[Mkguild] MK: Candles in the Dark (1/3)

[Hallan Mirayas]

(As always, text enclosed in /text/ is italicized.)

Candles in the Dark
   by Hallan Mirayas

December 707

   Alexastra slipped into Drift's rooms without a sound and eased the door shut behind her.  "Drift?  Are you here?" she called, careful not to be too loud.  It was very late, and he might be-  A strange sound drew her attention to a new door, just past the cold and unlit forge, one that hadn't been there the last time she had visited.  She checked his bedroom first and, seeing that he wasn't there, quietly opened the new door.  "Honey?"

   She found Drift passed out, slumped over a desk full of drawings.  He did not sleep easy, but whimpered and moaned as if in the grip of a vicious nightmare.  That was the sound that had drawn her attention, and by all rights she should have been pleased.  It meant that her plan was working, to build the stress and strain on her mark until the critical moment came to break him and send him after Linafex, ending that man's contract with her master.

   It should have pleased her, upon his return from the aedra's mission, that Edward had promptly started working himself to exhaustion and that he took to avoiding sleep as much as possible.  It should have pleased her that, at the merest touch on his shoulder, he would wake with a scream of terror.  It should have pleased her that he was so close to the breaking point.

   It didn't.  Kneeling down and cradling him against her as he sobbed into the night, Alexastra wept with him… and she didn't precisely know why.

   That incident had happened nearly two months ago, and Drift had slowly recovered his mental balance after long talks with Misha and that Hough boy.  Her own indecision, however, had only grown stronger with the passage of time.  She had played her part as comforter and confidante as much as the fox and the priest had, but when she'd been given the opportunity to turn up the pressure on him again afterward… she'd hesitated.  She'd put it off for 'later'.  What pleased her instead was seeing his smile come slowly back, seeing him pick up Whirlwind and practice with it after avoiding going anywhere near it for almost three full weeks, seeing him sleep the whole night through again.

   Thus it didn't come as much of a surprise to her when Lord Agemnos summoned her to his throne room.  He had taken the guise of a Midlands lord this time, dressed in sharply tailored black, with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a precisely trimmed goatee that he stroked thoughtfully while he spoke.

   "Alexastra, my dear, it is always a pleasure watching your plans come to fruition: a perfect snare, without a single thread out of place."  He leaned forward.  "But even my patience has limits.  As much as you enjoy your latest toy, he is going to have to be broken sooner or later.  Personally, I would prefer sooner, for Linafex grows tiresome with his complaints.  Still…"  He paused and leaned back in his chair, carefully leaving only the merest hint of irritation in his voice.  "I know you like to craft your traps at your own pace.  I won't tell you to hurry up… yet."  His brown eyes narrowed.  "Don't make me regret my generosity."

   "You won't, my lord," said the raven-haired woman kneeling before his throne.  "Upon my oath to you I promise that, before the month is over, I will bring this matter to a profitable conclusion."

-----

   It had been a week since her lord's veiled ultimatum, and Drift and she had been busy.  He had been busy getting ready for Yule… and she had been busy subtly twisting the knife.  A carefully placed word here, a disguised action there, and his nightmares started coming back again.  On top of that, she added strategic praise of his work around town to bring many new requests for tinsmithing in time for the Yule celebration.  As expected, Drift reacted to both by channeling his stress into long working hours through nonstop days and sleepless nights.  She worked alongside him, feigning weariness and then pushing through it whenever he wanted to stop for her sake.

   It worked like a charm.  "Drift, when was the last time you slept?  You look like death warmed over!"  Alexis heard Wolfram's shocked exclamation through a closed door from an entire room away and carefully hid a smile.  Yes, this was coming along nicely.  Now for another turn of the screw.  Dropping the paintbrush she'd been holding, the she-bat collapsed.  As she fell, she purposely bumped against the wood and fabric construction upon which she'd just been brushing glue, knocking it off its stand with a crash that brought Drift and Wolfram running.

   The touch of Drift's strong arms as he cradled her and the fear in his voice as he called her name clawed at her, but Alexastra crushed those reactions down with ruthless efficiency.  She had a job to do.  She mustn't let herself be distracted now.  She opened her eyes slowly, wearily, and let them take their time focusing on Drift's pretty face.  "Hiya, cutie."

   "Are you all right?" her handsome mark asked, his brow crinkled in that adorably cute puppy look he got when he worried.  "Please tell me you're not hurt!"

   "So dramatic!" she admonished with a smile.  "You always get so dramatic when you're tired-oof!  Drift, dear… I can't breathe…"  Drift loosened his hug a little, but not much, and Alexis wrapped her arms around under his and allowed herself a moment to just savor the feel of him.  "Sorry about the mess," she said once his arms loosened, looking over the chaos her fall had created.  "I must have passed out.  I think we're -both- overtired."

