(As always, text enclosed in /text/ is italicized.)
Candles in the Dark
by Hallan Mirayas
December 707
Alexastra slipped into Drift's rooms without a sound and eased the door shut
behind her. "Drift? Are you here?" she called, careful not to be too loud.
It was very late, and he might be- A strange sound drew her attention to a new
door, just past the cold and unlit forge, one that hadn't been there the last
time she had visited. She checked his bedroom first and, seeing that he wasn't
there, quietly opened the new door. "Honey?"
She found Drift passed out, slumped over a desk full of drawings. He did
not sleep easy, but whimpered and moaned as if in the grip of a vicious
nightmare. That was the sound that had drawn her attention, and by all rights
she should have been pleased. It meant that her plan was working, to build the
stress and strain on her mark until the critical moment came to break him and
send him after Linafex, ending that man's contract with her master.
It should have pleased her, upon his return from the aedra's mission, that
Edward had promptly started working himself to exhaustion and that he took to
avoiding sleep as much as possible. It should have pleased her that, at the
merest touch on his shoulder, he would wake with a scream of terror. It should
have pleased her that he was so close to the breaking point.
It didn't. Kneeling down and cradling him against her as he sobbed into the
night, Alexastra wept with him… and she didn't precisely know why.
That incident had happened nearly two months ago, and Drift had slowly
recovered his mental balance after long talks with Misha and that Hough boy.
Her own indecision, however, had only grown stronger with the passage of time.
She had played her part as comforter and confidante as much as the fox and the
priest had, but when she'd been given the opportunity to turn up the pressure
on him again afterward… she'd hesitated. She'd put it off for 'later'. What
pleased her instead was seeing his smile come slowly back, seeing him pick up
Whirlwind and practice with it after avoiding going anywhere near it for almost
three full weeks, seeing him sleep the whole night through again.
Thus it didn't come as much of a surprise to her when Lord Agemnos summoned
her to his throne room. He had taken the guise of a Midlands lord this time,
dressed in sharply tailored black, with long brown hair pulled back in a
ponytail and a precisely trimmed goatee that he stroked thoughtfully while he
spoke.
"Alexastra, my dear, it is always a pleasure watching your plans come to
fruition: a perfect snare, without a single thread out of place." He leaned
forward. "But even my patience has limits. As much as you enjoy your latest
toy, he is going to have to be broken sooner or later. Personally, I would
prefer sooner, for Linafex grows tiresome with his complaints. Still…" He
paused and leaned back in his chair, carefully leaving only the merest hint of
irritation in his voice. "I know you like to craft your traps at your own
pace. I won't tell you to hurry up… yet." His brown eyes narrowed. "Don't
make me regret my generosity."
"You won't, my lord," said the raven-haired woman kneeling before his
throne. "Upon my oath to you I promise that, before the month is over, I will
bring this matter to a profitable conclusion."
-----
It had been a week since her lord's veiled ultimatum, and Drift and she had
been busy. He had been busy getting ready for Yule… and she had been busy
subtly twisting the knife. A carefully placed word here, a disguised action
there, and his nightmares started coming back again. On top of that, she added
strategic praise of his work around town to bring many new requests for
tinsmithing in time for the Yule celebration. As expected, Drift reacted to
both by channeling his stress into long working hours through nonstop days and
sleepless nights. She worked alongside him, feigning weariness and then
pushing through it whenever he wanted to stop for her sake.
It worked like a charm. "Drift, when was the last time you slept? You look
like death warmed over!" Alexis heard Wolfram's shocked exclamation through a
closed door from an entire room away and carefully hid a smile. Yes, this was
coming along nicely. Now for another turn of the screw. Dropping the
paintbrush she'd been holding, the she-bat collapsed. As she fell, she
purposely bumped against the wood and fabric construction upon which she'd just
been brushing glue, knocking it off its stand with a crash that brought Drift
and Wolfram running.
The touch of Drift's strong arms as he cradled her and the fear in his voice
as he called her name clawed at her, but Alexastra crushed those reactions down
with ruthless efficiency. She had a job to do. She mustn't let herself be
distracted now. She opened her eyes slowly, wearily, and let them take their
time focusing on Drift's pretty face. "Hiya, cutie."
"Are you all right?" her handsome mark asked, his brow crinkled in that
adorably cute puppy look he got when he worried. "Please tell me you're not
hurt!"
"So dramatic!" she admonished with a smile. "You always get so dramatic
when you're tired-oof! Drift, dear… I can't breathe…" Drift loosened his hug
a little, but not much, and Alexis wrapped her arms around under his and
allowed herself a moment to just savor the feel of him. "Sorry about the
mess," she said once his arms loosened, looking over the chaos her fall had
created. "I must have passed out. I think we're -both- overtired."
