Borrowing Back Taken Magic

[Talion]

After several moments of lying in a pool of harsh-smelling purple fluid, Talion managed to lift his head off of the cold stone pavement. Vomit dripped from his pale skin, further staining his dirty cloak.

The new voice of Master had spoken to him again but as before, he chose to ignore this voice. He was still confused as the reason behind the change or the meaning behind it but was positive that it must be some sort of test. Yes, that's it, a test. Master was testing him, he wanted to explore the limits of his loyalties after his latest bout of defiance. If that is what this was, Tal was not about to let the Master down.

Slowly, he pulled his arms up under him and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wouldn't ask for any help and neither would he accept any for the crowd that he had drawn upon himself. "I'm fine." He grumbled.

To pass his test, Talion would have to help himself.

When the onlookers seemed to have grown bored of the spectacle, they returned to their previous engagements and he was left to drag himself off to a dark cover to rest. With the vomit, he had lost a good deal of his energy as well as his high. Damn, well that was a waste.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against a corner of an old building. The others could continue their search but for now, he was going to rest and regain his strength before nightfall.

[Yyan]

“You must be the expert on these matter,” Yyan’s employer said. “My powers do not include healing, and perhaps it would be best to do as you say.”

Yyan frowned, uncertain, and glanced at their ill companion. Lessons with Hyalith had rarely included healing, though she had possessed some skill with it. It just hadn’t been his calling.

“I’m fine,” the pale man grumbled then, and shook himself free of Yyan’s grasp. He made his own way, trailing after their majestic female leader, and leaving Yyan to bring up the rear. Once in the alleyway, he made it clear that he preferred to keep to himself just then, and for his part Yyan was inclined to let him do just that.

“Here for a time, maybe. It's not the Chalice, though that isn't a wonderful haven anyway, but it will do. Now, what do you think is wrong with him, Yyan?”

Once again Yyan studied the young man huddled in the shadows. He made his reply solely to her, preferring to keep such observations private. For starters, mistress? Lack of proper food and shelter, and a sickening addiction to destructive herbs and medicines. Yyan had observed similar behaviour in the poorer districts of his old home, and it had always left him feeling disgusted. And then… there is something else. No doubt our companion is not altogether sane, but there is a black, harmful influence wrapped about him. His talk of demons and masters… it might be all in his mind, and then it might not.

[Tsaikatlaua]

Tsaikatlaua nodded. She could see what Yyan meant, and there was a certain air about the sick man that screamed out darkness. Not, of course, that Tsaikatlaua particularly cared about what the man's illness was or what he claimed lay in his head. All she deigned to care about was her book, her god's token trapped away in this dry, disgusting, magic-fearing land.

"Very well. I do not mind insanity, as long as the insane may keep it well enough together to complete tasks. It is not entirely impossible, and I trust our friend here will do as such." It was spoken calmly and evenly, an expectation more than either a request or a concern.

Tsaikatlaua rummaged around in her small bag a few moments and pulled out a selection of herbs, crushing each under her nose and sniffing gently. Eventually she settled at one, a bluey-green leaf with softly serrated edges and red streaks. Rolling it between her fingers she ground it into a fine powder and held it beneath Talion's nose. "Sniff," she commanded, then explained, "It is a mild poison, but giving in this dosage it will ease some physical pain and perhaps lend a bit of mental clarity. To you, it will produce a feeling of your high from before."

[Talion]

Tal was a bit weary of the demon-woman as a part of his mind was convinced that it was the strange drugs that this woman had given him that had made him so ill. The high that he had received from the first batch of herbs she gave him was different from the that that he would normally indulge in. They could be a variation from her own land.

"Or it could just be her way of trying to kill you." The lizard who skill hung about him took this opportunity to speak up.

He debated with himself over what to do, the one part said to trust the demon for it would appease Master and Master would never lead him to harm and the other said not to trust her for she was not Master. If only he would speak up and not with that new voice of his.

The way she looked at him, with all of that gold dangling from her body and that look in her eyes like she would finish him off like she did with the girl, Tal could not refuse her. He had to do as she wanted and at best, he would hope that Master had planned this all along.

He leaned forward, with one hand placed on the pavement for support and inhaled the powder set before him. It was a strange feeling having the drug burn the inside of his nostrils on their short trip up to the brain. He felt a popping sensation and a numbness grow within his face before the calm hit him.

It was a calm feeling more intense then he had ever received from smoking the stuff. It hit him harder then it had ever done before. It was so calming, so peaceful. He could rest his head back against the wall and lose all of his cares, and that exactly what he did.

