Fable - Ask The Scent of Lost Magic

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Neith snorted at his gentlemanly claims and shot an incredulous glare at his back. “If you were a gentleman you’d be kinder to the lower classes. You know, urchins?.. Your father raised you to be pompous and arrogant.” She bit back.

“Particularly now that your tables have turned.” She shrugged. “Soon the only ones who will give you the time of day will be those urchins you speak of...”

She looked around as he led the way, her fingertips tracing over tables and vases, her eyes wandering over paintings and peeking into rooms.

“Not particularly.” She shrugged. “So who does this place belong to if not to you?” She asked curiously.
 
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"My father didn't raise me at all." Ky grumbled, more to himself than in answer of her claims.

He had come up under the tutelage of a dozen different maids and nanny's. The only contact he'd had with his father was when it was time for a lesson. His teeth gently chewed the inside of his lip as she continued to talk, deciding it was best not to open his mouth.

She needed to be more vulnerable first. "The Duke Valorai."

Ky told her, not explaining further.

"Go get changed." He insisted as he gestured towards the room again. "I'll run the bath."

Then after a second he added. "My Lady."

Ky needed to go there alone first. There was no way to get what he needed without her seeing otherwise.
 
She didn’t bother to respond to his contradiction, only rolling her eyes at his need for argument.

Her eyes narrowed and folded over his gaunt features in scrutiny at his insistence that she change. A brow rose as she considered him for a moment before giving a slow nod. He was weak, and all he had to do was to offer her hospitality to get what he needed.. If not she’d only hurt him more. Not that she took pleasure in such things..

Her lips thinned irritably. “I’m no noble..” she huffed, and stepped back and into the little room to changed, peeking around the door as she fumbled.

She stripped off her soaking wet clothes and wrapped herself in a fresh towel, covered over with a silk robe. She kept hung up her clothes to dry them, and slipped the vial into the pocket of her robe before going to rejoin him.
 
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Ky didn't hesitate as soon as she moved beyond the doorway. He turned around on his heel and headed directly for the restroom. It didn't take him long to reach, even with his legs struggling to carry him every step.

As soon as he stepped inside he moved over towards the marble wall. His hand swiped over the stone, quickly drawing away the covering he had put in place. Fingers deftly plucked the nearly empty vial of Lyrum, his eyes catching on it's contents before they slipped into his robe.

It wasn't much, but enough.

Enough to give him some strength back and more. Enough that if he did it right he could bring down this whole house.

His hand swiped over the hole in the wall, letting the marble flow back into place as he quickly turned towards the tap next to the bath. Behind it was a large reservoir of rainwater, and beneath it was a pit for a flame. He quickly gathered some of the logs resting nearby, readying the warming pit and using what little magic he had left to create a small spark.

A fire began a second later, the heat almost immediately pouring into the water within. When Neith came into the restroom she would find him crouching, one hand planted on the stone as though he were barely keeping himself upright.

The Fire, as promised, was burning. "Water will be ready in a minute or two."

He told her quietly.
 
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Neith leaned herself against the doorframe, watching him curiously as he seemed hardly able to stop himself from falling over.. "Don't you eat?.." she asked, but it was a stupid question that had nothing to do with nourishment and everything to do with Lyrum. She'd lost count of the many times she'd helped her father stand and half carried him from place to place.

When the steam started rising from the bath she walked around him, giving him wide berth to run her fingers across the warm surface. She was about as desperate for a hot bath as he was for his precious Lyrum. "I appreciate your hospitality. It will work in your favour.." she dipped her chin. Right now she was what stood between Kyril and a whole bunch of much nastier people, it only made sense to treat her with some modicum of kindness to placate the wolves that circled.

"I won't be long..And.." she fixed her gaze on him with another subtle wisp of white smoke in her dark orbs. "It won't take me long to track you down if you decide to leave. We started off on the wrong foot, I'd rather we didn't end things that way too." she smiled, and waited for him to leave.
 
