Kings of Deceit - R

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Perhaps self medicating was not the wisest or healthiest of options, but today was one of the many in which Rhys threw moderation wayside.

"Easy there," warned Victor, slipping Rhys' glass from his hand after one too many refills. "As much as I enjoy your drunken ramblings - which I believe Jessa has not been privileged to see yet," Jessa laughed, shaking her head, "I much prefer them when they are born out of good feelings rather than angry drinking."

"Don't tell me what to do," Rhys snapped, though he did not reach for his cup again, surrendering it to Victor who began to drink with a sly smile. Rhys felt good, elated even, and as he laid back in his chair and listened in on the coversations that surrounded him he smiled, forgetting all about Anja.

"... and that is how I came to be known as the Shame of Jasrah."

"No one calls you that," Freya laughed, shoving Ero playfully as he hung his head in mock shame. Jessa sat across from the duo, head in her hands as she listened enraptured to Ero's wild tales.

"Maybe not out loud but I assure you that's what they all think secretly as I pass on the streets."

"Are you telling Jessa of he time you ran through the street naked after a rather drunken night?" Rhys interjected, leaning over into the circle.

"You didn't!" Jessa exclaimed, looking wide eyed at Ero. Freya erupted in laughter and even Ero grinned, shaking his head.

"Unfortunately I cannot claim to that, though I wish I could. Though the story is true the man in question is our lovely friend Victor."

Victor turned at the sound of his name, slapping his hand down on the table. "Damn right I did, and I don't regret a second of it. Best thing I ever did."

Rhys leaned into Jessa, whispering in her ear. "He's had a sheltered life."

The friends shot insults back and forth throughout the night, bickering with good nature until there were few secrets that had not been spilled or stories that had not been relayed at least twice, for in their state everyone seemed to suffer from some short term memory loss. Even Jessa, in contrast to her fairly moderate beginnings at the tavern, was drinking in tandem with the group, divulging her own stories with an enthusiasm Rhys had never seen, nor expected, from someone so serious. After the conversation dulled the group became two separate entities: one, Freya perched on Ero's lap, the two tied together in one long passionate kiss, the other being Victor, Rhys, and Jessa, all looking slightly uncomortable.

"Every damn time," Rhys sighed. "Would it kill them to at least wait until they found somewhere private? I'm convinced that one day they'll be so drunk that clothes will come off in the middle of the floor and I'll have to slap Ero upside the head to bring him back to his senses."

Victor snorted and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slowly at Rhys. "You're one to talk. You and Selene were just as bad, if not worse. Frankly I'm just happy to no longer be the third wheel - now we can all enjoy that pleasure."

The shock on Jessa's face only seemed to fuel Victor's rantings, for Rhys guessed Victor was simply glad to have someone to complain to who had not already been privy to the stories which he divulged.

"Oh, you haven't been told?" Victor glanced briefly at Rhys, reveling in Rhys' silent protest. "Rhys and Selene were the worst, the absolute worst. There wasn't a day that passed in which I wasn't forced to see Rhys' tongue shoved down her throat." Victor shuddered in fake horror. "I'm forever scarred by the views I have been exposed to."

Rhys glanced at Jessa and in that moment he was sure they were both thinking of her accidental intrusion into Rhys' last night with Selene. He looked away abashed, though his buzz kept him from feeling too embarrassed. He tried to speak up against Victor but once the man began his stories there was really no stopping him.

"Do you want to know the worst part?" said Victor, leaning across the table very close to Jessa. She nodded hesitantly, looking briefly at Rhys who sat back with his arms crossed. "It was sickeningly sweet. They were so damn perfect together it made me want to puke. The way they spoke to each other, the way they would gaze at each other, it was like watching a love story from a book come to life. Sickening, yes?"

Suddenly Rhys was not in such a good mood, though it had nothing to do with thoughts of his father. Victor's speech only brought on a slew of memories, memories very much like the current night but much happier. Yet despite the accompanying pain the always came with such memories Rhys felt oddly at ease. His mood had soured, that was true, and there was a dull ache in his chest at the mention of Selene, but it all seemed somehow less painful. He wondered if it was the alcohol doing the work or whether the passage of time had begun its work, but some force was at work to numb his pain and for that Rhys was grateful.

"Why isn't Selene here?" Rhys asked, wondering why the question had only now been raised.

For a moment Victor looked slightly awkward, not quite his usual forward self. "I think she's having a difficult time with ... you know, 'the transition.'" Victor made air quotes with his fingers, trying to stay as neutral as possible, but Rhys knew the true meaning of his words.

"She's avoiding me?" He asked, feeling dumbfounded.

Shrugging, Victor changed the subject, trying to once again entertain them all with a hunting story gone wrong, but despite Jessa's feigned interest Rhys could tell she was still contemplating Victor's story. Rhys, however, was determined to let the subject slide. He had come here to drown away his tumultuous emotions over the inheritance - he would not let himself get riled up over Selene. Not tonight.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

She had her answer, at least. Though she tried to focus on Victor’s story, she could not help thinking that she had ruined Rhys’s and Selene’s life. Of course, it had not been her choice to marry the noble, but nevertheless she was the only one standing between the previously loved-up couple. She felt hollow and took a sip of wine. It tasted sour in her mouth, and she was no longer in the mood for company. Still, she forced herself to stay and listen to Victor – whose stories would have been amusing in any other situation.

She watched as Rhys ordered another drink and gulped it down. It was clear from every muscle in his body that he was upset about something, but whether it was Selene or the inheritance she did not know. It was true that he was quieter since his old lover had been mentioned, though there was a determination in him as he drank that indicated he did not want to be thinking about her. He just could not help it.

Jessa bit her lip. The table had fallen silent as Victor either had no more stories to share or could tell no one was really listening. Ero and Freya were still too wrapped up in each other to notice the tension at the table. Jessa sighed and leaned back in her chair. It had seemed like the tavern would be a good idea, and it had worked for a little bit, but now Rhys was melancholy and it was affecting everyone else.

“Victor,” she started, attracting his attention from the bottom of his mug. He looked up, his eyes wide as if he was startled. The man was drunker than she had thought. “Have I told you about the time when I was five years old and convinced I was in love with one of the sons of the castle stable master? I made such a fool of myself.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rhys look up. She glimpsed intrigue in his eyes; of course he did not think Jessa had ever come close to kissing another person. Victor guffawed, though the story was not especially funny. “What happened?”

“Oh, I tried to kiss him once. We were in the stables and I think I… alarmed him. He pushed me and I… fell into the mud.” A smile tugged at her lips in remembrance, while Victor hooted, banging his fist on the table and wobbling the drinks. Ero and Freya broke apart, looking around wildly. Freya exclaimed, “What in all of Etrene is going on?”

“Jessa… just…” Victor gasped between laughs, shaking his head.

“I was the victim of unrequited love. Apparently it’s hilarious,” she said, deadpanned. Ero raised his eyebrows and his expression told her that he wanted to know everything later, but the allure of Freya was apparently too much. A moment later they had forgotten about everyone else again, glued to each other.

Jessa glanced at Rhys. He had barely moved since Jessa’s story. She had wanted more of a reaction than his initial curiosity. She bit her lip, watching as he stumbled over to the bar to buy another drink. He swayed a little; Jessa decided it would soon be time for them to leave.

Once Rhys had finished his drink, Jessa stood. Rhys watched her blearily as she said, “I think it’s best if we go.”

Victor laughed. “Oh, she’s got you on a tight leash.”

Rhys scowled and refused to let Jessa haul him to his feet. She huffed and glared at him. “I will just leave you here.”

“Fine. I can get back by myself. I managed it before you,” he mumbled.

“No you didn’t. Selene always helped,” Victor declared unthinkingly. Jessa shot him a fierce look, but he stared back at her blankly. She shook her head.

“Seriously, Rhys,” she said, yanking at his arm more forcefully. “You’ve had enough and we need to get back. You like the beach, yes? We’ll walk along there.”

Rhys sighed heavily but conceded, getting to his feet. He wobbled and leaned against Jessa briefly. When he realised who he was using to steady himself, he shot away faster than she had seen anyone, particularly inebriated, move. Jessa might have laughed had she not felt insulted.

After much manoeuvring, Jessa was relieved to go through the door. The night air cooled her face and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Rhys stumbled down the cobbled streets passed her. When she noticed his absence, she rushed to catch up with him. They wandered down the streets towards the sea front in silence.

When they reached the beach, Jessa stopped and looked out over the sea. It was still and dark. There were no boats because of the late hour, and the naturalness of it soothed her. As she watched, Jessa managed to work up the courage to say what she had been thinking since the tavern. She looked for Rhys, and found kicking at the stones a little way ahead of her. She could hear him mumbling to the floor; it sounded like he was cursing his father. She bit her lip and hurried towards him.

