Private Tales An Evening with Friends

[Kasimir]

A black butterfly landed on Rumers nose. It was only there for a few seconds, enough to open its wings and reveal patterns of black upon black. But it's message was clear; Kasimir wanted her to pick him.

He daren't move more than that to look at Nat or the child but he hoped his love had seen it too. After this time apart he couldn't bare to watch her hurt when he still didn't know exactly how well she was after her trip. What had happened? How had she ignored the rune for so long?

"Do it child," he spoke softly as a blade appeared in his hand and he passed it to her.

"Pick one, do not disappointed me."

 

[Rumer]

The colour visibly blanched from Rumer's face at the mention of the cabin, and her clammy hands squeezed together in her lap to keep them from trembling as she looked up at Norris. There was little point pleading with him, but she silently shook her head as though in assurance that she did in fact not need to return to the cabin.

Or.

Her gaze fell upon the blade that he settled on the arm of her chair, the smell of smoke catching in her throat, her nostrils. At least if questioned about her watering eyes she could blame her 'allergies', but it was what he was asking her to do that had the tears threatening to spill over. She looked to Nathaira, and then to Kasimir, and back to the blade, feeling her pulse pitch and her breaths quicken.

If she refused, she'd be taken back there. If she refused he'd only hurt her, and hurt them even more to teach her a lesson. If she refused he'd make her do worse. Her lashes fluttered at the butterfly on the end of her nose as Norris' attention was diverted, and she looked to Kasimir with pure apology in her glassy gaze. He'd had worse, they all had, and she knew it would be nothing in comparison to what Norris would inflict.

Her knuckles paled as her fingers wrapped around the handle of the blade and she slowly got to her feet to move to the side of Kasimir's chair. She avoided the tiefling's gaze for fear of stopping herself, and settled one hand on his wrist as the other lifted the blade to settle on his crimson skin. She stole a breath and pressed down, her grip tremulous as she tried to find the strength to press harder.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..

Rumer's jaw clenched tightly as she watched the first ruby beads bloom at the tip of the blade, and she pushed a little deeper and dragged the blade along his forearm, praying that he'd hurry up and scream.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira wished she could be surprised by Norris’ demands. She wished that being turned against one another for no more than the sadistic glee of their masters was not commonplace. She wished for a lot of things.

Invisible to the rest of the room, she could see Rumer’s body temperature rise. She tasted the girl’s rising breaths on the air with a single flick of her tongue, a momentary lapse in control as her focus turned from herself to the blade.

She turned only her head towards Rumer and looked at the girl in earnest for the first time. She had grown. She bore scars that Nathaira did not remember, and there was less light in her eyes. Had so much transpired since they last saw one another? She let a barely perceptable half smile light the side of her face that was hidden from Norris. It’s alright, child.

Her gaze followed Rumer to Kasimir’s chair and to the blade against his skin. The smile vanished, and her jaw grew tight at the sight of his blood. She had seen it before, many times, but it had never been harder to watch.

She felt a knot in her stomach as she watched the flesh part, and she yearned to pull the knife from Rumer’s grasp and... and...

She locked her face as stone when Genevieve interrupted both her thoughts and the “training exercise.” Tight-lipped and gripping her hands tightly in her lap, her rising fury was not easily quelled.

 

[Norris]

He glared at Genevieve for a hard, long, while. She had defied him, she’d deliberately left the study at the sound of violence and if the children hadn’t been present he’d be verbally raking her over the coals for it. Or worse, he could certainly imagine worse.

”We’re fine, we just,” in the corner of his eye the proctor could see his half-elf pupil carving into the half-tiefling’s red flesh, painting it a lovely crimson as blood rushed towards oxygen.

Glee shone through his brown eyes. The imp was a strong enough kid, he’d hold out just long enough to satisfy Norris’ curiosity and make the little runt with the blade beat herself up ‘til she was blue in the face. Ripping and tearing his flesh was one thing, those wounds would mend simple enough, but the Anirian teacher believed that all of the Forsaken operated the same.

