Downtime: At The Heart Of It All

Even the lone candle of his quarters burned through his eyes, a nauseating luminescence as if all the streets of Brightstone shined as one. Each flicker of the solitary candle pierced his skull, and he struggled to navigate through the wreckage of his slovenliness to his cot, muttering curses at himself as he did so. Had it not been for Arden’s timely return - that morose savior having plucked both Alex and himself from the deluge - he was uncertain they would have made it back to Nightmarket, their bodies both nearly broken by the meddling of the witch-girl Quellyn . Why did we leave her with the boy? Damnable fools that we are! His fondness for Adric, the plight of the group's two small charges reminded him of his loss, had of late become problematic. At least we have the small mercy of Mara having sense to keep herself out of trouble, god forbid we had the two of them gallivanting throughout Doskvol.

He resisted the urge to seek the solace his cabinet might provide, nearly depleted as it was, he was certain he'd find something to ease his pain. However, he needed to be in full command of his facilities if he was to offer any respite to Alex and the boy. He just needed a little time to gather his thoughts, and after he could tend to his own wounds. It was clear Adric had suffered some baleful assault from the girl, she was clearly the stronger of the two Whispers, and they had paid the price for their lapse in judgment, nearly losing their lives because of it. Though it seemed they had a prize of sorts, but could Seven be trusted? Thrust forth as she was from that malstrom into their company, her lot now thrown in with the Night's Feathers. Another orphan created by the City.

He was unsettled by the events under the bridge, how easy it had been to set those devices that ripped through the bodies of both Billhook and Wraith, stone and metal indiscriminate to the flesh that they met. He had seen death at his hands before, but only as the result of a worthy adversary, disease or time claiming a victory from him; though perhaps there had been times when his mind was too addled by his inclination for self medication, a helping hand to ease his racing mind, or to focus himself with unnatural vitality... Had he now passed a line he could not return from? His recent friendship with Roethe, despite the issue of the man's Iruvian heritage, had provided him the pretence of normalcy, and he greatly enjoyed the formality of his lessons at the school.

He was grateful for Alex’s protestations against Arden’s vulgar suggestion of torture, physical or otherwise. Whether or not Arden had intend to carry out her threat, it was not the mark a gentleman such as himself should bear. No matter how low his fortunes had sunk, was he not still deserving of his heritage? However, Tertius did admire her singular focus, and the remaining Wraiths were a threat that needed to be dealt with. If only I had some time with Arden, did she feign her memory loss to guard herself from us? Was she truly a tabula rasa, what seed was left in that fleshy hull, what shadows remain of her former self? It’s almost as if she is an echo.

He would have offered Seven and the others a peaceful passing if they had reached an impasse, but he was glad circumstances had saved the further staining of his hands. Cutting Seven free and pushing her to safety was a just and fair act, regardless of what protests his body now made. Alex's steadfastness in the face of the tempest hinted at a strength of character, though Alex presented another curiosity that required greater inspection, just as Arden and Adric did. What remarkable malleability they have with both form and speech, they have many personalities and Arden has almost none? Or are they both empty vessels? 

Downtime: The Waker of Sleeping Souls II

Tertius collected the assortment of papers and alchemical ephemera scattered across the room - instruments of what had transpired to have been a four day revery of his senses - and the room beginning to take on some form of normalcy. As he did, so too did his thoughts become ordered, settled, he found a composure of sorts, and he is voice was again steady; the slight exertion acting as if a refreshing tonic.

“A man of my means and station can not afford the niceties that tenure brings.” He said, placing a bruised copy of Velak’s guide to Toxiferous Lepidoptera of Tycheros upon the desk. The book bulging and distend by paper markers, signposts to what would reveal his journey these past few days.

“You asked for my assistance, and I have provided.” He gestured to papers that Malista held, still seated upon the bed, upon the raft that had borne him on those dark waters these past four days. “And, I may add, I have not asked anything of you, despite what you had proffered.”

Malista looked up as she idly thumbed the papers in her hands. She smiled, an innocent disarming expression, as if slightly bemused with a child.  

“Between us, these things are a trifling matter. They are for a friend who can ill afford…” She paused, searching for the words “Association with questionable activities. Activities that could sully her good name.”  She placed the papers beside her and moved across the room towards Tertius.