“Rhys,” she began. He looked at her, fire in his eyes until he recognised that she was not his father. She steeled herself. “I don’t mean to press.”

“But you’re going to anyway,” Rhys interrupted, shaking his head wearily and turning his head away. Jessa would not let him deter her; she moved to his other side and waited until he focused on her.

“I know you’re still in love with Selene, that’s no more or less than I would expect. My offer still stands,” she said quietly.

Rhys laughed humourlessly. “No.”

“Rhys, please. She’s avoiding her friends because she cannot bear to be around you and you light up when you see her. I’m not stupid.”

“Shut up, Jessa,” Rhys warned, picking up speed and nearly stumbling in the process. Jessa caught him under his arms and righted him.

“No,” she told him sternly. “This marriage was neither of our choices. I don’t expect you to ignore someone you love for someone you tolerate. That isn’t fair. I won’t stand in your way, Rhys, if you want to be with her.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

It was a wonder he could formulate his sober thoughts in his drunken, half lucid state, but Jessa's insistance in pressing her point only made Rhys more determined to make himself understood.

"I'm not doing this for you," he spat, watching Jessa recoil at his harshness. He immediately regretted his tone, trying to soften his voice. "I'm sorry, I don't mean it like that. I'm not with Selene for her, not because I feel any moral obligation to you. I think you've figured out that moral obligations aren't my family's strong suit."

"I don't -" Jessa began but Rhys cut her off instantly, waving his arms stupidly in his drunkenness.

"She offered to be my mistress, did you know that?"

Jessa quieted instantly, looking taken back. She shook her head, obviously uncomfortable. Rhys laughed dryly, bitterly, casting a stone into the ocean.

"I said no. Soon, remarkably soon considering how old she is, Selene will be forced to marry. There aren't enough noble families in Jasrah with eligible bachelors for a marriage of high enough status for Selene's family, so the probability of her moving off somewhere is high. If we chose to stay together, no matter for how long, do you really think it would be any less painful when we'd inevitably be forced to break apart? Besides, if we were to continue an affair while she was married it would be... problematic." Jessa did not seem to comprehend, looking at Rhys blankly. "If Selene were to become pregnant then the father of the child would be under question which is never good for our sort of families."

If Jessa looked uncomfortable before she was positively silent now. She could not meet Rhys' eyes, keeping her gaze fixed somewhere out on the ocean. Rhys watched her for a moment, using the quiet to help dull the throbbing of his head. When Jessa composed her thoughts, and emotions, enough to look back at Rhys her eyes were still sad but her posture indicated she had regained her earlier determination.

"But until then, for you don't know how long it could be until she is married, wouldn't it be best to stay together? After all, isn't any amount of happiness worth the eventual pain?"

Rhys chuckled with a shake of his head, finding a long lost genuine smile. "Aren't you the philosopher?" He would have said something else clever, something at the tip of his tongue, but at that moment he stumbled over a piece of driftwood and Jessa was forced to hold him upright before he fell to the sand. Perhaps sober he would have been embarrassed for this, but now we only laughed again, not quite sure whether the sound was genuine.

"Well, I suppose I'm not the only one who had reasons to end our relationship in its butchered state. Selene had a reason as well, though I imagine it was more of an afterthought."

"What was it?"

"She wanted me to be free to fall in love with you."

How did one respond to something like that? Rhys did not know, and so he looked to Jessa for an answer, not quite sure what sort of reaction he was expecting. Perhaps he had expected shock, maybe even outrage, but nether quiet matched Jessa's demeanor. No, she appeared embarrassed, though the very thought was one Rhys could not wrap his mind around.

"Yes, I believe her exact words were something along the lines of, 'it's only fair.' Ever the romantic, that one." Rhys tried not to think of the night those words had been spoken, for that only replayed memories of Selene's lips on his and her hands on his body, and such thoughts only made him bitter in longing.

Their aimless walking had taken Rhys and Jessa to somewhere on the beach unfamiliar to even Rhys in the dark, and finding himself too tired and too unbalanced to turn back Rhys found a smooth, flat rock and sat down, hunching over. Jessa joined him shortly, though Rhys suspected she was not very fond of the idea of having to walk back home alone if he was to fall asleep on the beach.

A sudden question came to his head, one that had never held much weight to Rhys before but suddenly seemed to be begging to be answered. Rhys knew it was something he would undoubtedly never ask were he lucid, something he would probably not give a moment's thought to, but perhaps drunkenness had some value for the surge of boldness it gave Rhys.

"Selene told me something once not too long ago, after you and her spoke after Merai attacked you. She'd mentioned something you'd told her that you probably didn't think anything of at the time." If Jessa knew of the statement of which he spoke she did not show it, appearing more confused than anything. "You told Selene -correct me if I'm wrong - that you could not imagine how anyone could love me." Rhys paused, gathering the last of his brazen disregard for his own good judgement. He was not sure why his question mattered, but he asked it regardless. "Do you still think that?"

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa’s face flamed. She had not even thought about the comment, and neither had she considered the fact that Selene might tell Rhys. At the time, she would not have cared, but since she had come to know Rhys a little better – seen him show mercy and seen him with his friends – her words sounded harsh.

“I… don’t know,” she stammered. Rhys raised his eyebrows, though she thought she detected hurt brewing somewhere deep down. “I guess… I could see what some people might like about you. With your friends you let loose more than anything. That’ll be what Selene has seen. She hasn’t had to live with you.”

Her last words were meant as a joke, but from Rhys blank face she could not say if he had taken it as such. When he did not reply, she shrugged lamely. “And I would not be surprised if you had more enemies than friends.”

Rhys appeared a little taken aback by her frankness, but Jessa did not feel like sugar-coating. Whatever she said to Rhys, he needed to hear. She was not trying to reform him or anything so ridiculous; Jessa just could not help but tell him what she found off-putting. Maybe there was something satisfying about refusing to bow down to her father’s wishes – her way of rebelling.

She shuffled on the rock, picking at her fingernails. The hush that had fallen over them was not as unbearable as she thought it would be given how their conversation had turned. Eventually, Rhys said, “Well, it’s good to know what you think of me.”

The way he said it made her feel a twinge of guilt, but she stifled it. The feelings were natural and she should not need to apologise for them. She scrutinised him, realising that she knew nothing of his thoughts on her. The man had kept those feelings behind a figurative locked door. All she suspected was that he thought she was a bore and that she was incredibly judgmental of his family’s lifestyle.

To prevent her from asking that very question – the very idea of it made her uneasy for an inexplicable reason – she asked, “So, what do you think of Maira and Edmund?”

Rhys frowned, as though he could not keep up with the change in conversation. He was pretty far gone, she had to admit. For a little while, he did not respond. Once she saw his head nod, as if he was drifting off to sleep, she flicked his ear. He looked at her in the comically angry way that only drunk people could. She stared him off. “Are you going to answer?”

“Maira is naïve and easily flattered. She has no idea what Dima will do.”

“What?” Jessa might not like Maira, but she would not wish Dima’s wandering hands and slimy suggestions on anyone.

“I’ve seen them together a few times,” Rhys said, sounding frustrated at him brother. Jessa did have to give Rhys that: he treated people he believed to deserve it with respect, and thought his brother was completely disgusting. Not only that, but he called him up on it.

Jessa was beginning to realise that her own preconceptions had blinded her to Rhys’s actions. She bit her lip.

“Edmund is a bit dense, though I suppose since he’s not yet finished his schooling I have to give him some credit,” Rhys was saying. Jessa laughed, having to agree. Though Edmund and Harris were twins, they could not be more dissimilar. Harris relished knowledge while Edmund had spurned it, believing most of it beneath him. Jessa felt a pang in her chest: she missed Harris. He should have come in Edmund’s place.

“Harris is by far the best of the royal siblings,” she admitted. “He was the closest thing I had to a friend in the castle. He craves knowledge – and I can give him access to it. I guess he was a bit of an outcast, like me. His family loves him, obviously, but they don’t understand him.”

There was not really anything to say to that, so Rhys did not. Jessa was brought back to the question that had been plaguing her before. She was not sure why it bothered her so, but it felt like they were on an uneven footing. She needed to know. Jessa cursed the wine in her system for making her want to ask such a ridiculous question.