[Anther]

"It's not enough." The words were declared with a trembling voice and a hint of stubbornness, but from the lips of Rue that meant there was no swaying her to any other opinion.

Anther let his face lean into one of his thin hands, and tried not to sigh as the Yoger stared rebelliously at their bully-girl and Sagath flipped a dulled knife between his fingers. There was quiet then, as only Yoger dared to stare down Rue, who was meatier than all of them, if only by a bit. Anther still had growing to do, if they'd find the food to let him.

"No." Yoger said in a clipped tone. He was the one to look away first.

"Fisti kept y'out agin last night, didn't 'e?" Rue taunted.

"Shut up." Yoger said.

"I got to eat!"

"Yeah, so do I!" Yoger had advanced a step towards the girl, and her expression had turned from ugly to vicious in the space of a heartbeat.

"C'mon then. Think you're so great? Take it, then, c'mon!" She spread her arms wide, and lifted her chin as though to give Yoger a free shot. His face turned dark, and with a grunt he tackled her to the floor. They began to wrestle, and the first of many fistfalls made unpleasant thumps that would beget bruises before the night was through.

Sagath stood, and started to walk to the door as Anther turned gloomily away from the spectacle. A thrill of alarm made him sit straight. "Sagath?"

"I'm not going to waste my night with you losers."

Sagath had reached the door before Anther had moved to clutch a tin cup half full of watered-down whisky and threw it at the yet struggling combatants. Rue yowled like a struck cat, and with a last shove forced Yoger away from her long enough that she could bristle at Anther. "I jes washed this shirt las' week, y'beggar!"

Anther shook his head. "I'm going to follow Sagath through the merchant's corner alley." He said, despite Sagath's annoyed face. "Rue need stay and guard."

She spat to the side, eyes glittering.

"Yeah? I'm going too." Yoger scrambled to his feet and stalked to the door. Sagath let him pass with a smirk only brats could pull off, and Anther gave Rue one last look before he followed the two out. They were all hungry.

__

Anther had known that trying to wrest more territory from the larger dens had been a bad idea. They all had. Yet for survival, they'd dance with any odds that seemed remotely favorable. They hadn't met with much success, though they had gotten the smaller dens to back off and stay away from their own cut of beaten down homes and market day wares. Expand their territory, but to what end? There were only four of them, and they had a hard time competing against hunger, much less other young adults and kids who were just as desperate and just as hungry.

Some of them would go on to gangs. Some of the larger dens would turn into gangs. And then what? Be cleaned up by Marn's guards, and thrown into prison. Or killed. No one really gave a shit about what happened to kids without families, much less what became of them when they grew into adults.

Anther's stomach was tight and painful with hunger. Going through Merchant's Corner Alley was a good way of getting caught by guards, but that was why they had Sagath to wheedle them out of trouble. Problem was, Anther had no idea how far they could trust the boy. If it'd benefit him enough, Anther was sure Sagath would betray them all in a heartbeat.

They were lucky when they made it through the Alley, which was really just a small road, without seeing any guards. Fiski's crew had kept them on their toes for days, waiting in packs of three or four to ambush Anther's den at their favorite take spots. The Alley would be considered poaching from Leeger's den, but with the ever uneasy tide of snarling children vying for scraps it was likely the three of them would remain unnoticed. Hopefully.

They paused in the lee of a decrepit doorway -- its occupants long given way to the occasional gutsy beggar -- and stared at each other with nervous eyes.

"I'm not going to thieve with you two." Sagath declared abruptly, though even he was trembling with fatigue or hunger. Anther figured it for the latter.

Yoger sighed loudly, leaning back into the old stone with a beleaguered air. Anther could make out a blossoming bruise on the boy's jaw, and a scratch down the side of his face. "I'll take the alleys behind the market." Anther said quickly, hoping to forestall another argument. He was too tired to listen to it. Yoger sighed again.

"I'll keep watch 'round the market then. Sing if y'need help."

Sagath had left before Yoger had finished speaking, and soon Anther was alone as he walked past the market's brisk streets and into the alleys that decorated the area like a necklace of bruises on a whore's throat. They were that appealing.

He stalked the alleyways with caution and an awkward grace that was faintly reminiscent of a drunkard's swagger, and was careful to keep his face averted always from attention or curious stares. He was ragged enough to earn scorn from most, and though his battered pride raged feebly in his head he was downtrodden enough to forget about silly things like 'pride.' But it still galled him.