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Ky glanced at the water for a brief moment, lips thinning before he took a step back and towards the doorway. His eyes close for just a brief second as he turned away, his body still clearly struggling to remain upright.

He knew what he had to do.

Though he had been born of privilege, Ky wasn't a fool. His head was a bit more clear now, and although she had not said no...she also had not said yes. With the amount of Lyrum she carried there was no doubt in his mind he would be able to kill whatever goons Cyrus sent, and after that...

Well after that he would figure out how to get more. Cyrus wasn't the only supplier in the world, that much at least he knew. As he left the bathroom Ky pulled out the small vial from within his cloak, glancing at what remained of his Lyrum.

It's enough. He thought to himself as he pulled the cork free.
 
Oh sweet fucking heaven.

After dousing the flames and slipping out of the robe, Neith sunk into the steaming hot bath and her muscles and bones rejoiced, forcing an unintentional groan to shudder past her lips. Her skin tingled in the heated water as it cleansed the weeks of grime and washed away the chill.

As relaxed as she was, she remained alert enough to know if he left the house. She could still hear that thrum of magic, regardless of how low it was. He was still near. She let her eyes close as she slipped further under the surface until the water covered her ears, muffling out the world and leaving her to her own thoughts.
 
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Ky slowly walked down the stairs, the sound of his boots on marble echoing upward. The hood over his head was drawn back, his thumb drawing over the rim of the vial as he slowly moved onto the first floor.

There he lingered for a moment, looking up at the ceiling.

For a few seconds he stood still, lingering in place until he made a small determination. Slowly he stepped over to a section in the living room, counting his steps mentally before coming to a stop. He looked up, and the nodded to himself.

He would have to do this quickly.

A deep breath filled his lungs, drawing deep before slowly going out.

Then he took the Lyrum and suddenly downed it all in one go. The dust filtered through his lungs, his eyes bulging as a rush of life and energy forced itself into his veins. Fire burned through him, ice cascading just inches behind.

The world somehow became more colorful, everything seeming less dim and drab.

His eyes pulsed, then began to glow. One of the tattoos on his left hand grew with light, and then he looked up at the ceiling.

The water that Neith had submerged herself in would suddenly shift and move, grasping and drawing her in further like an ooze slipping over her body. It began to float from the tub, wrapping itself around her and drawing her fully into the bubble that formed.
 
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Neith's eyes opened as the water suddenly felt..heavy. Like a quick sand that dragged her deeper the more she panicked, and panic she did. It seemed to want her to breathe it in, to flood her lungs until there was no air left. Like an idiot she tried to scream, her limbs thrashing frantically, trying to grip the tub and pull herself out, but the water held fast to the riptide it had formed, too strong for her to breach.

Her lungs screamed in pain as she took in water, still trying to swim herself free even as the orb lifted her from the bath to float above it. Her muscles quickly tired from her fruitless attempts at freedom, and her hammering heart struggled to force the blood through her body and she heard every single loud beat of it in her ears as it slowed.

With it's last beat, the magic she stored burst free in the form of bright blue light, an energy she could no longer hold returning to the ether much like a soul. The orb of water glowed, and burst as the light tore through it, sending an aftershock rippling through the building.

Neith's limp body thudded to the floor in the wave of water she'd only moment's ago been relaxing in, and that now filled her lungs instead.
 
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The house seemed to shake as the explosion of water and magic burst within the restroom. Porcelain and marble shattered, broke apart, and Ky felt the rumble of stone as something clattered onto the ground.

His eyes stopped their glowing, the tattoo on his hand snapping back to it's ordinary black color.

The Lyrum was still in his veins, it would stay there for hours yet. The dose he'd taken would last some time, though not if she stole it's power again. A frown touched his lips, but slowly he began to ascend the stairs once more.

Slowly he moved back up to the second floor, carefully turning the corner.

