Private Tales Truths In Blood

[Theron]

Theron stared at Seyah a moment, her words ringing in his ears before they began to sank within and he came to a realisation of what she had meant.

His eyes then traveled her face, taking in the features and wondered to himself if this were her true face? Did she have a true face? And yet he could not imagine her with another face than the one he was studying.

"I..." He found her eyes again. "Might need more time to convince myself to agree to your... ahem, suggestion." He had cleared his throat and washed it down with his drink, leaning down to place it on a nearby table to show that he was done with drinking. Theron needed to have his head straight, and he was not sure if Seyah's truth or the drink had made him feel slightly off.

Perhaps drinking would make him amenable to undergoing the changes she could do.

 

[Seyah]

Seyah smiled faintly, a sad almost pitiable thing. "I understand."

There were few Tyrian's who would not feel the same. The Blood was a Sacred thing for their people, held in the highest regard. Children were often told of the Witches, not to scare them to sleep, but as something to look up to.

Defying their will was a terror to even the most modern of her people.

"But I implore you to see the sense in this plan." Seyah pushed gently. "We can save Lady Altori, and do it in a way that is safe for us all."

She reminded, leaving the bottle on the table for him to take. "I know more than most the...dangers of what I am, Theron. But I am not evil."

Wasn't she?

Seyah frowned, but continued nonetheless.

"I want to save this girl." She let her fingers gently draw over the edges of the sofa's arm. "And I want to do it in a way where no one has to get hurt."

 

[Theron]

Theron stared at her.

Of course she was not evil, and his face softened when he realised how plainly it expressed his shock at her news and idea. "Fuck, Seyah, I... I know you're not evil..."

And she was willing to put herself out there to save the girl. To help a family get their closure and happiness.

To put away a criminal.

He closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe.

"Will I feel different? Assuming you can... change me... with your..." Being nervous was new for Theron. It was rare, and his expression darkened into a frown at the thought of being so vulnerable before someone he only began to trust to work with only the night before. "What will I expect if I agree to do it?"

 

[Seyah]

There. He'd agreed, or at least, was taking steps to agree. She supposed that it was the most she could have hoped for in this. Using the Blood was natural to Tyrian's, but only when it was their own. This was something all together different, forbidden.

If the Blood Witches learned... "The change will be painful."

Seyah would not lie. There were those Tyrian's whose natural gift was the changing of shape, but she was not among them. The Blood was strong within her, and her mothers teachings were the only reasons she held the knowledge to make this possible.

While others were constrained in their talents, Seyah could step beyond. Like the Blood Witches could.

"But once it is done, it will be no different than wearing your own skin." She explained. "There is not much for you to do."

Seyah admitted. "It's all up to me, and my blood."

She added, knowing the words would bring more discomfort.

 

[Theron]

He was quiet for a moment before letting out a sigh and leaned back to fill his abandoned glass.

"Well, Seyah darling. If you're going to cause me pain..." Theron raised his glass to no one in particular. "Then it may as well be to help another be brought back to safety."

He downed the drink.

He could feel his blood being pumped through veins all over his body, aware of how his heart was beating in that moment. Was he nervous? The great Bloodletter... anxious over some pain?

Trust in her. This would all fall apart if he could not accept what needed to be done. So if a little or three cups of liquid courage was the only way he could bring himself to do so, then he would do it.

"Alright... so... we doing this now?" He asked, clearing his throat and tried his best to keep his voice stable and not lilting at the end with uncertainty. Theron shook his arms, working himself up to the idea and readying himself for the pain she spoke of.

 

[Seyah]

Seyah considered him carefully, watching every line of his face, the way he shifted ever so slightly in his chair. Theron was nervous, anxious even, though he hid it better than most.

She imagined that in his line of work, through the course of his day, he was utter steel. But a situation like this was not often presented to men like him. Members of the Deathwatch were stalwart bastions of the law. The traditions of Tyr stood nearly above even that. "I need some things first."

The Taverness said slowly.

"We will need to choose the faces that we are to take." She already had hers, of course, the same which she had used to visit the Altori's. But Theron would need to pick one of Polgir's lieutenants. "Throgmir might work for you."

She suggested, though would leave the option to hers. "Then the ritual will take about an hour to prepare."

Long enough for Theron to change his mind, but this was not something she could rush. Nor something he would want her to.

 

[Theron]

Theron swore, winced, grimaced, and sighed.

It sounded like a bad idea with each word she spoke, but Seyah had an allure to her. It was the promise of trust, that at any point she could have turned against him, and yet she had not. She gave him resources, leads, and even he had to admit his abilities to scent blood gave nothing away to her own being spoiled.

He was quick to build trust with her because she had let him in to see what it was she was protecting.

"Whatever you need from me, Taverness." Theron even managed a smile, hoping to convince himself to not bail on their plans.

