Private Tales A Cordial Negotiation

[Elliot Aldmar]

Elliot did not delude himself. The Lamia had accepted his proposal, but certainly not for the reasons Elliot had at heart for instigating such a war. The great serpent's laugh was evidence enough of that. But Nysia knew as well as Elliot did: that in discord there was potential. In strife, opportunity. Elliot had something to gain, she had something to gain, and both acting in accordance with their differing self-interests would form the basis of trust between them.

Nysia had her own ends, and now, these ends had their place in what must be done.

This was what so few understood. What so few lacked the will, the courage, the intestinal fortitude to endure. What must be done. The oppression in Dornoch, in Oban, had been perpetuated for centuries, and it sickened Elliot to his core. Soft, peaceful attempts to change the status quo had all obviously met with undeniable failure. And thus the sons of Dornoch, the daughters of Oban, marched on in their chains, their suffering aided and abetted by everyone around them. And they would bear more sons, more daughters, and perhaps even shackle their children themselves. So it would continue, because it was simply being allowed to continue.

Allowed. Because peace was too weak to change anything, and because "good" men, "good" women, strove for peace because they abhorred war. In so abhorring war they gave tacit permission to the oppressors they refused to fight. Their own consciences had turned them into accomplices.

They refused to see the truth. That war was necessary. That all the inevitable casualties of war--innocent men, women, and even children--were necessary. Each and every one of them, necessary, once the dust settled. One child's blood would perhaps purchase the freedom of dozens. More and more, as the new centuries to come would see an Arethil in which the Dornoch and Oban of today were gone. Changed forevermore, both cities, or as dust lining the Allirian Strait.

Elliot glanced at Nysia's tail.

Back up to her.

And he extended his hand. For her to present or brand him with her mark, or simply to seal the proposal with a shaking of their hands.

"I will," Elliot said. "I'll keep you apprised of my progress, and send word prior to the instigation of war."

Nysia Srivani Siegewright Zilvra

 

[Nysia]

The serpent did not answer, but simply smiled.

Then suddenly her tail whipped forward. It lashed within the span of a breath, reaching out and cutting across Elliot's wrist. It wrapped around his arm almost completely, and then constricted. He would feel his muscles shift, his bones pressed, and then a burning sensation unlike anything else he had felt before.

There was pain, yes, but more than that.

It burned through his flesh, into his blood, and through the very soul. The feeling rushed through the whole of him, marking, branding.

Then the grasp upon his arm suddenly slipped free. Nysia dragged her tail back onto the ground and away from the Drow. She shifted, the fan fluttering calmly back and forth within her hand. A smile sat upon her face, cool and calm confidence.

"Wonderful." She purred.

When Elliot looked down he would notice a mark now within his flesh. It was not branded or tattooed, but seemingly a mar of his own skin. An image of a water lily, ringed by the scaled tail of a snake now adorned his wrist.

More than that though, the Drow would feel more awake, more alive than before. A trickle of energy that did not come from himself, but from a well that sat just within reach of him.

 

[Siegewright]

Siegewright was not anything if not observant.

Beyond the realm of fighting, he relied on learning from others by studying and watching. Every word, the way he often crossed his arms, gestures of respect, and even the way he tilted his head slightly when intrigued by something. He would seem far more mechanical had he not taken to habits of very astute observation. It illustrated the way he grasped at humanity with hungry hands, hoping to achieve it by mirroring what he saw.

Therefore, Elliot's newly acquired marking did not go amiss. It seemed an odd juxtaposition; the beauty of a lily depicted on a canvas of scarring flesh. Siegewright neither moved nor spoke, only watched as they returned from their private conversation.

An initial feeling of relief eased the suffocating air around him, knowing that Elliot was alive and relatively unscathed. However, it was quite fleeting. The cool, predatory smile on Nysia's face only seemed the feed the fire of worry gnawing in his mind. Whatever they discussed, she seemed quite pleased with it. Had Elliot changed his mind, and Srivani was to be handed over regardless? Was someone else to take her place? Siegewright struggled to read Elliot's face in order to determine what may have happened.

He then glanced to Zilvra and Srivani, curious as to how they felt about the transpiring events. Reading peoples expressions was something in which he stood to improve, especially since it's something he couldn't mimic, but it was not difficult to see how tense and uneasy Srivani was. Although she had ventured away from him slightly, she gripped his arm as if he were the sole measure of safety on the vessel. The thought encouraged him. The circumstances were bleak, but he enjoyed feeling useful and needed. He stood a little straighter, and faced Elliot and Nysia once more. He dare not speak first, and opted to wait.

