Thank you to @elishnord, @woundedsoul12, and @notyourmamasdeerbat for the tags!
As foretold, I did manage to get some work done on Memory Braid! I'm not quite done with the chapter, but getting very close.
Knitting had never held as much appeal to Illario as it had for Lucanis. His cousin had managed to take an exercise meant to keep idle hands in motion and actually turn it into a creative exercise. He didn't shower his family in his homespun creations, but there was at least one rather ornate scarf in Illario's closet that he would never wear, but could not bring himself to get rid of.
After sitting through several years of this, Illario found he could follow Emmrich's explanation of what needed to happen well enough, even if magic itself was still a mysterious territory.
"So we need to re-connect the strands?" Carina asked, flipping through the notes the necromancer had presented her with.
"Yes, and more," Emmrich nodded. "As I mentioned, simply severing the false memories is not enough. We need to thread the correct memories back in place, as much as possible. You have both done some of that already, but there are places where the yarn has been pulled loose, has not been tinked out of place so it can be remade."
"Tinked?" Carina furrowed her brow.
"Undoing your stitches," Illario replied, moving to sit next to her, as surprised as she was that he knew the answer. "How is that different from before? From what Carina and I had to do?"
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Where we all pretend that the number of sentences that are shared bear any relation to the tag game title.
A bit of a snippet from the next chapter of Memory Braid:
"Lucanis and Rook entered the city together after they arrived, but we lost track of them just outside of the casino," the Venatori replied, and this time Carina recognized the set of the shoulders. She had last seen them covered in blood, face down in the mud of the Chantry courtyard in Treviso. Lucanis had kicked him off of his rapier after stabbing him neatly through the heart. "Several of our agents near Cafe Pietra were killed. We do not have confirmation of either of them appearing there or at any of our monitored locations later on."
"Of course you don't," Illario sighed and put the glass down, straightening himself in the chair. "They're Crows, and though it pains me to say, some of the best we have to offer. I am sure that whatever they were up to will become apparent soon enough. Post extra watchers on the Diamond tonight. I would like to be informed if my cousin and his pet de Riva make any surprise appearances near any of our assets."
Thank you so much to @woundedsoul12, @the-font-bandit and @jukkaricity for the tags!
Still working away at the next chapter of Memory Braid, and Illario is remembering things he never meant to forget.
"Mierda," Illario swore, pinching his nose as a jolt of pain shot through his temple. He could see him so clearly. He and Nyrallys had barely made it out of the Orlesian embassy in one piece after a guard had gotten lucky as they made their exit. The job was a success, but Teia had been pissed about the bill for Nyrallys's healing afterwards, and took some of it out of Illario's part of the contract. He hadn't minded, but Caterina had let him know in no uncertain terms that another failure like this on a contract would not be acceptable.
"Illario? Are you—"
"I'm fine," he waved his hands at Carina, who had moved closer. He pointed to the fracture. "I just… remembered. He broke his arm keeping me from falling onto a sharp fence. I only remembered that Caterina was unhappy with how sloppy my work had been, even though I completed the contract. Now I know why. I remember why."
Please comment on this post or DM me to be added removed at any time! Tags are always no pressure, check this fun thing out, with no expectation of response ❤️
Thankyou so much to @juniper-and-dragonthorn, @woundedsoul12, @tkwritesdumbassassins, @ladyofcrowsandcoffee for the WIP tags, and @hyperions-light for hosting the WIP Wednesday/Thursday!
Also thank you to @hedwigoprah for A Word With Friends, @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for hosting this week, and the tags from @notyourmamasdeerbat and @elishnord
This week’s word is:
Lassitude
(n) A state of physical or mental weariness; lack of energy. Lethargy
We are back in it with a snippet from Memory Braid, as Rook and Emmrich try to help Illario untangle the mess that blood magic has made of his memories.
Illario woke abruptly with the taste of blood and dust in his mouth, keeping himself still with only the most rigid control. He blinked furiously, expecting another dream, but finding a warmly lit room of polished mahogany and books instead. As his eyes slowly refocused, he could hear Carina swearing next to him as she pinched her nose and Emmrich fussed around her.