Because he certainly had no other idea to getting this over and done with.

"Although I think I deserve a prettier face than Throgmir..." In which he would insist on his own face, but everyone in Tyr knew about the Bloodletter in the Watch.

 

[Seyah]

A grin spread on her lips. "Well, you have an hour to find me a likeness."

There were no limits to how far her magics could go, not in this at least, but the greater the change the more pain there would be. Those who held this gift natively within their Blood experienced less so, but neither of them had such a blessing.

"I will make the preparations." She had already done so to go to the Altori's, and everything else would be just as a matter of fact. "Find a new face, or relax here. The choice is yours, Theron."

Slowly she stood, placing her own glass on the table. "You're always welcome here."

The Taverness mused, flashing another smile before she began to head towards a pair of double doors at the back of the room. Her fingers gently pulling at a latch, revealing only the briefest glimpse into a room shrouded in darkness, lit only by candles of flickering red light. Odd scrawlings upon the wall, and even stranger marks carved within the floor.

No matter what Theron decided, an hour would pass before it was that very room which she lead him into. The strange markings becoming more clear, not the mar of witchcraft, but a call to their Ancestors.

The Blood.

 

[Theron]

He really should have left the room and found a better face, but the ides of himself going about to shop and browse for something left an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Seyah went into her room, hearing preparations being made for a few minutes. He sprawled across the lounging chair they had both sat at, groaning with relief as he found it so comfortable, it beckoned him to rest. Theron would have have actively fought to keep awake, but the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

"Just... closing my eyes... better than... drinking... my worries away..." Unsure whom he spoke to, his eyes fluttered with sleep.

For only twenty minutes would Seyah hear his gentle snores, the several drinks he had in quick succession aiding in his slumber.

 

[Seyah]

The Taverness let him sleep longer than the hour she had promised. The working of rituals were not simple, and the more care she took the less chance there would be of something going wrong. Seyah's mother had taught her well, but that did not mean she was perfect.

Still, it was not long after the promised time when she gently nudged at his arm.

Below, the noise from guests and patrons had died to a lull. The Ogre guards she kept having made sure most people had left. There was never any telling who had what gift, save for by loose lips of course, but it was better not to take a chance.

Not when what they were doing could get them burned. "Theron."

Seyah nudged gently, waking him as softly as she could. Noting the level of the bottle she had left him with as she did.

"It is time." The moon was slowly crawling towards it's zenith, and the ritual was ready. The faster they could do this the less of a chance there would be of something going wrong. Or worse.

 

[Theron]

He groaned, pushing away her hand, but her voice broke the barrier of sleep and reality. Theron groaned louder, pulling himself to a sitting position and taking in his surroundings. He found Seyah next, the room she had disappeared into leering from behind.

"Fuck." He winced. "Throgmir it is." The male sighed and ran a hand over his face in hopes to wipe the sleep from himself.

Standing, he stretched his arms out and let out a deep yawn before turning to the Taverness once again.

"Alright, darlin'. What's first? Am I going... in there?" His hesitation had returned, but it was more the idea of the room's presence that unnerved him than the idea of himself becoming Throgmir for a time.

 

[Seyah]

"Please." Seyah said with a gentle wave of her hand towards the door.

A part of her felt a pang of guilt for doing this.

The traditions of their people were not something to be taken lightly, and many Tyrian's would rather spill their own Blood than break them. Seyah knew that she had pushed Theron into this, had guided his choice in breaking the rites.

She couldn't help but feel as though she had damned him. "It's not difficult."

Seyah assured him as she gently began to make her way back towards the doors. This time pushing them open properly to reveal the room beyond. The walls were made of a dark and heavy food, carved with endless symbols and whispers of the Ancient language of Tyr. The ceiling's and walls cut in the same but less complex patterns.

At the end of the room, stretching further than it had any right to, stood an altar of black stone. Upon it lay a linen of red, draped down and adorned with a symbol of House Al'Vere. One of the ancient lines of Tyr's Kings. Talmanes' line.

Upon the altar stood two chalices, each already filled with crimson.

"I will need some of your blood." She explained, stepping into the room. "And after that, all you will need to do is drink."

 

[Theron]

Theron took one step closer to the room, only because he moved as Seyah did. He watched her face, saw the anguish she held in her eyes and his shoulders sagged.

He closed his eyes again, but not to sleep. A prayer, for someone not so interested in doing such a thing, he felt it best to ask for forgiveness and protection. For himself and Seyah.

Then he opened his eyes and moved slowly towards the door. He got to it's frame before he leaned against it to peer into the room. He had no idea what he was looking for, but all this strangeness, this instinct to leave... Seyah and her words were the only thing that kept him there.

"My blood..." It was clear on his face he was alarmed, but he took another step inside the room. Another step closer to Seyah, the only thing he trusted in these four walls. "Not hard to pay a small price for another drink offered by you." He smiled, small and half hearted, but it changed his alarm into something more... complacent.