 

[Srivani]

The dread that weighed down upon her only grew heavier with each passing second that Elliot was gone. Srivani tried not to look at the wraithy creatures that milled around, she tried not to breathe too loudly as an eerie silence befell the deck. She realised how cold it was then, and how the ship slowly bobbed on the sea waves, every creek and flutter of dark sails ominous to her ears.

She glanced over her companions and wished she wasn't such a coward. Or at least, that she could somehow mask the fear that had festered in her since stepping outside the safety of the Beaufort castle walls. Her fear was the true cage. She knew that she was powerful, she'd been told as such, but her gifts had been exploited to give rich people something pretty to look at whilst the gorged on food and wine at their ostentatious events. Had she fallen into different hands, she might have been honed as a weapon, like Siegewright.

As the two returned from their private conversation, Srivani put all wishful thoughts of bravery aside and took a step back, leaving two charred footprints in the deck where she'd stood. The genus tucked herself in behind Siegewright's arm, her hands holding onto it as she peeked out, her eyes darting between Elliot and Nysia, fully expecting to be handed over at any moment.

 

[Elliot Aldmar]

Elliot grimaced severely when Nysia placed upon him her brand. The deep sting of the tail slash, the contortion of muscle and bone, the flash fire in his blood, all encapsulated at their height in the singular agonizing moment. He staggered back a step, as any man undergoing such an ordeal would. He was half hunched over, head down, long white hair dangling, and he was holding his right wrist.

And at last he got a good look at it. A scar. Of course it would be. Such a thing was grotesque, objectionable, as were all scars, but it was so that he needed to endure it and thus he would. The bearing of this Mark was perhaps one step, one crucial step, toward the realization of his goal, future steps perhaps built upon it. And so he would have to stow his strong opinion on scars, lest he give it more value than the totality of his ethic.

After a few breaths, Elliot steadied himself. Stood straighter as he lowered and let go of his marked arm. The tingle of new vigor coursed through his veins, seemingly originating from the Mark itself, and this did not go unnoticed.

He gave a firm nod to the Lamia. Said, "We'll speak again on this matter soon."

There were, after all, many pieces of the plan to be brought together. Arranged just so. Not the least of which was capturing or persuading to the cause an individual with a particular skillset:

A griffin tamer.

* * * * *​

Elliot emerged onto the deck from the Lamia's chambers, his armaments back in his possession, Nysia herself with him.

He held his right glove in his hand, his wrist with the Mark clearly visible. Let them see it, this manner of proof that a transaction had occurred. And then as he was approaching he slipped the glove back on.

Elliot glanced over the lot of them. He spoke simply, casually, a tone at flagrant odds with the situation from their perspective. "We're free to leave." And with a specific look to Srivani, "All of us."

They were certain to have questions. Srivani, out of all of them, would be least likely to believe that the ordeal had essentially disappeared in a puff of smoke. And yet it was so. A sudden betrayal proving untenable, a negotiation therefore became best to bear fruit, and it had. A mutual exchange between Elliot and Nysia, an understanding.

But with Siegewright? With Zilvra? With Srivani? Elliot maintained his belief that none of them would look upon the prospect of war favorably. In fairness, he could attempt to probe them with questions of his own once they were back in Grand Fair Harbor. Yet he reckoned it would likely be an exercise in excavating an answer he knew already to be there.

Nysia Siegewright Zilvra Srivani

 

[Zilvra]

"What girl did she took?.." she asked hesitantly after silence had fallen.

Mute wished to answer, but just as quickly as it had been given, the ability had been taken from him. All he could do was turn to Zilvra and look to her for an explanation. Of course, his description would've been very different. Honey was a kind soul. Sweet as her name. More beautiful than any mere human had the right to be, and she had always been good to him. Made the effort to speak to him and tried her best to communicate when everyone else dismissed him as little more than a statue in the background. He'd go as far as to call her a friend. But Zilvra though...

"One of mine," was all she had to say about the girl. "An employee. Good little earner, that one. And of course, you understand, it's extremely disrespectful for one crime lord to simple take another's prize without discussion or any form of compensation. But I suppose this is a Lamia we are talking about. I can't imagine she plays by the same rules as mere mortals such as we."