"It's fine, I promise. I wasn't expecting us to get dumped out of the spell so fast," Carina pushed Emmrich's hand lightly away, and looked back at him. She looked as exhausted as he had ever seen her, with a small trickle of blood under her nose. "Illario, you good?"
"No, but I will probably recover," he answered, taking Emmrich's assistance to sit up, lassitude and pain pulling at his limbs to remain lying down. He felt as if he had been in a fight with several people with bad aim and large sticks.
"Glad to hear it," Emmrich said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to have cut the connection, but the magic was becoming quite.. volatile as it unraveled. We can try again shortly, but I felt it would be prudent to step back for a moment."
Carina nodded, dabbing a handkerchief at her nose.
"What was that last thing you said? Before everything faded out?" Illario asked. The whole thing felt unreal, but the pieces he had been missing were slowly filling in and becoming more solid. Like a sketch being rendered into a painting as he watched, it became so obvious that what he knew of the last couple of years had been a distorted, blurry reflection of reality.
"Emmrich, this may be an odd request, but do you still have access to the effects and remains we brought out of the Ossuary?" Carina asked, carefully wiping at her nose which was bleeding slightly.
"Yes, of course," Emmrich answered as he handed Illario a cup of tea, the steam scented with a mix of ginger and something astringent Illario couldn't quite place. "Those we have not yet identified are resting in a small crypt not too far into the Necropolis itself. Is there something or someone specific you are looking for?"
"Nyrys," Illario responded before Carina could speak, an acid taste at the back of his mouth. "You found them, didn't you?"
Please comment on this post or DM me to be added removed at any time! Tags are always no pressure, check this fun thing out, with no expectation of response ❤️
From the poll, fourth of the five-way tie, the next bit of Memory Braid, where Illario starts to realize exactly how much has been stolen from him. Continuing from this post and this one.
Illario and Lucanis are returning to Treviso directly after The Wigmaker Job.
Illario shrugged as he felt the pull of the memory shift slightly.
On the ship's deck, he scanned the skyline of Treviso as their boat approached the dock favored by the Crows when they didn't want everyone knowing that they were back in town. A blood-haze he was beginning to recognize covered the area where they began to tie up, obscuring a lone figure standing next to some stacked crates.
"Who is that? They look familiar," Rook leaned stood next to Illario, taking the place that Lucanis would have held again, but like the person below, it was difficult to see and hear her around the iron stench that followed her in his memory.
"I… don't know," a lance of pain seared through Illario's eyes, causing him to flinch and back away from the railing. "It's all missing."
"Well, that's where we need to be then. Get moving, Dellamorte," Rook stepped out of his cousin's place, and tugged him lightly out of his own. It was odd to see himself in shadow, but the feeling was soon eclipsed by pain an nausea as they moved down the gangway and directly into the fog. Rook waved her hand, and some of the fog dispersed, bringing the figure into focus.
"Illario, you feckless ass," a tall Qunari man laughed, sleek and lean in Crow's leathers. A beautiful set of rapiers were strapped to either side of his relatively subdued armor, but it was more than compensated for by the onyx and sapphires set into his horns, curling back from his head in an elegant sweep. "I had no idea you were going to Tevinter. I would have had you pick me up some spices for my tea."
"Nyrallys!" Illario found himself laughing with genuine amusement. "Go to Tevinter for the food? And for tea? Maker forbid I would commit such a culinary sin against his beneficence."
"You are such a liar," the man laughed, and clapped Illario on the back familiarly, and they both laughed. The edges of the mist around them held something hot and bitter, like standing too close to a fire burning rashvine nettle. Illario started coughing convulsively, pulling out of his place in the memory that didn't feel like his own.
Tagging folks who replied on the poll or who asked for a tag @babydinosaur930, @jukkaricity, @davrinsleftpectoral, @aetherflowers, @himluv, @serialsforbellara, @introvertedfangrl, @sorrygoldfish and @serensama
This chapter is now about 2/3 done, so I'm really glad for the prompt to get back to it!
