#nirael ic

Anirus had been surprised to see the former, but after regaling woeful tales of betrayal and abandonment by her lusus and friends, they were glad she chose to return.

Nirael came and went as he pleased, somehow managing to find the ship when he so desired. He paid them well with each visit and caused little trouble apart from ruffling some feathers with his flippant demeanor.

This time, he seemed in low spirits, barely acting like his haughty self and spending more time away below deck in the cargo hold. Though, as per usual, he badgered Anirus for work or did whatever unattended jobs he could find.

With the calm seas came downtime, and most of the crew was loafing about, doing some odd tasks to occupy them.

One troll sat on the railing with a fishing rod. As far as Anirus had seen, he'd caught precisely nothing, which wasn't much of a surprise.

Anirus watched as something tugged hard on the rod. The crewmember pulled back, resituating himself for better stability on the railing… And then pulled up his line, baitless and fishless.

Anirus smiled faintly to themselves as the troll probably muttered a curse- They were across the ship, unable to hear- And went to re-bait his hook.

Then they caught a flash in the moonlight, on the other side of the ship. They glanced, but saw nothing.

And then with no further warning, the sea roiled around the ship. A massive scaled serpent breached the surface, long coils winding around the vessel and ensnaring it. Anirus narrowly avoided getting crushed by one such coil, watching in dismay as the beast tightened its grip and cracked the wood of the deck and hull.

"Attack! We're under attack!" Bellowed Anirus, turning their head to find one of the serpent's coils blocked their path to their quarters, where their weapons lay. The crew had already begun to move, dodging the serpent and fumbling for weapons with which to jab the beast with.

Anirus willed up their psionics, but knew that it would take far too long to summon up a bolt of lightning or anything strong enough to drive off the serpent. The sky was clear, and in these conditions it would take at least an hour to whip up a storm, even with all the water around them.

"Oh, I see." They heard a calm voice from below, and watched Nirael step out from the cargo hold. Nirael looked up to Anirus, and smiled. "Save your psionics, Captain, we'll need you in good sorts, won't we?"

With that, Nirael reached out and lay a hand on one of the serpent's coils blocking his path. Anirus wasn't quite sure what happened- Psionics of some sort that Nirael never mentioned, not that they knew fuchsias could even have psionics- But there was a flicker like lightning, and a massive chunk of the serpent exploded.

No, it didn't explode, not exactly- There was some gore, some viscera, but it was reduced to a fine mist.

The serpent shrieked and pulled away, too tangled in the ship to recoil and instead jerking the entire vessel along like a toy.

The beast lunged for Nirael, quickly pinpointing him as the cause of its distress- The other crew members barely seemed to have pierced its hide, thick and slick with algae.

Nirael deflected the blow with a single strike of his palm and then grabbed the beast's lower jaw, its teeth so large he barely had to mind where he put his hands.

He planted one foot on the serpent's jaw and kept the entire creature pinned with apparently no effort, Anirus watching as the massive creature writhed uselessly under Nirael's grip.

Nirael extended a hand. There was a pulse in the air, like a giant heartbeat of the universe itself. The beast froze. A second pulse, and then the serpent was unmade.

That was the best way Anirus could describe what happened. They watched as its skin split along its spine and disintegrated, followed rapidly by layers of tissue and muscle, and by the time the bones were reached by this wave of destruction, the beast was gone, rendered into mist. The mist drifted away on the wind and disappeared, and the ship rocked for a moment as it righted itself.

All was still and calm just as it had been minutes before. Nirael straightened and dusted off his palms. "Well, let me see if I can do something about those leaks."

"Oi!" Heil barked, darting forward. He snagged Nirael by the collar, and Anirus tried to comprehend why the violetblood looked so furious. "What the hell was that?!"

"Just some extreme measures," Nirael brushed Heil off, walking towards the railing. "We're taking on water, so that should take precedence here, no?"

"You- There's no way you're—"

Heil cut off as Nirael jumped overboard. Anirus realized they were gripping the railing tight enough that their knuckles showed white, and relaxed. "Heil, he saved us. I don't think we should look a gift horse in the mouth." Anirus said levelly, trying to process what just happened themselves.

"It's not that- He's- By the stars, there's no way it's him." Heil just stared at the spot Nirael vanished at, some mixture of horror and disbelief on his face.

"Heil?"

Anirus picked their way carefully down the broken steps to the main deck as Heil shook himself. "Nevermind. It's nothing, Captain."

Anirus patted his shoulder wearily. "Let's just focus on assessing the damage, and thank the heavens for our stroke of luck."

