mind refused to obey. So she gave up after a few unsuccessful tries. She longed for dinner because she remembered what the wraith said it would be that night.
Yet she still had her last little glass of drink, which tasted sweet. And sweet could make hunger go away, so it should probably help. Solid logic …
Neila finished it slowly, as she swayed her leg. She practically was lying in the armchair, muttering to herself.
“Alright spirit,” she mumbled, smiling dumbly. “You won …” She chuckled, although she could not tell why it was funny. Yet it was.
She started a one-sided dialogue with the drink as she finished her last glass. When she was done, she just leaned back, closed her eyes, and panted heavily. She dropped her hands into her lap, although one of them was still holding the little glass.
A knock broke the silence in the room, but Neila did not even blink, nor move a muscle. She heard somebody entering, but could not give out more than heavy panting. She jerked up her cup-holding hand, yet it fell right back.
“By the Gods, Neila …” gasped Enargit, who knelt beside the chair, looking for clues of what had happened to his friend. Then he took the glass from her hand, cautiously sniffing into it, but he jerked his head away instantly.
“This is unbelievable …” he growled.
The shadow dragon carefully slapped Neila’s cheek to get a reaction, albeit he got only the heavy panting as the answer. He picked her up, then laid her down on the bed. As he arranged her to be comfortable, he sent out an impulse to Veilon, who most probably was still with the others in one of their rooms. Enargit himself came from there, just to check up on Neila to be sure everything was all right.
Until that point, the companions were discussing their possibilities regarding her.
They tried to come up with a plan for what might come. They did not want to face the future unprepared, although for this they had to work out what Neila might do. The only thing that seemed sure was that Indrek probably could not be saved from the mage’s wrath.
Although they would be fine with that …
Dusk fell on the lands when the friends started to think they were only running in circles now. They had to wait for Neila’s next move, from where they could move forwards too. They all believed that Halgor was with her, so not even Veilon dared to disturb them. They asked one of the apprentices to bring some dinner up. They also tried to speak about the facts a little bit more while eating.
Somewhere at this point, Enargit started to become skittish. He wiggled more and more, his heart pounded for some reason, and his thoughts swirled around Neila. He had this very strong urge to look into her room.
Just in case … to see that everything is fine, he thought, although he snapped at himself right afterwards. He could step in during a very important question, or answer, pr
obably ruining everything. And he truly did not want that to happen.
However, the others walked in circles now, which annoyed him even more. So around the fourth turn, he excused himself, stepping out from the room. He ran into Eryn in the corridor, who climbed the stairs with a tray in his hands with food and refreshment.
“Where do you go with that?” the shadow asked.
“To my knowledge, my Master hasn’t eaten the whole day now, so I thought I would bring her something.”
“Halgor is supposed to be with her. He would have asked for something by now …” argued the dragon softly, but the wraith just shrugged.
He knew nothing about such a request to the kitchen, as he said. That was one of the reasons which urged him to act on his own. He also added that he had heard nothing from Halgor for a while now, and if he were with the Master, he would know about it.
Eryn’s features and tone told how unsatisfied he felt about the situation in the Tower. The Leader knew that the apprentices and mages called only Neila their Master for a while now; they rather kept their distance from Halgor. If they understood the mage’s behaviour, they still could not accept it.
Enargit started to worry even more, hearing all this.
“Leave it to me. I will bring it to her,” murmured the shadow, with which he earned a questioning look from the wraith. But nobody could deny that Enargit had stood beside Neila this whole time. So Eryn slowly nodded and handed him the tray. The dragon started up hurriedly.
They both could have used teleportation to get to Neila’s room, even though it lay above the barrier which separated the two major parts of the Tower—the one which everybody could visit, and the one that was only open for skilled mages.
Enargit knew how he could get through the barrier with magic, yet for those few steps he did not want to use it. Why the wraith chose to climb the steps from the kitchen, he had no idea, nor cared at the moment.
He knocked on her door; his heart was throbbing. When he got no answer, he entered hastily. His eyes widened when he saw Neila in her armchair, almost lying. Alone.
He immediately put down the tray on the table and stepped to her. Kneeling down, he quickly checked what could be the problem. At first, he thought of the worst. Then he found the glass in her hand, which made him equally relieved and anxious. He immediately contacted Veilon in his mind, sweeping all courtesies under the rug. The situation did not allow such.
“You need to come to Neila’s room at once!” he ordered the kobold, immediately ceasing the connection after, although even this short time was enough for him to feel how nauseated the kobold became.
Enargit knew that his magic could be very uncomfortable to those who used smoother powers. He was born in a different age, used much wilder forces. Veilon probably did not thank him for the intrusion, yet he could not care less at the moment.
After he laid Neila on her bed, he poured a cup of fresh water, then tried to make her drink it. A little later the door slammed open as the others barged in.
“What happened?” demanded Agony immediately, who obviously assumed the worst.
“She is completely drunk!” replied the shadow, not even glancing at the companions, who stood at their place, stunned by the news. Even though it was considered a very serious problem, they probably prepared for something else.
“Oh my God … she drank a half bottle o’ Jägermeister!” gasped Rita, eyeing the drink on the table.
“A what?” asked Agony, who took a slice of bread from the tray, then carefully climbed on Neila’s other side in the bed. He and Enargit tried to force something down her throat, but the mage stubbornly waved everything away from her mouth.