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Thank you @woundedsoul12, @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai and @notyourmamasdeerbat for the tags!
It's only barely Wednesday here, and I mostly took the day off, but I do have some more of the next chapter of Memory Braid to share.
Illario.. was not where he should have been.
"When did you visit Minrathous?" Rook asked before she could stop herself, but Illario kept walking as if he hadn't heard her question. There was a good chance he hadn't. She could tell she was occupying another shadow's shape, but it clearly wasn't Lucanis this time. The bloody stench of the memory was not exactly fading, but as she got used to it, she could pick out other smells. Wood smoke, leather, and a hint of… salt.
This must be how Spite sees us sometimes.
It reminded her of the dock in Treviso.
Ah. Nyrallys.
The qunari must have been following Illario, and it looked like that was planned. They both moved silently, but they were too close to be unaware of where the other was as they moved through the city. Ducking through streets, around alleys, and over garden walls, Rook was astonished to find them finish at a rather spectacular mansion at the top of one of the larger islands in the city.
It was lavish in the way of Tevinter mages, with a little to much gold and not enough constraint. New work clashed with older, more established architecture, all underpinned with a conspicuous use of magic. Floating lights illuminated gilded eaves, platforms with hanging plants cascaded water from nowhere, and parts of the garden landscape floated in timed movements that felt designed to disorient the viewer, not provide respite and tranquility.
A confusion of sound, smells and flashing light and dark pulled Rook by her center, and she found the memory shifted abruptly. The fog was so thick in this room, that all of the figures were outlined in the sickly red of blood half-dried. With an effort, Rook pulled herself out of the place of the qunari prone on the floor, and stood back to look around as best she could.
"How kind of you to come all of this way to visit me at my home," a woman's rich voice called down from a golden chair, elevated on a dais at the center of the room. She wore a gown of black crepe in the style favored by the Minrathous elite, nearly as dark as her luxurious long hair. Draped fabric with a deep neckline and no sleeves, cinched around the middle with a wide gold belt in the shape of a dragon eating its tail, wrapped loosely around by several other smaller belts festooned with gold and jewels. Her hungry gaze was fixed on Illario, standing between two guards at the foot of the stairs below her.
Rook would have recognized her anywhere, a thin line of rage threading itself through her vision as she clenched her teeth.
Zara Renata.
I'm sure that's not going to have terrible, unalterable personal consequences for Illario.
It's late enough that I'm only throwing out a few tags for folks who might be interested (with no pressure as always!) @serensama, @davrinsleftpectoral, @jukkaricity, @blackwall-my-tiny-husband, @aetherflowers
Summary: Half of a year after the Evanuris are slain, Carina "Rook" de Riva suspects that Illario may have some lingering problems with blood magic. Together with Emmrich, they attempt to help Illario regain or reclaim memories distorted or stolen from him by Zara Renata.
Tags: Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Gaslighting, Memory Alteration, Minor Rookanis
Chapter 2: Illario and Rook travel further into his memories to see just how twisted by blood magic they had become and find more than either of them bargained for.
Read below or on AO3 (3.4K Words)
Walking through Treviso to the docks was a strange experience for Carina. She hadn't been able to visit the city before it had been occupied by the Antaam, so her impressions were all colored by how she found it afterwards. In Illario's memory, she could see a lot of what he and Lucanis must have loved about the place. The edges of her vision were still blurred and hazy, but as they pushed further, the details of the people and places he and his cousin had interacted with became clearer.
The market was lively and crowded, the walls decorated with fabrics, painting and sculpture in a tumult of color and shade. Without the barricades blocking the way, corridors opened up, and street artists and philosophers occupied the corners and byways. Views of the canals peeked through interior spaces, and she found herself pausing to stop and admire the view. More than once, the shade of Lucanis loitered with her, faded and indistinct, with a haze of blood magic projecting a different self stalking impatiently ahead.
After the first interaction in the market, the rest of them had been shaded and altered to reinforce the original slight. Some of the changes were as obvious as the first, where statements were replaced by something far more negative or hurtful. Others were a lot more subtle, with countless shifts in tone, posture, which left an impression of Lucanis that Carina had to admit was less than flattering.
