 Posted:
Sat Dec 31, 2005 8:21 am |
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I drummed my fingers impatiently on the tabletop as I tried once more to find a more comfortable position in the rough stone chair. It was a fruitless effort, I knew, since not once in an entire decade of my association with that accursed seat had I come away without feeling bruised, bent and more than a little irritated.
I placed a foot on my knee and slumped slightly, watching Erishmikal as he painstakingly prepared the last of his foul smelling concoctions. His grizzled gray brows knitted together over his hawkish nose in concentration as his gnarled fingers carefully manipulated the assorted vials and glass rods. He ignored me completely, as had been his way for so many years. I was there to watch and learn and be spoken to only if deemed absolutely necessary. I did not mind the silence much. I disliked Erishmikal intensely, and did not doubt that if I had to hear his raspy voice too often, I'd eventually slide my blade across his throat.
The sands seemed to trickle through the hourglass even more slowly than usual. I was watching dust motes dance in the light from the corner of my eye and daydreaming about a near future devoid of backbreaking stone chairs when Erishmikal cleared his throat and spoke.
“There is a time for every poison, and a poison for every time.â€Â
I waited. Surely this couldn't have been all he had meant to say? Even the greenest novice knew that. I gazed at him patiently as he cleared his throat again and continued in a voice that sounded like rustling papyrus.
“This will poison water and wine. A few drops in a goblet will suffice to kill your intended prey. An entire vial in a village well will bring on a sickness severe enough to kill some, but not all. Be prudent,†he said, the look in his clouded eyes skeptical about any prudence I might possess. He handed me a small vial of clear liquid, which I took with a smirk and placed in a pocket of my belt.
“Be careful with this. It is a vapor which will render you unconscious and lifeless for a time if taken correctly. You will revive within the hour. If you mean to use it on another, they must inhale it at least three times if you mean death. This one, this oil is to be smeared on your blades periodically. It kills quickly once the flesh is cut, but will only burn and cause much pain if applied on the skin.†The rasp in his voice held a certain glee at the thought of my fingers burning from what must surely be a careless application of the brew.
He pushed the vials across the table towards me, his hands trembling slightly with age. I pocketed the vials and leaned back in my stone chair, one eyebrow raised slightly as I observed the aging alchemist. He turned his back on me as he had done at the end of every one of our sessions for the last ten years. I gazed upon his long silver hair, now grown so thin that I could see the liver spots upon his scalp. His back was hunched and crooked, his shoulders sharp and pointed. He had become frail, and his frailty made his contempt of me and all who made use of the brews he concocted impotent and even amusing. The great and fallen Erishmikal, master alchemist of the sect of the Nightstealers was fading.
I grinned slightly at the thought of his hatred towards me and my kind. For all his contempt, he was still our slave. Even I, a girl who had seen only fifteen seasons, was his mistress and ruler. Owner, even, for he would pay for a crime older than my life until his dying day. One did not take a Nightstealer against her will without paying with his very life, in one way or another.
I stood and turned to leave, my fingers caressing the hilt of the dagger at my hip as I glanced over my shoulder at his bent form. He was shaking his head and muttering, his wispy hair floating around his head.
“Is that all, then? Is there nothing more you have to teach me?†I waited, knowing the answer and hoping against hope he would give me just one reason, no matter how slight, to sink my blade between his ribs. He must have known my desire, for he only nodded his head as he turned to face me and mumbled something about my training being over.
I nodded slightly, a smirk of superiority on my face as I gazed upon him. I returned his contempt of ten years in full force, fueled by our shared knowledge that he was now and forever at my mercy. I laughed softly as I turned to go.
“Goodbye, Father.â€Â
I walked through the stone archway and into the scorching daylight as sand swirled around me. It was time, I knew. I turned my steps towards an imposing sandstone temple nearby. As I walked, I heard the sorrowful wails of an old enslaved man become lost in the howling wind, and I smiled. |
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Anonymous
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