He passed a few slumped figures that were too far gone to even consider fingering for valuables (any worse off than he, Anther figured, were not worth any time), and in the hollow of two buildings that had seen better days he came across an odd scene that made him hesitate behind an abandoned cart.

Even in dim light and a haze of dust and old pipe smoke, he knew gold when he saw it. But more than that, he knew opportunity, and ducked down with a vague hope he hadn't been seen. The slumped figure -- perhaps a castoff of the girl? -- would likely net a fine prize, but the third upright figure was what made Anther decide to wait. He was in no condition to fight anyone healthy and potentially dangerous, not even with his scrappy knives.

[Yyan]

Yyan watched as their pale companion’s face took on a look of such serenity, all traces of tension or trembling melting away like wax, that he found himself almost jealous. He remembered having such moments of peace, enfolded in the secret love of his surrogate mother, but in these cheerless days those memories seemed like reflections in a dirty mirror. A surge of grief brought a hand to his shirt, where Hyalith’s necklace lay hidden against his skin. He missed her so much…

Turning his back on his companions for a moment, Yyan let his gaze rove over the marketplace. The chill of the morning air seemed less piercing now, a welcome improvement. He pressed his palm against his forehead, then the side of his neck. The fever was finally gone. Now he was just hungry.

There was a flash of movement as Yyan turned back into the alleyway. There… by that large crate. It might have been nothing, but he highly doubted it. A smile twitched the corner of his mouth; he had wondered how long his mistress’s gold would attract attention.

My lady, we are being watched, he reported. Just beyond the alley. Why don’t we let him be, see what move he makes?

After all, a thief was exactly what they were after…

[Tsaikatlaua]

Tsai nodded approvingly as Talion sniffed at the drugs. "There, that will clear your mind and stop whatever mental problems you have going on, at least for a little while."

Her eyes slowly glanced over to Yyan, and she stifled one of those cat-got-the-canary smiles again. "Then I think, my friend, all we must do is wait." She chose her words reletivly carefully, as she didn't want to tip off the potential theif that she was ready and aware that they were being watched.

She let her gaze drift away and cloud over, leaning against a wall. It was easy enough to relax because she rarely felt danger since she had been blessed--she was powerful, she knew it, and she knew how to use it. She stretched lazily, rolling her shoulders back and setting the gold to sparkling in the weak sunlight filtering down from the narrow split of the roof. She played with a few of the bangles, the cuts in the metal shimmering and causing mini specks of yellow light to dance off the walls of the two buildings.

With a sigh she shook her thick braid out of her face and looked down again at Talion. "Tell me, what drug is it you normally take?"

[Talion]

For several moments Talion continued to rest his heavy head against the crumbling stone wall. The old stones still held some of the cold of the previous night which soaked through the thinning, weather-beaten cloak that covered him. After spending the night in overly humid residence of the demon-woman adorned in gold, the goosebumps that rose against the pale skin of his neck and down his spine where rather comforting.

Though the surface of the stone was rough and scratched through his clothing, Talion remained within his drug-induced state of peacefulness. This new drug had quieted many of the more obscure voices around him and seemed to chase away most of the haunting birds or at least enough so that he need not be bothered by their confusing displays of grace and agility. For now it seemed as if they had gone on to a new place to leave him be.

It wasn't until the calm had spread over his entire body that he had fully understood exactly how much of a relief it was. Somehow he had been managing to ignore the pain that had accumulated within his left leg from walking on it most of the day before. The drug made him take notice of the throbbing within his muscles before it worked to ease it to a manageable annoyance but he wondered how he had managed to go so long without feeling the ache from his damaged limb.

"Now is not the time to be pitying yourself"

Master was right. At least the old Master had stuck with him. His high, this new peaceful high, would be much more frightening if he did not have his mentor by his side to protect him.

Talion glanced up at the cloaked figure through hazy eyes that seemed as if they knew not which color they wanted to be. One moment his eyes would glow a amber-gold, only to fade to a more natural green color. Tal was only partially aware of the change as it made the edges of his vision fuzzy every few moments, making it that much harder to considerate on his companions before him.

Now was one of those times when he was secretly glad that Master liked to hide his face from him, he didn't have to see the demons eyes staring back at him like he did with the other one. Eyes were one of those things that he hated, everyone always stared at him with judging eyes. Eyes always watched him.

And then the calm hit him again.

He temporarily forgot about the townspeople and only vaguely recognized the existence of his other-worldly companions. The two of them had been speaking with one another or himself or about him but he hadn't been paying enough attention to know which.