"I can't believe she changed all of this," Illario scoffed, his face hard. He had been getting increasingly surly as they progressed, and now that they were nearly to the docks, he had pulled up short as the blood-shade of Lucanis moved ahead to the harbor master's office. His actual ghost stopped to admire the moonlight on the water.
"She didn't," Carina shrugged. "At least not all at once. Every time you thought about this night, it pulled a little tighter, doing what we do with our memories anyway."
"How so?" Illario asked pulling his gaze away from his cousin.
"You said it earlier. We all remember things differently. The magic just makes sure it twists in the right direction," Carina said, pointing to Lucanis. "Something about this memory needed you to think of him as impatient with you, or in a hurry to leave, so every time you thought back on it, the magic made sure that something about that memory matched."
"You're saying that Zara didn't need to change everything, just to do what? Get me to remember one thing wrong?"
"Not exactly. She needed you to believe something, so that you'd behave like she wanted, but think it was your own idea. I think if we figure out what she wanted, we might be able to pull out those threads."
"Is that what worked for you?" Illario asked, giving Carina a piercing stare that felt desperate and challenging at the same time.
"Mine was more…" Carina paused, swallowing hard. "Yes, if I'm honest. I had to understand and accept that my friend had died, months ago, and every memory of him after that was wrong. It was either Solas talking to me, my own mind filling in what he would have said, or some twisted combination. It didn't feel good."
"Even if my cousin wasn't being an ass that night, I'd decided on this a while ago," Illario said bitterly, giving Carina a self-mocking smile. The fog at the edge of their vision began to creep in closer as the memory started to fade. "I can't wait to see how that wasn't my idea at all."
_______________________________________________
His mouth felt dry as the world fogged over and then washed in again with the sounds of the ocean. Creeping bile at the back of his throat competed with a tongue made of cotton as the worst thing happening in the moment behind a violent pounding in his skull. Illario didn't have vivid memories of most of his hangovers, but this one was special.
"You look like shit, cousin," Lucanis said smugly from nearby.
Illario gingerly propped one eye open, seeing the dizzying, but now fuzzy outline of Lucanis, leaned up against the wall of the ship. His image swayed back and forth until Illario realized he was the one moving, and toppled inelegantly out of the hammock in a tangled heap. He suppressed the urge to vomit violently, and instead rolled onto his back to breathe slowly through his nose.
The shade of Lucanis shifted out of his eyesight, barely detectable footfalls as he left Illario to his fate.
A corked bottle rolled to Illario's right hand, and he caught it out of instinct, lifting it to look with bleary eyes.
"If you can choke it down, I promise it will help," pent up laughter curled around the edges of his cousin's voice, and shifting his eyes, he could see the barest smile fighting to escape. Behind it was Carina, standing in his place as she had in the other memory.
Illario sat up, fighting against the memory of nausea, pulling out of himself to stand in a shaky mess with his hand on the sloped wall of the cabin. The memory of him shook his head, winced, and gingerly uncorked the bottle. The smell of healing herbs washed into the hold as his shade took a swig, grimaced, and took another one. A heartbeat went by before he belched loudly, color returning to his cheeks.
"See? It's helping, yes? I got that off the healer this morning." Lucanis walked to the door. "Give it a few then join us on deck. The captain said we might see some yellow razor fish chasing the ship if the weather is right. They look like dragons in flight, so I am told."
Lucanis left me to stew in my own sick all morning, as if he wouldn't have been hungover if Illario hadn't spent the night helping the healer make sure that all of his cousin's organs stayed on the inside. All Lucanis did was go on about those damn fish after I finally felt good enough to go on deck.
"This is wrong somehow, isn't it?"
"I.. believed he'd left me to rot in my hangover," Illario looked at Carina. "Why would that matter? I still helped him."
"What else about this memory could be important?"
"It was right after the job in Vyrantium that got him that stupid name," Illario shrugged. "And it was the worst hangover of my life, all for helping him stay alive afterwards."
"OK, not much."