She cleared her throat, catching Rhys’s attention. Though she told herself they were in a sharing mood, she felt strange. Looking away, Jessa said hesitatingly, her words sounding awkward even as she spoke them, “And what do you think of me?” She bit her lip, and then tried to defuse the tension, “Am I really as terrible a bore as I was always told I was at school?”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

"Yes, though I'd say you're more of a moderate bore than a terrible one." Jessa looked almost insulted by Rhys only waved away her surprise. "You said I'm hard to live with and easily hated - it's only fair."

"That's not what I said!"

Rhys shrugged. "Specifics, specifics. Well, you're not the most interesting person I've ever met, but you're sharp and certainly more thoughtful than most. A bit judgy, if I do say so myself, but alas, I chalk that up to your innocence."

Jessa was obviously unsure if Rhys was complimenting or insulting her "innocence" but seemed to decide on the part of insult, jumping to her own defense. Rhys listened to her deny the claim but without really caring, simply waiting for her to finish.

"You are innocent, you can't deny it. Despite being your father's least favorite child you've lived an extremely privileged and sheltered life. You've never faced any violence, any extreme cruelty, any betrayal or treachery. And that's why I take your criticisms with a grain of salt."

"But you don't," Jessa insisted. "You must care what I think on some level or else you wouldn't ask my opinions."

The thought only made Rhys' head more muddled and he ignored the conflicting opinions within his own head. He shrugged it off and shook his head, much to Jessa's annoyance. "Maybe, but I'm not crushed by them. You judge me because you've never known anyone like me. I can promise you this though - within a year you'll be a bit less harsh when passing judgement, I can promise you."

"I doubt it," Jessa muttered.

Rhys only chuckled. "Oh, you will. Just you wait."

With no more conversation to stimulate his mind the real weight of his exorbitant alcohol consumption hit him. Rhys laid down on the rock with a smile and closed his eyes, laughing about something he was only vaguely aware of before sleep overtook.

***

Lights - awful, blinding, nauseating lights - were everywhere. His head pounded as a heavy drumming played on and on in the distance, rapping him on the head with each beat. Rhys struggled to open his eyes, only to immediately shut them as the light assaulted his senses. He let off a string of profanities in an unitelligible garble, forcing his pillow over his head.

"It's awful, I know."

Suddenly the pillow did not seem right, the blankets had a different texture, and the brief glimpse he had had of the room seemed wholly wrong. Slowly and with much pain Rhys forced himself up and his eyes open, shielding them from the light pouring in through the open windows. Jessa sat in chair against the far wall, holding her head in her palms and staring expectantly at Rhys. As Rhys took a look around he realized that the decorations were foreign, that the bed he laid in was not his own. The dresses hung in the armoire were certainly not his.

"Why am I in your room?" He asked, recoiling at the volume of his own voice.

"I couldn't get you to go to your own room last night," Jessa answered with a frown. "After a while I gave up and let you stay. You're a very argumentative drunk, I must add."

The scene of which she spoke didn't even register in Rhys' memory. He stared blankly at her, occasionally looking down at himself and back, checking to make sure this was not a dream he had simply not awoken from yet. He scoured his memory of the night before, trying to piece together his current condition from his last memory, but all he could recall was talking on the beach. In all truthfulness he wasn't even sure where the beach had been.

"What exactly happened after the beach?"

Jessa snorted, rolling her eyes. "Of course you don't remember. You fell asleep on the rock and I had to wake you up and convince you to walk, which let me assure you was no easy task. We walked back home, though I'd say it was more me walking and you being dragged, and when I tried to get you to go to your room you stopped at the beginning of the hall and demanded that I let you sleep on the floor."

The scene played so vividly in Rhys' imagination that it was painful to just think of. It sounded just like something Victor or Dima would do, not something of Rhys' own doing.

"Why didn't you just ask a servant to assist me to my room?"

"I didn't want to wake anyone. Besides, since my room is so much closer than yours I was able to coerce you in here. Once you hit the bed there was no waking you again. I found a spare room."

Rhys groaned, feeling like the fool that he was. As if his monstrous hangover was not punishment enough, the embarrassment of his own lapse in memory in conjunction with his behavior was torture. He wondered what Jessa must think of him now, a drunkard in addition to a criminal. Watching as she winced at the light did remind him that she too had not gotten away from the night's festivities freely, and that thought brought him some comfort.

"Close the damn curtains," he hissed, covering his eyes at the sight.

Jessa refused, though she averted her own eyes. "It's better to get used to the light now."

Rhys swore again but let the topic slide, deciding that, all things considered, Jessa was not the one to be angry at.

"Thank you for not letting me sleep on the beach like a wretch," said Rhys, though he could not will himself to make eye contact. "I appreciate it and I promise such drunkeness will never happen again."

She smiled slightly, a strange sort of smile Rhys had never seen on Jessa's face, and she shook her head in amusement. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

After breakfast she set off for the city. The boat rocked more on the journey 0r it felt like it to Jessa’s delicate head and stomach. Jaq apologised upon seeing her sink to the seats, pressing a hand to her stomach. She waved him away, but she noted that he put on a burst of speed after that. They arrived at the docks in record time.

Knowing the market would be loud with haggling and shouted offers, Jessa steered clear. It took longer to get to the inn Alistair was staying at through the quieter streets, but it was much nicer on her poor head. The aftereffects were much less than they were whenever she drank copious amounts of Ovisian wine – her old local blend, from the two times she had touched it, went straight to her head unlike other wines. Still, she was not used to drinking, so it was pretty unbearable.

She greeted the innkeeper – who recognised Jessa after the past couple of weeks’ visits – and slowly made her way up the stairs. Alistair answered her knock on the second try. With one glance his expression turned knowing and his eyebrows rose. “Rough night, Jessa? I wouldn’t have expected that of you.”

“Oh, leave the scolding. I’m in a difficult situation and I’m sensible about it. Unlike Rhys.”

“Alcohol is not the answer, you know that. It doesn’t make anything better,” Alistair reprimanded anyway. She groaned, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Alistair stared at her reproachfully and then disappeared to collect his books and favourite pen.

“I’m actually making friends. They seem to live at the tavern. And I promise you, I drink much less than they do. I’m careful about it. I know what drinking too much does. I told you I wouldn’t do it again,” she tried to explain as Alistair locked the door behind him. They left the inn and began walking to the small pier where the boats that went back and forth to the university were docked.

“And yet I remember seeing you at your wedding party,” Alistair said sternly.

“I am human, for the love of Etrene! I’m going to make mistakes.”

They fell silent, though Jessa could tell her friend wanted to say something but was not sure how she would take it. After a few roads of unease, Jessa burst out, “Oh, just say it.”

“I’m worried about you. There’s a lot of upheaval in your life right now, and you went back on your promise after your wedding. It’s only a couple of days–”

“I know,” she interrupted, her tone sharp to match her eyes. Alistair looked away, his thin cheeks red, but when he turned back his face was hard.

“Jessa, promise me you won’t. It does not help you.”

“I probably won’t even be able to find it here,” she said unthinkingly. Alistair held her upper arm firmly and twisted her around. His face was unmoving. “I will not look for it, okay.”

He stared at her eyes for a few moments, as if trying to detect a lie, and then he nodded in satisfaction. Jessa let him walk on ahead, feeling guilt stirring in her stomach with the nausea. She shook herself; she would keep her promise to him – and to herself.

***

By the time Alistair had got over his seasickness, Jessa already had a page of notes. They were mostly useless things she had already ascertained about magic, but since she had made more progress than her friend had, she could lord it over him. He waved her away when she tried, picking up one of his books on the history of magic and sticking his nose into it. Jessa laughed and returned to hers.

After a few more pages she doubted the book would be useful. Placing it to one side, she heaved another from the pile. It was older and dustier than the first. She flipped it open, noticing that the handwriting was old-fashioned and faded in many places. Hopefully there would be nothing vital missing. Still, with a tome as old as this, it was one of the most likely options for finding out what Merai’s magic was.

There was no contents page, but there were titles to break up the wordy passages. Jessa turned the pages carefully, worrying that the book might fall to dust in her hands. Nothing sounded like they would be of much use until she neared the back. In the first paragraph of the page, a couple of sentence caught her eye.

‘The greater magics have the ability to affect the human mind, rendering the victim completely under the magician’s control. They can cause physical pain by causing the victim to believe themselves to be under attack, though no one touches them.’

Jessa stopped reading, leaning back heavily in her chair. It nearly rocked back and hit the floor. She steadied herself as her mind raced. That was what Merai had done to her, when she had strangled her without laying a finger on her. This… was it.

“Alistair, I’ve found something,” she said, dumbfounded. He looked up, confused for a moment until realisation hit. His gaze dropped to the book and he frowned.

“That’s not my book,” he said. Jessa glared at him in frustration, though the words niggled somewhere at the back of her head.