"I'm glad you chased those damned birds away, a marketplace is no place for them."

[Anther]

Anther was not much of a thinking type, or else he might have paused to consider the implications of the scene before him. Certainly, it wasn't normal to stumble upon that type of setting; man slumped against a wall while a rich girl and a man stood by quietly and without much activity. Had he possessed the type of sharp mind to deduce the kind of situation such a scene might imply, he might have at the least sat and waited to see further what was going on. He might have figured out that they knew of his presence, or that he had no business sniffing around the heels of such people.

But he was a simple thief, with the scent of gold dominating his brain and shutting down what little common sense he'd accrued over the years. He was hungry, and desperate; those emotions could control many a man better than Anther would ever be.

He moved, stumbling out from behind his cover to ram into the wall. He gave a soggy sounding laugh: the hallmark of the drunkard. A snatch of a bawdy tavern song left his lips in a reasonably pleasant baritone (though his pitch was remarkably horrid), and he reeled back to catch himself against the opposite wall. He was good at portraying a drunk. He had to be, considering how often he himself carried out the act in actuality.

He began to sway his way over to the three figures, laughing in between snatches of songs and bald complaints that he was out of booze.

Closer and closer, hunks of hair hanging in his eyes to hide the desperation lurking there, he moved to the three. He didn't bother to gauge their expressions, but when he drew near enough to a level of them, he stumbled towards Tsaikatlaua with his hand on a dagger handle and a leer upon his lips. Smoothly, the dagger was pressed point first towards Tsaikatlaua's side, and one dirty hand pressed with strong grip upon her upper arm.

"Alms," he said in a mockery of those charitable poor-houses and the beggars who frequented them, "Alms for the poor?"

[Yyan]

Yyan wasn’t fooled by the drunken ploy and doubted his mistress was either. Whether their pale companion was aware of anything at all seemed suspect. Their would-be thief swaggered and reeled his way closer to their alcove, expecting to take unwary prey... and never suspecting that he was the fly being lured into the lair of the spider.

My lady, please, Yyan whispered to her. Allow me to take care of this. He couldn’t move as fast as her serpent form, but his survival depended upon his continued usefulness, and he was eager to demonstrate his skills before his powerful employer.

Letting his gaze rove casually over the approaching thief, he expanded his pupils, and his vision flooded with brightness. He blinked once slowly, and the world came into sharp focus. The thief still drew nearer, but his steps now seemed ponderously slow. Yyan shifted positions, feeling as if he moved through thick syrup. He watched the thief grip a knife and sidle right up to the young woman in gold.

The thief seized her arm. His mouth opened, and sound issued forth, but to Yyan’s ears it seemed stretched and distorted. He didn’t wait for the words to finish filtering into his mind; he slipped in behind the assailant and grabbed his wrist, digging his fingers into the tender flesh to try and loosen the grip on the knife. Yyan looped his free arm tightly around the thief’s neck.

His heart drummed against his ribs. He struggled to maintain the mind quicken, but he felt it slipping from his grasp. Locking his muscles as tight as he could, Yyan released the quicken. For an instant he felt a second presence within his thought, just behind his eyes. It withdrew the instant he became aware of it, but it seemed almost... pleased...

[Tsaikatlaua]

Tsaikatlaua's first impression of the man who drew near was that he was of a thieving cut, followed quickly by the thought that he needed a bath, desperately. When Yyan grabbed him she was surprised and a little pleased as well; whether it be from fear or a desire to prove himself, less work for her was always a good thing. She turned to the newly caught thief, wondering idly if he could breathe through the grip around his neck.

Tsaikatlaua knelt down and tore a strip of clothe from the hem of her skirts and bound the thief's feet with it, enough so that he could walk but not loose enough for running. Standing up again she leaned her weight onto one hip and wrinkled her nose. A slight smile danced across her face as she began to curl a fist in on itself. "Yyan, you may wish to stand back for a time, unless you like a soaking."

Opening her fist, a small, dark, and thickly wet raincloud released its contents on the hobbled man, the out-of-the-way alley providing adequate shelter for her use of magic. The laws regarding magic were pesty and annoying, and Tsaikatlaua had no wish to be caught up in the politics and become a prisoner for the simple use of an even simpler spell. "Now that the smell is taken care of," she began, "I would ask you a few questions, and if you would prefer death by either poison, fangs, suffocation, or perhaps another form, please specify it now, to save me tough decisions if you lie. Or if I think you lie. First, you are a thief--what is your skill level? Please disregard the fact that Yyan just caught you, and that you are hobbled now."

