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The Curse of Apathy: Part 6


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#1 Guest_Ophidia_*

Posted 23 April 2003 - 07:37 AM

An Enjoyable Partnership: The Curse of Apathy


Part Six

Feredain carefully placed a packet of dried belladonna into her saddlebags, and then added a short silver knife, wrapped in sacking, after it. It would soon be time to leave Athkatla and Amn far behind. No doubt the Odesseiron and Nalia de’Arnise would soon be dead. According to her estimates, they had mere hours left now. She wondered vaguely if they would suffocate first, or die of a combination of hunger, thirst and sleeplessness. Neither death was unpleasant as she would have wished for, but the curse was efficient, and Feredain admired efficiency.

Soon, then, her long hatred would be over. It had fuelled her for almost as long as she could remember. It had become a part of her life ever since she had left the slave compound- it was who she was. The worst part, she thought, was that she had been happy as a slave on the Odesseiron estates, with her mother, before she had been plucked away by the Thayvian nobility and forced to study magic. One who had never experienced freedom had no reason to miss it. She gritted her teeth silently. If only she could have hated magic, but it was not to be. She adored it, loved the power and loved the pure intellectual pursuit of excellence. If only she could have hated her studies. If only. No cage had bars as beautifully wrought as hers, the pleasure and pain, triumph and shame.

No more. Feredain picked up her saddlebags to test their balance. She would not be returning to Thay. Once this mission was complete, she would…disappear. Become an exile, and live her life free of ghosts, free of hatreds. The time away from Thay had given her time to think, and this was what she wanted. Perhaps she would go south to Calimsham and explore the desert, or maybe she would head north to Baldur’s Gate. She could be so much more than she was, and it was time to find out what she should have been. She looked down at her arms, swathed in the heavy, expensive cloth of her mage robe. Today would be the last day she ever wore red.

“Feredain.” A male voice called. She turned around, slowly. Nalia and Edwin stood before her, at the entrance to her room.

“Intriguing.” She said. “I am curious as to how you located me.”

“None of your business.”

“It matters little. It is obvious why you are here.”

“Are you going to remove the curse?” Nalia demanded.

“You expect that I would?” Feredain asked. “I can see that it has been effective. You are sickening and dying, even as I watch. Both of you. Your magical link was very useful. I presume it was accidental?”

“Um…”

“Of course it wasn’t!” Edwin declared, lifting his head with pride. “Together, we have great power, Nalia and I. You see, Feredain, she is my familiar!”

Nalia took a step forward boldly. “And I am his familiar.” She stopped and frowned in embarassment. “You know what I mean.”

Feredain cocked her head on one side and walked forward, radiating curiosity. “You have chosen each other as your familiars? Fascinating, and highly unusual.”

“Stay back!” Nalia warned. “Are you going to cancel the curse or not?”

“Of course not.” Feredain said, freeing her hands.

“Then there is nothing more to be said.” Edwin replied, starting to move his hands in a spell.

Feredain made a small gesture, and a series of protective shields sprang into glowing life around her, spells she had obviously prepared in advance. Edwin’s magic missiles fizzled harmlessly against them, and Feredain threw a fireball back at the two mages. They were blown off their feet and thrown against the wall, robes smoking. Nalia and Edwin stood up again, and they both cast protection-removing spells, two different ones that complimented each other perfectly. Feredain’s glowing shields collapsed under the onslaught. Nalia hastily hurled an acid arrow at her to try and disrupt her next casting, while Edwin fired another barrage of red missiles. The acid arrow hit her in the stomach, making her grunt and take a pace backwards. It fizzled briefly, and then Edwin’s missiles hit her, forcing her farther back. Feredain reached to her belt pouch and took out a healing potion, swiftly drinking it and before throwing up yet more sparkling shields around herself, so many that she could barely be seen within the orbs of energy.

Again, Nalia and Edwin broke down the shields with various breaching spells, but this time Feredain hit back with a horrid wilting spell. The room filled with grimy brown smoke, and the two mages collapsed onto the floor, panting for breath.

The spells affect us twice! We’re getting hit twice by these area spells, not just once! Our familiar link isn’t an advantage- it’s a weakness! Nalia called in panic.