"No, wait," Illario shook his head and looked back at his false self, lying on the ground, and the real him, getting cleaned up and dressed. "This is when I decided I had to do something. Even something terrible. I didn't know what, but I remember looking into that shitty little mirror and promising myself that things had to change."
"Except you didn't," Carina stepped forward and put a hand lightly on Illario's shoulder. "You got dressed, went upstairs and probably saw some cool ass fish with your cousin."
Illario shrugged as he felt the pull of the memory shift slightly.
On the ship's deck, he scanned the skyline of Treviso as their boat approached the dock favored by the Crows when they didn't want everyone knowing that they were back in town right after a job. A blood-haze he was beginning to recognize covered the area where they began to tie up, obscuring a lone figure standing next to some stacked crates.
"Who is that? They look familiar," Carina leaned stood next to Illario, taking the place that Lucanis would have held again, but like the person below, it was difficult to see and hear her around the iron stench that followed her in his memory.
"I… don't know," a lance of pain seared through Illario's eyes, causing him to flinch and back away from the railing. "It's all missing."
"Well, that's where we need to be then. Get moving, Dellamorte," Carina stepped out of his cousin's place, and tugged him lightly out of his own. It was odd to see himself in shadow, but the feeling was soon eclipsed by pain and nausea as they moved down the gangway and directly into the fog. Carina waved her hand, and some of the fog dispersed, bringing the figure into focus.
"Illario, you feckless ass," a tall Qunari man laughed, sleek and lean in Crow's leathers. A beautiful set of rapiers were strapped to either side of his relatively subdued armor, but it was more than compensated for by the onyx and sapphires set into his horns, curling back from his head in an elegant sweep. "I had no idea you were going to Tevinter. I would have had you pick me up some spices for my tea."
"Nyrallys!" Illario found himself laughing with genuine amusement. "Go to Tevinter for the food? And for tea? Maker forbid I would commit such a culinary sin against his beneficence."
"You are such a liar," the man laughed, and clapped Illario on the back familiarly, and they both laughed. The edges of the mist around them held something hot and bitter, like standing too close to a fire burning rashvine nettle. Illario started coughing convulsively, pulling out of his place in the memory that didn't feel like his own.
"As usual, you are right," Illario's true shade tossed a small bundle from his pack to the man and laughed. Illario couldn't remember laughing that easily in years, if at all, but it looked as natural as breathing. Something he was clearly having trouble with at the moment "I made sure to liberate some of the better spices from the kitchens as we made our escape from Vyrantium. I'm pretty sure this was meant for the enjoyment of some Magister."
"Well, the ones that are still alive won't have time to enjoy it," Nyrallys grinned. "Not while they're busy locking their doors and interrogating their servants out of sheer terror. You hear what they're calling your cousin? The First Talon is going to flip her lid when you two get home."
"Well, that's something to look forward to," Illario's past shook his head and shrugged. "I can't wait to find out. It will be a nice, ugly little surprise for our homecoming."
"He's Cantori, isn't he? Were you friends?" Carina leaned down to look at Illario, more than the simple questions dancing across her face. The pain in his head pushed aside every attempt to organize his thoughts around what she wasn't asking, pressing down and strangling any effort.
"I. Don't. Know." he finally choked out, falling to his knees and grabbing his head, a familiar litany of curses against Zara Renata playing like an operatic refrain in his mind. He could feel Carina's hand on his shoulder as he started to scream in rage and pain, the fog pressing in again like the weight of a collapsed building.
_______________________________________________
As Illario hit the ground, the air around them swirled into pitch black, and then the fog returned. A haze of red and brown, reeking of damp metal and rot. Carina put a hand to her mouth to avoid retching, keeping the other on Illario's shoulder. After a moment he calmed and then slowly stood in a kind of stupor. He wasn't seeing her, but as far as she could tell, he wasn't seeing anything else in the dim light. As he started walking, she hung back, keeping one fingertip at his shoulder blade.
They walked for a little bit, Illario's steps becoming more assured but also softer until they both walked in complete silence. Walls and streets solidified out of the air, and Carina began to recognize some of the architecture. Tevinter. No, Minrathous. The few buildings she recognized from High Town were in a condition that told her it was well before she or the Evanuris had set foot in the city.