He had them torture each other because he thought that, even if it was under his orders, knowing someone you once trusted hurt you was a strong thing. Hard to just shake off. It didn’t help that Norris underestimated the resolve of the halflings they trained as assassins but in his mind they were simple minded. Kasimir would hold a grudge, he was sure of it.

For her part, Genevieve looked on in horror. She’d been used to these games and she knew that her boss’s annual tradition of meeting with his ‘children’ like this was very much off the books. Her hips twisted and her tousled brown hair shook as she inched even closer to the group, taking advantage of Norris’ distraction.

She knew she couldn’t intervene, not without being reprimanded, but at least she could offer healing to the poor lad once the madman was satisfied.

Norris grinned before saying to the half-naga, ”look at that Snake-Eyes, I think she’s enjoying herself.”

 

[Kasimir]

Like all Forsaken, Kasimir had undergone things as a child that would make even Dreadlords pale. He had been frozen, he had been boiled, he had had the skin peeled back from his flesh and stitched open so that a class might examine how the muscles in a body worked on a living, breathing, conscious specimen. He knew pain. It had been his world for years until he had grown good enough, strong enough, to be more valuable when he wasn't writhing in agony. So the cut to his forearm was not a huge deal.

But Norris wanted to hear a scream.

So instead of bottling up the pain like he had learnt to do he let it go as the blade sliced deeper into his arm, for he couldn't very well start howling at a little scratch. As Rumer cut down to the bone his back arched and pain spasmed in the tense muscles of his jaw before a howl of pain escaped him and blood began to flow like a morbid waterfall onto the hardwood floor.

 

[Rumer]

Tears filled Rumer's eyes as she watched the blood flow from Kasimir's arm, her grip trembling. She couldn't look the tiefling in the eye, she could only stare at what she was doing, fully focused on trying to contain her rage and the urge to turn on the handler and stick the blade in his fat neck. She couldn't now, not with the rune, it was pointless to try and it would only make matters worse, and so she endured, and Kasimir endured.

Norris' words about her enjoying herself caused her grip to tighten and her teeth to grind. She felt the bone under the blade, and she flinched at the sound that the tiefling made, her hand lifting to cover the gasp she took as she dropped the blade and stepped back, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she looked at the growing puddle of blood. She felt sick, but tears were bad enough, vomiting would only prove that she didn't have a strong enough stomach for hurting her fellow forsaken and that issue would need to be resolved.

Rumer spun on her heels, her eyes settling not on Norris but on Genevieve in mute plea.

Heal him.

 

[Nathaira]

It was a unique torture. How did they always manage to find new ways to hurt her? The pain from having that blade turned against her own flesh would have been a trifling thing next to this. Somehow Norris had planted shards of glass in her heart, and they tore her chest apart with every pleading beat. Her Kasimir, screaming in agony. She knew that he was appeasing their masters, knew that he could and had endured far worse, but rational thought was as a paper sword against the steel of base emotion.

And on top of it all, that beautiful skin was being carved by Rumer. The child who Nathaira had pledged to protect, the one she knew abhorred this violence and savagery. As unbidden and unstoppable as her despair for Kasimir, she felt an anger towards the girl for her actions, and then crushing guilt for it.

”look at that Snake-Eyes, I think she’s enjoying herself.”

The look she gave him could have frozen steam. It lasted only a second, but there was nothing human in her eyes when she turned them to him. Viper's eyes bore into him, and her face, framed by the torchlight, held the exact shadows and contours of the monster he claimed her to be. This was all his fault.

Kill. Tear. Bite. Crush. Devour.

The sound of the knife clattering to the floor ripped her attention back to Rumer, and her face softened as anger morphed to empathy. Her tongue flickered involuntarily to taste Kasimir's blood on the air.

She needed to leave this place.

 

[Norris]

Norris was briefly unemotive but after the delay he snickered at the scream the tiefling gave. ”Wasn’t that fun, dollface?”

He ignored the reptile’s obvious concern, that’d be a problem for another day, and addressed the male Forsaken instead. ”You can’t trust the girl. Or the snake. If I asked ‘em to kill you either of ‘em would do it right now.” He eyed the two gals next, his face wide with satisfaction, ”Same goes for you two. I’m the friend you should be worried about. I’m the one who keeps you three safe.”