“That’s hardly important. This book actually has something on Merai’s magic.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

"Pull yourself together."

A swift slap against the head pulled Rhys back into the present, causing him to groan and clutch to his aching head. He'd been falling in and out of sleep all morning, too groggy to pay any attention to the books before him. Vyserene pursed her lips, not looking at all sorry for her hit.

"Rhys, we have company. It is not my fault that you cannot control your impulses. You knew we would be making visits this morning weeks ago so please try and contain your hangover the best you can. You already look like a wreck, now don't act like one."

A few of the lords and ladies that milled about in the parlor watched the quiet exchange with interest but looked away the second Rhys made eye contact, acting as if they had seen nothing. Rhys pretended that he had not noticed their eavesdropping, that the reprimand had been nothing more than a genial exchange. Such were the masks he put on when in civil society; oh, how he hated it. Every month his mother forced Rhys along on visits to various noble houses throughout the city, laying out new laws and regulations, discussing tariffs and debts, and most importantly forging alliances. It was tedious, banal work, things that interested Rhys little. The only conversations that ever drew Rhys' interest were those with the spy network. For that Rhys would stay alert.

Someone tapped on Rhys' shoulder from behind. "Rhys, might I have a word with you?"

Lord Tallus, Ero's ever-somber looking father who perpetually donned a long grey beard, stood several inches shorter than Rhys. He leaned in close, looking around nervously, waiting to make sure no one was close enough to overhear whatever he had to say.

"I have some troubling information," he began, wringing his hands.

"You should probably tell Lady Vyserene. I'm not much help."

Lord Tallus took another glance around. "No, no, I came to you specifically. It's personal to your interests. It's about Miss Noita."

The name jolted Rhys to attention, chilling him to the bone. "Merai?"

"The very same. You see, I've had word of her whereabouts. I'm not sure if you're aware but after your incident with your wife -" Rhys tried to cut in but Lord Tallus stopped him, putting his hand on Rhys' arm. "Word travels quickly, son, it is known by all. As I was saying, I'm not sure if you had heard but after your incident Merai disappeared. No one has seen her in weeks, not even those who live nearby."

"Have you found her?" Rhys whispered, grabbing the Lord's shoulder as he steered him out of the room.

Tallus shook his head. "I'm afraid we haven't, but there has been word of her whereabouts. We received a note from another mage in Antascia, a good source of ours who is well connected with many of the mages across the land. She claims to have seen Merai traveling."

"Traveling where?"

"This is where my knowledge stops. Our mage said that she was heading south, so we can only assume she is heading to Novamor. As to why she is so suddenly on the move since she has only ever been reclusive is beyond all of us."

The news troubled Rhys, calling forth a thousand questions that could not be answered. Rhys thanked the man and requested to be kept up on further developments, of which he was assured. Rhys returned to the parlor, relegated to listening in on frivolous debates, but his mind could not focus on anything but thoughts of Merai. The memory of their last encounter had haunted him often, and the more Rhys thought of it the more worried he became that his actions had cost his family one of their most valuable assets. After the talks subsided Ero sought out Rhys, finding him staring blankly out a window at the sea.

"I hope my father didn't alarm you. I swear he gets more senile with age," he said with a laugh. Ero too showed the signs of a monstrous hangover, looking disheveled, exhausted, and rather annoyed to have been forced out of his chambers.

"No, he was actually very helpful. I don't know why you're so critical of your father; I'd trade you in a heartbeat."

"Don't get me wrong, I love father. Somedays I just wish his preoccupation with magic was not so engrossing. Often I feel like my life revolves around magic and I don't even have any powers!"

A sudden question occurred to Rhys amidst his jumbled thoughts. "What's in Novamor?"

Ero looked simply perplexed. "Sorry?"

"What's in Novamor? Are there any powerful mages there? What would draw Merai to that country?"

"I honestly don't know, Rhys; I've never been there. Of course there are mages in Novamor - they exist everywhere. As for what in particular would interest Merai, I'm just as clueless as you. Novamor has some of the more lax laws against the practice of magic, so perhaps Merai is simply looking for a less dangerous place to live."

Ero's answers proved to be unhelpful but Rhys thanked him anyway, the two setting off to find a place to eat. As they made their farewells and paid their thanks to all the appropriate people, Lord Tallus caught Rhys' eye. He shook his head slightly, looking at Rhys with what seemed oddly like pity, before disappearing into the crowd.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Alistair had left a couple of hours ago, claiming exhaustion, but Jessa could not pull herself away from the book. There was only a hundred or so pages, but she read so painstakingly that there was still around fifty to go. It was exhilarating to finally have some knowledge of the so-called ‘Greater Magics’, even if some of the things people could do with it brought shivers down her spine. Of course, as with anything, the magic could be used for good. But in the wrong hands – like Merai’s, Jessa imagined – there was no merit to it. She also suspected that most of the magicians who were born with this magic eventually turned mad with power. That was a generalisation, but from the few harrowing accounts, it seemed quite true.

‘Yana Elesnya was a quiet girl who discovered, quite by accident, that her magic could be used to coerce a living thing into torturing themselves. Though Yana hid from society for a great many of her earlier years, her curiosity grew. For ‘science’s sake’, she began experimenting on small animals and then, when that could no longer satisfy her, humans. Yana was soon sought by the ruling lord of her town and became the Lord’s Torturer.’

It seemed that, though a mage could wield their magic upon others, the magic itself attacked the mage. It tainted their minds. Jessa was sure there were many who possessed the power who had managed to fight against it – of course only the worst and most public stories would have been written about – but Greater Magic was certainly a curse to all. No wonder great pains had been taken to hide the magic from the world.

A knock on the door distracted her from her reading. She looked up to see an unfamiliar face, a wild mop of blonde hair falling into his eyes. He looked a couple of years younger than her and his chubby cheeks were red with embarrassment. His eyes kept flickering from place to place: from the book, to her face, to the corner of the room, and then back to the book. Jessa frowned, placed her thumb on the page she was reading and carefully closed her book.

“Who are you?” she asked gently, not wanting to frighten him anymore than he already was. He shifted nervously and tipped his head toward the book.

“You… f-found it, then,” he whispered. “I’m g-glad.”

Jessa frowned. “Come in and close the door.” The boy did so tentatively, but remained by the door. Jessa’s eyes narrowed more. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s m-mine. I… h-heard you were trying to find information on… that magic and I knew I could help,” he said, refusing to look at her. Jessa stared at him, a million questions racing in her head. The most pressing was how such a timid boy had come across the book.

“Are you a mage?” she asked bluntly. He looked up in shock, but there was something off about it… something she could not put her finger on. The boy shook his head fervently and she knew his answer to be true.

“No, I’m just interested in magic… like you!” he exclaimed, still shaking his head.

“Okay, I believe you. What is your name? What area do you study?” Jessa stood up and walked over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He calmed under her touch, but not by much. His eyes stopped roving madly around the room. Though she was sure he was only a couple of years younger than he, he was acting very much like a young boy. Clearly he was very inexperienced with the world. He had probably only ever known academia in his life – much like Jessa, until recently. However, he probably had a family who had cocooned him and showered him with affection.

“I’m Cair,” he said simply. “I s-study history, like you, but I s-study the times a hundred or so years b-before the Barichean Wars.”

Jessa felt uncomfortable that he knew so much about her when she had not known he existed. She had not made a secret of the current direction of her research, but neither had she shouted it from the rooftops. It was a peculiar thing indeed that he had discovered it or that he had known who she was to deliver the book to the correct room. Jessa had a funny feeling.

She glanced at Cair, whose gaze had rested on her face for a moment longer than usual. His eyes were a very strange brown, Jessa noticed. Her concerns diminished as their gazes held and she gave him a small smile. “Thank you, for the book. It has been very useful. When will you want it back?”

“I can… l-look through it with you, if you like. I’ve researched it pretty well,” he suggested meekly, shrugging. Jessa bit her lip. It was true that he could probably point her to the most important parts. She nodded.

“Very well. I would appreciate that.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Though well educated, Rhys was certainly no scholar. He'd scoured the library for any records of mages living in Novamor yet found himself buried in a pile of unhelpful records and more confused than he'd been to start. It was a useless effort to search so blindly and so broadly; no records existed, only rumors by word of mouth. Rhys slammed shut the last of the books, throwing it into the quickly growing pile. With nothing left to do, Rhys laid down his head and closed his eyes, trying to forget his wandering thoughts. His solitude was short lived, forever, for a knock on the door interrupted his calm.

Avis stood at the door, one hand still held up to the wood. "Dinner will be served soon, my Lord."

