When in Doubt, Go to the Library
25th of Frost, Year 391 of the Age of Sundering
To most people watching, it would look like she was meditating. For the past three hours, the siltori had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed. Her long black hair swayed lightly as she rolled her head, trying to ease out the tension. Her short-sleeved shirt showed off the intricate silvery markings flowing down her arms, their glow fluctuating with her aether - one might even make out the patterns under the thin fabric.
But Veriel wasn’t really. On her left hand, the siltori was holding a sinister-looking dagger - its blade black and in its center sat a bloody pearl that seemed to beat in time with its owner’s heart. It was Dolorex, her morbus domicillius, where most of her curses were stored. Meanwhile, her right hand was busy tracing odd patterns and symbols on her thigh, indiscernible except to her. She couldn’t explain why, but the gesture helped her as she worked.
The young woman always visualized her afflictions as fine, spiderweb strings. The easiest hexes would not need much manipulation from her for it usually held a singular effect - paralysis, pain, blindness, whatever it was - and all she needed to do was feed it aether so that it would extend out of her being and latch unto her target.
What she was doing right then was weaving her afflictions together. The strings twisted and twirled inside of her, joining and becoming one. One of her favorites she had simply dubbed as her thousand-cuts curse. It was pretty straightforward. She took the string that would cause a laceration and amplified it, lacing it with pain and the seeds of infection. This time she gave it blood-thinning properties - so the wounds would keep bleeding. It was good that she had a chance for this. While she could do it mid-battle when pressed, the ones she concocted beforehand were often more devastating.
There were times when she did not have the chance to prepare, but she was lucky this time. Their team would set out in two days to find whatever this tree with a beating heart and golden veins. Ryo and Nasyra were hopeful that they could find the answers before they even left the island, while Veriel and Thaddeus believed it would be easier once they got there - perhaps even ask the locals. Also, the phrase had been gnawing at her brain. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite recall where she had heard it.
The sound of someone clearing her throat broke Veriel’s concentration. Reluctantly, she opened her as she tucked her jinx into Dolorex, letting her aether flow into the dagger. Nasyra stood over her with her hands on her hips, green eyes blazing with annoyance. “Are you seriously going to spend your entire day like that? Don’t you feel the slightest bit of guilt watching work hard going through these scrolls?” To drive in her point, the half-dratori waved her hand at the new pile of documents she probably carried in just now. She then plopped down on the floor in front of her, fidgeting with the hem of her brown dress.
“I never said that I’d help you,” Veriel pointed out innocently, looking up with a smile. “You’re the one who interrupted my weaving and dragged me to accompany you here. I think you specifically said that all you need is a company because you’re getting bored.”
The pair had claimed a study room in the library and made themselves comfortable on the wooden floor. Nasyra was convinced that she could figure out what the cultist was talking about, carrying in more and more until a dozen towers of books surrounded them.
Veriel never had much patience for reading so she had opted instead to seek answers on the various maps of Ecith. Unfortunately, even after hours of combing through old drawings and faded texts that made her squint, she still found nothing helpful. In the end, she decided that she could at least do something more useful, like prepping the curses for their trip.
Nasyra looked almost offended by her statement. “We’ve been best friends for years! How can you not know that was entirely bullshit? I need you to suffer with me.”
The young siltori laughed. Admittedly, she did figure out that’s what Nasyra had wanted. “Then maybe you should have asked Ryo to come. He would have loved to go through all this.”
“And suffer the awkwardness between you two? No thank you,” Nasyra declared matter-of-factly. She suddenly pointed at the elf with a scroll in her hand. “You’ve been weird. Actually, both you and Ryo have been weird.”
Veriel paused in surprise before rolling her eyes. She wondered what part of her mannerism had given it away. “You’re imagining things. There’s nothing going on.” However, she was curious about what her friend had meant by Ryo also being weird. He didn’t seem all that different to her.
Nasyra scoffed, looking like she had half the mind to slap her with an ancient scroll. “It’s been years! When are you going to stop tiptoeing around him and finally say how you feel?”
“Never,” Veriel declared plainly. Her folded legs had started to go numb so she stretched it out slowly in front of her, feeling the blood rush through her veins. “Aren’t you the one who warned me from day one not to get involved with him?”
The green-eyed woman blinked. “You still remember that? You must’ve really liked him to remember something like that.
Veriel shrugged. “How can I not remember? It was a very weird thing to hear from someone you just knew.” She pressed her lips together, looking out the window as the skies turned red with the setting sun. “You were right though.”
Nasyra inched closer, her eyes softening. “What is it? Spit it out.”
The siltori sighed. “Do we really need to talk about this?”
“Yes, yes we do. I need to know how uncomfortable our trip will be.”