"When did you visit Minrathous?" Carina asked before she could stop herself, but Illario kept walking as if he hadn't heard her question. There was a good chance he hadn't. She could tell she was occupying another shadow's shape, but it clearly wasn't Lucanis this time. The bloody stench of the memory was not exactly fading, but as she got used to it, she could pick out other smells. Wood smoke, leather, and a hint of… salt.
This must be how Spite sees us sometimes.
It reminded her of the dock in Treviso.
Ah. Nyrallys. The Cantori Crow.
The qunari must have been following Illario, and it looked like that was planned. They both moved silently, but they were too close to be unaware of where the other was as they moved through the city. Ducking through streets, around alleys, and over garden walls with ease, Carina was astonished to find them finish at a rather spectacular mansion at the top of one of the larger islands in the city.
It was lavish in the way of Tevinter mages, with a little to much gold and not enough constraint. New work clashed with older, more established architecture, all underpinned with a conspicuous use of magic. Floating lights illuminated gilded eaves, platforms with hanging plants cascaded water from nowhere, and parts of the garden landscape floated in timed movements that felt designed to disorient the viewer, not provide respite and tranquility.
A confusion of sound, smells and flashing light and dark pulled Carina by her center, and she found the memory shifted abruptly as she found herself face down on the marble floor of a large room. The fog was so thick in here that all of the figures were outlined in the sickly red-brown of half-dried blood. With an effort, Carina pulled herself out of the place of the qunari prone on the floor, and stood back to look around as best she could.
"How kind of you to come all of this way to visit me at my home,"a woman's rich voice called down from a golden chair, elevated on a dais at the center of the room. She wore a gown of black crepe in the style favored by the Minrathous elite, nearly as dark as her luxurious long hair. Draped fabric with a deep neckline and no sleeves, cinched around the middle with a wide gold belt in the shape of a dragon eating its tail, wrapped loosely around by several other smaller belts festooned with gold and jewels. Her hungry gaze was fixed on Illario, standing between two guards at the foot of the stairs below her.
Carina would have recognized her anywhere, a thin line of rage threading itself through her vision as she clenched her teeth.
Zara Renata.
"It is, of course, unforgivable of me to drop by uninvited, Magister Renata," Illario executed a neat bow. From Carina's perspective it was like watching someone stuck in one of Neve's time slowing traps. Two of him, occupying the same space, bowed in nearly the same motion, one of them with a hitch and delay, but arriving at the same position as he leaned upright. "But one can beg forgiveness when vying to catch a glimpse of beauty as rare and storied as your own."
"And your handsome companion?" Zara leaned forward, a smile curving up one side of her face, but ending in something far more sinister in her eyes. "Is he also here to kneel at my feet and beg my favor? Or is he your keeper? I was not aware a Master Assassin such as you needed minding, Illario Dellamorte."
Illario's shadow self and he abruptly separated when his memory was forced to the ground as magic lashed forward without warning from Zara's hand. The guards had clearly been expecting the attack and had already clamped his shoulders by the time his knees hit the ground, holding the Crow firmly in place. Illario's solid form reeled backwards with an audible snap, as a cord of red threads anchoring him to the floor snapped abruptly with a wet tearing sound.
"Maker's balls!" Illario swore as he staggered, coming to a stop as Carina's hand met the small of his back and steadied his balance. "That unholy bitch! I was just—"
Stopping suddenly, he whirled to look at the prone form laying on the ground. As Illario's attention focused on the qunari, Carina could hear the conversation with Zara continuing in more muffled tones, and then watched in wonder as it split again. One shadow of Illario passed out on the floor, another never knelt at all, but instead approached the throne to kiss her hand. This last version was the clearest, outlined in crimson and pulsing with unmistakable blood magic. This Illario had never existed anywhere but his mind.
"I failed you, friend," Carina turned back to see Illario crouch down to stare at the quickly fading face of Nyrallys. As she watched, two shadowy figures appeared to lift and drag the qunari away, leaving them alone in the room with only Zara holding court from her throne for the fiction of Illario's past.