Norris wiped his own spittle from his dark mustache and pressed on, ”you three go out into the world and share your feelings, you bond. That’s fine. But I’m the one you should be open with. I’m the one you ought to be asking for help. And if I catch wind that any of you three are up to,” his words trailed off as a new development was occurring midway through his speech.

Blood rushed from Kasimir’s arm and dripped into the upholstered flooring. Genevieve saw the look of sorrow on Rumer’s face, the darting tongue of concern daring a poke out from Nathaira’s lips. She didn’t want to stand by and watch the trio sit in pain. She couldn’t, not tonight.

She sprang into action as Norris spoke, her palms outstretched and fingers wide as a white smoke formed and encircled the half-tiefling’s arm. It poured into the open wound and began repairing the damage of the blade, numbing some of the pain, halting the escape of blood. It would just take a few more seconds to fully mend.

Those few seconds wouldn’t come.

A firm hand slapped against the side of Genevieve’s face. Her concentration broken, the redskinned Forsaken would only have the wound partially closed and the pain only slightly dulled. The woman looked up at her boss, eyes wide, but his slap was followed by a swift strike of his wooden cane against the side of her temple. Genevieve crashed into the ground with a thump.

”Stupid bitch,” Norris spat. ”None of you even get to breath without my say so.”

He glared at his three killer’s, an idea circling around in his head. ”Children, how would you punish this insubordination?”

 

[Kasimir]

The pain throbbed up his whole arm in beat with the steady drip, drip, dripping of blood onto the floor. He wondered, faintly, whether he could try and stem the flow in order to stop his blood from straining the plush carpet in Norris' home but if the handler could see that as him attempting to take care of himself, which he wouldn't like. If Norris wanted him healed or in less pain he would give the order to Rumer; she was destined to heal after all. What he made her do was a twisted, dark version or her true talent.

So instead of looking at his arm and instead of thinking of the agony creeping through his body, he levelled his gaze blankly on the man behind the desk who could very well order either of the women to his right to do more than give him a small cut.

"Yes s--," he didn't get any further because suddenly there were hands on his arm. They were only there for a second but it was enough to surprise him, especially when the pain faded and the blood slowed, and especially when they vanished just as quick and a woman went toppling onto the floor.

He stared wide-eyed at her.

Why?

He couldn't even think about answering Norris.

 

[Rumer]

She didn't answer Norris, she could only stare at the wound she'd caused and the blood that slowly dripped in muted thuds on the floor like the loudest thing in the room. She could barely hear Norris as he prattled on with his bile. The pretence he plastered on about being their friend and looking after them had always nauseated her, everything about him did. She tried not to let her mind drift back to that place, that cabin in her mind where her rage was locked away, but it cracked and creaked a little more with every horrible thing she had to do and she hadn't even noticed her body start to shake with it before Genevieve interrupted and she blinked.

The sound of Norris' hand colliding with the woman's face brought back her own painful memories and the child flinched, her gaze widening as she saw the cane rise. She couldn't help it, she stepped forward and the words "No, stop please!" were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Rumer paled as she watched the assistant clatter to the ground, her mouth tight shut, both to keep any more words from spilling out and to push down the rising nausea at how very much worse she may have just made it for them, for Genevieve.

 

[Nathaira]

When the light encircled Kasimir's arm Nathaira expected new horrors to arise from it. Only pain and blood could exist in this room, she was convinced, and it took seeing the skin knit together and Genevieve's body hitting the floor for her to realize what had happened.

It was odd not having the rune dictating her thoughts and moods (to say the least), but even its oppressive hand would not have been able to make sense of this. She held no love for Genevieve. The healer was passively complicit in their torment at best, and a pawn of Norris at worst. Yet... she had healed Kasimir. Useless and foolish but a gesture nonetheless.

She saw the golden-haired woman on the floor, blood trickling from her face, and felt satisfaction in her suffering. She tensed in instinctual anticipation of her mark's punishment, but it did not come. Instead, she was allowed to feel her hatred in full. Her heartbeat quickened, and her eyes again favored her reptile half.

