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A Tale of Two Mages: Part 9


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#1 Guest_Ophidia_*

Posted 08 August 2004 - 05:03 PM

An Enjoyable Partnership: A Tale of Two Mages


Part Nine

Unusually, Edwin was the first to wake up the next morning. For a second, he lay half-asleep, vaguely listening to the birdsong and wondering what the heavy weight on his chest was. Then, as consciousness slowly returned, he realised that it was Nalia, draped over his side and lying half on top of him, her arm snuggled around his waist. For a moment he froze in shock, until the memories of the previous night returned.

Yes, they had made love, wonderful, serene love, love like nothing he had experienced before. He didn’t regret it, not for an instant. He had been drunk, but then, so had she. This morning, all that was left of yesterday’s enjoyment was a dry mouth and a slight headache. He looked around for the glass of water he kept by his bedside, but he couldn’t reach it without waking Nalia. He had to admit, though, the drunkeness had probably helped, rather than hindered, his performance. He had taken many lovers in the past, but none since he had met Nalia (the idea of her eavesdropping on every single sensation was simply a complete turnoff), and it had been a long time to sleep alone. The wine had helped, but the self-control he had developed as a mage sometimes came in useful in other areas, too…

He looked down at her sleeping face, pillowed on his shoulder. Her braided hair spread over his chest, half covering it. He smiled fondly at her in the morning light, the unusually soft expression going unseen. Their lovemaking had been enjoyable, true, but it had been so much more than that. To share such intimacy with someone he liked, respected, and possibly even admired, went so much deeper than the mere physical satisfaction of carnal needs. To trust, and to be trusted. He closed his eyes in bliss.

He felt relaxed this morning, more than he had done in a long time. It wasn’t just the fading euphoria of the previous night, either. Yesterday, while sewing the grey silk robe, he had realised something else:

He was not going insane.

It was, of course, the rakshasa. Somehow, they had to be causing this attack, deliberately trying to torment him. That meant they were close and likely to strike soon, but he preferred the thought of that danger to the idea that he was losing his mind. He would fight the rakshasa, inside and out. Remember reality, and fight the madness, for as long as he possibly could. He could keep the whispers at bay, he knew it, even if he still couldn’t face the mirror. It was still getting worse, frighteningly quickly, but he would keep in control. Reality. That was what was important. Now he had an enemy he could fight against, and a new sensation flooded his mind:

Hope.

Nalia stirred, mumbling slightly, then opened her eyes. She looked around herself confusedly for a few seconds, then up at Edwin.

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and smiled. “Morning.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll go.” He said in tired resignation.

“What?” She said, lifting herself up to look at him.

“You were drunk and regret last night; you wish it had never happened; it was all a mistake.” Edwin said, like a mantra. “Women always say such in the morning. Why are you laughing?”

She rolled onto her back and grinned at the ceiling. “No reason. I was, well, a bit tipsy, I know, but…I think it was bound to happen. I do like you, Edwin, you know.”

“You do?”

“I don’t regret last night.”

“You don’t?”

“It was rather, um, good.”

“It was?”

She rolled back over and looked at him. “Why, do you regret it?”

“What? No!”

“Well then.” She said, and then frowned sadly. “I never thought…that is, as a noble, I was expected to marry someone with a good estate, or lots of money. You know, to make an alliance. I thought the only reason anyone would ever want me would be to get an heir.” She finished bitterly. “It’s not like anyone could ever be interested in me.”

“Amn is a barbaric country!” Edwin declared.

“You’re from Thay, and you think Amn is barbaric?” She sighed.

“Well, my dear Nalia, Amn’s loss is my gain.” Edwin said, lying back with his eyes closed.

“You mean that?”

Edwin opened one eye and looked at her. “Of course.”

Nalia rolled back on top of him and kissed him quickly, on the lips. He shivered in anticipation, but she threw the covers back and got up, still naked in the cool morning air.

