The Curse of Eternity

Death Six

I am dreaming. I feel the remnants of anger with a ghost touch of power intertwined with confidence. As dreams do, the sensation quickly fades and is replaced with ice. My head feels like a winter lake, and my body a hot spring. Either I had not been asleep long, or the pool is marqued. I bet my ceramics the latter.

My eyes are ground clay. It takes several breaths to unfold them. When they do, they open directly to a blinding time candle, causing my stomach to turn like the Nehemarran Sea. When eyes are no longer being rammed by a Horin in heat and my stomach as ceases it's Three Sister's Jig; I read the time, third yellow. It was half-past white when I entered. A candle and a half had passed since the head maid retreated.

Could she have seen me?

Jumping from the seat, I stand. The room tilts. I fall face-first into the water, and with all the grace of a decapitated fish, I manage to flop myself to the stairs. I ascend on my hands and knees. The marble bucks like an eh'sor, and I crawl drunkenly up the steps.

How much wine did I consume? Could the maid have seen me? What's happening?

My thoughts slide down my esophagus to my stomach and are devoured by wine.

Sluggishly, I worm my way out of the water, and my skin breaks like o'sego flesh. My shiver is more like a spasm, and my stomach decides to resume its Three Sisters Jig.

Leaden appendage, by leaden appendage, I manage to reach my cloak. I sit, swaying like a drunkard on Dark Moon's Night, stretch for my covering and miss.

And miss.

And miss again.

Frustrated, I close my eyes and reach. My fingers recognize the familiar fabric and snatch. Moons of practice have me donning the garment in moments, and in the safety of my cacoon, the spins and jigs lessen.

With a force of Will, I stand, and the world totters dangerously.

I stagger towards a wall feeling blindly for a door. After what feels like a candle my hand touches the cold handle of a knob.

I fumble to turn it; it swings inward on its own and I crumble into a wall.

A very hard, warm wall.

The world stops, and the Three Sisters Jig performs their last step all across the floor.

The Immortal Lord

In his rooms, the Immortal Lord is drying off when the sight of a small azure crystal vile on his feyan nightstand catches his eye.

"Twelve deaths of o'finern!" he swears.

Arantyna's Sleep. He put Arantyna's Sleep in the cup. If one type of sleep wouldn't get her, surely another would. The poison is not fast-acting, and looking at the time candle, the effects will start to take their toll.

As if reading his thoughts, the erratic palpitations of Desolation's heart slither around his heart. He quickly dresses when he hears her stumble towards his door.

The knob rattles just as he turns and causes the door to swing open. Desolation's head plummets to his chest, and he grabs her shoulders to steady her. She puts a hand over his heart and heaves the contents of her stomach over his feet. If he didn't look down he could think of the mess as blood and maybe he wouldn't lose his dinner as well.

Just retribution is never escaped.

When Desolation ceases, he lifts her tall form out of the muck and seats her at the edge of the bed.