After a pause, the front door opens to reveal the tall bronzeblood, wearing a puzzled expression. “... Cataclysm? What on-”

Nirael lashed out to grab Astirn by the collar, yanking him nearly off his feet to bridge what short distance was between them. “I ought to hack your head off your shoulders now, but I’ll give you the chance to explain yourself.” He snarled, his eye tinted red with rage. His magic was depleted entirely, gone over the weeks of his travel- But he could still make someone suffer if he needed to.

“-Explain what!” Astirn huffed, regaining his footing. “You’re the one out here demanding my attention, what the hell did I do?” He could tell something was off, glancing at Nirael, but couldn’t determine what yet.

“My wife’s been ill. And my magic–” Nirael hissed, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Did you think I’d be helpless without it? You’re the only troll who could slip past my defenses and do thi–” An involuntary shudder ran through Nirael’s body as his breath fled his lungs, his eyes widening. The sword slipped from his grasp and dropped into the sand. 

Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. Astirn had moved to try and escape to make his next argument- apparently, unnecessary. 

Shocked by the suddenness of this all, Astirn catches his breath and then refocuses. Without much thought to it, he stoops down to lift Nirael’s torso from under his arms, dragging him inside of the hive.

But as he starts descending the stairs in the hallway, Astirn begins considering everything said. He had no idea why Nirael was so furious- or didn’t, until now, he guesses. It made sense- Nirael’s soul had disconnected entirely from his now-dead body, bound to the enchantment in his bones. A hidden spell only Astirn would be aware of with his abilities, apart from Nirael himself- and the conclusion that Astirn had been the one to do something to it was an obvious one. 

If incorrect.

Moving aside a small table, Astirn then lays Nirael down in the center of the room. Nothing appeared physically wrong, apart from fatigue- but that could be anything. What bothered him the most was the fact that Astirn couldn’t sense an ounce of the destructive energy Nirael usually had, wreathing him like smoke. It was as if he were entirely mundane. 

The thought of Cataclysm being mundane in any sense made him scoff as he continued to look Nirael over. Astirn could tell, finally, something else was present in the body. An unusual energy- not quite biological, but not fully magical either. It was certainly nothing arcane- and it was eating away at Nirael’s bones.

Astirn didn’t dare to meddle with it yet, not with the very little he knew. But he still needed to speak with the troll that had been coming for his throat. 

Setting himself down on the floor as well, Astirn exhales- closing his eyes and reaching out his hand to put on Nirael’s chest. With a moment of focus, Astirn guards himself and extends a part of his own soul to meet Nirael’s- envisioning a space to stand in.

In this place, Nirael’s spirit had already manifested, sitting in the darkness with one hand over his face. He watched Astirn through the gaps in his fingers, a wariness like a cornered animal in his eye.

“First off,” Astirn began. “I’d like to clarify that I just want to talk.” He shifted somewhat, still wary from earlier, himself.

“Do what you like, Soulsmith.” Nirael narrowed his eye, his anger smoldering into exhausted defeat. “Gods know, I can do nothing to stop you.”

“I’m not going to do anything, you’ve got enough going on already with whatever the hell’s… infected you.” Astirn sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I get where you’re coming from but this is not my doing. What even happened?”

“I don’t know. That it was somehow you was the only remotely logical conclusion I could come to.” Nirael’s hand slid from his face and dropped in his lap as he stared at some point on the ground in front of him. “...You said I was infected?”

Astirn nods. “The best word to describe it that I could think of. I’m not sure what exactly it is. Not like any normal disease, that’s for certain. Almost like… hm.”

Nirael sat frozen, his eye wide as Astirn speculated. “Tosiol- She fell ill after she drank my blood.” He leaned forward, planting a hand in front of him, defeat turning to desperation. “That was weeks ago! Get out of here- Please. Go to her.”

Nirael shifted to kneel, lowering his head to the ground. “Please! I know I have no right to ask after I threatened your life-”

“-Listen, for a moment here-” Taken aback, Astirn raises his hands in front of him. “... This is.. conjecture, but I have reason to believe she’ll be fine, with time. This.. disease, appears to have consumed your mana, but done nothing else as far I can tell. She’s no mage herself, is she?”

Nirael had raised his head. “No. Not in the least.” He straightened back into a kneel, deep worry still painting his face. 

“Then at worst, she’ll be hungry and out of it. But you? This energy is trying to eat away at your bones.”

Nirael set his jaw. “I’m aware.” He said warily, looking at his spectral hand. “I can feel it. I don’t expect I have much longer.”

Astirn sets his hands down, raising an eyebrow. “If nothing’s done about it. But I suspect something could.”

He then looks away, clearly thinking. “I need a second opinion- and set of hands, more than likely. My matesprit would know what to do.”

“...Before you go, then– I’m sorry. I have too many enemies to go making more out of my allies.” Nirael dipped his head again, in apology. “Anything you ask, it’s yours, if you can fix this.”

Astirn turns away to leave, giving Nirael a parting remark.