Rumer's cries were almost enough to break her from it. She put a hand out and took hold of the girl's shoulder. It was a gentle gesture, but the grip held a firmness in it as she got to her feet.

”Children, how would you punish this insubordination?”

"In whatever manner you would have me deliver it." Her voice was cold and passionless. There was no way out of Norris' games, no way for them to leave without misery. The least she could do was spare Rumer of the worst of it. If doing so meant releasing years of tormented rage into one of her oppressors she would take that chance.

 

[Norris]

There were several thoughts racing through his head after Genevieve hit the ground. There was genuine surprise in the fact that the Imp seemed stunned. Had he not anticipated Norris’ sudden action or was it something else?

Next there was disgust, not shock, at the girl’s little outburst. How many times was he going to need to beat the shit out of her before she learned her place? Maybe it was nearly time he cut his losses and had her disposed of. At this rate she would never become as docile and obedient as the Imp or Snake-Eyes.

The reptile’s scaled hand braced the half-elf brat, perhaps hoping she could spare Rumer from his wrath.

”What did you just say to,” he started to form the phrase but his words began at the same time as the snake’s and he paused himself to listen to her speak.

Finally, one of the brats was showing an eagerness to serve Vel Anir. He spoiled them far too much, he’d need to be a lot harsher with them after tonight. Ensure they didn’t step out of line again. ”Very good Snake-Eyes,” he complimented.

He stuck the end of his cane firmly on Genevieve’s shoulder to keep her floor bound. A small whimper escaped as he pressed the cane deeper into muscle and bone. ”There is a manner that I think would be appropriate.” Norris cast his eyes away from his assistant and focused them on Nathaira.

Chestnut eyes that were cold, deadened, stared at the half-naga. With an equally passionless voice he spoke, ”bite her. Just enough venom so that her death is agonizingly slow. Painful.” Genevieve didn’t speak but her face was full of fear as tears began to well up. She tried choking them back.

Maybe watching her creeping death would teach the half-elf brat to keep herself in check.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir slowly came back to himself as Rumer cried out though his mind still reeled with the very thought somebody would put themselves in harms way for him. Least of all a... a Anirian. With effort he tore his orange eyes away from her prone form to Norris as he heaped praise on Nat for managing to come to do what neither he nor the child had been able to. He winced thinking about what his punishment would be for not being the first to answer but more so at the thought of what Rumer's punishment might be for her outburst.

When their handler announced what it was he wanted his love to do to punish the woman who had tried to heal him he kept his face passively blank. It would be a horrible way to die and her screams of mercy would no doubt be the backdrop for the rest of their conversation now but there was nothing he could do. Unlike her he knew the consequences of stepping in to help those in a more unfortunate position to yourself. In this world it was about looking out for yourself.

Kasimir's world had just... grown to include Nat and Rumer too.

"I am sorry your work was ruined, child," he glanced down at his half-healed wound. "It was a very good cut," ever the trainer.

 

[Rumer]

There were so very few people in Rumer's life that she ever recalled being in any way 'kind' to her. The woman now laying cowering on the floor had been Rumer's only source of comfort at one of the most terrifying times in her young life, despite being bound to Norris' command. She had been the one to soothe her wounds, and she could see the regret on the woman's face every time a hurt was inflicted upon any of them. She was too good for this place, too kindhearted. She was just as trapped as Rumer was.

Rumer's green eyes were glassy and distant as she stared down at the trembling woman, her brow furrowing with the injustice of it. She had only ever followed his terrible orders, and now he wanted one of his half breeds to kill her - a human? She didn't deserve this, and Rumer could feel that rage rise up like acid in her chest as though she might spit fire.

Norris' command to Nathaira dragged Rumer's mind back into the room and she looked up at him. Nathaira's bite was terrible, and despite her suffering, Rumer had never known another pain like it. Her face paled at the thought and she swallowed. At least, she might give her a quicker death, like she'd done for the elf in the sea, or for that poor suffering elf in the cabin..

