Mirage2401
Serf
- Local time
- Tomorrow 3:06 AM
- Messages
- 4
- Age
- 40
- Pronouns
- she
Vitri let out a hacking cough as she tried to rid her burning throat of the last vestiges of her latest failed attempt. She prayed that her dark curls and eyebrows had remained unscathed. Finally able to breathe again she grabbed the flask and flung it at the source of the ghostly grumbling. “I am well aware.” She spat back angrily. “You had been rather vocal even when the request slip came.” She started scribbling furiously in her notes again. “You could help, you know. Áctual help. A formulation. A preservative. Anything.” Vitri punctuated each frustrated utterance by stabbing holes in the already worn parchment. She cocked her head and listened. Silence. Of course. Her ghostly grandmother never answered - not when Vitri begged nor screamed, not even now, when she was days away from losing the only roof over her head. If the old hag had been stubborn in life she was stone now. A crevice in stone, more aptly: nearly impossible to ignore and once finally stoppered, certain to reappear in a few years.
The door to her little apartment creaked open and a small nose, ruddy with cold, poked inside. “I brought food. Can I come in?” The voice was soft but steady, not exactly cheerful but the abscence of fear in it, made Vitri smile despite her frustration. She pushed her notes aside. “Come on in, I don’t know why you still ask. You live here now.” The nose was followed by a thin and freckly face and a gangly boyish body as Jhetam entered. He looked so much healthier these days. He smiled hesitantly. “I’m not bothering you?” Vitri shook her head. “I’m at a stalemate anyway. Let me see what you have there.” She did her best to keep her voice light as she feigned interest in the dish he balanced precariously on one rather grubby hand. It would be gruel. Naturally, as they couldn’t afford anything more. The boy had seen enough darkness and didn’t need her scorn too. “Jhetam! Are those carrots?” She extended her hands allowing him to place the steaming bowl into her open palms. He grinned. “They are.” She eyed the colourful pieces adrift in the normally bleak meal. “And where, pray tell, did you find this luxury?” She tried to keep the suspicion from her tone but it must’ve seeped in, as he rushed to defend himself. “No stealing this time, I promise.” He slid two fingers in a quick arc across his left brow, invoking the Old One’s own truth.
Jhetam had come to her door cold…well, colder and weak. For six moon turns he never spoke a word, but he stole. By the Old One did he take everything and anything that could disappear into the folds of the ratty old cloack she’d bought him. Bar that, he’d stick his hoard under an armpit or tuck it into his shoe. Vitri would be the first to admit that his quick hands had gotten them through more than one month where the request slips were few, but she hated that it was needed. She had to do better, had to be better. “It was just a card trick, showed it to the stable boy down at the house by the creek.” Vitri’s mind had already drifted back to her notes her eyes racing over her calculations. She nodded absently. “Good. As long as it was just cards.” She set the bowl down, careful not to disturb any of her equipment. She’d already ruined one flask unnecessarily today and the price of glass, like everything else, only ever went up. She glanced back up at Jhetam. His face was crestfallen. “You won’t even try it?” He asked. She sighed in resignation. He’d probably only seen twelve summers. She hoped he’d see another twelve. She could smile for his sake. Scooping up a large moutful, she smiled as she chewed. “It’s really great, thank you Jhetam.” He nodded solemnly; the grin he’d worn moments before, had vanished. Vitri didn’t know what else to say, so she gamely shoved another spoonful into her mouth to appease him. “There.” she mumbled around the food. “Your gambling prowess will have me fattened up in no time.” He’d taken to worrying about whether she ate. Understandably so, she supposed. The thin were either sick or already dying. The thin couldn’t weather another winter. The thin would leave him.
She needed to get this done. It was worth fifty silvers. It would cover the rent for months. It would mean a new blanket for cold nights, it meant fixing the floorboard where the gods cursed rats got in. “Any new slips?” She asked him hopefully. He shook his head silently. She suppressed another sigh. “Not to worry, we’ll be living like kings once I get this one done.” She smiled brightly, waving him off with her spoon. “Go on, go see those new caps at Aida’s, one of them will be yours soon.” She waited for the door to close behind him before she picked up her mortar and pestle with determined hands.