The restroom door was slightly off it's hinges, hanging on a slant.

A frown touched his lips, and slowly Ky stepped forward. The door fell to the side, revealing the destroyed inside of the bathroom. He glanced at her for a moment, seeing her splayed out on the bathroom floor. Then his eyes traced over something else.

Her robe, on the floor, stained with shards of glass and blue. "No!"

Ky hissed as he raced forward, pulling up the robe and grabbing at what powder he could. It disintegrated almost immediately, washing away into the water. Panic and horror pulled over his features.

"Why the fuck would you..." Fuck. Why hadn't she left it with her clothes? "FUCK!"

He cursed, then quickly stepped over to her. His hand's falling upon her sternum to force the water from her lungs. His lips locked onto hers a second later, air breathed into as he did his best to revive her.
 
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Neith was stubborn. Perhaps she enjoyed the bliss that had come after the pain of drowning. The life that had flashed before her eyes had been kind to her once, but the scars on her body, particularly those on her throat, her chest and stomach, would suggest that this had not been her first brush with death.

There was nothing but blackness. No light at the end of a tunnel, no voices, not the face of her mother beckoning her into some golden hall. Just, dark nothingness. But still it felt.. peaceful.

It would be an entire minute before the pain in her chest finally sparked some semblance of consciousness back into her mind, before the water would be forced from her lungs and sputtered from her blue-tinged lips. Everything hurt, her lungs were aflame and her muscles trembled in agony, her head pounded so hard she felt dizzy and the nausea threw out the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside her before she could drag precious air back into her starving lungs.

It was nice whilst it lasted.
 
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Ky pulled himself back as soon as a breath filled her lungs, then shifted a bit more as she vomited the contents of her stomach out onto the floor.

The spell had gone wrong. She had done something. The bubble would have trapped her, rendered her unconscious eventually, but she had fought it somehow. That magic of hers...he didn't know how or what, but it had to be the reason.

Lips thinned for a brief moment.

What did you say to someone who you'd nearly killed? What did you tell someone whom you had to tried to drown? Particularly when the reason for that drowning was now gone. Fingers tightened for a moment, a breath drawing into his lungs.

He was fucked.

He should have let her drown, let her die, but without more Lyrum Cyrus' goons would break him. Without his magic he wasn't a match for anyone.

For a few seconds Ky just sat there quietly, his clothes half soaked as he waited for Neith to collect herself. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Ky said quietly.
 
Neith struggled to push herself up onto her elbow, still leaning over as though she might vomit again at any moment. Her lungs struggled to keep up with the deep breaths, and so short and sharp would have to do, each one shuddered back out and causing her back and shoulders to tremble and shiver.

She didn't speak, she didn't care that he was sitting there or that she was naked and shaking. Tears spilled from her closed eyes, but she didn't care about those either. All she could think about was trying to breathe, about how painful drowning had been, about the darkness that had drawn her in. About how she'd died and about how little anyone would really have cared if she hadn't come back.

She was so incredibly weak. The magic that she had stolen and stored over years was gone, she'd felt it leave, and she was nothing more than an empty vessel. His magic was strong, however, and her jaw tightened with the urge to take it from him.

"You had more Lyrum." she croaked out, almost inaudibly.
 
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Ky looked at her for a few moments, truly looked at her.

Lyrum was a drug like any other, it's side-effects, the pain it caused him and the anguish of it's absence more than real. When it coursed through his veins though, when it was truly, vibrantly alive within him Kyril felt more lucid than ever.

Even the clarity she had offered him had not been like this. This was different. He could see the lines of her face, the tears that rolled down her cheeks, the scars on her skin.

For a few seconds his fingers tightened, a breath drawing into his lungs. With the magic coursing through his veins he could do a thousand things. He could kill her. He could heal her. He could make himself disappear with not even a flourish.

Instead of any of that he just sat there. "Just a dose."

