Fallen Remus

A young woman on her knees was begging the madam of the tavern, her whines have waken up many costumers. Her melodious voice now hoarse. Her once golden hair now no different from wet straw. The green velvet dress she wears used to bring envy of many court ladies are now worn out, encrusted with blood and mud.

The money is more than enough to accommodate them all in their best room, but not the dying one, no one will bring death in their own home, much more a cursed one.

But seeing the pleading eyes of the woman, the Madam gave in, or else no one will be able to sleep tonight. Pale gray eyes with a sade of golden and lilac, the Madam knows, she is trouble, but can't send them away, fallen nobles are all like this, especially those who descent from the Heralds. Reluctantly the Madam sent a boy to escort them in the shed on the back of the building.

«Thyal! Lucathyal! We can stay! We can stay!»

The young lady shouted, don't know if it's rain or if it's tears, drops of water grows down her cheeks. A dark skinned youth raises to face her, a gentle smile on it but only bitterness are beyond those tin lips, bitterness from all those unspoken words of truth.

«Yes, my lady» but little hope there is for the young master to live. My healing power is not enough, we need at least a bishop to cure him and keep the curse at bay.

Once reached the shed, and helped the guest to accommodate, the boy went away, running with those oversized old boots that seemed to slip away at any moment from his scrawny legs, causing him to nearly stumble a few time. Lucathyal watched him went away melancholy, until his silhouette turned the corner, disappearing.

Then he gazed at the young lady.

It's been hard these days, she seems to age more and more, buy days of sorrow have just begun, more and more pain awaits her, and it will be like that until she'll become numb from its.

«Lady Euphilia, this—»

«I know...He will live and—and everything will be fine again.» Tha lady looked back at the youth, gazing in his gray eyes in search of answers, but there was nothing, hopeless like the clowdy winter sky, not a ray of sun could be found.

«Pray with me…Please, pray with me.»Tears threatened to leak again from those already red eyes.

This won't last long, my lady...2 or 3 days at most if they don't kill us before that time. This he wanted to say, but in the end, this also have been shallowed back.

So they prayed, prayed until the lady fell asleep.

The man on the blanket keeps shivering, his tanned skin had lost its color, a ghost remains as what he used to be, an arrogant man full of himself, of his strength. But the weight he was trying to carry was greater that he could have thought and in the end he crumbled under it.

The Concil had always been divided in two, aristocracy and bourgeoisie, the Monach and the High Priest were just bystanders watching from the side, or at least in the surface... In the surface everything looked calm, but under it the water was boiling madly and it's scorching hot.

His hands extended over his master's wounds, a faith and tepid light could be seen in the dark shed. A low tier healing spell, only enough to stop the bleeding and and slow down the spreading of the curse.

The young man looked out at the horizon , the last hue of sunlight was dying out.

Who's going to rob us today? Some greedy rat will surely come. Until when I'll still be able to protect them?

Few hours later someone really came, more than one. They're fast, but not enough, a bunch of filthy vermin were easy to kill, no... It would be easy to kill if it was only me... The lady woke up, still in daze she looked around foolishly then opening her eyes wide at the fight in front of her.

Before she could open her mouth a shadow swiftly approached her and bought her roughly in a dark corner.

As the fight ended the youth turned around anf pointed his rapier at the dark figure that's holding the lady, whose trembling all over.

«Nice fight~ And good sword. Does it have a name~?» the shadow spoke with a mellow tone.

« What do you want?»

«... That man is dead.» those robbers? Of course they're dead, it's referring to the man laying on the old blanket.

« What do you want?» the youth split out again articulating a word at time.

«You put down the sword and I give you the lady. I'll count until 'three'. Ok~?» from that tone it's obviously smiling, sounding like a trickster. Can one really believe such person?

The swordman gritted his teeth.

Without even waiting for an answer she started to count slowly.

« One~» that 'one' lasted at least 2 seconds.

«Two~!» then it suddenly pushed Euphilia towards the youth forcing him to retract quickly the riper and hold the lady.

«Now we can talk~» as Lukathyal was helping his lady he gave a resentful glare at the shadow. Talk!? After abducting his lady and nearly got her killed?!

«Oh! Come on! You wouldn't have put down the sword and with your reflex you wouldn't possibly hurt her! And if I didn't take her, someone else would had to. You should thank me. Tze~»

Seeing the youth's gaze the shadow responded mortified while gesticulating.

«Thanks! If you have nothing else to say then go away.» he said with a dry voice.

«Well...» It raised a hand a pointed at Brandr. «He's dead.»

«He's not!» the lady said desperately.

«You better face the reality, young lady. The wound is deep and it's in gangrene, you should at least use maggots to clean it, disinfect it and mend it. Haven't you ever saw people do it? Even slaves knows it.»

«... What about the curse? Are you here just to criticize us? Or pity us?» Lukathyal looked with frown at the shadow, who's now learning leasuly against the wooden wall.

«Pity? Maybe... I don't know shit about curses so I said that he's dead, I can smell it from the other side of the tavern. » then it slowly made her way to a old stool exposing itself to the dim light of the lamp.

Black straight hair, dark eyes, without any conspicuous trait, not beautiful but it couldn't be said that's ugly or plain. A hint of a smile could be noticed, but at the same time not a smile.

A male ? Mmm...A female? Maybe...If it has Ayuvon blood then it's male, but if it a descendant those rougher or plainer races then it's a she. «Who are you?» the lady asked.

«No one relevant to remember--» and she smiled, like the gentle smile of a caring auntie, although she looks more like a worn out scholar from the Emilton R. Academy, those dark circles under her eyes and the lofty vibe of her pissed face are really similar to those pompous desk-warmers.

«--But I want to propose you a trade. »