The problem lay with the iron. She’d figured out that much. It has taken countless attempts, a cracked alembic and more gas than she had cared to spend, but she was close. If only the iron would stick. The rent was due in three days. There would be no reprieve this time. Morgrim would take payment in bone and Vitri wasn’t prepared to part with any of her toes just yet. The request box had remained ominously empty and she could read the sad regret in Jhetam’s eyes each day he came to report to her. Vitri stirred the mixture slowly with a well practiced wrist swirl, careful not to spill any. There was no coin left for new ingredients. This time, it had to work. “Hope…” Grandmother whispered. “Just Hope.” Vitri gritted her teeth and took slow deep breaths supressing the urge to throw something again. She knew what had to be done. She needed to add the hair of the client and then the iron to seal the bond. Problem was, each time she did, the mixture blew up in her face. “Too complex.” Grandmother muttered. “I know.” Vitri retorted sharply. “One cannot charge fifty silver for something simple.” Vitri sat back in her chair, rubbing her aching back. The client had been specific. A love potion. That part was simple enough. Vitri had made them by the bucketful in the past. This client however, wanted not love but obsession. Not need but craving. Vitri found the request that the potion induce the inability to walk the light of day with another, particularly abhorrent. Things started to look a lot less horrible in the face of ruin however. She would do what needed to be done. Fifty silver could take them to the ocean. They could eat seasnails baked straight in the shell, sip on mango juice pressed right before their eyes. Vitri had heard of these things but had never had the means to go. “Just Hope.” Grandmother whispered as if she could hear her thoughts. This time Vitri froze. Surely she didn’t mean… Vitriena Hope Valecinder. She hated that middle name. Had all but forgotten it even existed. Yet there it was. A possibility. Hope.
Vitri hesitated. Her hand would have trembled if she was not known to have the steadiest hands in all of Kalimor. It was just one drop. The customer was some highborn lord or lady. They would never meet and even if they did, the potion would be long consumed or destabilised by then. There was no danger here. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest anyway. She needed the iron and it was right there. Inside her blood, already perfectly imbued. Everyone knew that blood contained minuscule amounts of iron. She could practically hear it rushing along with her blood. This would work. It had to. Still Vitri didn’t move. She should use the customer’s blood. Even as she considered it, she knew there was no way a noble would give of their blood to some back alley potionist. She was out of time anyway. The compounds would not remain active for long without the binder. She would not even consider using Jhetam. The mere thought made her stomach churn. Animals - too unpredictable. The potion sputtered in demand. She swore quietly. Now or never. She tossed the sprig of dark hair into the churning liquid. She had only seconds to provide the drop of blood the seething potion wanted. She pricked her finger with her dagger and allowed a single ruby droplet to join the nearly black lock inside the potion. Vitri held her breath. The thick, tarry potion blew out a huff of steam and sagged inward. Slowly, a deep purple blossomed at its centre, spreading its purple tendrils, till the entirety of the mixture turned a shimmering shade of periwinkle. Vitri whooped loudly. For the first time ever she felt like a Hope.
Vitri caught her reflection just as she finished cleaning the last of her equipment. She looked terrible. Her normally messy braid no longer deserved to be called a braid. Dark, sleepless shadows ringed her eyes - but she was smiling anyway. They’d go to the bath house soon, use real towels and they’d get that green cap. She would get a whole bag of apples - the big ones.
A soft knock sounded at the door. She leapt from her seat, her fatigue forgotten. “You’re knocking now? Come on in already! Let me see our treasure.” She called to Jhetam. The broken floorboard creaked in warning as the figure stepped into the room pushing open the door. Decidedly nót Jhetam. Vitri fumbled for her dagger but found her hip bare. She looked around wildly and saw it glinting mockingly from her work bench.
“Hello, Vitriena.” Her head whipped back to figure. No. It couldn’t be. Her grandmother hissed and Vitri knew; it was him. She’d know that gravelly tone anywhere, she’d explored the slope of those shoulders on countless nights, kissed those full lips till the sun rose.