He admitted quietly, steeling himself for whatever anguish she was going to wreak on him.
 
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Her brow furrowed as she lifted a tremulous hand to her throat and chest, wincing at the bruising pain she felt from his effort to revive her.

"Why did you bother?.." she muttered, her voice broken and tired. She didn't look at him as she struggled to her feet, her knees threatening to buckle under her weight as she moved gingerly toward the door, her hand on her pounding head. She slipped in the water and stumbled, only just managing to catch herself on the doorframe with a quiet groan.
 
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He looked up at her for a moment as she stumbled.

Briefly he wondered if that was how pathetic he had looked...if he still looked like that. Blue eyes flickered over his hand, peering down at the bony fingers for a brief moment before he slowly pulled himself up off the floor. "I'm not a killer."

Ky said, taking half a step forward.

With the Lyrum in his veins he felt strong, powerful. He could run a dozen marathons. He was steady, firm, so much more than he had been when she first saw him.

It was the reason why he'd taken the drug, why it had become his life.

"I may be scum, a debtor. A shit son." He grimaced. "But I'm not a killer."

He'd...he'd just wanted the Lyrum. That was all.
 
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"Yes you are." she corrected him. She died. She felt the magic abandon her dying body, her lungs seize, felt the last beat of her heart before it stopped. Her brow rested against her wrist as she steadied herself against the doorframe, her skin shuddering as water dripped from her hair onto her back.

"You're a desperate man. A slave to those little blue vials. Desperate men do desperate things... I'm done here.." she frowned and drew in a breath before she staggered back into the hallway to retrieve her clothes.
 
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He scowled. "No."

It was hard to tell what he was denying.

The accusation that he was a murderer? The thought of her walking away? It didn't really matter. Either way he wasn't about to let her walk away. He moved quickly behind her, his boots squelching against the marble floor as he grabbed her shoulder.

"I need more Lyrum." He said, suddenly pulling her back and throwing her against the wall. His hand pinned her there. "I'm not going to let Cyrus kill me."

Ky hissed. "Where did you get it?"

He demanded.
 
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Her back hit the wall hard and she grimaced as her bones rattled and her head throbbed in pain, another bruise to match the fingerprints already on her throat and the bruising he'd left on her chest. She wondered if he even realised how much he could willingly hurt her for the sake of Lyrum. The scars told stories of the many who'd come before him and the similarities they shared with him.

She had nothing to fight back with, not now those tables had turned, her lips were too tired to hold the smug smirk that she had before. Now she was as vulnerable as she could possibly be. Her gaze rose to meet his in defiance.

"Had you let me rest you'd have had it. It was within my interests to hand it over. Instead you killed me. Drowned me whilst I bathed... Do you know what drowning feels like?...." she asked but didn't wait for a response.

"I need that coin that you owe. You might as well have thrown my body in a ditch. That's where it's going to end up when I return without it." her brow furrowed. She was certain if he hadn't had her pinned to the wall that she'd have slid down it. Her legs weren't holding her up any more, and the edges of her vision darkened..

Neith drew in a pained breath as her gaze narrowed at him in concentration. Veins of light stretched down his arm to the hand that held her as she leeched what she could, whilst she could.
 
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Ky looked at her oddly as she spoke. What did she mean she was going to end up in a ditch? Did Cyrus have something on her? Did he blackmail his employees too? That would make sense, the man was unhinged, dangerous.

The crimelord would use any and all tactic to get ahead, especially if he saw something as valuable. Kyril knew that better than most. When his debt had grown deeper Cyrus had forced him to craft artifacts for him, small magical trinkets that he could use. "Why would he want to kill someone like yo-"

He felt a tickle, an odd, strange little tickle within his arms. He watched it for a moment, then saw her breath catch in her throat.

His hand suddenly shot up.

Fingers sprawled over her mouth as quickly as he saw that strange wisp of smoke draw towards her lips.

"Don't." He warned.
 
