Part 2: The meeting of paths

Thrandimir nods slowly in understanding, contemplating the meaning of what Ascian is telling him. "Your brother. Please, tell me about him," the wizard asks. "How did he end up stranded on another plane?"

"His name is Casimir. We were born together. I came second and I...didn't make it."   Ascian stares down at the orb, unable to quite meet Thrandimir's eye. It's a strange thing to admit out loud, through lips that by all accounts shouldn't be speaking. He'd been dead before he was alive. Somehow it makes things less horrifying to know that his lungs expanding hadn't been taken from him; that the years his heart did beat had been a fluke from the start. "He did for me what I did for Ember."  He looks up at the wizard at last. "I didn't ask him to. He's the one who belongs here. He's nicer. And he knows more. And he's funny."

Thrandimir's brow crinkles at this new information. "H-How? He made a deal? With the shadowfell ? As a newborn ? How did that work?"

Ascian stares at the wizard. He'd been so caught up in the why the how  hadn't ever really been a question. "I don't know," he says quietly.  He's not from here. This isn't free, Ascian. The voice he now knows to be   Faerus' from when he'd first brought Ember to Shadowfell echoes the same words in the back of his mind.  Defying death...it costs something. Part of yourself. "I don't know why we can do it," he continues slowly. "If maybe we're from there. But I know it's not free. He's stuck there because of it, and neither of us are right. Sometimes I think I get deader every day." He looks down at the wolf lying beside him, running a hand absently over the silver fur. "I'm weaker now than I was before Ember. However we do it, I don't think we're supposed to."

Thrandimir reclines from his position hunched over in front of Ascian, looking up at the ceiling as he strokes his beard in thought. "What anybody thinks that we are 'supposed to' do in this world is arbitrary at best," he remarks with only the slightest of eye rolls and a dismissive hand gesture. "Perhaps you're looking at this the wrong way around. You're weaker now than you were before you gave Ember life... perhaps you could be healed or grow even stronger by taking life from another in the same way? Perhaps, if you could bring somebody with you into the shadowfell, then you could transfer their lifeforce to Casimir and bring him back into the material plane." The wizard seems rather excited by the potential of this idea.

Ascian's hand doesn't still on Ember, a rhythmic motion that Thrandimir's words ensure he barely feels. At once he thinks of Lilli again; of her lying beneath him as he blocked breath and blood.  Maybe this is what you're good at , he'd thought then in horror.  Maybe this is what you missed. So much time fighting it, so much time worrying; so much time trying to be better. All when maybe this is what he'd been meant for from the start. "It's possible,"  he says slowly, the dread he'd expected to feel failing to come; instead it's dull, cautious hope that rises in its place, thinking of Casimir, Casimir, Casimir.  "But I don't know how to get them there. I think Ember only went the first time because he was already dead, and now because he's part of me. Fa–" He swallows back the high elf's name. "A spell, maybe. Do you know of one that could do that."

"Perhaps," Thrandimir admits, tilting his head left and right as he muses on the idea,  "but nothing easy. Usually, the best thing to do in a situation like this is to experiment ," he tells Ascian with an eager glint in his eye. "Perhaps any creature that is close to death can be brought through with you to bargain for its life force? That's a hypothesis that we can test. You said that you had found a way to travel to the shadowfell and remain there for a time. How do you do that?"

Ascian’s quiet for a moment. But this is Thrandimir , who he’s already gone through so much with. What’s one more dark secret. “Swear not to tell. The others won’t like it.” 

"Of course," Thrandimir assures Ascian, all of a sudden very earnest and serious, "on my father's memory." The wizards eyes drift back to Ash's orb as they talk, the green of which is conspicuously similar to that of 'the Watcher's' eye.

“I met someone,” Ascian admits, thinking to ask about Thrandimir’s father when this is through. It seems impossible the wizard had ever been young.  “A friend. He sold me something to make me sleep. I didn’t think anything could, but it works. And when I do, that’s where I go. To Shadowfell.”

" Fascinating ," Thrandimir marvels, continuing to stroke at his beard. "We could try it with a small animal the first time. Feed it some of this concoction too and slowly bring it to the edge of death besides you. Perhaps, in this way, you will find that somebody or something can make the jump with you. Are you usually alone on the other side, or with your brother?"

He hesitates, thinking of a wizard for a wizard; the man who for all intents and purposes appeared to be Casimir's Thrandimir. "He's been there when I've gone. He said he follows me. If we go to Dragonvale, he'll go there too. Or at least its mirror. There's sometimes others. But even when I'm there, I'm not really there. I tried to give him my ring, but he went through it." He agitatedly twists the metal on his finger with his thumb. "I think animals would be the same. Even less there than I am. Like Ember."