Raze held up a coinpurse and a slow smile spread across his handsome features. His steely gaze held her captive, calm, appraising. A hunter reading its prey. Vitri stumbled back against the bench, unable to look away. She tried to grasp at the dagger behind her blindly. “You…you should be dead.” Vitri stammered hoarsely, as if saying the words could make them true. Raze’s smile widened but she noticed it never reached his eyes. Cold, hard and brutal eyes she no longer recognised but also thought to never see again. Her chest ached for it. Raze arched one eyebrow. “Strange. As I feel very much alive.” Vitri shook her head, as if denying it would help her cause. “I saw the lifelight leave your eyes.” He was advancing towards her slowly but her words seemed to give him pause. “When you left, maybe it did.” For a moment, a flicker of pain seemed to distort his smile, but it was gone in an instant. All of her old anger and hurt bubbled back to the surface and Vitri tasted bile. “You chose! You chose them!” She shouted at Raze accusingly. He shook is head stoically. “I took the only option that was left to me. To us.” Vitri’s fingers finally closed around the dagger. “There is no US, Raze. You betrayed everything we were.” He wasn’t wearing armour, which meant she had a chance. “I made a deal Vi.” He continued to speak soothingly. “You will understand when you see, when we get there.” He was wearing leather boots where as she was barefoot. She needed to be light and fast. One chance. Keep him talking. Vitri’s head spun and her mouth had gone dry. “Where is Jhetam?” Raze tilted his head, momentarily puzzled. “Oh, the boy. Safe. But he won’t remain so, the lengths he will go to for apples are…concerning.” Vitri had to clutch at her workbench to keep herself from flying at his beautiful face. Not yet.
Raze gestured around her tiny home. “Is this really the life you want Vi? Barely scraping by, working for mere silvers? You could be a queen. My queen.” Vitri snorted. “Sure, I only have to sell my soul.” Raze’s shoulders sagged as he looked away and for the briefest instant he looked almost vulnerable. Now. The time to act was now but she couldn’t move. Not while he wore that look like it was pain. He lifted his grey eyes to hers and they were cold and calculating once more. “I knew it would hurt. So I sought to make this easier for you.” Vitri’s eyes darted to Raze’s other hand as he lifted the familiar flask. “I call it Hope.” He said flatly. Fear closed its icy fingers around Vitri’s neck. She flung the dagger at the flask in desperation. Raze batted the missile aside effortlessly. He tutted with what sounded like real disappointment. “You still have the same tell, Vi. How am I to keep you alive?” He held up the potion again, answering his own question. “This. This is how.” Vitri gave a brittle laugh. “It doesn’t work that way, Raze. The subject has to be prepared. Weeks of ingesting your blood would be needed and that potion will barely hold till morning.” She expected him to lose his temper then, but he smiled patiently. “Haven’t you Vi? For the price of apples, I know exactly how you like your gruel.” Vitri felt the world tilt beneath her. It was too much. His betrayal, his plotting, happening all over again. She braced for impact as her knees gave way. Somewhere coins clattered to the floor. Strong arms wrapped around her back as Raze caught her. Vitri barely noticed the small prick in her shoulder. “I’ve got you Vi. Now and for eternity.” He opened her slack lips softly. Her limbs felt like lead but survival made her swallow instead of drown as he tilted the potion into her mouth. In the corner her grandmother started to scream.
The door to her little apartment creaked open and a small nose, ruddy with cold, poked inside. “I brought food. Can I come in?” The voice was soft but steady, not exactly cheerful but the abscence of fear in it, made Vitri smile despite her frustration. She pushed her notes aside. “Come on in, I don’t know why you still ask. You live here now.” The nose was followed by a thin and freckly face and a gangly boyish body as Jhetam entered. He looked so much healthier these days. He smiled hesitantly. “I’m not bothering you?” Vitri shook her head. “I’m at a stalemate anyway. Let me see what you have there.” She did her best to keep her voice light as she feigned interest in the dish he balanced precariously on one rather grubby hand. It would be gruel. Naturally, as they couldn’t afford anything more. The boy had seen enough darkness and didn’t need her scorn too. “Jhetam! Are those carrots?” She extended her hands allowing him to place the steaming bowl into her open palms. He grinned. “They are.” She eyed the colourful pieces adrift in the normally bleak meal. “And where, pray tell, did you find this luxury?” She tried to keep the suspicion from her tone but it must’ve seeped in, as he rushed to defend himself. “No stealing this time, I promise.” He slid two fingers in a quick arc across his left brow, invoking the Old One’s own truth.