And that was what bothered Mute so much. Zilvra, of course, did not value Honey as a human being, but at a possession... Still, that was her nature, and Mute had come to accept it a long time ago. In the end, it didn't matter why Zilvra wanted the girl. What mattered was getting her back. Though, if Mute knew what Zilvra's plan was, he might not have been so eager to participate.

Elliot glanced over the lot of them. He spoke simply, casually, a tone at flagrant odds with the situation from their perspective. "We're free to leave." And with a specific look to Srivani, "All of us."

"Not quite," Zilvra amended Elliot's statement. "I do hope you haven't forgotten my own personal business," with that, Zilvra took a few steps forward, boldly approaching the Lamia. "Lady Nysia, you have something of mine," Zilvra spoke up, skipping the formalities and getting straight to the point. "A human girl, common as dirt in breeding. I imagine she has little value to you, but holds a respectable amount to me, monetarily at least. Now, renowned scientist as you are, I would not be so presumptuous as to guess your plans for her, though I do feel it is relatively safe to assume that the girl herself is not important to your plans. After all, one common born human girl is not much different from another. Any girl will do. And as a procurer of rare and luxurious goods, I am sure I can find you a suitable replacement... And for you, I imagine something a little more exotic would most likely suit your tastes." After all, how hard could it be to procure a simple human girl? If someone needed one, say, for an experiment of sorts, why, one only had to go outside and search under a bridge to find half a dozen orphaned brats that not a soul in the world would miss. But a pure blooded elven maiden, or a fae perhaps... Or maybe a lady of noble blood, those were all far more difficult to procure. But Zilvra had her ways. And a stranger, no matter what kind of rare and exotic blood ran through their veins, was worth less to her than a well trained courtesan who had worked for kings in her time. No doubt she could make a deal that would suit the both of them.

So... That was her plan. As expected, Mute was far from pleased. He'd imagined that Zilvra would offer a fair price in exchange for Honey's safe return. But then, what would a creature so powerful care for money? She was offering life in exchange for the girl. Whatever fate that would have befallen Honey, it would now befall some other innocent soul. And no doubt, Mute would be instrumental in finding a suitable replacement... And he would do it. He'd have to. Much as he would hate it, the life of someone he cared about was at stake. If he had to sacrifice a stranger to save her... Much as he was ashamed to admit it, he'd probably do it. And may his soul be damned to hell for whatever part he played.

 

[Nysia]

Zilvra | Elliot Aldmar | Siegewright | Srivani

Nysia slowly fluttered her fan back and forth as the Drow girl spoke to her, carefully parsing every word.

For a brief moment she filtered through those that had been brought aboard since they had entered the Overworld. It was not too difficult, there were only a dozen or so. Yet the description was not exact, though close enough that she could make a guess. It was rare that Nysia sought out the ordinary, but Zilvra likely knew that.

There were only two humans within the holds, one a man, and the other a woman of particularly uncommon beauty. Not that the Lamia particularly cared for such things. To her eyes all of them were grotesque things, small and petty to the very core.

"Ah, flattery." She mused with a happy mirth. "Wonderful."

A smile touched her lips, and slowly she glanced over towards Elliot.

Her gaze lingered for a moment, then towards Siegewright. Her eyes almost seemed to dig into his form, an unnatural hunger laying within the way that she looked at him. Then slowly Nysia swept her sights away from him as well, turning to Sirvani.

There was a slight spark in her eye, smile turning into a smirk, and then she returned her gaze to Zilvra. "She was not asked for, simply the consequence of another bargain."

Nysia explained coolly.

"A life for a life." The Lamia confirmed with a dip of her head. "Bring me something of her worth, and you'll have her back. Perhaps even more."

Otherwise she would simply become another one of the wretched faceless. Another experiment into what life may be, into what would bring her child into this world.

She seemed to muse for a moment more, then gazed over Zilvra towards the others. "And you? Man of metal? Little bird?"

Nysia smiled. "Would you like to make a bargain?"

Her words seemed to float in the air.

 

[Siegewright]

"Would you like to make a bargain?" Nysia's lilting voice echoed within Siegewright's helmet. Those piercing, predatory eyes unnerved him slightly, although his body of steel did not betray this. He was certain that if he was still of flesh, he would certainly shudder.

