***
“You can’t take her home with you,” Bern told him, not budging in the slightest.
“She is my daughter and I’ll place her where I see fit,” Yulan argued. “Lorna can take just as good or even better care of her than your people here.”
“She will get better, and she needs more training,” Bern continued.
Yulan didn’t debate this point. The main reason he brought her here while aware of the danger was because she was a risk to herself and others. Her ability beginning to manifest, left uncontrolled, could have disastrous potential. That fact remained unchanged.
“I’ll take her away from here, away from our village and I’ll finish training her in seclusion,” Yulan pushed.
Bern leaned forward, his bushy white eyebrows pushed together. “You’re an old man. You know you don’t have the energy for that any longer.”
“I’m younger than you are! And I don’t have that… thing wrapped around my neck,” Yulan spat, “How could you not tell me you were the one bearing Kubathu’s relic?”
“We’ve already been over this,” Bern grumbled, standing up to pour both of them another drink. “The less who know the better, and the safest place for her here is close to me.”
“I don’t care. I will finish training her myself. My decision is made,” Yulan said, unrelenting.
Bernard’s back went straight and he remained motionless, facing away from Yulan. Finally he set the glass decanter down. His body language told Yulan there was more taking place than he let on. He needed to figure out what.
“She can’t leave,” Bern said flatly.
“What is it you’re not telling me,” Yulan stated. He didn’t need to ask if Bernard was withholding information, he knew he was. It was what the old magus did. It was what they were all groomed to do, even himself at one point in time.
“We’re friends, Yulan. More than friends. You are like a son to me after all these years, though we are both old men now. Yes, you too are old,” Bernard said, seeing Yulan’s eyebrow raise, “and wise enough to know I can’t tell you everything that goes on when so much is at stake.”
“I’ve no time for these games, Bernard. You’re right. I am old, and I don’t want to spend the time I have wasting it on politics and intrigue. I’m taking my daughter home now.”
“She’ll die if you take her,” Bernard said flatly as Yulan reached the door.
That made him stop and turn around.
Bernard hung his head and began to elaborate, albeit reluctantly. “When Kubathu breached the second stone five days ago, I was in the middle of a training session with Sevra. I believe he formed a link with her at that time. He briefly took over her mind in a desperate attempt to stop us from containing him again. I’m working on breaking the link, but if she goes too far from the gem, from me, it will abruptly sever the connection and the shock of it will kill her.”
“So you put her directly in harm’s way,” Yulan concluded.
“I don’t think that’s a fair assessment, given the totality of the events we are witnessing.”
There it was. Bernard always had to place himself at the center of the faire. He should have known better than to entrust Sevra to him. Even though Bern was old, he never outgrew that need. It was the reason the man could never bring himself to retire.
“If she doesn’t wake up,” Yulan began.
“She will,” Bernard insisted. “Frankly, it would be better if she didn’t though until we can break the link. If she woke up now Kubathu would likely try to kill me through her. We’ll make another attempt tomorrow. I take it you’ll be staying for a while?”
“Yes, that’s right. With your permission of course,” Yulan answered, overly gracious. “I’ll stay in Sevra’s quarters until she’s ready to move back there.”
He left the room without any further conversation. He wanted to put his fist through the door on the way out but restrained himself. At times he wished he had taken a simpler profession, and never became entangled with the Magicus Celesti. Sure at their best they saved lives, righted wrongs, corrected injustices. At their worst however, they pulled strings and watched others dance, trampling any who stood in their way. They were a secretive, scheming, bureaucracy capable of reaching their own ends at any cost. Who could know exactly what the truth was at this given moment, except for maybe a select few within the Celesti?
After a full day of travelling, meeting with a few of the magi, and most importantly sitting in with Sevra, he was exhausted. He didn’t have time to rest yet though, he wanted to go visit her again to be there in case she awoke, and to see what he could ferret out about this link keeping her trapped here.
Once in the infirmary he sat by Sevra again, holding his hand over her for a few more hours. In all likelihood there was little he could do that Bernard and his wizards could not, but he needed to try. He might not be as strong as many of them, and certainly rusty, but he was a crafty one himself, with many tricks at his disposal. Plus, he knew Sevra better than anyone else; if there was an anomaly within her aura or a malignant force at work, he might be able to see it.
Other than not moving or responding, nothing appeared wrong with her. She had a mildly slow pulse, no fever, and didn’t appear to be in any distress. Yulan looked deeper, hoping to see anything his eyes could not. She still had her sparkle, brighter than anyone else he knew, and that gave him a small smile, but the mists around her streamed about in disarray, scrambled and chaotic. He couldn’t begin to see where any readjustments might be helpful. She would need to rest and allow it to recover naturally; as far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything here that didn’t belong.
With resignation he returned to Sevra’s quarters. Part of him felt like he was violating her room, but the guest housing was on the other side of the grounds. He wanted to be as close as possible to the infirmary, just in case. Taking a pillow from the bed, he tossed it on the floor and lay down. He could at least respect her space that much. The hard ground didn’t bother him at all, he could have fallen asleep lengthwise on a fence right now if he had to.