Jhetam had come to her door cold…well, colder and weak. For six moon turns he never spoke a word, but he stole. By the Old One did he take everything and anything that could disappear into the folds of the ratty old cloack she’d bought him. Bar that, he’d stick his hoard under an armpit or tuck it into his shoe. Vitri would be the first to admit that his quick hands had gotten them through more than one month where the request slips were few, but she hated that it was needed. She had to do better, had to be better. “It was just a card trick, showed it to the stable boy down at the house by the creek.” Vitri’s mind had already drifted back to her notes her eyes racing over her calculations. She nodded absently. “Good. As long as it was just cards.” She set the bowl down, careful not to disturb any of her equipment. She’d already ruined one flask unnecessarily today and the price of glass, like everything else, only ever went up. She glanced back up at Jhetam. His face was crestfallen. “You won’t even try it?” He asked. She sighed in resignation. He’d probably only seen twelve summers. She hoped he’d see another twelve. She could smile for his sake. Scooping up a large moutful, she smiled as she chewed. “It’s really great, thank you Jhetam.” He nodded solemnly; the grin he’d worn moments before, had vanished. Vitri didn’t know what else to say, so she gamely shoved another spoonful into her mouth to appease him. “There.” she mumbled around the food. “Your gambling prowess will have me fattened up in no time.” He’d taken to worrying about whether she ate. Understandably so, she supposed. The thin were either sick or already dying. The thin couldn’t weather another winter. The thin would leave him.
She needed to get this done. It was worth fifty silvers. It would cover the rent for months. It would mean a new blanket for cold nights, it meant fixing the floorboard where the gods cursed rats got in. “Any new slips?” She asked him hopefully. He shook his head silently. She suppressed another sigh. “Not to worry, we’ll be living like kings once I get this one done.” She smiled brightly, waving him off with her spoon. “Go on, go see those new caps at Aida’s, one of them will be yours soon.” She waited for the door to close behind him before she picked up her mortar and pestle with determined hands.
The problem lay with the iron. She’d figured out that much. It has taken countless attempts, a cracked alembic and more gas than she had cared to spend, but she was close. If only the iron would stick. The rent was due in three days. There would be no reprieve this time. Morgrim would take payment in bone and Vitri wasn’t prepared to part with any of her toes just yet. The request box had remained ominously empty and she could read the sad regret in Jhetam’s eyes each day he came to report to her. Vitri stirred the mixture slowly with a well practiced wrist swirl, careful not to spill any. There was no coin left for new ingredients. This time, it had to work. “Hope…” Grandmother whispered. “Just Hope.” Vitri gritted her teeth and took slow deep breaths supressing the urge to throw something again. She knew what had to be done. She needed to add the hair of the client and then the iron to seal the bond. Problem was, each time she did, the mixture blew up in her face. “Too complex.” Grandmother muttered. “I know.” Vitri retorted sharply. “One cannot charge fifty silver for something simple.” Vitri sat back in her chair, rubbing her aching back. The client had been specific. A love potion. That part was simple enough. Vitri had made them by the bucketful in the past. This client however, wanted not love but obsession. Not need but craving. Vitri found the request that the potion induce the inability to walk the light of day with another, particularly abhorrent. Things started to look a lot less horrible in the face of ruin however. She would do what needed to be done. Fifty silver could take them to the ocean. They could eat seasnails baked straight in the shell, sip on mango juice pressed right before their eyes. Vitri had heard of these things but had never had the means to go. “Just Hope.” Grandmother whispered as if she could hear her thoughts. This time Vitri froze. Surely she didn’t mean… Vitriena Hope Valecinder. She hated that middle name. Had all but forgotten it even existed. Yet there it was. A possibility. Hope.
Vitri hesitated. Her hand would have trembled if she was not known to have the steadiest hands in all of Kalimor. It was just one drop. The customer was some highborn lord or lady. They would never meet and even if they did, the potion would be long consumed or destabilised by then. There was no danger here. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest anyway. She needed the iron and it was right there. Inside her blood, already perfectly imbued. Everyone knew that blood contained minuscule amounts of iron. She could practically hear it rushing along with her blood. This would work. It had to. Still Vitri didn’t move. She should use the customer’s blood. Even as she considered it, she knew there was no way a noble would give of their blood to some back alley potionist. She was out of time anyway. The compounds would not remain active for long without the binder. She would not even consider using Jhetam. The mere thought made her stomach churn. Animals - too unpredictable. The potion sputtered in demand. She swore quietly. Now or never. She tossed the sprig of dark hair into the churning liquid. She had only seconds to provide the drop of blood the seething potion wanted. She pricked her finger with her dagger and allowed a single ruby droplet to join the nearly black lock inside the potion. Vitri held her breath. The thick, tarry potion blew out a huff of steam and sagged inward. Slowly, a deep purple blossomed at its centre, spreading its purple tendrils, till the entirety of the mixture turned a shimmering shade of periwinkle. Vitri whooped loudly. For the first time ever she felt like a Hope.