"I don't wish to eat," Rhys said, shooing Avis away. However, Avis did not leave, instead entering the library.

"Lady Vyserene requests your presence, my Lord."

"Of course she does."

It had only been a day since Rhys had fought with his father, but in that time he had systematically avoided him and Anja like the plague. The thought of facing his father made Rhys' blood curdle, but ignoring his mother's wishes was not a move made by the wise. With much reluctance Rhys agreed to the dinner, following Avis back to Rhys' room to be dressed.

Vyserene was already seated when Rhys entered and she smiled upon his entrance, beckoning him over. He went to her side, placing a kiss on her forehead and taking her hand before finding his own seat and staring off at the wall. He could feel his mother's eyes on him but he forced himself to not acknowledge her prying eye. It would take all of his concentration to not lash out during the dinner and it was important that he began to prepare himself now. Unfortunately, fate was not feeling particularly kind that evening, for Anja was the next to enter.

"Look who decided to show his face," she said with a smile.

"Look who the cat dragged in."

Vyserene shot glares at both her children but did not say a word, reserving herself to being a silent observer. Anja gave her mother a kiss on the cheek before seating herself, never taking her attention from Rhys.

"Where's my favorite sister-in-law?" Anja asked, folding her arms on the table. "Perhaps she's gotten lost. Perhaps she drowned. Hmmm, one can only wish."

Rhys did not satisfy Anja with a reaction, instead letting himself imagine creative ways in which to kill her without suspicion. The thoughts were simply too tempting. As if able to read minds, Vyserene shot Rhys a reprimanding look to which he merely shrugged, looking down at his boots. Dima entered soon after, looking jovial as always, followed by the two du Rene children who rather looked as if they'd rather not be present. Finally Erik entered without a word, not taking the time to acknowledge Rhys, though it was probably for the best. Jessa never appeared.

The first few courses were eaten in silence with the occasional question only asked to create small talk. The two du Rene's chatted quietly to one another, only contributing to the larger discussion if asked a questing directly. Dima occasionally would look at Maira and the two would share a sly smile, a look that made Rhys gag each time he was witness. By the time the main course was served, all topics of trivial matters seemed to be exhausted, and nothing was left but an awkward pause.

"Rhys, I have made my choice and you must live with it. This brooding is ridiculous for a grown man!" exclaimed Lord Erik, dropping his fork with an exasperated sigh. The silver clattered against the dish, filling the heavy silence.

"Really, father, is it that ridiculous? Tell me, when was the last time you were betrayed by your family? Have you lost a fortune lately?"

Lord Erik was not amused. "It's not as if I'm disowning you, my gods, you are melodramatic."

"You might as well disown me," Rhys hissed, "it's not like Anja will show me any great favor once you're dead."

"Would you have shown her any?"

"Yes, I would have, because I have some compassion. She, on the other hand, is a lunatic!"

"This is exactly why you're unfit, Rhys, you're such a -" said Anja, putting her hands on the table and lifting herself up as her voice rose.

Lord Erik cut her off swiftly, gesturing for her to sit and looking rather annoyed with the whole ordeal. "I have not written you out of the will, Rhys, you are not to be destitute. Your protests will do you no favors, anyway. I will not retract my decision." Anja and Rhys continued to glare at one another, still rigid in their chairs and readied to lash out at any moment. Once Lord Erik could determine a spontaneous fight was not about to erupt he continued. "If you would all stop bickering like fools I have some legitimate information I'd like to tell you. I've had some correspondance with our old friends in Novamor, and Lord Arcius and I have decided to arrange a meeting of our families. We have some," he looked briefly over at Maira and Edmund with a tight smile, "business to discuss."

The news all but immediately made Rhys forget his qualms with Anja and his father. He snapped his head towards his father, eyes wide. "We're going to Novamor?"

Lord Erik was obviously taken back by Rhys' enthusiasm, looking to Vyserene for some sort of explanation which she could not give. "Yes, though not for a few months. Why? You've never showed any interest in the place before?"

Realizing that all eyes were analyzing him with interest, Rhys returned his attention to his food, trying to diffuse the attention from his sudden outburst. "No reason, I was just surprised."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

There was a great many things she had missed while she had been reading. So far, Cair had taken her only through the passages she had already pursued, and already she knew more than she would have done if she had read the entire book alone. It was unlike her, given her attention to detail, but it was possible that in her excitement she had overlooked information. Glancing at Cair, who smiled encouragingly and pointed out another detail that she had not noticed before, reassured her. Jessa focused on what the young man was saying.

“You see, this m-magic was largely used for good in the past. Mages would offer that extra bit of e-encouragement and d-determination to flagging farmhands and other manual l-labourers. The difference in production at houses with mages and those without is s-staggering. By planting ideas in their heads, they forgot about any aches and t-tiredness and could work as if they had only just s-started.”

“It’s basically lying to them, though. As soon as the magic wears off, they’d feel worse than before, surely…” Jessa argued, her brow creasing. She chewed at her lip. Cair just laughed and shook his head.

“No, they would be f-fine. After their day’s work they would go to b-bed and have a better night’s s-sleep than if they had not been enchanted,” he explained. Jessa still felt uneasy about it. How had she missed this use? When she had read it, she had not felt that anything of Greater Magic was good.

“Were they unaware they were enchanted? That would be immoral,” she tried, knowing there was something peculiar about this. She tried reading the words but her head was befuddled by it. It was long past the time she should have gone home, if she was too exhausted to read.

Cair pointed at a sentence. “Look,” he said, “They were aware. Any that did not c-consent were not put under any s-spells.”

Jessa let it slide. If it was in the book then it was probably true. From her first read, after all, the author had not been in favour of Greater Magic, so if they could have found a way to make this immoral they would have.

She watched Cair flip through the pages as her eyes threatened to close. “Could we stop? I’m so tired,” she mumbled.

“No!” Cair exclaimed. “Just one more thing.”

He found the page he wanted and pointed at it. Jessa leaned forward blearily but shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to read it to me.”

With a gusty sigh, Cair did so. He stumbled across the words as Jessa fondly come to expect. His stammer was as endearing as the rest of him, and she was glad to finally make friend near her age who was interested in her studies. Alistair was getting older and tiring more easily. He seemed to have forgotten a lot of the advice he had given her when she had first became his pupil, but she supposed that could also be down to age. Cair, on the other hand, was enthusiastic – perhaps a little too much –and patient with her questions.

He told her how the mages of the past smoothed over disagreements, creating harmonious relations both within countries and between them. That was the reason there were so few wars in the Early Times of the world. Jessa frowned. “Then the Barichean Wars?”

“That was the first w-war of its kind, as you know. Starting as a c-civil war in Barichea, it s-spanned to the rest of the world, as you know. The unrest began after G-Greater Magic was first banned. Then, it was not a s-secret. People were arrested and p-publicly tried for their crimes, and many were executed. The ones who had the l-lesser abilities in Greater Magic would have had their m-magic tied so they could not access it. Over time, the number of p-people with G-Greater Magic dropped, since it’s hereditary. There will be a fair few people with the magic in the world now who do not even know they have it.”

“How can a person not know they have this power within them?” Jessa asked, rubbing her forehead. She really was so very tired.

“How would they discover it? It takes practice to be able to properly perform Greater Magic, as with the other magics. If there are no accessible records of it, then how can they learn?”

Jessa nodded, but her early doubts returned. She wondered where they had gone in the first place. “How did you come across the book, then, if there are so few of them?”

Cair stared at her for a moment. He looked unfamiliar with his deep frown and chiding eyes – this was not the Cair she knew. Jessa bit her lip, deciding that she would do better not to ask. Eventually, Cair smiled. “You’re tired, and asking unimportant questions. I found the book. They’re around if you’re searching for them.”

Jessa nodded, relieved. She stood from her chair and swayed with how tired she was. She put a hand on the desk to steady herself. Cair watched her in concern. “I will take you home.”

“No, no. I’m fine. I’ll be on boats for most of the way so I can sit and rest. The boatmen will see that I’m alright,” she said, waving him away. She packed up her things and left the room, waiting for Cair to depart before locking it. The man followed her down the corridor. “I am fine, honestly.”

“I am coming with you. I want to see you home okay,” he said. Jessa noticed, somewhere deep in the back of her mind, that his stutter had disappeared. She saw the determination on his face, mixed with a little panic.

“Are you okay?” she inquired, touching his forehead. He stepped away, shaking himself and fixing his gaze upon her. They stood there for a moment, until a sudden wave of sleepiness came over her. Cair rushed to hold her up.

“I am t-taking you home.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

"Really, mother, this is absurd."