“It is a liquor in my original world. You know, that elven drink she likes so much,” explained Rita as she watched the others still trying to make Neila drink or eat something. But she always jerked her head away, moaning, as if she were under torture.
“Let me be. I’m fine, I’m fine,” she whinged, putting up a good fight against the water or bread.
“She’s almost out cold and she says she’s fine …” muttered Talek sharply, with which he earned a few disapproving glances.
“Where is Halgor? I want Halgor!” the Master cried out, then she started to mumble about the elven. The others exchanged glances.
“This IS a good question … Where is that cracked elven?” mused Veilon, as he stepped to the bed. He motioned Enargit to switch places with him. The dragon glanced at him, but then obeyed with a deep sigh. The mage carefully held Neila up, who still panted heavily. But when the foggy golden gaze saw him, she almost jumped into his arms.
“Halgor! You came back!” she whispered, although it turned into sobbing.
Veilon almost blushed at her emotional outburst. Not to mention Agony’s and Talek’s gleaming eyes on him. He then softly yet firmly pushed her away, although after he held her in a half-sitting position.
“I am not him,” he whispered to her, lovingly sweeping a lock from her blushed cheek.
“How could anybody mix you two?” snorted Agony, who helped make Neila as comfortable as they could.
“My clothes, you idiot,” barked the mage, meaning that the elven usually also wore dark clothing. Then he turned to the still-panting Neila, whose eyes were cracked open. “Neila, wasn’t he with you?”
“Halgor …? No! He doesn’t even look at me anymore! He hates me!” she cried out in dismay, then she frantically buried her face in his clothes and burst into tears.
“Great … this is what we needed.” Agony sighed as he scrambled out from the bed.
“Try to understand her, please,” snapped Talek, which made the other grimace.
“Believe me, I understand. I still hate these situations because you are completely useless,” argued the warrior. The soldier only snorted. Agony had a point—besides Veilon, who now just tapped the sobbing Neila’s shoulders, nobody could do anything but stand from one foot to the other.
“Anyhow, it is a very good question; where is Halgor then?” cut in Enargit before a fight could break out between the friends. “I thought he came here after he left us.”
“All of us did.” Rita nodded.
Meanwhile, Neila slowly calmed down, maybe because of Veilon’s caress, maybe because she grew tired of crying. It gave a chance for the mage to concentrate for a few moments. But he soon widened his eyes in surprise.
“He is not in the Tower!”
“How could that happen? I seriously doubt that after what he said he just took off. Or …?” Agony glanced around. He could not hide his doubts very well.
“I really don’t think so. He seemed to find peace,” said Kira with eternal goodwill. Although when she caught Veilon and Enargit exchanging questioning glances, she frowned.
“Maybe he flew out with Nighthunter again,” mused Enargit out loud, dismissing the angry Kira. “I will look into this amidst my dragons. Until then, you should … try to make her drink and eat something.” He gestured towards Neila as he started for the door. But the shade’s scold made him halt for a little longer.
“You don’t believe that Halgor would disappear, do you?” Kira turned to Rita, who stood beside her with folded arms. The girl’s look said that she wanted to agree with the shade, very much so. However …
She gave a faint smile, trying to avoid answering.
All knew that the shade had endless hope in everything and everybody. Even of Veilon or Halgor, she always thought that if things turned really serious, they would act nobly. She too saw what both of them did in the Dragonwars, yet she believed in Halgor and his loyalty towards his friends and mate.
The companions sometimes could hardly restrain themselves not to call Kira too naïve to her eyes. They knew little of her, only that she had lived way more circles than any of them. Yet in body and mind she was closest to Rita—a young woman, who tried to find her way in the world. She could be very childish in some situations, then a moment later she said something so wise, which made everybod
y gasp.
In the current situation, she became stubborn as she snapped at her friends, seeing their unconvinced looks.
“Well, I don’t believe that!” Kira cried out. “I know that you believe that I only see the good in people, that I miss the bad things. But Halgor could have left us many times now, and he didn’t. Not to mention his arrangement with Lexénia after the Wars! Maybe YOU have forgotten this, but I haven’t! He truly seemed way more stable than any day before since this whole thing started. I seriously doubt that he just ‘took off’, as you said, Agony. You must listen to me!” snapped the shade. When nobody answered, she fell completely silent, pouting.
Even Neila seemed to calm down, or fall asleep, although nobody could tell how she did that with all this yelling in the room.
“What do you think?” Enargit broke the silence, glancing at Agony. He completely dismissed the fact that Kira was still in the room, blushing in anger, or that the warrior was embarrassed about this. The dragon made everybody uncomfortable.
“Well … Kira has … ahem … unique observation skills. Sometimes she truly does see something which others miss. She turned out right many times before.”
“So?” the Leader hurried the other, not caring about the tense atmosphere.
“So I can believe that she’s got a fair point.” Agony exhaled. “Honestly, nobody from us is fond of the elven. We rather see all the evil he can do, just because it is easier. And yes, I too remember somewhat at the end, and yes, he stood beside Neila. And us …”
Talek snorted, as if he was insulted. Kira just clenched her jaws even more, making her too childish. However, it should not take very long. Enargit looked around one more time, then left.
“So now what? What shall we do?” asked Rita.
“We cannot really do anything, except wait for Neila to sleep this off.” Veilon shrugged. He sat in a very uncomfortable position, and his legs started to get numb. But he did not want to move because he feared that Neila would wake up. Although he could not truly believe that her position could be comfortable either …