“Ahh, I’m all stiff after last night!” She said, stretching luxuriously.

“I am stiff too, but for a different reason.” Edwin said with heavy lidded eyes, looking appreciatively at her from the bed.

“I remember that from when I was male.” She remarked, sitting down and running her hands through her hair. “I was always, um, tense, in the morning.”

“Nalia, please!” Edwin said, sitting up in dismay.

“What?”

“That is truly not an alluring thought!”

“Really?” She said with a wicked grin, reaching down to him. “Then we shall have to find something that is.”

***


There was utter blackness down here, and the air was musty. No one ever went there, though, and that made it a perfect meeting place.

“It progresses well,” Ruhk Ihtafeer remarked, holding a shimmering globe of light in his clawed hands. The rakshasa greedily watched Nalia and Edwin’s gentle acts of intimacy, played out within the scrying globe. “They suspect nothing.”

“This is very enjoyable, Master.”

“Indeed it is!” Ihtafeer said, smiling ferally. The light from the globe sparkled on his long sharp teeth. “Naïve fools, they shall suffer greatly at our hands. Such sport!”

“Then we shall feast!” A voice hissed from the darkness.

“And feast well. The Flail has truly found us some excellent prey. But first, we must tighten the screws again…”

***


Nalia eventually wandered down to breakfast in the Great Hall, strolling casually down the stairs, rather than running down them as she normally did. As soon as Nalia entered, she was greeting by various calls and cheers.

“Lovely Ball, my Lady!”

“We had a wonderful time, Lady Nalia!”

“Such an enjoyable event in the Season!”

“Your bards were superb, Miss Nalia!”

“Oi, Nalia, get your arse over here!”

Nalia looked around in surprise. Andorel waved at her from a crumb-covered trestle table. For some reason, his party had managed to get a table to itself. He invited her to sit down by brushing various ballistic food particles from the bench.

“Where’s that daft wizard of yours?”

“Still getting dressed, I think.” She replied nonchalantly, avoiding looking at the half-orc’s face.

Andorel grinned. “Yeah, right.”

“We have called you over to us this morn to discuss possible plans of attack for dealing with the threat of the rakshasa.” Keldorn said, giving Andorel a brief stern glance. “We feel it is important to devise a strategy before we face these black fiends.”

“Plans aren’t always a good idea.” Jan remarked while buttering some toast. “For instance, my Uncle Ronaus had a plan to cover the world in a second darkness. You see, he had very weak eyes, and the sun made them go so bloodshot you wouldn’t believe. You’d almost have thought they were flaming, it was that bad! He also got sunburnt very badly as a child, and well, maybe it left him a little twisted. Anyway, his plans all came to nought- the haberdashery didn’t have a million miles of black canvas in that day.”

There was a brief silence. Valygar cleared his throat. “Is that it?”

“No, I could tell you about his elvish girlfriend, if you like. What was her name, now? Ended in –iel, I think, but then all these elvish names do.”

“Jan?” Valygar asked

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” He said, and pointedly turned away from the gnome.

“The point is that these rakshasa are very powerful creatures. If we fight them unprepared, the end is but nigh.” Anomen said.

“Ok, so what works well against these rakshasa guys?” Andorel asked. There was a brief silence. “Minsc? I thought you’d say something about cold steel and buttkicking.”

Minsc lay with his head down on the table. “Minsc does not feel well this morning.”

“Gods! Who let him near the brandy last night?”

“You did, Andorel.” Anomen said tartly. “And I had to share a room with him, may I add.”

“Well, I’d guess he slept well.”

“Yes, he did, after vomiting all over the floor.”

“Oh no, he didn’t, did he? That room will smell for tendays!” Nalia exclaimed. “The servants will never get it properly clean again.”

“I suspect we are getting rather sidetracked here.” Keldorn said. “We need to know what techniques we shall need to take down this foul menace.”

“Well, rakshasa are immune to magic, I know that much. My cousin…”

Just the facts, Jan. Skip the family history.”