A pile of dusty old volumes was stacked in Rhys' hands, almost so tall he couldn't see over them. They weighed heavy on his arms but he resisted, trying not to show the trouble the heavy load was giving him. The entire premise behind the delivery he'd been instructed seemed flimsy at best. Never before had his mother wished to have an accountant look over old records - that had always been Rhys' job.

"If you want me out of the house you could always just say," said Rhys, trying to shift the stack carefully so as not to drop them.

"No, I really do want Marcus to take a look at these. I know he showed some interest in our past financial plans and I hoped he could help advise us in our banking."

Rhys narrowed his eyes at his mother, not believing her thin story. She had come across him sitting alone by the fire after dinner and had immediately jumped into this ludicrous plot, loading him up with tasks for the city. In conjunction to delivering this set of records, Rhys was also to visit the docks and arrange their trip to Novamor, though it seemed rather early to be planning such things. Vyserene's thinly veiled attempts at nonchalance did not fool Rhys, but he did not argue her plans.

After dutifully listening to his mother's instructions for the third time, Rhys found a box for the books and set off towards the city. How these banal tasks were supposed to preoccupy Rhys' thoughts was beyond him, but he highly suspected they were really to keep him from drinking. As he came to the small boat to take him into town the oarsman raised a single eyebrow, looking at Rhys and his many books in question.

"Don't even ask," Rhys sighed, dropping into the boat. The man chuckled under his breath and pulled way, occasionally looking back at Rhys and beginning to laugh all over again.

Unsurprisingly, the accountant was positively flummoxed upon receiving the delivery of records. Rhys rattled off his mother's words with disinterest, watching as the accountant scrambled to come up with a story that made it seem as if he had been expecting the volumes. He stammered out a few questions which Rhys answered with made up answers, not particularly caring what the man did with the information. By the time Rhys bid the man a good night and left the old accountant looked more confused than he had earlier, left scratching his head and staring at the box of books.

As Rhys made his way to the docks he passed the tavern, giving it a wayward glance. He longed to go inside and find Victor - who Rhys was more or less convinced lived there - and have a long chat, but memories of the night before prompted him otherwise, keeping him on the road. The night had turned dark and citizens popped out from their homes and shops to light lanterns that lined the streets, greeting Rhys genially as he passed. He knew few of the citizens but gave them all polite greetings in return, stopping to chat briefly with the few people he recognized by name. In between his numerous stops and his occasional accidental wanderings, it was a good hour before Rhys made it back to the docks, and few people lingered in the darkness. The shipmaster had long since retired to his home, though it made little difference for Rhys as he suspected his mother would forget all about her task by morning. With nothing left to do Rhys sat down on the edge of the docks, letting his legs dangle in the air as he stared off at the calm sea.

After what could have been minutes or hours, for Rhys had lost track of the time, a single boat came into view against the dark sea, growing larger by the minute. Rhys watched with muted interest as it bobbed along the surface, vaguely wondering who would be out sailing at this time of night. As it drew in close, almost near enough to come to harbor, a flash of red hair caught his attention. Rhys squinted his eyes in the darkness, trying to make sense of the figures in the boat. Again, that same hair shone in the darkness, and as the figure turned its head Rhys immediately recognized the face. The other face, however, was one Rhys had never seen.

Rhys came to his feet but waited calmly on the pier, watching as the boat docked and Jessa and the man disembarked. They seemed wrapped up in their conversation, so much so that when they turned the corner towards Rhys neither of them noticed his presence.

"Good evening."

Jessa looked up startled, taking a sigh of relief as she saw Rhys. The man, however, tensed, not quite as pleased to see the stranger.

"Oh, hello Rhys. I was just on my way back."

"Home is that way," Rhys noted, pointing behind them. "And who might this be?"

Beside Jessa the strange man shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable under Rhys' scrutiny. "C-cair," he stammered, holding out a hand. Rhys paused before taking the hand, studying the small, young looking man. He did not appear to be particularly threatening, but something about his demeanor struck Rhys as odd. It was a feeling he could not quite put his finger on, but it was a strange feeling none the less, and if years of dealing with unsavory characters had taught Rhys anything it was that his instincts were usually correct. With this in mind Rhys did not take the man's hand, instead narrowing his eyes.

"I'm Rhys, Lord Rhys Marinon."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

“We’ve just come back from the university. The boats don’t travel between there and the house,” Jessa said with a frown. The cool night air seemed to be reviving her, for she felt a little less tired now. She focused on the two men, who were staring at each other with suspicion. Jessa shook her head. “Rhys: Cair’s been very helpful. He’s my friend, there’s nothing to worry about. Cair: I won’t say Rhys is harmless, but he’s my… husband and he will not hurt us.”

Rhys glanced at her but did not seem convinced. Cair had not moved. She frowned. “Come on you two. Finish whatever challenge you have between you. I’m tired and want to go to bed.”

“There’s no boat at this time of night,” said Rhys absently. His assessing gaze had returned to Cair. As she watched, his eyelids drooped and fluttered as though he was fighting sleep. He was focusing on Cair no longer. Jessa frowned, but forgot to worry why she was concerned because Rhys suddenly swayed and nearly fell to the ground. Cair rushed to steady him.

“I don’t t-think either of you are fit to be s-standing out here in the c-cold.”

Jessa had to agree. The temperature was slowly dropping. Also, if there were no boats they would have to walk along the beach and she was not sure if she and Rhys were awake enough to do so. She looked to Cair.

“You can both s-stay with me tonight,” he said. He looked down at Rhys, frowning hard. “You can trust me.”

After a brief pause, Rhys nodded. His face smoothed and he seemed calm. Jessa’s heart suddenly beat fast in her chest. Rhys had not taken Cair’s hand – had viewed it suspiciously – yet now he seemed fully sure of the man’s honesty. Of course, Jessa did not doubt him, but she knew Rhys had grown up in a world where one did not believe the word of another. Yet here he was, going against his teachings.

“Come, Jessa,” said Cair, breaking her thoughts. He held out a hand to her, holding Rhys with the other, whose head was lolling onto Cair’s shoulder. Jessa moved forward with trepidation, watching Cair’s face for any hint of malice. When she could see nothing, she relaxed. Obviously Rhys had just decided, as she had, that Cair was a good person who just wanted to help – even if it could be a little pushy about it.

Cair led them through the candlelit streets to the outskirts of the city, near the coast. Tucked into a small recess in the cliff there was a cottage. It leaned to one side and had been repaired many times. It looked like a patchwork house, with wood and brick and mortar making up the walls. Cair grinned at them sheepishly. “W-welcome to my h-humble abode.”

***

When Jessa awoke the next morning, the room felt wrong. She shuffled for a bit under the unfamiliar sheets, wrinkling her nose but refusing to open her eyes. Once she had, she did not recognise where she was at all. Panic rose up within her. She tried to remember how she would come to be somewhere other than home but her mind came up blank. Last night was a blur.

Jessa heard a groan on the other side of the room. She shot up, staring at the sofa where someone lay burrowed underneath a rough blanket. Jessa clutched the sheets to her chin and waited. When Rhys emerged, grumbling under his breath, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least something about this place was known to her.

“Where are we?” she asked once Rhys noticed her. He frowned, as if he did not understand her question, and looked around blearily. His frown deepened and he shook his head.

“I don’t know. What happened last night?”

Jessa’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember? Why do we not remember?”

She hastened to disentangle herself from the sheets and went over to Rhys. He sat up and made room for her on the sofa. They sat in silence, both trying to figure out what had happened and why they were there. Jessa began to panic: she could remember very little after she left her office – and she was sure those memories were full of holes since nothing seemed to connect.

Hearing a key turn somewhere else in the house, Jessa jumped. She looked at Rhys fearfully, who stared back impassively. A moment later, a small, chubby-cheeked man stepped into the room, a brown bag in his arms. Cair.

“You’re both awake, great,” he said, passing the bag to Jessa.

She looked inside, spotting her favourite blueberry muffins. She drew one out hesitatingly and inspected it. “How do you know I like these?”

“You told me, yesterday.”

She could not remember doing such a thing, but there was no reason for him to lie. She dug into the muffins with vigour before remembering that Rhys was probably hungry too. He rejected her offer, looking at Cair as though he did not remember him. In fact, Jessa did not realise she had even met Rhys the night before, so why was he here?

“I don’t…” Rhys said, but Cair cut him off.

“I helped you both. Jessa would probably have fallen and drowned in the sea if I hadn’t escorted her from the university. We met you at the harbour and you were dead on your feet too. There were no boats so I offered you my house for the night. You probably don’t remember because you were both practically falling asleep on me. Once you’ve eaten, I’ll feel sure that you’re both okay and then you can head on home.”