"What is this?" Wolfram asked as he righted the wood-and-fabric span. Two
feet taller than he was, it was shaped roughly like an inverted triangle with
the top corners folded back. Wooden spars angled like long fingers from a
central spine, over all of which was stretched a light fabric that tried to
stick to the ram's fingers because of the thin glue Alexis had been painting on
it to seal it. The shape looked strangely familiar to the ram, and his eyes
widened when he looked from it to the she-bat and back. "Drift, you can't be
serious."
"Why not?" Drift asked, lifting Alexis to her feet and making sure she was
okay before stepping over to help Wolfram set the glider wing back onto its
stand.
"What's going to keep you from splattering across half the valley if this
thing doesn't work?"
"It will work," Drift replied, ears backed.
"That sounds nice, but it doesn't have the same reassuring ring as 'I've got
a solid escape plan, already in place and repeatedly tested'." In any other
city, Wolfram might have suggested that people weren't meant to fly or they'd
have wings. In Metamor, though… Wolfram shook his head and sighed, knowing he
wouldn't talk his friend out of it. "Will you at least have a healer waiting
close at hand? You're more entertaining in one piece."
"I've got something better than that," Drift said, appreciating the ram's
shift toward humor. Turning, he held his hands outstretched toward Alexis.
"Toss me the vest Misha brought, would you, dear?"
Alexastra knew the look in dear Edward's eye. Ever since his trip out into
the woods two months ago, he had been volatile and impulsive, even more than
normal. Now, he was overtired on top of that, and he was about to do something
crazy and foolhardy for the sake of his ego. Since he'd asked for the vest,
she could predict with near certainty what he would do… and it was exactly what
she had been waiting for.
Still, the formalities had to be observed. As she handed him the vest, she
eyed him suspiciously and asked, "What are you scheming now?"
Drift smiled and tied himself into the vest. "You just settle down and rest
for a while," he said, leaning in to steal a kiss. "I'll be back in a minute."
Alexastra twined her fingers into the vest to hold him there just a moment
longer. Just one moment. That was all she would need to ensure dear Edward's
death. Just one moment to employ two of the greatest gifts of a daedra
spymaster. A moment's push of stealth to hide a hellborn hex, a little nudge
of chaos into the vest to weaken its magic, and a final kiss goodbye. All it
would take was a moment, and her mission for her lord would be complete. One
last moment with her Drift…
She hesitated. One moment became two… and then three…
Wolfram coughed, and the awkward noise broke the moment. Drift drew back
from the kiss, his ears and nose flushed and that adorable dopey grin so wide
on his trusting face. He quipped something silly about how he must have been a
good boy to get kissed like that, and Alexastra played along out of reflex,
patting him on the head and sending the two on their merry way.
Inside, she was screaming. She paced the room in a frantic mania,
desperately trying to convince herself to chase after him, and just as
desperately trying not to. She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She
wanted… She wanted…
She wanted. And in a burst of insight as bright as the morning star, she
knew what she had to do.
She ran as if her life depended on it.
Voices screamed in her head. /Have you gone mad? Lord Agemnos will be
furious if he finds out! He'll kill you! Or he'll do something even worse,
and then/ not /kill you! This is a disaster waiting to happen!/
/Only if I let it become one/, Alexastra thought in reply… and then doubled
over in pain. The Keep, capricious as ever, had placed her path squarely
across the front steps of the Lothanasi temple. Just being near its holy
ground was agonizing, like being squeezed in a vice from every direction at
once, and she crumpled against the wall with a gasp. The truthful aura of the
temple clawed at her mask of stealth like a hungry beast, forcing her to push
all her strength into it lest it falter. If it slipped for even an instant,
the Keep would recognize her as a daedra and…
Wait… this wasn't caprice. Alexastra felt questioning eyes on her. The
accursed nymph must have intended her to pick up a healer on the way! /Damn
you, Kyia! This is not helping!/ She forced herself to keep moving through
the pain, lurching forward and feigning a massive leg cramp to excuse her
collapse. "No time. No time. Drift!"
Her desperate gamble paid off. Rounding the first corner she came to
brought her two highly welcome sensations: a cold outdoor breeze and an end to
the crushing pain of Kammoloth-blessed ground.
"Drift, are you out of your mind?! When I said well-tested, I didn't mean
jump off the fourth-highest tower in the Keep! Get down!"
That was Wolfram's voice! She still had time. "Drift! Drift, wait!
Stop!" Still maintaining the act of a cramped leg, she hobbled as fast as she
could toward the wall top, snow crunching underfoot. Drift climbed down from
the wall, his body tense with alarm, and she collapsed into his arms and held
him tight. "Please don't do it," she begged. "Please. I have a terrible
feeling about this." This close, she could feel her hex twisting the vest's
magic awry and she angrily wrenched it loose and dissipated it before it could
do more damage. She could repair the enchantment later, when she had… when she…
"Alex?" Drift asked, alarmed. "Alex, you're shaking! Are you all right?"
Alexastra burst into tears. Burying her face in his soft chest fur, she
sobbed, "No. No, I'm not."
-----
!DSPAM:4d20cce087121345131859!
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