In Flagrante Delicto

[Imogen]

"Aha." Imogen laughed at Finn's comment regarding the Lady of Chains, "You might be surprised at what strange things can be sanctioned. Even as the Order tightened its grip on Zaichaer, it often permitted popular shows about heroic rebellion. Many despots fancy themselves freedom-fighters, after all. Well... before the cultural laws, anyway. Then it was all classical opera."

The Ork's voice was scathing, as though she had tasted something absolutely vile in the admission. It had been a real disappointment for her, when Zaichaer had gone to war (and then exploded). Not just because of the horrific fallout of that event, but because it had forcibly canceled Aurin's ambitions to do troupe performances in the Pfenning. She'd had few chances to watch the shows in Kalzasi, and by that time the Pfenning was running ballets and interminable operas about lovers with unpronounceable names dying in tragic fashion. Not that there was anything wrong with a tragic opera now and again, but it felt like the officer corps wanted nothing else! Plus, she'd never gotten to see any of the really famous Kalzasaern singers.

Finn's next remark jerked her out of her reverie, however, and a light blush lit her cheeks. She cleared her throat before responding:

"Don't call Kitty adorable, his ego's bad enough as it is." the shadows roiled around her feet, but the cat did not deign to reply, "...well, you aren't wrong, but that's nothing special. If you've got nothing to fight for, you don't fight. Every single stupid, pointless war is fueled by love on every side."

The witch looked down at Karmordi's unconscious form. "Karmordi says he wants to fight a primal to have the power to defend Ecith. In his heart, he thinks he wants that power to obtain glory, to become a great warrior and stand alongside Achaka. What he doesn't get is that if you slay a primal, you assume responsibility for its territory, its place in the natural order, for all of the people who come to shelter in your village."

Imogen looked back up at Finn, her eyes narrow. "That's why I never killed one. You need power to protect people, to accomplish anything, but power's a poisonous thing. You understand that, don't you? If you want to do whatever you have to do, you can't stay who you are."

The Great and Ancient Witch shook her head, her long black mane trailing her annoyed face. "Very annoying. I'd write to the gods with a complaint, but the postal service in Drathera doesn't reach the Aetherium."

[Finn]

"A philosopher might debate that we can't stay who we are if we live in Time, but I take your point," he said.

Now, he did Command. His will permeated Karmordi's symphony and drove him down, and down, deeper into his subconscious, willing his body to enter a healing coma. If the healers were nearly as skilled as the Assessors and such in Solunarium, that would leave him in the best position for them to do their job.

He smiled. Said, "Well, you know where at least three of them live. I could forward something to the Divine Twins of Solunarium. They might even respond to you. We are living in interesting times. But you are not wrong. When I faced them down in their prison in Mount Kaladon, I was not alone. I was ready to sacrifice myself for him. You would think the Goddess of Sacrifice would have been pleased, and perhaps She was, but She did not accept my death. Instead, they chose us. I don't know if Aværys put the will to power in me or if He merely awakened what was already there, disabused me of my self-deception. I always said I wanted my art to touch people, and it did. It would have done that without divine intervention. Now my words change minds more powerfully than before. My power grows, but so too does my responsibility.

"There is a woman in Solunarium I wish was here to speak to you, but alas, I think it would require Command to change her deep-seated beliefs about the Orkhan people." He sighed. Even if the Senate acquiesced to the annexation, he supposed the mountains between them would have to remain a partition for some time. He didn't know how quickly the power structure of Solunarium could change the minds of its people."

As for Zaichaer, he found the mere mention of it no longer triggered his emotions as it once had. He had made it clear to the Assessors that they were not to touch his trauma, that he wanted to learn to deal with it on his own, not merely have it wiped away. The body remembered. If the mind didn't, there would be a schism between them, and that would just make life all the more difficult. And wasn't life difficult enough already?

"You know Zaichaeri opera. I know you can't stay long in Ecith, but if there is anything I might arrange quickly for you—musically speaking—please do let me know."