   "What is this?" Wolfram asked as he righted the wood-and-fabric span.  Two feet taller than he was, it was shaped roughly like an inverted triangle with the top corners folded back.  Wooden spars angled like long fingers from a central spine, over all of which was stretched a light fabric that tried to stick to the ram's fingers because of the thin glue Alexis had been painting on it to seal it.  The shape looked strangely familiar to the ram, and his eyes widened when he looked from it to the she-bat and back.  "Drift, you can't be serious."

   "Why not?" Drift asked, lifting Alexis to her feet and making sure she was okay before stepping over to help Wolfram set the glider wing back onto its stand.

   "What's going to keep you from splattering across half the valley if this thing doesn't work?"

   "It will work," Drift replied, ears backed.

   "That sounds nice, but it doesn't have the same reassuring ring as 'I've got a solid escape plan, already in place and repeatedly tested'."  In any other city, Wolfram might have suggested that people weren't meant to fly or they'd have wings.  In Metamor, though…  Wolfram shook his head and sighed, knowing he wouldn't talk his friend out of it.  "Will you at least have a healer waiting close at hand?  You're more entertaining in one piece."

   "I've got something better than that," Drift said, appreciating the ram's shift toward humor.  Turning, he held his hands outstretched toward Alexis.  "Toss me the vest Misha brought, would you, dear?"

   Alexastra knew the look in dear Edward's eye.  Ever since his trip out into the woods two months ago, he had been volatile and impulsive, even more than normal.  Now, he was overtired on top of that, and he was about to do something crazy and foolhardy for the sake of his ego.  Since he'd asked for the vest, she could predict with near certainty what he would do… and it was exactly what she had been waiting for.

   Still, the formalities had to be observed.  As she handed him the vest, she eyed him suspiciously and asked, "What are you scheming now?"

   Drift smiled and tied himself into the vest.  "You just settle down and rest for a while," he said, leaning in to steal a kiss.  "I'll be back in a minute."

   Alexastra twined her fingers into the vest to hold him there just a moment longer.  Just one moment.  That was all she would need to ensure dear Edward's death.  Just one moment to employ two of the greatest gifts of a daedra spymaster.  A moment's push of stealth to hide a hellborn hex, a little nudge of chaos into the vest to weaken its magic, and a final kiss goodbye.  All it would take was a moment, and her mission for her lord would be complete.  One last moment with her Drift…

   She hesitated.  One moment became two… and then three…

   Wolfram coughed, and the awkward noise broke the moment.  Drift drew back from the kiss, his ears and nose flushed and that adorable dopey grin so wide on his trusting face.  He quipped something silly about how he must have been a good boy to get kissed like that, and Alexastra played along out of reflex, patting him on the head and sending the two on their merry way.

   Inside, she was screaming.  She paced the room in a frantic mania, desperately trying to convince herself to chase after him, and just as desperately trying not to.     She wanted to run.  She wanted to stay.  She wanted…  She wanted…

   She wanted.  And in a burst of insight as bright as the morning star, she knew what she had to do.

   She ran as if her life depended on it.

   Voices screamed in her head.  /Have you gone mad?  Lord Agemnos will be furious if he finds out!  He'll kill you!  Or he'll do something even worse, and then/ not /kill you!  This is a disaster waiting to happen!/

   /Only if I let it become one/, Alexastra thought in reply… and then doubled over in pain.  The Keep, capricious as ever, had placed her path squarely across the front steps of the Lothanasi temple.  Just being near its holy ground was agonizing, like being squeezed in a vice from every direction at once, and she crumpled against the wall with a gasp.  The truthful aura of the temple clawed at her mask of stealth like a hungry beast, forcing her to push all her strength into it lest it falter.  If it slipped for even an instant, the Keep would recognize her as a daedra and…

   Wait… this wasn't caprice.  Alexastra felt questioning eyes on her.  The accursed nymph must have intended her to pick up a healer on the way!  /Damn you, Kyia!  This is not helping!/  She forced herself to keep moving through the pain, lurching forward and feigning a massive leg cramp to excuse her collapse.  "No time.  No time.  Drift!"

   Her desperate gamble paid off.  Rounding the first corner she came to brought her two highly welcome sensations:  a cold outdoor breeze and an end to the crushing pain of Kammoloth-blessed ground.

   "Drift, are you out of your mind?!  When I said well-tested, I didn't mean jump off the fourth-highest tower in the Keep!  Get down!"

   That was Wolfram's voice!  She still had time.  "Drift!  Drift, wait!  Stop!"  Still maintaining the act of a cramped leg, she hobbled as fast as she could toward the wall top, snow crunching underfoot.  Drift climbed down from the wall, his body tense with alarm, and she collapsed into his arms and held him tight.  "Please don't do it," she begged.  "Please.  I have a terrible feeling about this."  This close, she could feel her hex twisting the vest's magic awry and she angrily wrenched it loose and dissipated it before it could do more damage.  She could repair the enchantment later, when she had… when she…

   "Alex?" Drift asked, alarmed.  "Alex, you're shaking!  Are you all right?"

   Alexastra burst into tears.  Burying her face in his soft chest fur, she sobbed, "No.  No, I'm not."

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