A body... That's right. It was all her doing. She was the reason he finally knew what it was to feel, and also the reason why there seemed to be a gaping hole within him. This power she wielded; would it actually be a gift? What if humanity was more of a burden than anticipated? While he could not deny his intensified desire for true life, he hesitated. The silence was thick and stifling as he glanced about him. The tremors in Srivani's hands caught his gaze from time to time. She could be severely hurt if something were to happen... she has not been trained to fight, and her body is not strong. She is vulnerable... Siegewright mulled this over for a moment. Perhaps it was unwise to turn down Nysia's offer. And yet, it must come at some sort of price. Not only that, but....

Siegewright clenched his gloved fists for just a moment; a brief display of his inner turmoil. He was forgetting his place. Ranulphus had made it clear that his creation served a purpose. With an undying body, he could do what many couldn't, such as forging through fire (a very useful trick when battling dragons). Although he could not place why, Siegewright felt that there was more for him to do, and the time wasn't right.

Swallowing his unmet desire was a bitter feeling as he turned to face Nysia, bowing at the waist in hopes to convey respect. It seemed best to remain in her good graces if they were to leave unscathed. "That is a gracious offer, Lady Nysia." He echoed Zilvra's formalities. "Not at this time. Perhaps in the future." The final phrase was not what he planned to say, and yet he was unable to stop himself. It left him feeling unsettled. Despite how hard he tried to convince himself he didn't need a body to be content, he could not resist. Speaking the possibility into existence gave it a new hold on his conscious. He bowed his head to the ground, indicating he was finished speaking, and had much to think about.

However, in a moment of clarity, Siegewright did something he had never considered. Realizing that Srivani may feel just as conflicted as he was, he reached up carefully and placed a hand over hers on his arm. He had seen this done before, intended for comfort, and hoped he way able to convey the same.

 

[Srivani]

'We're free to leave...All of us.'

Elliot's words sent a surge of relief through her so fast that her legs almost buckled beneath her weight. A breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding shuddered from her lips, and her eyes glistened like polished amber beneath unshed tears as she looked at him, nodding quickly in both understanding and gratitude that whatever he had done, whatever deal he had made with the serpent, that her freedom was still intact. She wondered for a fleeting moment what bargain he had struck with her, but she did not want to spend another second on this monstrosity of a ship and so the question could wait.

'Not quite'..

Srivani's brow furrowed, her gaze shifting between each of her companions as Zilvra spoke. She could bear the delay if it meant freeing someone from the Lamia's collection, but the suggestion that this girl be replaced with another caused the genasi's brow to knit in abhorrence, particularly when she mentioned something more 'exotic'. Srivani shifted uncomfortably, and she looked up at Siegewright, her hands wrapping around his forearm to tug him toward the ghoulish nets, but she paused and settled her wide eyes on the serpentine woman as her attention was once again drawn toward them.

Little bird. She'd have sneered at the pet name had she not been so terrified that she'd incur Nysia's wrath. Words seemed to stick in her throat, and the only thing she could think of that she wanted was to get off of this boat and onto dry land. Again, she looked up at the war forged, and even without means of expression, his consideration was made obvious by the silence he fell into after the question had been posed.

She wondered what he had seen in the Lamia's mists, though it was another question that could wait. Srivani returned her dewy gaze back to Nysia and her head slowly shook. "No." she said, with all the confidence she could muster. "Thank you." her chin dipped politely, as though she was entirely honoured and grateful for the offer of a bargain. Elliot had already broke her from her prison, there were no chains that bound her now, though learning to live without them would be a challenge in itself. Still, there was nothing that she wanted from the Lamia but to be allowed to leave peacefully and to never set eyes on her again.

 

[Elliot Aldmar]

Not quite, Zilvra had said, and to this Elliot spread his hands invitingly. She'd all the freedom she needed to conduct her business if she choose so. And she had chosen so, not allowing herself to be overawed by the Lamia's earlier display of magical prowess. Zilvra's was the last of the negotiations, the bargaining as Nysia had put it; Siegewright had come with no particular desire in mind and thus declined, and Srivani already had her freedom secured (coincidentally, as a "consequence of another bargain," as the Lamia had said with reference to Zilvra's working girl.)

Elliot stood by the Lamia's side as the deal was laid out: a life for a life. It was up to Zilvra to accept the terms, decline them, or make a counteroffer. And if she did accept, natural law would follow. Whomever she picked to deliver to the Lamia, it would be their strength versus hers, and the stronger would prevail. Such was the very bedrock of all conflict resolution, the final arbiter when all methods above had failed.

Which, of course, was why Elliot himself was left with the one answer for the Dornoch. What greater proof than Dornoch's long history was there that all other methods had failed?

Zilvra Nysia Siegewright Srivani