[Imogen]

Imogen yawned and closed her eyes as Finn spoke, which would have been unforgivably insulting in Zaichaer but was pretty standard behavior in Ecith. She nodded along as he spoke about "the Divine Twins", as though she had any idea what the fuck he was talking about. They were imprisoned in a mountain? Goddess of sacrifice? What the hell were those desert elves doing, worshipping a goddess of chains and sacrifice who was imprisoned inside a mountain?

No, it would have been unforgivably rude to just blurt something like that out. Moreover, it would totally ruin the mystique she was aiming for, here. She'd come off as just another Orkish yokel, boggling at the foreign man describing his foreign practices.

Hell, they couldn't be worse than what she'd lived through in Zaichaer for over two decades. Maybe if you worshipped an evil god but kept them chained up in a mountain, it all sort of worked out? The witch wasn't sure that made sense, but the world never felt any real need to make sense. Things happened even when you couldn't understand why. In fact-

An instinct spurred Imogen on, and she opened her eyes, fixing them on Finn. Her mouth widened into the most shit-eating grin he'd ever seen, and for just a moment there was nothing but madness behind her violet eyes. "Hey, I may not be ancient, but I'm still the Great Witch, remember? Don't be so sure I haven't met your friends."

Imogen turned around and observed the rising sun. It was getting on towards noon, and she had work left to do before she could leave Drathera again. But Finn's displays had solidified a scheme in her mind. Two schemes, actually. And the art of witchcraft was taking those half-baked schemes and making them work, better than anyone imagined.

The witch turned back to Finn, her smile much less crazed now, and held up a finger.

"First, do me a favor, if you please- when Karmordi wakes up, tell him that I'll give him the training he needs on the slopes of Dawn Peak, on Ailos, where the last Shrine of Ysandre stands on the pilgrim's road. But before he goes, he needs to do two things: first, he needs to decide which Primal he will challenge. Second, as payment to me, I want him to bring me the tongue of a Liar-Beast of the western jungles. Properly preserved, mind." She paused, then added, "If he objects, tell him that those are not, in fact, mythical. They can only be hunted alone, but must never be fought alone. He can figure it out."

Imogen added a second finger to her tally.

"As for music... I'd like to show you what separates witchcraft from magery, and what makes me the Great Witch. Come to the field outside the Temple of Raxen at noon tomorrow and play for me a nostalgic song; a child's song. A song beyond us, but ourselves. If you do that, you'll resolve my business here and remove a potential political obstacle for you in the Senate, at least for a while."

[Finn]

Finn might not have been delving deep into her symphony, but when her eyes closed, an amused smile turned the corners of his mouth upward. He couldn't blame her for the theatrics, and there were aspects of her manner and her mien that reminded him of his grandmother—not because she was ancient, but because she was a witch, he supposed. A dose of fear around magic was healthy, she had always said, and then she had often regressed into muttering. Everyone had always said she was his favorite grandchild, but he had only spent the most time with her. He wondered if she had intended to make a witch of him if he passed some test or another; it was her bequest that had pulled Zef into his life to give him first one, and later a second Rune.

The difference between magic and witchcraft, indeed.

But he listened to her instructions for Karmordi, nodding assent and understanding. He would likely pass along the little revelation that Innogen had not, in fact, defeated a Primal as the responsibility for its domain had proven too much a burden, and understandably so.

Finn didn't know whether he had true wisdom to pass along, but he would offer his advice if Karmordi asked for it.

In the meantime, he considered their third date. He nodded. Noon was free and he could renegotiate his afternoon schedule to leave it open as she had given him an open-ended time. Whether or not she was a chronomancer like some of the senators, he didn't know. Having had his own experiences with it, he could have wished it were saved for less frivolous uses, but then, he was not the King of Ecith.

"Tomorrow at noon," he agreed. "A nostalgic song."

With a faint smile, he nodded to her. Then he set those things of Karmordi's he had been holding on the ork, and carefully lifted him up in his arms. He might have simply vaulted, but Arkænyn would have whinged about it later. Instead, a portal opened and he could sense his thrall and the other Sentinel approaching.

"Until then, O Slightly Ancient and Venerable Witch."

[Hekatos]

Review

Innogen and Finn get 10 xp and Karmordi doesn't because he might just be a red shirt who dies from all the terrible things Innogen did to him.

To be continued...