Her eyes filled with tears but she stepped forward. "Let me do it. In apology for speaking out of turn." she asked, unable to hold the man's gaze and instead letting her eyes drop to the floor at his feet. "Please, sir. I'd like the chance to correct my mistake." she asked meekly.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira was ready to do it. She wanted to do it. In her mind she saw a life of suffering, for herself, for Kasimir, and for Rumer still so young. She saw Kasimir's flesh split by one he loved at Anirian command, saw Rumer's distress at being forced to do so, and saw Norris' cruel smile through it all.

This was justice, if not in full then a small piece. Genevieve looked upon her in terror, eyes and nose dripping, sweat heavy on her brow, her chest heaving in panic. She knew exactly what Nathaira could do, and her face begged more desperately than any victim prior.

She felt the venom well up on her tongue and was about to kneel when Rumer stepped forward.

"Let me do it. In apology for speaking out of turn."

Nathaira froze in surprise, looking down at the girl. Why... why would she do this?

"Please, sir. I'd like the chance to correct my mistake."

No. Nathaira's eyes were beseeching as she looked at Rumer. She couldn't do this... she mustn't do this. Despite the horrors the child was capable of she still detested violence, still desired nothing more than to heal and mend. Nathaira had watched the light fade farther and farther from the girl's eyes, often by her own hand, and felt her heart tear at its retreat.

"I am her mentor," Nathaira interjected. A title that had fallen more to Kasimir in recent months but that she clung to all the same. "Rumer's failures are my own. Allow me to atone for them."

She would not see the girl's hands darkened by further bloodshed. Not when she had the freedom to prevent it.

 

[Norris]

Norris’ lips curled upwards when the girl stepped forward and volunteered. The gesture itself had a twist of irony akin to a child having to put down his beloved dog. Genevieve had been stupid, she’d shown the half-elf brat a sliver of kidness here or there despite his warnings. Having the girl do it wouldn’t physically hurt as much but the emotional trauma would be oh so satisfying to watch.

And then, his scaled pet disappointed him. Snake-Eyes was trying to protect the brat either because she knew that the kid had a soft spot for Genie or worse to spare the child from adding to her growing body count.

It was pathetic.

Had it been someone Norris actually respected or had he been alone with Snake-Eyes he would’ve admonished her. But while in front of the Imp and Dollface he couldn’t just speak his mind. He needed to turn this into a lesson. Justify his superior, Anirian, wisdom to these fucking half-breeds.

HIs head shook in Nathaira’s direction. ”I appreciate it Snake-Eyes but the child wants to fix her blunder. As your mentor you’ve got to be ready for the kid to make mistakes. Then you’ve gotta let her fix ‘em.”

A brown eye cruelly scanned the crumpled assistant who let an audible gulp swallow. Her face was steeled now, accepting of her impending death. The venom would’ve hurt a hell of a lot more but now he could tell she was trying to put on a brave face for the half-elf. He would’ve delighted in her torment, sure, but the emotional toll this would take on the kid…

Either dollface would be fully committed to their cause after tonight or she’d prove herself to be expendable. It mattered very little to Norris.

”Go ahead girl,” he said to Rumer, ”do your worst, she deserves it.” He lifted his cane from Genevieve’s shoulder and his former assistant knew better than to try to scramble towards the corner or run.

She simply sat there, glaring at Norris and avoiding contact with the child.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir's hands slowly clenched into a fist.

The injury on his arm had dulled enough that it barely registered as pain anymore; he had suffered far worse. His mind was now entirely on the fact that this woman had tried to help when in his tortured life none had before. There had been plenty of healers present when he had been flayed, cut, mutilated and none of them had launched themselves forward to heal him. Especially knowing the consequences. Even now she defied him by not apologising.

It wasn't that all Anirian's hated the Forsaken.

Norris just wanted them to believe that. He had for years and he wouldn't let Rumer grow up broken in that way. He turned fully to her now.

Kill him he mouthed, his orange eyes flashing in the dimming light as shadows began to creep up the walls, obscuring the exits.

 

[Rumer]

Her stomach fell as Nathaira tried to intervene, and the child's chin lifted slightly as she looked back to Norris as though silently insisting that she could do it. Her adrenaline surged as Norris gave her permission, and she glanced to Nathaira with a small, apologetic smile in gratitude. She knew why she'd volunteered instead, but the last thing she wanted was to hear the poor woman's venom fuelled screams.