“They’re immune to magic.” He said in a slightly hurt tone.

“So that leaves out you and Eddie, I guess.” Andorel said briskly. “How about metalware?”

“Only the greatest magical artefacts can cut the skin of a rakshasa.” Keldorn said. “I doubt we possess anything powerful enough.”

“What about the Flail of the Kindred?” Anomen asked.

“No, that won’t work.” Nalia said in a disappointed tone. “I read about that the other day. It doesn’t work on rakshasas- they made it that way on purpose.”

“Great, perfect. So in other words, we’re screwed.” Andorel remarked morosely, picking at his fried egg.

“I can ask Edwin, he might know something.” Nalia looked at the stairway briefly. “I don’t know where he’s got to, he was getting dressed when I…um…”

“When you what?” Jan asked with a grin. Nalia went a deep red. Anomen gave a disapproving sniff, while Keldorn simply sighed and looked resigned. Minsc fell asleep, head on the table.

“That is…I think he was…I could hear movement in his room. When I went past on my way here.”

“It’s in the opposite direction to the stairs.”

“Well, I had to check on all the guest rooms, you see…” Nalia muttered desperately.

Andorel waved Jan silent. “Edwin won’t have any ideas, anyway. Biggest waste of space in Toril, he is.”

“He is not!” Nalia said hotly, then stopped in embarrassment. Why did it matter to her what they said about Edwin? She insulted him all the time, after all. Somehow, though, they didn’t have the right to. “I wonder where he’s got to, anyway?” She mused.

***


Edwin closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it of the whispering. After Nalia had left the room, it had got a lot worse. It was very bad indeed. The worst it had ever been.

Reality. Remember reality. The rakshasa. Fight it.

He stood up, his new robe rustling. Why had he changed from wearing red? It seemed such an odd thing for him to do. He had always loved red. Hadn’t he? He hated the colour now, though he couldn’t say why. This simple grey robe was more fitting, more apt. Gods! It was getting harder and harder to organise his thoughts.

You’re Edwin Odesseiron. Don’t let them win.

The mirror was beckoning him again, drawing him to look into its depths. Why? Why should the mirror care? It hated him, he knew that. No, a mirror couldn’t hate him. Could it? This one could. It did. Unwilling, fighting every inch of the way, he spun slowly around to face it, and looked at his reflection.

Don’t look, don’t see! Close your eyes. Look away, look away NOW!

His reflection looked back at him. Its eyes glittered with malevolence, following his every move. Of course it followed his every move, it was a mirror, you fool. A sheet of silvered glass, that was all. An inanimate object. His skin was so pale, almost the white of well-pressed vellum. His hair stuck out at awkward angles, as yet unbrushed this morning.

This isn’t real, none of it is real! Listen to me!

His hair curled around his mirrored face, writhing as if it was alive. He gasped in horror, but he still couldn’t look away. Trapped, trapped by the wraith in the mirror. The wraith who was also him. Distantly, he heard Nalia calling in his mind. She seemed so far off that she didn’t matter. He couldn’t hear what she said. Maybe she had never existed.

She does matter, she is part of your reality. Remember!

His eyes dropped down to the small scabbard on his belt. He undid the leather flap, and took out his small dagger. It was the only weapon he owned and had been a birthday present from Master Dekaras. The handle was golden and set with diamonds, and the blade slightly curved. It fitted into his hand so perfectly. The blade was so sharp. Sharp, sharp edges that glittered in the wintery light. Simple. Clean. The knife could change everything. Edwin smiled at the beauty of its spare cruelty.

None of this is real! Fight it. This isn’t reality. Fi…

The inner voice was finally silenced. The fight was lost. Edwin smiled another blank smile, and raised the sharp edge of the dagger to his throat.

Edwin? Nalia called, but he didn’t hear. She didn’t matter.

Edwin, where are you? So distant, so far away.

Edwin!

EDWIN!




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