He wished he knew what was wrong with Sevra, and held to the hope that she only needed to sleep for a while. She had received a significant trauma, and her mind probably had to take some time to recover. He prayed that time was all she needed.
The sun was still barely setting, yet he could hardly keep his eyes open. When he rolled over, a pale green stem poking out from under Sevra’s mattress made him fully open his eyes; he probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if the sliver of sun didn’t catch it just right. With a groan he pushed himself from the ground and stood, gently touching the end of the stem.
Lifting the mattress slightly he peeked under it. What he saw made him suspicious, it looked like a deadened bloom of a plant. Exactly which one he couldn’t tell from his quick view. With another lift of the mattress he pulled out the entire weed. There were a few dried white pods at the end of the fernlike branches; immediately he ran from the room with the plant in hand.
“Bernard!” he yelled in his sleepwear, pounding on the wizard’s door. He felt foolish for only a moment, realizing it was early evening and he was inappropriately dressed in a busy hallway, causing a scene. Bernard was also likely not in his room at this hour.
“Can you tell me where Magus Bernard is?” he asked hurriedly, grabbing the first person he saw.
“Usually at meal about now,” he answered, staring at Yulan and the dried up bouquet in his hand.
“Get him for me!” he shouted, louder than he intended, “please, it’s very important.”
Several minutes of anxious pacing later, he finally saw Bernard coming around the corner. The man lives as long as a turtle because he moves just as slowly, Yulan thought impatiently. Hurrying over to him he began explaining in a rush, “I think Sevra was poisoned.”
Bernard scanned the halls from side to side, “Quiet down!” he whispered h
arshly, “let’s talk in my quarters. And put that down by your side.”
Yulan stopped, though Bernard continued walking at his demure pace. He flung the plant downward, holding it low to his side and took a few quick steps to catch up.
“You should have joined us for supper, lots of faces would have been eager to see you,” Bernard commented, speaking while looking straight ahead.
“Yes, perhaps tomorrow night,” Yulan said, understanding Bern didn’t want to speak in the halls, “any idea what’s on the menu?”
“Pot roast, I think. Or was that last night? Bah, hard to remember at my age. Here we are, after you.” Bern looked to the left and right, running his hand over his door with a few specific gestures, opening it to allow Yulan inside.
“White Lotus,” Bernard said once they were inside.
“You know?” Yulan asked with incredulity, “Did you give her anything to counteract it?” He tossed the bloom onto Bernard’s desk, no longer comfortable holding the vile weed in his hand.
Bernard walked over to it and picked up delicately with his thumb and forefinger, disposing of it into a wastebasket.
“Sevra was not poisoned. What’s interesting is magi Albert’s cause of death was poisoning, specifically White Lotus.”
Yulan couldn’t hide his confusion.
“Albert’s death led to the chain of events allowing Kubathu to breach his prison, ultimately leading to Sevra’s current state. He is, was rather, one of many other magi instrumental in the Kubathu project. The interesting question is where did you get this plant?” Bernard explained.
Yulan stared ahead blankly, unsure of how to answer or what the potential implications may be.
“Yulan?” Bernard asked.
“It was in Sevra’s room,” he finally admitted.
“We’ll keep this between us, for now at least,” Bern said.
“What could it mean?” Yulan asked.
“Nothing good,” Bernard answered. “No matter what the answer to this riddle, it means there is an infiltrator in our midst. The particular answer will only tell us how sophisticated the one behind it is.”
Yulan nodded, the answer seemed to satisfy him for the time being. As he exited and the door closed, Bernard couldn’t help but worry how long had Sevra been under Kubathu’s influence?
Student and Master
“Uncle Yuley you’ll never catch me if you don’t run!” Sevra chirped. It was the kind of high pitch laughter only a young girl at play could make. He was fairly certain it could break a wine glass; it was music to his ears. Seeing Sevra carefree, running and playing like a child should was such a rare sight.
She had finally snapped out of her unresponsive state after another two days, and appeared stronger each day. Bernard gave her some time off before she needed to return to her training, and Sevra seemed like she wanted to spend most of it in the gardens on the grounds outside of the keep with him.
“I need a break, Sparklebug,” he groaned, finding a tree to help lower himself and sit against.
Bernard hadn’t said anything further to either him or Sevra about the white lotus plant he found in her room, but it continued nagging at him. With that thought constantly on the back of his mind, it was difficult to enjoy watching her play.
“Sevra, come here a minute,” he said. She ran over, sitting down to face him with her spindly legs next to his.
“Did you pick any flowers last week, before your accident?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Think hard, it’s very important. Anything you saw and might have thought was pretty, and brought it back to your room?”
“No,” she answered, “Master Bernard told me it’s better to admire the flowers where they belong, in the ground. It kills them if you pick them.”
“Is that so?” He said, “Alright, go on.” With a flick of his wrist he touched her chin, giving her a gentle nudge.
“C’mon!” she said, grabbing his hand before she took off. He pushed himself with his other hand at his knee and stood. There was more exploring for them to do.
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