"...and yet this came back with you." Thrandimir notes, gesturing to the green orb. " How ? Either way, the point remains that if you could give life to Ember, then you could surely take it in a similar situation." The wizard temples his fingers in thought. "You mentioned Dragonvale - perhaps location plays a role. If we could find a place where the barrier between the material world and the shadowfell is thin, then maybe that would be the place to send a life through to empower Casimir and return him to you."

"Like Marianne's." Ascian watches him with cautious hope. "I thought about that. But I don't know that she'd help me. She didn't want to before."

"Marianne does what she does, because it serves the needs of the many," Thrandimir grimly agrees, "but right now I am more interested in the needs of the few. I will research the possibility of other places where the walls between the worlds wear thin... and you please speak with Casimir about your options. Perhaps you can find and exploit the essence of some creature that already exists on the other side?" The wizard reaches out to clasp warm fingers about Ash's clammy wrist. "This is a puzzle, but those are made to be solved, Ascian. Fear not - I will help you. The question is merely how."

Ascian jumps slightly at the contact but lets it linger for a long moment before he pulls away. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re here. The other one isn’t the same.” 

Thrandimir looks more amused than ever. "Poor Sable would be outraged," he jokes, before catching himself and speaking more earnestly. "Ascian, be it Thrandimir, Sable, or any other wizard, we are all here for you. You only have to say what you need."

“I can’t talk to other wizards like I can you,”  he responds uncomfortably, drawing his knees back up his chest.  “Are you staying. Or do you have to go back?”

"I can stay, for now," Thrandimir agrees with a nod, "as long as my presence doesn't attract any unwanted attention."

"You've said that before," Ascian says slowly. "Who are you hiding from."

"Tim Ridnar," Thrandimir remarks with a sarcastic laugh. "His past and anybody who might be able to connect him to Thrandimir the great and powerful." He explains with a wink.

Ascian frowns at the deflection, toneless as he states,  "I can't help if I don't know what I'm looking for."

Thrandimir sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. "People watching us and trying to be inconspicuous about it. Especially if they look like they might be from the north. People asking questions about me, where I've been and what I was doing there. Unfortunately, they're unlikely to be wearing jack boots and stylishly designed uniforms - that would make this significantly easier."

"They don't need to be. I'm a good listener. And people like to forget that I'm there." He stores the information away, noting its importance. "What did the king want."

"Pomp, circumstance and politics," Thrandimir quips back, "...not necessarily in that order. Word of our 'good deeds' seems to have gotten back to his majesty , which may be useful to us, but I imagine that he also just wants to demonstrate his influence by summoning us. It's a show of dominance as much as anything else. To us, lest we start to consider ourselves more important than he deems appropriate, and to his political opponents."

Ascian's gaze is blank at the mere concept of pomp and politics washes over him, the utter opposite of everything he knew how to handle. Large gatherings were something he knew how to disappear into and make use the advantage, but small ones where the group was a focus? There could have been no situation more ill-suited for someone like him, or, perhaps worse, like Ember. If he had at all second-guessed his decision not to go to the messenger with them, he was cured of it now. "Will this affect us leaving," he asks, almost reluctant to hear the answer. "We're still going to go to Dragonvale. Right?"

"That's the plan," Thrandimir assures Ascian. "Unless this meeting changes things significantly, that is. We don't have all the information yet."

"Okay," he agrees unenthusiastically, "I just need to know when. Once you know. I only have enough doses to go a couple more times. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get more in Dragonvale."

Getting lost a few times, Katrin eventually traces the path back to the little tailor shop she'd visited previously. At the door, she only pauses briefly, the messenger's words flitting through her mind again, his sneering superiority fresh.  Never done a hard days work in his life, I'll guess, she thinks sourly, then pushes the door of Miranda Savich's shop open, stepping inside.  

sansasnark said: "Okay," he agrees unenthusiastically, "I just need to know when. Once you know. I only have enough doses to go a couple more times. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get more in Dragonvale." "How much is it?" Thrandimir asks flatly. "Let's pick up as much as we can before we leave."

"I bought all he had," Ascian admits. "He said it's hard to come by. I want to meet with him again before we go. I just need to know when. Maybe he knows someone in Dragonvale." 

Thrandimir nods. "When I know, you will. The king has assured your safety from the church on the streets," he mentions matter-of-factly. "Akiran, Thezra and I are getting some food and then going to the tailor; care to join us?" The wizard extends a hand down to Ascian to help him up.

Ascian stares at the hand as if he's never seen one before. Thrandimir and Katrin would be one thing, but that combination after the night prior feels impossible.  "I don't think they'd want me to."

"So what?" Thrandimir counters irreverently. "I do. What does it matter what they want? Come on, let's go!"

The disregard takes him off guard, but he exchanges looks with Ember and ultimately climbs to his feet to follow.