Rhys looked puzzled, like he still could not place what he had been told in his memory. Eventually, his face brightened, the crease in his forehead lessened, and he nodded. “Of course, I remember now.”

“It was very good of you,” Jessa added between mouthfuls of sweet muffin, also recalling the meeting. Cair smiled at them and squeezed Jessa’s hand. Between them, Jessa and Rhys finished the breakfast. Since it was likely they would be missed at home if they lingered much longer, they left shortly after. Jessa did not want to leave. She remembered that Cair knew so much more about Greater Magic than she did, and she desperately wanted to read more of the book with him. He promised her that he would visit her soon.

Jessa felt weak as they walked through the city to the docks. Her strength gradually returned the closer they got, and she began doubting what had just occurred. “Do you think there was something odd about that?”

“About what?” Rhys asked. Jessa looked at him pointedly, and tipped her head back to the cliff from which they had come. “Oh. No, not really.”

Well, if Rhys had not detected anything overtly strange, then she was certainly overthinking things. After all, Rhys was far more worldly and far more suspicious than she. If he thought it was okay, then it probably was.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

They passed from the city to the house in what seemed like no time at all, though it did pass in more or less of a blur. In fact, the more Rhys thought of their journey the more muddled his thoughts became, but he could not explain the reasoning behind the phenomena. Rhys felt exceedingly well, overcome with a happiness he had not experienced in some time. His mind was at ease, calm, almost as if wiped clean of all ill feelings. As he and Jessa passed across the sea back to the house Rhys' good mood began to falter, but only just, leaving him more muddled than serene. Jessa was not blind to this change in Rhys' demeanor. He could feel her eyes on him, studying his blank expressions and his quiet disposition, her face creased with worry. Rhys caught her frowning once but dismissed the concern, figuring she was simply upset over some foreign matter.

Despite his long night of sleep - or at least what he assumed to be a long night, for he seemed to have lost his track of time - Rhys felt overwhelmed with exhaustion, making a beeline for his chambers the moment he stepped foot in the house.

"Out drinking, I presume?"

Rhys stopped at the foot of the staircase, turning to meet his mother's judgement. She leaned against the entrance to the sitting room with folded arms and pursed lips.

"I tolerate much but this self medicating is one step too far," said Vyserene, clucking her tongue. "And you seem to have found yourself a drinking partner," she turned her attention to Jessa, scrutinizing her disheveled appearance. "Have you too be sucked into my son's idiocy?"

Jessa stared wide eyed back at Vyserene and shook her head slowly, looking towards Rhys in surprise. "We haven't been drinking, honestly."

"Then what explains this?" She motioned to Rhys who was now holding himself against the railing of the stairs with a glazed look in his eye. He wished his mother would stop her lecturing, for he was growing weary of it by the second. All he could think of was the comfort of his bed, that and the warmth of the midday sun. Yes, perhaps he would open a window...

"Rhys?"

He snapped back to attention, realizing his thoughts had begin to wander. Both Jessa and his mother stared at him in surprise, Vyserene's mouth held slack in disbelief.

"It's a lovely day, mother, I'd just like to go sleep." Even Rhys could comprehend the ridiculous nature of his words, noting how strange his own voice sounded, but he couldn't find a reason to analyze his behavior. Such thought sounded taxing.

"What is wrong with him?" asked Vyserene, looking to Jessa. Jessa was just as surprised as his mother, her mouth held open too, staring at Rhys as if she'd never seen him properly before. Suddenly realization dawned on Vyserene's face, her eyes lighting up. She advanced on Rhys, taking his face in her hands and turning it side to side, watching his eyes as he stared off lazily at the large windows behind her.

Then her hands were gone, Rhys' head falling slack as it was no longer supported, his eyelids drooping in unprecedented fatigue. His mother went to Jessa and studied her in the same fashion despite Jessa's vocal protests, but came away looking less confident in her revelation.

"Who were you with last night?" Despite Rhys being only feet away, Vyserene spoke directly to Jessa, ignoring Rhys as if ignoring a useless child.

"A friend of mine," answered Jessa vaguely. She avoided Vyserene's eyes, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

"Names, Jessa, I'm not in the mood for vagueness this morning."

"Cair." Jessa's eyes flickered up to meet Vyserene's briefly, immediately looking down once more.

"And where does this Cair live?" Vyserene pressed.

Being so close to Vyserene obviously put Jessa on edge, for her discomfort was visible even to Rhys' delirious state. For a moment he briefly thought of protesting, of asking his mother to calm herself, but he quickly could not remember why he had thought of such a thing in the first place.

"In town somewhere, I don't remember exactly where," Jessa mumbled. Rhys recognized the lie but could not understand what it was necessary. What reason was there to lie of their wherabouts? There was nothing to hide, not for Cair's sake, anyway.

"You're lying, Jessa," Vyserene pressed, placing her hand on Jessa's shoulder. "Tell me where you were."

It was not necessary for Vyserene to raise her voice even slightly, for her tone spoke volumes. Her stare, her ability to shake a man to his core with a single look, was not something Jessa was immune to. "He lives on the edge of the city, somewhere near the coast. I don't remember exactly where, I'm not lying about that." She immediately looked ashamed of her own weak will, biting her lip and recoiling from Vyserene. On the other hand, Rhys' mother looked moderately pleased, stepping away from Jessa and looking off in thought.

"Help him to his room, won't you?" Commanded Vyserene, gesturing to Rhys. Jessa came to Rhys' side immediately, putting one arm around him as she helped him up the stairs. His body felt heavy and sluggish, and though he was usually opposed to being helped thus at the moment there was no avoiding it. As they reached the top of the staircase Rhys took one look back at the foyer. His mother had not moved and inch, watching her son pass above with a darkness in her eyes Rhys rarely saw, one that put him on edge even in his relaxed state, even if it only lasted for a moment.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa sat in the sitting room overlooking the Marinon’s small boatyard, awaiting Vyserene’s return. Once Jessa had left Rhys, she had seen Vyserene storm across the hall. Jessa had gone downstairs. When the woman reappeared, her face was set with determination and she wore a necklace that sparkled blood red. She had left without another word.

Jessa bit her lip, peering into the sunlight to see if a boat was nearing. Nothing came. It had been a couple of hours; what was taking so long? Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, worrying for Cair. Vyserene had seemed impossibly angry and – though Jessa was unsure if she had imagined it – afraid. If she hurt Cair… Jessa should have gone with her, calm her down, because Cair had done nothing wrong. He had helped them.

Even her research on Greater Magic could not distract her. She had stupidly left the book in Cair’s house. It was on the table beside the bed in which she had slept; she could remember its location clearly. She had not even thought to retrieve it when they had left. It puzzled her a little, that she would leave something so valuable to her. But Cair would see it returned to her, and he would take her through it. His help was as invaluable as the book itself.

Finally, she saw the boat appear around the rocks. She stood from the chair and ran outside. From this distance, she could not see Vyserene’s face, so she waited impatiently – her anxiety growing – for her to come to shore. When she did, there was a smile upon her face. With Jaq’s help she clambered from the boat and came towards Jessa. Jessa noticed that Vyserene’s necklace was gone.

“He is a lovely man. I thought I knew something was wrong, but I was clearly mistaken,” she said. Her voice sounded lighter than usual. The permanent worry lines Jessa had barely even noticed before were gone from her face. She looked like an entirely different woman, free of life’s concerns.

“Are you okay?” Jessa asked suspiciously, though she could not explain from where her apprehension came. Cair seemed to have a calming effect on everyone he met, even while he acted so nervously around them. He made them want to put him at ease. But there was something… strange. Jessa could not explain her conflicting emotions so she put them to one side.

“I’m perfectly fine, my dear.” Vyserene moved past her and opened the door to the house. Just before she went inside, she turned to Jessa. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Cair said to tell you that he will bring your book in a little while. He just has a few errands to run.”

Jessa opened her mouth and then closed it. She frowned. “Could he not just have given it to you?”

“He wanted to see you, Jessa. It gives him a reason to come. Don’t question such important things.”

Jessa felt suitably chastised. While Vyserene went indoors, she stayed outside. She settled herself on a rock near the docks to wait for Cair’s arrival. It was not a comfortable position, but waiting was all she seemed to be doing today. She had grown used to nothing but her thoughts. As she waited, she considered the information she had learned the day before. It was all just so fascinating, how magic that seemed, on the surface, to have only evil tendencies could be used for great good. Jessa vaguely recalled her conversation with Rhys on the beach two nights ago: perhaps she was too judgemental. Magic in and of itself was not an malevolent force, but some misused it.

