NOVEL SIMPLE New Defensive Measures
Even with all the traps disarmed, I still feel far from safe within this laboratory. Xothan gives me the impression that if he had a chance of getting away with it, he really would pluck the eyes right from my socket, all in the name of advancing his wicked sciences. His continual gazes tell me that much, very loudly. I'm not overly threatened, though. Whether it's fear of Opalina or retribution from Duke Gloomcrest, the Mage is kept in check and cannot enact his scholarly impulses upon me. Besides, I've seen similar stares from Zutiria before. At least she's nicer about it.
"Is it ready?" Opalina asks as she struts around the lab, inspecting Xothan's specimens and ingredients like she was perusing a common grocery store. Whenever she finds something particularly interesting, she takes the jar and stuffs it into her magical bra without even asking.
"It is," The elderly wizard grumbles. "However, I won't be handing it over unless you cease stealing from my inventory! This has gone on for long enough, and I won't be having it any further!"
"Take it up with your boss," The uncaring woman gifts Xothan with a sarcastic smile, all while stuffing a pot of jellied salamander tails into her sweater with the rest of her many pieces of sorcerous loot.
"Xothan Xolius has no boss!" He raises his voice and his staff, dark energy swirling about him. "He only has the pursuit of knowledge and the people he does favors for in exchange for funding!"
Before his mood worsens and he decides not to help me out, I try and calm things between them by pulling my attention. "Thank you for agreeing to help my Guild, Xothan. I understand that you've crafted a defensive seal?"
I learn very quickly that this Court Mage cannot be placated. "I have, through no choice of my own..." Xothan goes off to a nearby work desk where many opened scrolls are sprawled about, each one written in languages I don't recognize and presenting ideas and diagrams I have no means of deciphering.
"Why, of course, you had a choice, my old friend..." Opalina smiles and joins us at his desk, her hands on her hips as she looks down at the elder. "Just as I have the choice to submit an anonymous tip to the Council of Archsages regarding what keeps happening to all of your research assistants."
"They should have read the contract if they didn't want me to-" Xothan snaps back at her, slamming his staff to the ground with strength that belies his age. After realizing the position he's in, Xothan relents and grumbles something about submitting an anonymous tip of his own. It doesn't seem to bother her, despite the severity of his threat.
"Regardless of why you did it, I want to thank you," I say as my last attempt to reason with him like he were an average person.
"You can thank me by giving me back the six hours it took me to make the damn thing," Xothan then gasps, mockingly, "Oh, wait... you can't, can you, you little shit? That's right! All that time that could have been spent on research to better the Realm and improve my-"
"Non-existent," Opalina cuts in, predicting his next word and adding one of her own before it.
"Fame!" After her teasing sinks in, the elderly wizard grows red in the face with anger.
"You've been Court Mage for about seven hundred years, you silly man, and the only time you've ever accomplished something of note was when you were forced by Osbourne to be MY assistant."
"I was a crucial part of ending the plague, damn it!" Xothan insists with all of his barely contained furies.
Opalina is quick to sigh. Something tells me they've had this discussion a million times and that the man is never going to drop it. "Yes, someone had to fact check my notes... but it really could have been anyone. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
This is getting to be a bit much.
"Look, putting aside the revelation that you had a hand in curing the Rotblight, I get the feeling I'm sort of in the way here, so... maybe I can just go...?" I casually point to the exit as the growing tensions start to wear on me. "I'd definitely rather be talking to Abigail than standing around watching the two of you bicker back and forth."
Unknowingly, I just stumbled onto another sour topic for the Mage. Upon hearing the young Lady's name, he grows even further embittered. "Ah, yes. The Lady of the house seems fond of you... hmph. How nice. Say, did you know that it's the job of a Court Mage to tutor any promising nobles of his household in magic? Yet another duty this hussy stole from me."
"Keep it up, and I'll steal your life, too." She rolls her eyes, yet Xothan takes this threat gravely and reflexively clenches his staff in case he needs to defend himself. "Just wait a moment, Dear. This won't take long."
Albeit with great reluctance, Xothan digs out a large scroll buried beneath all his other scrolls. Drawn onto it is a large diagram of a magic circle, wrought with layers upon layers of ancient writings depicting forgotten incantations. Applying it is pretty easy, I'm told. All I have to do is place the scroll against a wall in the Guild somewhere and think about protecting the building. Then, the magic circle will leave the scroll and transfer onto the wall.
Opalina reiterates that this seal is not infallible, but it should keep out most people with ill intentions from entering the Guild or sneaking in. This is much better than investing in some new windows and more Dwarven doors, that's for sure. Nikita proved how useless doors like that really are when she broke in by attacking the building, anyway.