Her lips thinned as she looked to Kasimir, not daring to speak or acknowledge what he was telling her to do. She knew what she was going to do from the very second he had suggested that one of them murder his cowering assistant.

Rumer took a slow step forward as Norris instructed her to go ahead, swallowing the nerves and nausea that rose from her gut as she settled her gaze on Genevieve. Fingers squeezed into her clammy palms and she took a deep breath, taking her time to focus herself and draw the energy she'd need to open a quick, deep wound across the throat. A quick death..

It was far more than Norris deserved.

The girl's blood and skin heated as she concentrated on every single thing the handler had ever said or done to her. She revisited the vile lies he'd told her about her mother, the meathook he'd slammed into her shoulder, every punch to the face, the cigar burns, the rune on the back of her neck, the faces of those she'd killed because he said so. The smell of that revolting smoke. Every memory had forced her from her sleep at one time or another, leaving her a vomiting wreck in the corner of her dingy little room. No more.

Her body shook and her breathing became heavy and ragged. It had to be quick. She didn't have time to cause the pain she'd have liked to. She didn't have time to boil the man from the inside out, nor to flay the skin from his body or open him up one bit at a time. She had tried once before and failed to kill him, and she knew she couldn't afford to fail again. If she did, she'd die, and so too would Nathaira and Kasimir, no doubt. But he had given her permission to use her abilities, there was no leash on her, it had to be now.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on that fat neck of his. She wanted it to open, to spill every last drop of his blood over the floor and let him die gargling in a pool of it, and she wanted him to know that she had done it. His dollface. Her rune burned with agony at the very thought, but her own pain was easily enough hidden in her efforts.

Rumer dragged in another breath as she lifted her hand in front of her, facing Genevieve despite her focus being elsewhere. Her heart drummed her venomous loathing loud and clear, and she added that vocal scream of exertion, a sound of sheer, unbridled rage thrown from her lungs as her hand snapped shut as though around an invisible blade that she dragged swiftly through the air and closed her eyes tightly, afraid to look.

 

[Nathaira]

Hatred boiled inside of Nathaira. It was a raging serpent, not unlike the beast she had met within her own dreamscape, and she found it difficult to keep it concealed. She hadn't realized how much the rune had tempered her emotions, how much it had done with a gentle invisible hand versus the harsh lashes she was used to. It only made her more furious.

”Go ahead girl,” he said to Rumer, ”do your worst, she deserves it.”

He would never stop corrupting Rumer, would never stop working to stamp out the light that had been steadily fading once and for all. Nathaira had done terrible things to the child in the name of protection, in an effort to build up her defenses to a world of darkness. Now, however, there was another option, and she wished to sweep Rumer behind her body and guard her as she would her own child.

But she could not. Now would be a foolish time to strike. Not while they were so deep in Vel Anir, not while both Rumer and Kasimir were still bound by their brands. She did not see Kasimir's lips move behind her but she saw the shadows rise and felt a familiar chill run up her spine. She looked back at him, her eyes wild in silent question, what are you doing??

Rumer's scream splintered in her ears and she turned back to meet hot blood across her face.

 

[Norris]

All his life Norris had been a stalwart servant of Vel Anir. Taken as a child, subjected to what every magical boy goes through at the academy, and becoming a Dreadlord. A few years of service lead to an opportunity to entrust the next generation of Dreadlords with the knowledge he had obtained. Ensure that these kids were trained properly. Then he was inducted into the Forsaken project and he saw ways he could make Vel Anir even greater than he had ever imagined.

Tonight was another step towards Vel Anir's great destiny of being the premier power in Arethil. Ensuring the safe future for all of humanity. One day, Rumer would wreak havoc on the Anirian's enemies. Splitting their flesh with a single thought, boiling their eyes from fifty yards away, or assassinating the prominent foes that threatened the last bastion of true humans.

And tonight, after she had slain Genevieve, there'd be no one left to disrupt that path. Impede on her growth.

Instead of that glorious future though, Norris felt something hot and sticky run down his throat. His eyes went wide as the pain registered in his mind and his hands flung up to grasp at his neck. The man toppled over, his cane clanking onto the stone. He choked, spewing a mixture of saliva and blood from his lips.