[Talion]

Talion remained dazed and a bit confused as he watched the spectacle unfold around him. Through partially hazy eyes, he watched an unknown street urchin not only approach the golden demon-woman but he tried to force himself on her.

What a huge mistake that was.

A small part of him almost felt sorry for this boy, it looked like he had been after nothing more then a good meal when he had stumbled upon the demons and was now going to be forced to do their will, much as he was. That same part of him, the part that made him cringe as he watched the guy lose the ability to move as he pleased, reminded him that he wasn't all that different then this man.

He too had been minding his own business when he had been forced into serving the Master and his demon mistress and he knew that they had only as long as they were deemed worthy to stay alive. The last thief had proven not to his liking and as such, Talion had helped remove of her but what was to happen when he lost his usefulness? and what of this new thief?

He wasn't fully sure why it was but there was something in the way the boy looked that made him think of himself, or maybe his brother. If he is even still alive. He wasn't that far off from trying to beg and steal to get by, he had tried it in the past and learned the hard way of just how dangerous a life it is.

Or maybe, he shuttered at the very thought, a part of the love and acceptance that his mother had preached had worn off on him. He doubted that truly was the case or that that love extended beyond the reaches of Darleone or even to all of its inhabitants but there still was a possibility that it could have influenced him in a way. No. He shook the thought out of his head.

"Why don't you leave the poor guy alone? Either you should let him go or get him involved in your plans. There's no need to insult him."

He picked his head up off the wall and made ready to stand again.

[Anther]

In a moment, Anther went from assured of a good meal to oh shit. If he'd had the time to think that, perhaps it would have been slightly more reassuring, but a quick turn of events left him sopping wet and dazed by the sheer celerity of it all. His first few thoughts after his capture (which he was still confused about what happened) were a jumbled mess of impressions and a collection of physical touch. His neck hurt. He dropped the knife, let go of the arm; both of his hands went up to his throat to claw uselessly at the hand there. It released him temporarily, in time for a deluge of water. A brief spurt of pressure and cold hit him, and then the voices that pressed upon his hearing seemed to demand his attention. He was grabbed again, made to stay still as the woman questioned him.

He reeled. Captured. His mind could not make sense of a simple take going so horribly wrong, and even though he got an eyefull of his captors his brain couldn't make sense of them as individual entities. Who would want him except for other thieves angry with him for trying to take on their territory?

"I -- I didn't know! Thought this was neutral, I swear it! Lemme go, I'll not do it again, I swear!" He choked the words out, coughing and spitting, and his eyes went from person to person. Were they Leeger's den? Shit, it only made sense.

"Please, jus' don't tell Leeger. Please!"

In his fear and panic, he didn't even hear Talion's admonition of the two dark figures who were looking at him like a predator eyes its prey.

[Tsaikatlaua]

Tsaikatlaua's head snapped over to Talion as he spoke, and her eyes narrowed. "I am getting him involved in my plans, drug-addicted one. Nothing is left to chance when it comes to bringing people into my confidence... such that it is. You should know that, and I strongly urge you not to contradict me unless you wish to go the way of our last thief." She kept her gaze leveled at him, then pursed her lips and flicked her head back to their new capture.

"As for you, Master Thief, I have no intention of turning you in to this Leeger person. I also trust that I have no idea what you mean by neutral, and I do no care if you steal again... in fact, you life will be spared by your talents. My name is Tsaikatlaua, you may call me Tsai, should we work together. There is an object I need, but my own powers do not include stealing, which is where you will come in."

She paused, observing the sopping wet thief in front of her. "However, your lack of response to my query is troubling. I will ask you again, how good of a thief are you? How long have you been stealing? And please, have no fear of me or my companions turning you into the government. We have no wish of being caught either."

[Yyan]

Quick reflexes saved Yyan from the thorough soaking their newest conscript was forced to endure. He dropped back to his mistress’s side, beneath the meager shadows of the alleyway, and studied the situation.

Yyan got the impression that the captured thief was around his own age, but fear and malnutrition made him look very young. Whoever this Leeger person was, he was obviously terrified of the possibility of running afoul of him.

Then his eyes traveled to his employer… Tsaikatlaua… Now he had a name to go with the figure. It suited her well, he thought, though he shied away from the thought of calling her aught else but “lady” or “mistress” for the time being. He watched her interrogate their thief, wondering if he looked the same when Tsaikatlaua had first caught him snooping around that shack...