With Ascian in tow, Thrandimir returns to the Arcane Minded, where he hopes to find Akiran and Thezra. "Ok, we're all set," he tells the pair when he finds them. "All this talk has left me starving. You know, I hear that it's great with fried potato as well..."

Katrin steps into the shop. The place is completely unchanged from her last visit, and the old woman is in the exact same place. She squints down at Katrin. "How can I help you, dearie?" she says, her voice scratchy with age. Akiran, Thezra, Lilliana, Thrandimir, Ascian, and Ember head up to the edge of the Amber Market. As they approach the stall indicated by Thrandimir, their noses are permeated by the pleasant smell of cooking meats. Ember sniffs audibly, a thin drip of drool beginning to form at the corners of his mouth. Behind the stand, a stack of what looks to be lamb is skewered through the middle and caramelizing as it turns on a vertical spit set between several close fires. The spit seems to be connected to a nearby wooden wheel, where a dog walks leisurely, occasionally snatching at a piece of meat that the human curator tosses his way. The dog barks excitedly as soon as he catches Ember's scent, the speed of the spit's turning increasing ever so slightly. The bronze-skinned human behind the stall sports a thick, black mustache and beard that pokes out under a wide-brimmed hat. "Howdy, howdy, y'all," he says with a smooth drawl. "Might I interest you in some perfectly cured meats?"

Katrin lingers in the doorway for a brief moment before fully stepping inside. Why had she come here? It seemed unlikely that the seamstress would've finished Ember's padded armor so soon. She purses her lips. "I was wondering if you had any experience with Dwarven fashion." 

"Dwarven fashion?" The woman hums to herself as she scrutinizes Katrin. "I have some. Were you looking for anything in particular?" Without waiting for her to respond, she turns away and brings forward an oddly-shaped sleeveless tunic. "I believe that this is what you ordered the last time you were here. I just  finished it."

Katrin's surprise is brief. "You work quickly." She contemplates the question. "I have an old sketch. A pattern. From years ago, it was something my mother was going to have made. Unfortunately, that never happened." 

"It turns out that a tunic for a wolf is actually less  work than a tunic for a person," Miranda says with a bemused smile. "Let out the hem, cut down the sleeves, it's fairly simple...if a bit...odd. Now, let's see this sketch." When Katrin offers it, Miranda takes the parchment and studies it closely. "I could make this. I have something similar already in that color...would just need to work in that embroidery on the collar and sleeves. Would only take a day or so."

Lilliana looks at the strange sight and giggles a bit. "Could I get some of..."  she points at the skewered meat. "What is that called? And how do you eat it?"

Katrin is silent for a moment. "My friends and I have been invited to dine with the King. Tomorrow night. Is it possible to have it done by then?"

"With the king? Oh my,"  she says, suddenly looking rather uncomfortable. She stammers a bit before continuing.  "By tomorrow, yes...yes I think so. Since you came so early in the day. Total price will be 14 gold. Half up front, half on completion. And I believe that owe me..." She checks her notes, staring down through her thick spectacles. "...ten more gold for the wolf tunic." "Traveler I learned it from called it a hee-row , or some such other thing," the man says. "Me, I call it deeee -licious!" He takes a thin-bladed serrated knife with a slight backwards curve to the blade and carves some of the meat off into a piece of thick, flat bread. He makes several passes, revealing the distinct layers upon layers of cooking meat. He ladles a bit of a creamy sauce onto it, wraps it in paper, and hands it to Lilli. "Two silver," he says, holding out his hand.

Katrin notes the woman's sudden discomfort. Silently, she counts the money out, sliding 17 gold across the counter. She looks at the old woman, and after a moment, speaks. "I have no love for his Majesty. But a summons is a summons. And it would be rude to refuse," her voice is careful, gauging Miranda's response. Not to mention that there might be dire consequences for refusing.... " Thank you. I'll return tomorrow." She turns to leave. 

The old woman coughs once. "You truly have no love for the king?"

Katrin stops, the weight of the old woman's question bearing down on her shoulders. Slowly, she turns back, her eyes suddenly wary. "His subjects are sent to die every day in a pointless war. I've had friends conscripted to his army. They never returned." A long pause. "Why do you ask?" 

Savich studies Katrin for a several heartbeats before pushing seven gold pieces back across the table. "I'll do your dress for free. But it will include a scarf. Once you're inside the palace gates, you will leave that scarf in a meeting area of some sort. The king's office, or study, or something like that. Concealed in some way. Can you do this?"

She studies the woman. Clearly, what she was asking was dangerous. Quite possibly a trap. But if she was telling the truth...and what she was asking wasn't going to end in capture or death... And she was clearly taking a risk by telling Katrin anything about this.  "If I do this...no one else can know of my involvement. There are some in my group who would not take kindly to something like this. I don't want to risk this getting to him."

"Nobody need know but you and me," Savich says simply.