Paul looked on as his student coughed and sputtered, blinking away gold-tinged tears. This...was risky. It was certainly underhanded. Still, Paul thought it an appropriate stratagem. After all, Lady Eleanor would do the same for him on occasion, though her smoke was purchased, and not naturally produced. The fearsome faces she kept in that jar by the door...
He shook his head. Now was not the time to reminisce. As far as the siren knew, this was the acolyte's first exposure to strong illusory magic. If the dose proved too powerful, he would have to pull Carum out before they sank deeper into madness or injured themself.
The smoke dissipated, and Carum stood dazed, eyes glazed over with Paul's aura. They squinted, then blinked, beholding a scene that made them gasp in horror.
"Sir?"
They ran towards the opposite of the chamber and kneeled before nothing. "Sir! Oh, stars! Wake up! Wake up!"
Paul winced. The desperation in their voice was palpable, to say the least.
Carum shuffled back, sobbing with relief. "Bless the astral bodies above! Can you move? No matter. Just stay with me, I know a healer, they're in the other—"
Silence interjected. Carum listened, dismayed.
"No! I'm not leaving you—!"
Silence insisted.
"What—?"
A new silence made Carum stiffen, then turn. They gulped, placing a protective hand before the space representing Sir Bloodvessel. Their rhythmic convulsions suggested whatever was approaching had a heavy gait. Alright. Paul could work with that.
He took a deep breath, then breathed a fearsome pirate into existence, drawing on the tales he heard in his youth in Lytherpole to design his creation.
Carum's eyes widened as the illusion approached. In reality, the specter said nothing, but the human heard a speech that made them quiver with anguish, then shake with anger. "Leave us," they growled.
The pirate smirked as they took a step closer. Carum rose, hunched over like an irritated cat.
"I said LEAVE US!"
Paul stepped back in shock. They didn't so much scream the command as they did project it as he would a song on stage. He prayed the others had not yet returned from market for such a pronouncement would easily coax the blades of his bandmates from in Ringo's chamber.
The briny bastard had a cutlass but didn't find Carum's blood worthy of his blade, and took out his dagger instead. Carum responded in kind, nervous, but determined.
Paul nodded. The bloodwrath had taken effect. This monster had harmed the harmless, and for that he would pay.
As predicted, Carum was far more proficient when the stakes were high. Not only did they coax the pirate into making the first move, but used the counter Paul used on them, snaking their arm around their opponent and plunging their foot into the back of their opponent's knee, breaking the leg with a snap Paul swore he could hear. The pirate fell, and Carum disengaged, thinking their work was done. In most cases, it would be, as Paul also preferred to immobilize than to kill, but if there was one thing he knew about pirates, it was that they never worked alone.
He lowered his pitch to a suitable degree, then gave his illusion a voice. "So this jellyfish can sting, eh? You brought me down, but once I call me crew, you're fish bait!"
Carum didn't give the pirate the mercy of a gasp before stepping on his armed wrist and plunging the wooden blade into his heart. It was a swift act, one more of composed panic than the pleasure of vengeance sated. In the next moment they were lifting an imaginary father figure over their shoulder and sprinting towards the bar.
YOU ARE READING
Kitty's Keeper/No Clean Blades
FanfictionWhen the band steps out again, John volunteers to watch George's acolyte. And when the band steps out a third time, Paul volunteers to watch George's acolyte. WARNING: language, fantasy violence, gore, occult themes & imagery #2 in throughthelooking...