I know, I know. Edwin responded. But we cannot let her win. She can’t win!

Again, they drank a potion each, and stood up to face Feredain, who was once more contained within yet more protective shields. So the battle continued: Nalia and Edwin ripping down shields, trying to form their own, dodging various magical projectiles, trying to hurt Feredain with their offensive casts, drinking potions, over and over. Their ability to simultaneously cast was an advantage, but they were also both hit when she cast a single offensive spell. It was rapidly becoming clear that they were hopelessly outmatched.

We can’t beat her, Edwin!

We can’t lose.

I’m running out of spells. Nalia replied desperately, resorting to using her staff. She brought it down on Feredain’s shields, but it just scraped off harmlessly, throwing up a shower of sparks.

Feredain simply continued casting spell after spell, not wasting time on taunts or battle cries, her expression one of calm concentration. Her hand darted out sideways, releasing a fire arrow that shot straight towards Edwin’s ribs. It hit him right in the centre of his chest with a crack and a hiss of extinguishing flames. He moaned and clutched at the arrow sticking out of his ribcage, dropping to his knees.

“Edwin!” Nalia shrieked.

“My amulet…” Edwin said in a daze, still clutching at the arrow. “You destroyed it.” he ripped the arrow out of his clothes, and stood up, teeth bared. “Now you die!”

He raised his hands to cast a fireball, then realised his mind was almost empty. With the destruction of his amulet, a huge portion of his memorized spells had simply vanished. He had only a handful of spells left, none of them very useful in combat. What to use, what to use? All he had left was the animate dead spell he had only memorised out of interest, and one final breach spell. No other choice. He started to cast it, while Nalia once again tried fruitlessly to hit Feredain with her staff. A shadowy form started to coalesce behind Feredain, a tall, spindly figure. Edwin said the last word of the spell, and it solidified into a mummy. He swore bitterly- What use would a puny mummy be in a confrontation between archmages?

Feredain strode forward silently, ready to cast one final spell on Edwin: finger of death, the same spell with which she had killed Degardan. In a final gesture, he tried, one last time, to dispel her shields. Her shields failed, but Feredain had already reached him, hand glowing with a bright white light that fizzed with power. As Edwin fumbled hopelessly for his dagger, she said nothing, and her face showed no emotion other than a quiet satisfaction.

She suddenly spasmed, arching backwards, her mouth open in pain as the mummy reached her and raked her back with its diseased claws. Her dark skin went a sickly grey colour as the infection, Feredain’s one weakness, bit deep. She dropped to her knees, hands clutched to her head, gasping for breath, unable to cast a single spell, then collapsed onto the floor, staring at the ceiling with rapidly dimming eyes.

Nalia and Edwin hurried over to her, Nalia still clutching her staff.

Edwin leaned over the fallen aasimar, and hissed. “Where is the curse talisman?”

Feredain smiled slightly. It was the first time Edwin had ever seen her smile. “You… expect me to tell you?” She started to shiver violently. “You…will not win, Odesseiron. You…have…not…”

She gave one final gasp, and her head fell loosely to one side. The silver glow of her eyes faded completely, revealing normal deep brown irises and pupils behind them. Human eyes. Nalia knelt down beside her and gently closed her eyelids.

“I guess that’s that.” She said.

Edwin fished inside his robe, and produced his amulet, now cracked, its gems shattered. He regarded it sorrowfully.

“You can’t fix it?”

“No.” He said, his expression bleak. Nalia patted his arm reassuringly, a gesture he totally ignored.

“We need to find that talisman.”

“No doubt she has it hidden on her person. It is the safest place for it.” Edwin said, kneeling down beside Feredain’s body and rummaging through her component pouches. “Here.” He said, fishing out two crossed twigs twined with ivy. He blinked uncertainly. “I have no spells left to destroy it.”

“Oh, honestly!” Nalia said in exasperation, and threw the talisman into the room’s fireplace. It crackled and popped, slowly burning into nothingness. She sighed in relief. “Safe at last.”

“Safe for now,” Edwin replied sourly.

“What do you mean?”