"What do you remember about him?" Carina scanned Illario's face as he stood with his hands on his hips. Lips thinned, eyes pinched shut, with anger and pain distorting the rest of his features. "Or do you remember anything? It looked like she cut him out of your life entirely."
"It's … confusing," Illario opened his eyes and the beginnings of tears stood there, but anger left them nowhere to go. "I know Nyrallys was my friend. Nyrys to his closest. We gambled, flirted, did a few contracts together, gave Teia hell. He was from Seheron, and then ended up in one of the slave markets. The Cantori don't buy their fledglings, but when he ran into a Crow on a contract, he followed them out to freedom. He was one of the only friends I've ever had that wasn't my cousin."
"Why did you come here? To Zara's house?" the question still hung in the air from earlier, but now tinged with some additional acid around the edges. In the background, Illario's shade was conversing with Zara about what would become of his ambitions when Lucanis was dead. How the Venatori would clear out the Antaam at his command.
"I was going to kill Zara Renata," Illario barked a laugh with no humor. "Nyrys tried to talk me out of it, but I was so sure that if I planned it just right, I could slip in, charm my way into her bed, and knife her before the night was through. It was, frankly, a terrible idea borne of a stupid, desperate ambition. I don't know what I expected to happen."
"Did you have a contract?" Carina asked pointedly.
"Not exactly," Illario saw Carina's expression and sighed. "Caterina had made it known that anyone who could infiltrate the witch's estate and live to bring back information would be handsomely rewarded. Lucanis said it was a fools errand, but I saw it differently. If I got in and out, she would be angry, but could not deny the accomplishment."
"Why ask for permission?"
"Yes, that is the Ferelden phrase, is it not? Why ask for permission, when forgiveness will do?" Illario finally turned to look at himself in the distance. "I know it is false, but I remember this night so clearly. The wine she served. Her insistence that she didn't care for Tevinter or Antivan politics in the slightest. The perfect offer. Kill my cousin, hand me my birthright, and all for the price of flattering an old woman who killed a few dozen slaves a fortnight to keep her youth and beauty. I could kill her any time I liked."
"That is—."
"Absolutely ridiculous. Maker knows, I've asked myself how I could possibly trust her," Illario spat angrily, waving a hand to dismiss the two ghosts in the distance. "I couldn't. And I was too stupid and alone to know it. And for that, Lucanis was taken and only Andraste knows what happened to Nyrys."
"Your friend," Carina started, not sure what to say. "Would you recognize their handwriting if you saw it?"
"Yes, why?" Illario asked sharply. Around them, the memory started to close in, as it had before, moving them elsewhere. The choking blood taste was giving way to something more like smoke and mold, the underside of bridges and wet timber.
"Because I think I know what happened to them," Carina sighed, closing her eyes as she remembered something she'd almost forgotten herself and the light faded. "He ended up in the Ossuary, just like Lucanis."
Divider by cursedcandlehop.
Tagging @serensama - I did actually get this out before the end of Friday!
Got a lot of stuff out the door, or ready to go, so dipping in for this! Thank you so much @woundedsoul12 for the tag!
Picking up a bit more of the next chapter for Memory Braid, as Carina and Emmrich help Illario sort out his blood magic problem.
His mouth felt dry as the world fogged over and then washed in again with the sounds of the ocean. Creeping bile at the back of his throat competed with a tongue made of cotton as the worst thing happening in the moment behind a violent pounding in his skull. Illario didn't have vivid memories of most of his hangovers, but this one was special.
"You look like shit, cousin," Lucanis said smugly from nearby.
Illario gingerly propped one eye open, seeing the dizzying, but now fuzzy outline of Lucanis, leaned up against the wall of the ship. His image swayed back and forth until Illario realized he was the one moving, and toppled inelegantly out of the hammock in a tangled heap. He suppressed the urge to vomit violently, and instead rolled onto his back to breathe slowly through his nose.
Sending out hella late tags to @strugglinggranola, @jukkaricity, @the-font-bandit, and @caughtnyact if you've got anything to hand, but 100% no pressure there ❤️