I am more than ready to get out of here. I take the scroll after the good Doctor checks it multiple times over for traps. She finds nothing, but I'm happy to let her take the correct precautions. I don't trust this man as far as I can throw him. Before leaving, Xothan offers me a cup of coffee which I politely decline. He looks visibly annoyed, giving me ample reason to feel justified in not taking the drink likely laced with something or other.
Opalina and I head toward the door, but the old man draws my attention once again before leaving. "Boy," He says. "Those glasses of yours... those are the solution your grandfather arrived at, I take it?" Xothan asks.
"Yes," I confirm while reflexively adjusting my glasses. "I know it was long ago, but thank you for meeting with him."
"Hmph." Xothan throws the crystal ball in his hand up into orbit, and another of the orbs floats down to replace it. Inside of the glass sphere springs an image of my grandfather from over twenty years ago, captured from the point of view of the Court Mage himself. I watch, filled with nostalgia, as the wrinkly old drunkard tears into Xothan, slinging insults and demands at him, all in the name of curing my eyesight. "Crude, as is so often the case of Dwarven manufacture, but I suppose that's all that bastard could get out of anyone given the way he acted..."
Crude? These glasses are worth a fortune. Then again, his dismissive attitude is obviously fueled by pettiness. Xothan clearly wishes he could have gotten a chance to study my eye troubles when I was a child, but given how my grandfather is currently using his cane to beat him over the head in the crystal ball, it's plain to see that their meeting didn't turn out that well. Grandfather always was able to see through everyone's bullshit, so he probably made a note of Xothan's less than helpful intentions from a mile away.
"That's enough of this," Opalina shakes her head and opens the brass doors. She looks over her shoulder, and I catch her making a sadistic expression in his direction- like she was laughing at him through her eyes. "It was nice seeing you, but I truly hope I don't have to visit again any time soon, my old friend. Oh, and that little hypothesis of yours you were working on in that red scroll? You might want to recheck it and use a seven-pointed star in the diagram and not a five-pointed one. It'll strengthen the spell while costing less mana."
Xothan's face goes white as he rifles through the myriad scrolls on the desk, looking desperately for the one in question. He scribbles a few notes on top using a corrective quill with crimson ink when he finds it. Once he sees that Opalina's prediction was correct and that the answer which escaped his grasp was solved so quickly, his face reddens from burgeoning anger. Xothan opens his mouth to speak words of rage, but Opalina shuts the door behind us and hurries me along down the dungeon hallway, far away from the suspicious man's dangerous laboratory.
"So," I clear my throat and look up at my ever-so mysterious lover. "You cured the Rotblight plague twenty years ago. That's cool, I suppose."
She shrugs. "I didn't want to make a big deal of it at the time, even to you. My work on the cure was kept secret. Publicly, Xothan received the credit for it."
"I see how that might cause him some stress, then. Still. You're getting gratuitous with your secrets."
"Rest assured, my love, because I think the same. I promise I'll finally answer most of the questions you could possibly have about me later tonight, Dear, but..." In spite of her continuous strength, I watch Opalina's expression waver with distress. "It's not like I haven't told you because I enjoy keeping secrets for the sake of it. I know it might seem like it sometimes, but it's not the case."
"I appreciate it. Look, Opal... I don't want to sit here accusing you of things... only a fool would look at everything you've done for me and think you have anything but my best intentions at heart. It's just... starting to be a bit much."
The older woman sighs and nods her head as she leans against the nearest wall. "I was planning on telling you most of the details while we were here, anyway. I knew that bringing you to Dawnstead would raise many questions about my past, but I'm finally ready to let you in and explain myself. Most of it, anyway..."
"Still planning on hiding yet another secret surrogate child from me, I take it?"
Opalina laughs a warm, playful laugh. "No," She smiles softly. "I'm only saying that thinking back on my past hurts, and I'm... unreasonably concerned it might change the way you think about me. Ah, well. One way to find out, isn't that right?"
I want to tell her that it's alright and that she doesn't need to worry, but I want those answers. Instead, I merely nod my head back at the witch and ask what her plans for the rest of the day are. Opalina is determined to get some more shopping done while we're in the city. After dealing with Gloomcrest and Xothan back to back, it's a wonder her mood isn't completely shattered as it is. This makes a considerable amount of time for me to talk with Abigail since the witch is certain she won't be back until sundown.
Suits me just fine. I need to talk with the young Lady anyway, especially after all that happened with her father.
Art by Slimii