Vitri caught her reflection just as she finished cleaning the last of her equipment. She looked terrible. Her normally messy braid no longer deserved to be called a braid. Dark, sleepless shadows ringed her eyes - but she was smiling anyway. They’d go to the bath house soon, use real towels and they’d get that green cap. She would get a whole bag of apples - the big ones.
A soft knock sounded at the door. She leapt from her seat, her fatigue forgotten. “You’re knocking now? Come on in already! Let me see our treasure.” She called to Jhetam. The broken floorboard creaked in warning as the figure stepped into the room pushing open the door. Decidedly nót Jhetam. Vitri fumbled for her dagger but found her hip bare. She looked around wildly and saw it glinting mockingly from her work bench.
“Hello, Vitriena.” Her head whipped back to figure. No. It couldn’t be. Her grandmother hissed and Vitri knew; it was him. She’d know that gravelly tone anywhere, she’d explored the slope of those shoulders on countless nights, kissed those full lips till the sun rose.
Raze held up a coinpurse and a slow smile spread across his handsome features. His steely gaze held her captive, calm, appraising. A hunter reading its prey. Vitri stumbled back against the bench, unable to look away. She tried to grasp at the dagger behind her blindly. “You…you should be dead.” Vitri stammered hoarsely, as if saying the words could make them true. Raze’s smile widened but she noticed it never reached his eyes. Cold, hard and brutal eyes she no longer recognised but also thought to never see again. Her chest ached for it. Raze arched one eyebrow. “Strange. As I feel very much alive.” Vitri shook her head, as if denying it would help her cause. “I saw the lifelight leave your eyes.” He was advancing towards her slowly but her words seemed to give him pause. “When you left, maybe it did.” For a moment, a flicker of pain seemed to distort his smile, but it was gone in an instant. All of her old anger and hurt bubbled back to the surface and Vitri tasted bile. “You chose! You chose them!” She shouted at Raze accusingly. He shook is head stoically. “I took the only option that was left to me. To us.” Vitri’s fingers finally closed around the dagger. “There is no US, Raze. You betrayed everything we were.” He wasn’t wearing armour, which meant she had a chance. “I made a deal Vi.” He continued to speak soothingly. “You will understand when you see, when we get there.” He was wearing leather boots where as she was barefoot. She needed to be light and fast. One chance. Keep him talking. Vitri’s head spun and her mouth had gone dry. “Where is Jhetam?” Raze tilted his head, momentarily puzzled. “Oh, the boy. Safe. But he won’t remain so, the lengths he will go to for apples are…concerning.” Vitri had to clutch at her workbench to keep herself from flying at his beautiful face. Not yet.
Raze gestured around her tiny home. “Is this really the life you want Vi? Barely scraping by, working for mere silvers? You could be a queen. My queen.” Vitri snorted. “Sure, I only have to sell my soul.” Raze’s shoulders sagged as he looked away and for the briefest instant he looked almost vulnerable. Now. The time to act was now but she couldn’t move. Not while he wore that look like it was pain. He lifted his grey eyes to hers and they were cold and calculating once more. “I knew it would hurt. So I sought to make this easier for you.” Vitri’s eyes darted to Raze’s other hand as he lifted the familiar flask. “I call it Hope.” He said flatly. Fear closed its icy fingers around Vitri’s neck. She flung the dagger at the flask in desperation. Raze batted the missile aside effortlessly. He tutted with what sounded like real disappointment. “You still have the same tell, Vi. How am I to keep you alive?” He held up the potion again, answering his own question. “This. This is how.” Vitri gave a brittle laugh. “It doesn’t work that way, Raze. The subject has to be prepared. Weeks of ingesting your blood would be needed and that potion will barely hold till morning.” She expected him to lose his temper then, but he smiled patiently. “Haven’t you Vi? For the price of apples, I know exactly how you like your gruel.” Vitri felt the world tilt beneath her. It was too much. His betrayal, his plotting, happening all over again. She braced for impact as her knees gave way. Somewhere coins clattered to the floor. Strong arms wrapped around her back as Raze caught her. Vitri barely noticed the small prick in her shoulder. “I’ve got you Vi. Now and for eternity.” He opened her slack lips softly. Her limbs felt like lead but survival made her swallow instead of drown as he tilted the potion into her mouth. In the corner her grandmother started to scream.
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