"You..." it was the only word he managed to speak. There were so many more on the tip of his tongue, on the precipice of being released. Even in his panicked state he wanted to curse her. Wanted to tell her that his death proved she was the monster he always said she'd be. But nothing more came, just the sounds of garbled breaths as the light faded from his eyes.

Genevieve's face went pale. She glanced up at the child who'd just ended the handler's life and with a trembling lip she managed to stutter, "w-what have you," but her words went unfinished too as the event fully dawned on her.

The woman nodded several times before slipping off her heels and standing up. She examined the body from afar but made no effort to try and help him. It was only after the motion ceased, after she was certain he had died, that she spoke up again.

"You three need to get out of here. You need to find a way to get rid of those runes and you need to stay away from Vel Anir." She steeled herself, trying to pretend as if she wasn't frightened. "If you spare me I will take the blame for this. I slit his throat. Might buy you three more time."

 

[Kasimir]

The walls, the windows, the doors and even the ceiling were covered in shadows yet the light from inside the room was the same. If there was anybody else in the house they wouldn't be able to sense anything a miss inside; just a peaceful afternoon meal between a handler and his three obedient dogs.

It was the only thing he could manage with the horrendous pain coursing through his body from the rune. He had encouraged another to kill a handler. He had been an accomplice which was just as bad in Anirian law. Not that he cared one bit. Kasimir would have gladly done it again. Another agonising stab of pain pierced his skull and blood slowly ran from his nose.

"No," another pulse and his eyes tightened with the pain, his voice a rasp. "We're not leaving you after we just saved your life," blood started pouring from his other nostril and when he breathed in his lungs sounded wet.

"I might know someone... who can help with the runes," but he had no idea how to find Kala. Nor whether she would want to help them after last time.

 

[Rumer]

She flinched at the warm spray of blood that splattered across the side of her face, her bleary eyes opening as she oh-so-slowly turned to see him collapse, clutching at his throat, the same look of shock and fear plastered on his face as she'd seen in so many faces now. But this one, this one she didn't dare look away from. This one wouldn't wake her in a cold sweat at night. This one would soothe her to sleep, the sound of his gargled breaths a lullaby she'd happily have sung to her every night in the knowledge that it would ease her into a peaceful slumber, her own dark little world already a better place at the sight of him choking on his own blood. She only wished she'd had the time to demonstrate more for him, to do him proud and show just how far her gifts had developed, to write a much longer song.

You..

Yes. Her. Rumer found her lips curling slightly as she watched him die, her fingers unfurling from their fists to splay at her sides and her brow lifting slightly as though to ask him if this had not been what he'd wanted of her. This was what he'd made her. If she was the monster he told her she was, then why was he so surprised?

Had she not done well?...

Then it was over, just like that there was no light left in his hollow eyes and Rumer could only stand there and frown, willing him to wake up and feel some more, her chest still heaving with rage. Genevieve's voice dragged her back into the room and she looked down at her, blinking in confusion before spinning to face Nathaira. Kasimir had been in agreement with what had to be done, she already knew that, but she stared at Nathaira with no small amount of concern. Rumer would never forget those venomous bites she'd been forced to endure after she'd returned from the cabin with Norris. Punishment for being so stupid, for killing one handler and crippling another. Now she had two on her ever growing list of cold blooded murders, and she wasn't entirely certain whether Nathaira would seek to punish her this time.

The heat that had radiated from her skin moments earlier had quickly turned clammy and the colour was draining from her face as she swayed slightly on the spot, staring at her mentor.

Had she not done well?...

 

[Nathaira]

She watched Norris fall as if in a dream. It could not be real, it could not be so easy. Any moment now he would get up, or she would wake up. But Norris did not get up, and as his blood edged slowly across the cold floor she realized he never would, yet she did not feel joy.

Fear. Cold, terrible, crippling fear gripped Nathaira. This was not how it was supposed to happen, was not the carefully calculated circumstances she had known were necessary. She didn’t need the rune to tell her the consequences of their actions.