The fact that she had missed all of the events hailing Greater Magic still concerned her. Was she truly so prejudiced, purely because of the incident with Merai?

Finally, the boat came. She stood up with a radiant smile on her face, excited to see her new friend. It may have only been a couple of hours, but she was eager to study the book with him again. The boat docked and Cair jumped out. He hugged the book close to his chest, shaking his head when Jessa reached out a hand.

“Is there s-somewhere p-private we can go? I w-wouldn’t want p-people like the M-Marinon’s discovering the s-secrets of this magic.”

Jessa nodded and led him to the gazebo she had found a few days earlier. They sat on the white metal garden bench, the book between them. She watched Cair flip swiftly to the correct page. Together, they began perusing the text. The book had moved on to discuss the symptoms of mind control in a victim. Jessa could not bring herself to find the topic interesting and asked Cair to go to the next chapter. She wanted to know more uses of Greater Magic. Cair smiled and agreed.

The chapter was the most intriguing yet. If Jessa had any doubts that Greater Magic was the kind that Merai possessed, she had none now. The ability to cause pain and death. There was no glorifying this topic. Jessa read with her heart in her throat, until she could read no more of magical murders and suicides, of torture that could last long after the mage had departed the scene. Cair touched her hand gently, trying to soothe her. She turned away.

“I… I think I am done for the day. I cannot hear any more of this,” she said.

“Of c-course.” Cair shut the book and tucked his under his arm. He offered his hand to help Jessa up. “You do look very p-pale. Let’s g-get you inside.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

By the time Rhys awoke the harsh sunlight that streamed in through his windows was beginning to fade, replaced with a red sunset. His body ached from head to toe, the feeling of someone who has been in the same position for far too long. Worst than his body was his head, and in place of the lightness he had felt earlier was a heavy, dully ache, one not dissimilar to his earlier hangover. Rhys began to stretch out his aching limbs, wiping the sleep from his eyes and shaking out his unkempt hair. As he pressed on his sore shoulder his hand hit something that dangled on his neck, something hard and sharp. Rhys lifted the stone that hung from his neck, examining the red crystal-like stone with interest. He'd seen the thing before - he believed it to be a token of his mother's - but he could not remember its purpose. More importantly, he could not remember how he had come to wear it.

The longer Rhys laid in bed the clearer his thoughts became, but he could not seem to motivate himself to move. He was dazed and confused, lost in a muddled loop of thought that never provided him with any answers, though his thought process was significantly improved from earlier in the day. Rhys thought back to the morning but it was as if there were holes in his memory, dark spots where there should have been clarity. He remembered his mother - now that he thought of her he remembered she'd seemed angry - and he remembered Jessa. There had been a boat and a house, but as for the inhabitant of that house Rhys could not recall.

He struggled against his hazy thoughts, trying to recall details of the day before, but nothing after arriving at the dock could come into focus. Fear swelled up in his chest, more intense than he'd felt in a long time. The prospect of having lapses of memory unrelated to alcohol abuse was frightening and Rhys began to panic, his breathing growing heavy.

Clutching at the stone around his neck, Rhys stared down at the foreign object with suspicion. Quickly, he began to remove the chain, pulling the necklace from his neck. Instantly he felt a wave of calm wash over him, repressing the sudden hysteria that had come to possess him. Yet, despite this calm, a small voice in his head protested, and Rhys could not help but feel slightly...wrong. Rhys replaced the necklace hesitantly, and the moment the stone touched his skin the panic returned, realizing Rhys' fears. He felt more present, more real and focused while wearing the stone, and as he thought of his consciousness without it he recognized his own lack of lucid thought. It was not the necklace that was causing his strange mindset; the necklace was repairing his mind.

With this sudden revelation Rhys began to focus more intently on the night before, forcing himself to run through events in order. He recalled visiting the accountant. He recalled chatting with the townspeople. He recalled sitting on the docks, looking out over the sea. He recalled a boat. Rhys' thoughts came to a sudden halt as if he had encountered a stone wall within his own mind. He pressed at this block, trying to force his memory around it, but it was heavy and solid, allowing for only brief glimpses of what lied on the other side. Jessa was in this particular hidden memory, for Rhys could vaguely remember a head of vibrant orange hair, one that belonged only to her. Someone else resided in this memory but his identity was still hidden. Still, the very nature of the memory made Rhys' blood run cold, every nerve in his body on alert. Something was being hidden from him by his own mind, something very wrong.

The thought of Jessa brought Rhys briefly back to the present. She had helped him to his room before he had fallen asleep, that much he remembered, but beyond that he had no memories of her. Rhys stepped out into the hall, looking up and down for a sign of her. He checked all the rooms that were not locked, making his way down to the ground floor to inspect the sitting rooms. His own emotions surprised him, but he could not shake the feeling of worry that had overcome him. Somehow Jessa was tied to his lapse in memory, and for the first time Rhys felt genuine concern for her safety, wondering if she too was having similar problems.

"Jessa?" He called, looking around the corner. The house was deserted, not even a servant in sight. It was eerie to be so alone in the immense manor; Rhys had never seen it so empty in his life.

A light flickered from inside a small parlor at the end of the hall and Rhys hurried towards it, hoping that Jessa would reside inside. To Rhys' surprise it was not Jessa inside but rather his mother, asleep on the couch. Her face was calm and blank, relaxed like a sleeping child, and her arms fell to the side of the lounge. Rhys approached quietly, looking down at her sleeping form. He'd never known his mother to be one to nap, and for her to be in such an unusual place was definitely surprising.

Just as he was about to leave and unusual sight caught Rhys' eye, turning his attention back to his mother. He leaned down closer, inspecting the exposed skin of her décolletage, noting a small red mark on just beneath her neck. It was indiscrete, something unnoticeable from a distance, but the closer Rhys studied it the more it came to look like a burn. He put his hand to her shoulder, shaking her lightly in an attempt to wake her, but she would not stir, lost in sleep.

Whatever panic Rhys had felt earlier began to creep its way back into his mind, his heart rate rising quickly. He left the room in a hurry, making sure to lock the door behind him, though he wasn't sure exactly why he felt that to be necessary. For once Rhys wished he lived in a smaller home, one less taxing to search. He opened every door, inspecting every hall and room, but to no avail. Just as Rhys was ready to give up his search a light, familiar voice captured Rhys' attention. Quietly, Rhys made his way down the hall, following the sound of the voice. A dim light glowed from within a rarely used sitting room, the door left slightly ajar. Rhys put on hand on the door as quietly as possible, peering inside the room.

Jessa sat in a large stuffed chair beside the fire facing Rhys, her head resting against her palm as her eyelids fluttered, dozing in and out of sleep. A strange man sat across from her with his back to Rhys. He spoke in a low, quiet voice, a book held in his lap. Rhys nearly entered the room but stopped himself before doing so, hanging at the door for a moment more. He listened to the man, not understanding the things of which he spoke. The more he listened to the man something stirred within Rhys, an inkling of suspicion, something setting off an alarm within Rhys' mind. The thoughts of the night before returned to the forefront of his mind and flashes of the mysterious other in that memory returned, his outline looking so much like the one before Rhys. Then, as Rhys began to loose interest in the quiet conversation going on before him, the strange man began to stutter, and it was like a dam broke within his mind.

Memories flooded back in an instant, triggered by that one sound. The face from the night before returned in sudden clarity. Rhys recalled being suspicious of the man, of not wishing to shake his hand. He remembered the odd vibe he'd gotten from simply being around him, and then he remembered all those feelings falling away. Rhys thought of how he had grown tired for no reason and then, once again, he remembered his memories fading. However, this time they were not lost to him, and what they revealed to him both enraged and frightened him.

Whether it was a smart move or not Rhys did not care, for an overwhelming anger came upon him. He unsheathed the dagger constantly kept on his belt, rushing into the room too quickly for Cair to register his presence. In one great movement Rhys brought the dagger back and thrust it into Cair's right shoulder, stopping as it hit bone.

The man howled in pain, slumping out of his chair. Rhys knew he should have killed the man but he could not bring himself to do it, whether out of fear or curiosity he did not know. Jessa cried out for her friend, looking in anger at Rhys, but before she could do anything to help the man a certain blank look came over her face, much like what had happened to Rhys. She looked between Rhys and Cair in confusion, unsure what had just occurred, and Rhys used this brief moment to rush to her side and try and pull her away from the room.

There was not enough time for convincing Jessa to leave, and when Rhys heard a grunt behind them he knew before he turned to see the malice in Cair's eyes that his brief moment of safety had expired.