It was a BIG day for Zunylanih and Ekohdene. It was the eve of her birthday, and he was going to treat her to a nice dinner at the Karshe Inn. He'd counted up his coppers and silvers and golds, and gathered up just the amount for a night she'd not be able to forget. While Ekoh was getting rather depressed, as she felt herself nearing the end of her lifespan, Zunylanih was absolutely and positively giddy. She just needed the right inducement in order to lighten up. Zunylanih had ideas, to make that happen. And if in the process she was moved toward finally teaching him to become a mage, all the better! Not that Zunylanih had ulterior motives in pleasing his friend and companion. No perish the thought!
He had put aside the money for their big night on the town. If it could be called a town. More like a forested encampment. As impressive as the rises and treewalks were, and the treehouses, Zunylanih found himself longing for the simplicity of a nice stonework building in the Gleam, or dilapidated flophouse in the Shanty. There was too much green here, too much nature. It put him... ill at ease. But then, Moseke had announced that she'd banished the Creep. That was something in itself.
Zunylanih also had a mind to migrate back to his city, now that the way was clear to travel. Perhaps Ekoh could be persuaded to join him? But first, he had to wine and dine her.
He arrived at her tent encampment by the fire-pit. There, she was just going about her routine, as far as Zunylanih could tell. She was wearing her illusion, the biqaj woman Clynn, pale, long-eared, and alluring to Zunylanih's hungry eyes. She was wearing a simple deer-skin tunic with trousers and boots, having adapted to the mode of dress of the place they now called their residence. For his part, Zunylanih was wearing the illusion of the Helician man, Pau Alegre. Dark-complected and very handsome by Zuny's reckoning, and from all he'd heard from Ekoh she seemed to fancy him as well. So he did make it a point to wear that illusion, as well as the outfit that showed off his bare chest. An open jacket and tight leather trousers, with ankle boots. He wore little else in the way of accoutrements.
Zunylanih cleared his throat to get her attention, "Clynn?"
She turned to look at him, and rolled her eyes instinctively. Always so sarcastic, Clynn, but Zunylanih liked that about her. "I was wondering if you'd join me for a little birthday dinner?"
"I really shouldn't have told you..." She muttered, as she sorted through the laundry line that she was fixing. But a few moments later sighed, and turned around, hands on her hips. "But I suppose I can do with some mead and a meal. Fine, let's go."
So to the point, how Zunylanih enjoyed that about Ekoh's persona, Clynn. So they were off, Zunylanih trailing behind her like an eager pup.
A few breaks later, after Zuny had weedled his way under her defenses, he tried for probably the tenth time to get her to show him some magic. Real magic, the kind that shook the world, not just the subtle magic that underpinned the very lie of their existence as Yludih. It probably wouldn't hurt his attempts that she was well stoned on choice drugs that were slipped into her mead. So he asked her, as sweetly as could be. He had pure intentions, he wouldn't take advantage of her in that way, no. He wasn't one for bedding the unwilling. He might murder them afterward, but they always went to his bed with an open mind and heart. The better to stab them in the chest with a dagger! Ahem, but nevermind that thought.
Zunylanih often had such intrusive violent thoughts toward random people. It was a problem, or it would have been a problem if he wasn't adept at dealing with the aftermath. A race raised on lies was fairly good at hiding bodies, turns out.
But this wasn't about murder! At least not directly. Zunylanih wanted to learn her magic, so he spoke sweetly to her yes, and purred into her ear that he wanted her to show him magic, to write on him so that he might feel the power.
She turned to him, her pupils distended like saucers from the drug he'd sneaked into her drink. And she smiled sloppily all over her face. Then she nodded and pointed to Zuny's chest. "Stand schtill." She said, although Zuny was sitting, not standing. Would that be a problem? He thought to ask, before she did begin writing regardless.
Her finger traced energy over his chest, writing one rune after another. The first rune was an umbral one, of weakness, and nearly enough to make him lean into her, from the loss of strength to his upper body. But he held on, bracing himself against her shoulders with his arms, as she wrote the next rune, and the next, and the next. Each rune unveiled a new torment to the clown, and he felt himself filled with an energy that felt like unraveling his skin from the inside out. If he had skin, his illusory skin. He knew what he was thinking about, shut up.
The runes she scratched finally reached critical capacity, it seemed, as she wrote one rune too many. Then she fell back, and he fell over her as he was still weakened along the upper body. She began snoring, and he began panicking, wondering if he was meant to do something to deal with the utter pain wracking through his chest.
He felt his skin blackening at points, his inner light snuffing itself. He shook her awake, and screamed at her wordlessly. She panicked, and came to her senses after a fashion, the drug having run its course mostly. Then she remembered what she was about, roughly, and drew a rune of naming over the umbral runes she'd placed on his body. The rune overwrote the others, and so calmed the errant spark that was trying to turn Zunylanih into a being of darkness. I mean, more darkness than usual anyway.
He fell back, from the pain of it all, and had to rest until the umbral runes energies ran their course.
When he came back to life, he was alone, and Ekoh was nowhere to be seen. Had she abandoned him? Was she angry, or had she found out about his drugging and subsequent seduction to get her to teach him magic? Well there'd be no lessons it seemed, at least for the moment. But he'd gotten what he wanted out of her for now. Magic potential, that was worth the price of admission alone.
So he stood up, and limped back to the ramps leading to the tree city, toward his room in the Karshe Inn.
There, he sat still and thought on the runes that she had taught him, just by dint of carving them into his torso. One of them was a rune of strength, he knew this almost immediately upon touching the tracelines of the cryptic character on his chest. He took his finger, and began pressing along his forearm, making the vague shape of the strength rune. He meditated upon it as he did so, trying to replicate the same feeling that went into it, as well as intent.
Once he'd bound a touch trigger to the rune, he pressed on it, and was utterly surprised by the vitality that entered the limb. He felt like he could knock down a door with just his fist! As it was, he took a mug of amber mead and brought it to his lips. Just as he was about to taste it, the mug broke into pieces, as he'd gripped it a little too hard. "Hmph." He muttered, "Impressive? Or should i be calling room service to clean this mess UP?"
He thought on it for a moment, but then decided the effort had been a success.
He took a quill and inkpot that were lying on a nearby desk, and began drawing the runes visibly on his flesh, of his left and right arms, and also his abdomen to strengthen his core. That done, with a touch trigger applied to each, he activated them, and went out to the fire pit to make some wood for heating the circle around the Fire Pit.
Iyo bugs were no good for heating, after all, and he felt suddenly quite cold.