Her eyes ripped away from the blood at Genevieve’s voice, wild and desperate. The words didn’t make sense, not from her, not from an Anirian. Fear drove her thoughts, and for a few trembling moments she could think of nothing but eliminating all witnesses to Rumer’s crime, but she steadied. Genevieve, for whatever reason, was offering them a chance they could not refuse.

But refuse it they did. Kasimir spoke. How she had longed to hear that rich, soothing voice in her ears again yet she whirled around at his words. Not leaving her? Leaving her was exactly what they needed to do. There was no other option, nothing else to… to…

Rumer’s eyes pierced her heart deeper than any blade ever could. She was not a child, not any more, not by any measure that mattered. There was questioning in those eyes, beseeching. She had done this for them, for her… after everything Nathaira had done to her.

The girl swayed, and with lightning quickness Nathaira was on her knees and holding Rumer, supporting her as she drew her tight against her thin body. Her eyes burned, and she grit her teeth against a heavy surge of emotion. They couldn’t afford that right now, and she couldn’t yet say all the things she needed to say. ‘I’m sorry’ would not be nearly enough.

She looked up to Kasimir with glittering eyes and set her face. Fine, they would take Genevieve with them, but only because Rumer had seen fit to spare her life. If only to make sure the girl’s sacrifice was not in vain.

 

[Genevieve]

"I," the former assistant hesitated as she processed Kasimir's words, "very well. Thank you." There wasn't a reason to not take the half-tiefling up on his offer. After what happened to Silas and now what had happened to Norris she'd be strung up if she stayed behind. Likely worse if she confessed to Norris' murder. She'd already failed as a Dreadlord and by some miracle she was given a second chance to work with the monster of man that the now-dead handler had been.

She wouldn't be given any more chances within Vel Anir.

Hearing Kasimir's words in reference to the friend who could help with the rune problem the three Forsaken now faced was good news but she just nodded in agreement. They may allow her to accompany them but that didn't mean they were going to give her much of a vote on anything. At the very least if they met with trouble among Anirians she could hopefully talk it out, de-escalate the situation so that they could avoid confrontation. And then, once they escaped, she'd have to figure out what the rest of her life was going to mean.

A stunned silence gripped the room when Nathaira clung to the girl. It was such an intimate moment that Genevieve couldn't help but feel awkward to be witnessing it. Instead of staring for much longer she moved towards the injured one and resumed what she had started earlier.

A white fog trailed over his injuries, finalizing the seal of flesh and mending any torn tissues. He'd notice the pain fall away from his arm and the white smoke-like substance drifted upwards towards his bleeding nose. It entered through his nostrils, moving down into his lungs at rapid speed. The mist wouldn't completely heal him, it wasn't powerful enough to, but it would hopefully delay the pull of the rune's magic.

Once she felt satisfied that her healing magic had finished up as much as it could she stepped back from the tiefling and dared a look at the unlikely mother-daughter duo.

 

[Kasimir]

In his detached fashion Kasimir couldn't help but wonder at the fact the rune had not severed his head from his body at the merest thought of killing Norris. However, when he thought about it a little more, he supposed most forsaken as one time or other must have thought of their hatred for a handler and wished them dead. It would be a waste of resources to have their lethal, dark killing machines detonating at the merest stray thought. Perhaps they thought the pain was enough to deter them.

A small part of him wished it had been enough because now Rumer clung to her like a girl drowning and Nat looked at him with tears in her eyes and it seemed he was somehow in charge of the situation. Panic gnawed at him but he shoved it aside. Treat it like a mission, he told himself sternly. He wouldn't have panicked at taking charge in a mission. His thoughts were scrambled momentarily as the human once again crept forward to heal his injuries making him flinch. Not out of dislike, but that drilled in fear of having an Anirian touch him. They had only ever caused him pain until now, until her.

"We need to go."

Where? With what? They had next to nothing but the clothes on their back but there wasn't time to grab anything more. They would make do as they always did. Maybe he could find that cabin he had taken Kala to when she was hurt, the one with her friend. That was a good starting place. As good as any anyway.

"Come on little mouse," he was to tender with his touch against Rumer's hair and down to her back to coax her to her feet.