“I will not feign understanding of the scope and nature of your work, but my... friend... is well placed to understand the value of your learning.” She stopped before him, lightly resting her hand upon his chest, before gently lifting a finger to his downturned chin. She slowly raised his gaze back to hers. Ordinarily an act he would have found too forward, too familiar  had it not been for the demure smile she now paid him.

“You will never regain the life you have lost, but perhaps my friend might provide you with some semblance of that life. A new purpose?” her smile grew wider, and now beamed. His return, a weaker one.

“You should not involve yourself with this, it is unseemly.” He said, the weak smile collapsing under the seriousness of his tone. “I have little to lose. But you...” He paused, uncertain if he rested on a statement. “Even those half formed ideas would bring ruin upon you.” His words pulled him down, and he slumped upon the chair. She guided his head towards her, into the soft folds of her linen dress, stroking his hair as she did. The fabric was soft and cool against his cheek, her sweet scent filled him.

“You should rest, you’re still weak.” She said, crouching down before him, again looking up at his downcast eyes. "You should not be afraid to show me what quiets your mind. "

Downtime: The Waker of Sleeping Souls I

The voices in the room were soft and indiscernible, on the periphery of Tertius’s awareness, the vestiges of the last soporific he’d ingested still gripping his senses. As if cast adrift at sea, he fought for purchase onto the voices as if flotsam, tumbling in the waves of consciousness as he struggled up from the heavy waters of sleep. His clothes, his dreams weighing him down and back under away from wakefulness. With one last kick, he pushed himself up breaking the surface of sleep, back into the dimly lit room somewhere in Silkshore.


He struggled to right himself on the bed, clothes slick with perspiration, shielding his eyes from the weak candle light that lit the room. Eyes now too sensitive after many an indulgent and impatient experiment. How many hours had it been since he’d ingested the lotus seeds? 6, 12 hours, a day?

“You’re awake?”

He recognised the voice that came from the figure seated beside the desk. She turned, curtly nodding towards the doorway, and a shadow turned, gently closing the door behind it. The slight figure of the girl stood slowly, pulling her simple, but fine white dress up as she walked towards the bed, lightly tiptoeing her way through the papers and books strewn across the floor. The candle she held out as if to help find her way through the maze of detritus Tertius could not fully recall having created. He winced as the candle light fell upon him.


“I thought you had learnt to temper your proclivities for…” She said, her words trailing off as she cast her eyes across the room, finding a space to sit at the end of the bed.

“Malista, your low opinion of me is misplaced, I’ve...this is, the, the necessities of study, not of pleasure” He said, his voice dull and parched as he pulled himself up to face her.

They held each other’s gaze momentarily. He took in that piquant and familiar face that oft reminded him of his mother. The long black hair that hung loose across her shoulders, sharp nose, framing large inquisitive, at times playful blue eyes… eyes that belied the strength of will behind them. Malista studied him in turn, his eyes, those two shining points of light that burned bright in the weak light, lustrous despite his recent return to consciousness from whatever substances he had drowned his senses in.

He does have have our look She thought. The slight features of his mother and her hair, he could easily pass, should easily pass for... despite those eyes... what else marks you Tertius?

“You mistake admonishment for concern my dear Tertius.”  She adjust herself, and reached out a hand to push back the damp hair clinging to his brow, smiling as she did.

“Whatever the causes of your present circumstances, I was glad that we found each other again. I’ve always been concerned for your health, I think fondly of you dear cousin.” She noticed his eyes sharpen slightly at the word cousin.

As abruptly as Tertius had entered her life, he had left it. Those few short years after he had arrived from Tycheros, rife with rumour and innuendo, turning quickly to accusation had lead him away from a comfortable existence ensconced within the family home, and away from his place in the academy. Though the trouble he had so readily embraced at the academy, propelling him into his current predicament, were orchestrated through a fastidiousness that clearly earned him the right to the family name.

To think in this past year her life had changed so radically too, and a fire now burned in her mind. And Tertius, who nearly found himself as kindling for that blaze, was going to help that fire of the mind, a fire that burned and consumed completely.

“Now cousin, please do enlighten me” She said.