“There will soon be other Red Wizards come to hunt me down. Feredain is the third person to be sent out after me. The bloodcowls never let a renegade live.” He said with a certain harsh pride. “Look at this: she is wearing a ring of the Zulkirs. That means she could communicate directly with the Council. Thay regards me as important, you see. They will never stop hunting.”

Nalia felt like screaming. “You mean that, after all that, we’re still in mortal danger?

“Yes, but it may be months, even years, before the next threat arrives. We have time to gain more spells and prepare.”

Nalia stood up decisively. “No. No, I’m not going to live like this, always looking behind me, always threatened. Sweet Ilmater, I’m so tired…” She looked at Edwin soberly. “How good are you at acting?”

***


Feredain placed the ring on the table. It glittered in the candlelight of the darkening room. She gazed impassively at the floating image of the Zulkir of Conjuration that appeared.

Yl Tesslen dorkhren ytto?” The image asked.

“The Odesseiron is dead.” Feredain replied in Thayvian. She gestured quickly at the corpse at her feet. Edwin lay there, his eyes staring upwards sightlessly, skin pallid.

Good. You have done well. I presume you’ll be returning soon? The reward we discussed is waiting for you.”

“Serving Thay is reward enough. However, my return will be delayed. I intend to collect a sample of dragon’s blood before I come back. I know the whereabouts of a silver dragon lair.”

Really? Can you collect some for me? I’m running short of dragon’s blood, and the shops never have any. They say there’s no call for it.”

“Certainly.”

Then we’ll see you when you get back.”

“Farewell.”

The image blinked out. Feredain stood quietly for a few seconds, then shivered and shrugged off the illusion, revealing Nalia underneath. She picked up the ring from the battered table in the Copper Coronet bedroom they had hired. Edwin coughed and sat up, rubbing his face.

“Whose brilliant idea was it to use this vile white powder?”

“Yours. You’re good at acting dead, did you know that?”

“Hmm.”

“So,” Nalia sighed, “I guess that’s really it then. Thay thinks you’re dead, and your amulet is broken so they won’t figure out you’re still around. Feredain’s gone, and the curse talisman is destroyed.”

“Everything I worked for, gone.” Edwin said, staring at the floor for a moment, then raised his head. “I shall always be a Red Wizard, though, exiled or not. There are some things nothing can change.” He sighed, stood up, and staggered slightly.

“Ohhh…did you feel that?” Nalia said, clutching at her head. “I…feel…dizzy.”

Edwin went genuinely pale, without the help of talcum powder this time. “The curse. It’s still active. The talisman we destroyed- it must have been a counterfeit!”

“No, that’s not how it’s supposed to end!” Nalia cried, panting. “We beat her, this is unfair!”

“She said…she said we hadn’t won.” Edwin said, swaying. He grabbed hold of the doorframe for support. “She knew…she planned this, and… I know where she got the…idea from.”

Nalia sat down before her legs collapsed from under her. “I guess…we all lost.” She said, gasping. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and the world seemed to spin and warp around her. “Too late now.”

Edwin slid down the doorframe, onto the floor. “It…had to end…eventually. Years…of suffering…over.” He gasped for breath, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. In a sudden convulsive gesture, he grabbed at his chest, wrenched the cracked amulet off its chain, and threw it against the wall. It shattered. “Years of running. I beat Feredain. That… is all that matters. I was…I was better than her!”

“Edwin, I just have to say one thing. Our…time together has been, well…”

“No, don’t say it has been…fun,” Edwin groaned. “I couldn’t…stand that.”

“Actually, I was…going to say that it’s been vile. We seem to have spent the… whole time getting cursed…”

“…poisoned…”

“…beaten up…”

“…polymorphed…”

“…but, but, I can’t think of anyone who’d make a better… familiar than you.” She finished softly, eyelids drooping.

Edwin smiled back sadly, and offered Nalia his hand. She took it and held it tight. His voice faded to nothing more than a weak whisper. “Then… our time together… has… not… been… wasted.” He collapsed sideways onto the floor. Nalia closed her tired eyes, toppled off the chair to land beside him and they breathed no more.

In a drawer, far away in the Mithrest Inn, the genuine curse talisman crumbled into dust, its purpose served.




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