The wisp of light sunk back into his arm as he covered her mouth and she let out a sharp huff through her nose against his palm, her shoulders sagging as she glared venomously up at him in resignation. She grumbled a sound that might've been "Alright!" and rolled her eyes, turning her head to try and shift his hand away from her face.

"Can I at least get dressed?" her brow quirked, her jaw clenching as she looked over him in disdain. Not only had he drowned her, not only was she wearing his bruises, but he also seemed not to care that she was naked and shivering with cold. He really was a prick.
 
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Ky grimaced, taking half a step back, his hand drawing away from her. In truth he hadn't even really thought of the fact that she was naked.

Though she was a beautiful woman, the thought simply...didn't occur. With everything running through his mind, with all the panic at having lost the Lyrum and the anger at being called a murderer...she might as well have grabbed his face and smothered him in her breasts and he still would not have noticed.

Lyrum made him more focused, set him on a path. That path had to be followed. "Alright."

He said with a grimace.

"But don't try anything." Ky warned quietly, glancing left for a second as though he'd heard a sound of some sort. Then he looked back at her, frowning a moment. "Do you need help?'

He asked.
 
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"No." she told him dryly as he let her go. It took everything she had not to fall, but for the sake of stubbornness she held herself up. She could barely walk, and so she held onto the walls until she found the linen room where she'd hung her clothes.

A raven was pacing back and forth irritably on the outside ledge of the little window, and he tapped on the glass relentlessly as she stumbled into the room. Her clothes were still cold and wet, they'd do nothing for her shivering, would offer no comfort other than covering her flawed, naked flesh. She trembled as she pulled them on.

Neith fought against her shivering, against her pain and weakness, against the urge to collapse and sleep, but there was only so long she could hold on. Her head throbbed in pain with every move she made, and as she turned back toward the door the room spun and her ears rang, the black dots in her vision taking over entirely as she fell into darkness and onto the floor.
 
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Pride.

He knew the feeling well. He knew what that was like. Never asking for help. Never trying to seek those who might support you. Never wanting to be ashamed or let those who offered be there as a way to stand up.

When he heard her fall, Ky couldn't help but feel a spike of guilt. He had not meant to kill her. He had not meant to end her or even hurt her. The spell had been a form of stasis, a way to keep her away from the vial and that was it.

Yet it had not gone how he'd wanted.

No matter his intention, it had gone how it had, and that meant he was at fault.

Ky didn't know if he would have admitted it, he didn't know if he would have told her, but when she fell he came running. His steps rang over the marble, his magic already flared, and within seconds he pulled her up into his arms.

He pulled her from the floor, dragged the wet and soaking clothes from her form and dressed her in warm wools that he had carried all the way from Elbion. She was placed in his bed, a mattress of soft cotton and goose feathers. A spell was spoken, life breathed into her once more.

It would be hours until she woke, near a day until the magic he wrought on her desiccated form took effect.

By the time Neith pulled herself from the darkness she would find Ky sitting on the side of the bed. The lyrum had left his veins, a shiver ran over his body and his cheeks once again seemed gaunt, empty. A haunting emptiness to his eyes as he sat there waiting.
 
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It took her hours to stop shaking, though it was likely more to do with the withdrawals of the magic that had occupied her veins than the cold any more. Her fingers curled into the soft duvet and her cheek brushed against the cotton pillow, and it took a moment for the confusion of it to rouse her from her slumber.

Her brows furrowed and she forced her eyes to open on him, squinting in the light as she studied his face. The disorientation caused a flutter of panic in her chest and she sat up too quickly as she pulled in a breath, a grimace on her face as she was very quickly reminded of the pain in her lungs.

"What..." the question trailed off before it was even a question as she lifted the blankets to see the soft woollen clothes she was dressed in. She let out a groan and dropped her face into her hands to rub the sleep from her face..

"How long have I been here?.." she croaked, feeling that she'd lost time.
 
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