 

[Seyah]

The smile on her lips, slight as it was, lingered for a second longer than it otherwise might have. For a heartbeat or more, the Witch said nothing. Her eyes hanging upon him before slowly she turned away and beckoned with her right hand.

It was a strange walk towards the altar.

Each step seemed labored, longer. The carvings within the Dark wood seeming to multiply and move as Seyah guided Theron inside. "The Temples are like this."

She explained softly as they came to the end of the room. Steps still echoing as the glint of steel came into her palm. The knife she had drawn from seemingly nowhere glinting from the odd red light flickering from the candles.

"Those the Blood Witches occupy in the Ash Wastes." Seyah took his hand. "I drew the patterns from my mothers memory."

The words came as she pricked the tip of his finger, drawing only the barest hint of blood. Guiding his hand over the goblet. A word was whispered from her lips as the crimson joined it's pool. Splashing barely. "They are the words of our Ancestors."

Seyah said as she looked up at him. "Nothing to fear."

As she said the word, a pulse seemed to run through the room. Echoing from the cup beneath his hand.

 

[Theron]

Was she witching him already?

With her smiles and her voice soft, as if he were a rabbit ready to scare, Theron still followed her deeper into the room. His eyes dared to look around, everything held a beauty, but Theron always knew there was betrayal waiting beneath such beautiful things.

The altar made him hesitate again, but his feet kept walking.

But when Seyah told him there was nothing to fear, the moment he looked down at her, strangeness and power filled the room like thick air. She would see his eyes flare as his feet stayed rooted to the spot.

"Seyah." His voice a warning. "Get this done."

 

[Seyah]

"It's done." She said simply, drawing her fingers away from his and slowly waving them towards the cup beneath his palm.

"Drink this." Since he had chosen none other, Seyah had needed to use Throgmir as his likeness. The effects would be swift, and come with utter agony as his bones were stretched, skin rearranged. and features burned through colors. "That is all you need to do."

The Taverness said as she picked up her own cup, already prepared.

Fingers laced gently around the cold silver, and without a moment of hesitation brought the concoction to her lips.

Involuntarily, her gaze opened wide. Blood tracing through the whites of her eyes as her skin began to shift and change. The tone of her flesh flickering darker, her hair becoming more light, the slow elongating of her fingers.

Not a whimper passed her lips, but pain lanced through her as it would him.

The change coming so swiftly, that within the span of two breaths an entirely different woman stood in her place.

 

[Theron]

Witched.

He tried not to flinch, realising he had lifted his hand enough for a cup to collect what it needed from him. Theron had some memory of willingly doing so, but the distractions in this room were far too tempting to keep him occupied of what he was doing. When blood came into play, it drove him into a madness, and awareness of needing to know where it came from. His own blood only made him stand taller, but whatever was in her cup, it made his nostrils flare.

Ease up, Bloodletter.

Theron cleared his throat, trying to breathe slower so as to not scent the cups with every inhale. He tilted his cup to his lips, but Theron's eyes were forever fixed on Seyah as her own transformations were underway.

It was wrong, the way she looked at him with familiarity when wearing a stranger's eyes.

"I think I prefer you the way you are." Theron announced after his eyes gave her a once over. He lifted his cup, raising his own toast before knocking it back.

Foul and foul. Fouler still; strangeness and anxiety.

It filled him, a magic that should no longer exist. The cup dropped from his hand, his transforming hand and Theron threw himself to the floor with the loudest, deepest roar of regret.

 

[Seyah]

Seyah smiled. "It is a good thing I can change back."

Though that too would bring pain.

It was the toll of the Blood. The power that each of them held coming with an innate cost. Her own Witchery was an echo of that which their Ancestors could do with a snap of the finger. An evocation of the power held in their veins.

Her smile seemed to falter as Theron picked up the chalice, watching as he brought it to his lips. A grimace forming on her features as he bucked back and fell to his knees, lips parting in a roar of pain and regret that she had heard more than once before.

Slowly she knelt besides him. "Breath."

The Taverness commanded, stroking fingers over his changing hair.

"Just breath." Seyah encouraged. "The pain will pass."

It always did.

 

[Theron]

Her gentle touch was enough to startle him from the fog of pain, a welcome distraction from the horrors he was experiencing with his change. Theron wanted to cry out, to yell and roar as he no longer felt like him.

There was a strangeness, nothing familiar about himself.

He felt his jaw change, his frame grow taller and broader. His scalp tickled beneath the soothing touch Seyah provided.

And now, Theron became the fae that Throgmir was... no, he was Throgmir!

There was no mistaking the green tinged skin known of the male Theron had watched all night.

"Let us get this over with so that you may change me back." His words held a natural growl, making him wonder what type of fae he truly was.