Makings of a Monster

Reiltar's violent frenzy seemed to gradually fade, and Winski's hateful eyes never left him. Jelena and Sarevok were both unconscious, lying as bloody and battered heaps on the floor.
- "Maybe things got a little bit out of hand here," said Reiltar grudgingly.
- "You could say that," answered Winski in his iciest tone. "And now, Reiltar. Go away. Just... go away, and don't come back in a long time. The spell trigger will hurt just as much even though Jelena and Sarevok wouldn't be conscious to finish you. I only need to lift my finger."

Reiltar went, his footsteps disappearing. Go, you disgusting bastard. Go, so I can pass out too. At least I bought them some time, perhaps they will live. Oh gods, he cut Jelena's finger... and Sarevok's ribs are broken and protruding from his sides and back... this nausea is making me useless, and I don't know much of healing anyway... why am I not a priest but a mage... she breathes, his heart still beats...

Winski, barely able to move and vomiting again, curled up next to Jelena and buried his face in her lovely hair. He held Sarevok's hand next to his heart and decided to give up and die as he should already have done hours before.
I was not a good man. I was a skilled magician and intelligent man, but what did I ever accomplish? Successful plots, dead people, dark secrets. I reveled in my cynical beliefs, thinking they put me above the sheep-like masses, and yet the only years worth living were my last ones. The only thing I ever gave a damn about were these two, and somehow it feels as if it was the only worthwhile thing in my miserable drunken haze of a life. If there is any payback awaiting in the afterlife, there won't be anything too thrilling to expect , but perhaps this last act of caring and possibly saving their lives will be counted to my benefit in the retribution... let's see, eternal torment multiplied by 0.95 for committing one last act of charity for Winski. 'Course, eternal multiplied by whatever is still eternal. Vitriolic to the end, smirked Winski and passed out, expecting to die.

He came to, facing the worried Allonia and a stranger, a bald, elderly man wearing a hooded cloak. Allonia? Not likely to be the afterlife, then. He also felt much better. He shifted his head, and realized that he had been carried to his own chambers.
- "A... Allonia? What happened?"
- "Don't move, Winski. You have been healed, but you are still very weak."
- "What happened to Sarevok and Jelena?"
- "Sarevok has been stabilized, and feels no pain, and will be healed good as new once... Unnah here is done with you. He even cast Regeneration so Reiltar's wife got her finger back. "
Winski smiled. Good news indeed.
The priest finished his incantations. Winski felt very weak and drained, but the nausea and pain were gone. His mind also seemed to work again. The priest nailed his piercing eyes into Winski's.
- "I think I have quite a good picture of how exactly you got this ill. The meals you have been taking lately. Would any of them happen to have been solid in nature?"
Winski blushed, trying to think back. He didn't remember when he last had eaten much anything. Just the looming depression and pain and hopelessness, the brandy chasing it a bit and bit more away until the next morning.
- "I thought so," answered the priest dryly. "And what kind of amount of alcohol are we talking here?"
- "Weelll...." stammered Winski, "one or two brandies a day, sometimes three..."
The priest frowned. "That shouldn't be so bad," he said, confused.
- "He is talking about bottles, not glasses," said Jelena, who had appeared into the doorway.
The priest whirled around. "You should be firmly in bed! You were almost dead, woman!"
- "I want to hear this. I can't rest until I know how Winski is," said Jelena. "I think he saved my life."
Well, little wifey, I think he did at that, thought Allonia.

Winski looked at Jelena, feeling such a warmth seeing her whole and lovely and almost radiating again. She was naturally pale and weak, but she still had the new confidence she had radiated lately. Apparently Reiltar hadn't scared and raped it out of her. That is a wonder indeed. She is stronger than she thinks.

- "THREE bottles?" continued the priest.
- "Hey, it's not like it's every day and I could stop it if I wanted! It is just that I need some relaxat..."
- "Silence, mage! Save your breath, you need it for recovering! If you don't want to die, you will cut your drinking down significantly, or preferably stop it altogether. You will, every day, eat several meals consisting of different healthy things. You will relax by taking long walks, for example. That clear?"
Winski nodded, feeling humiliated to be scolded like a little schoolboy. Still, he wasn't exactly in a position to act too haughty about it.
- "And now I will go to heal the boy. Was that supposed to be a... punishment for something?" frowned the priest. "What EVER did he do? Never mind, I don't want to know."
He walked away.

- "I will see to it that Winski does what he says," said Jelena, eyeing Allonia with a mixture of gratitude and suspicion. "I... thank you for bringing the priest here," she spoke to the assassin.
- "'S okay," said Allonia. "Look, it's a good thing if you keep an eye on Winski here, but could you excuse us now. I'd like to have a private discussion with Winski."
Jelena's eyes flashed a little, but she nodded and retreated. Allonia sat on Winski's bed and nailed her eyes into his.