An Accord of Darkness (Rommelisch)

[Hera]

Hera watched with open curiosity as Rommelisch practiced his voodoo.

"Does Valten know you do this stuff?" she asked, supposing he did. Maybe they could put a hex on him, and Helghast too. Wouldnt that be fun. It would have to involve Crestmere to some degree. Make them all bark like dogs or something. But her mind was wandering, perhaps she was bleeding more than she realised. Hera refocused on the runes Zedrich was drawing, recognising some of them.

"I know those signs" she said, leaning forward. "I had an amulet with similar markings." Rommelisch snuffed a short laugh. They were, in fact, exactly the ones of Hera's amulet, he knew.

"Where did you learn these markings?" she asked, pressing her shirt cuff against her bleeding palm to stop the bleed.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

"None of your business, fairest of the fair. But if I were to tell you, in truth, it'd be something I learned about... well, so far back that I'd rather not tell you out of shame. I'm afraid I'm quite ancient, and my knowledge is doubly so. But a man by the name of Agriel was kind enough to impart these images to the young boy I had been at the time. Now hush, I'm almost done..."

Zedrich's eye sight wasn't nearly as good as he would have preferred but he didn't need his eyes to summon up these images from his murky subconcious. They were flawless, as flawless as blood could be scratched into a mat.

"Shyr Sharaes Jhori Saer si Ser lalael..."

[Hera]

Obediently, she hushed, but it seemed to her the old man was the one doing the majority of the talking.

She watched his fingers move with the awkward stiffness of age and found the movement oddly mesmerising.


Trying to catch the words he was saying, Hera leaned further forward, her brow furrowing at her lack of success. They were unfamiliar.


"Rommelisch, What language are you speaking?" she whispered, not wanting to interupt him, but curiosity getting the better of her. He didn't reply for a moment and Hera guessed, incorrectly, that he had not heard.

"Rommelisch?" she prompted again in a whisper, and leaned closer still, straining to comprehend.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Making a neat circle of runes and markings on the pad with what blood he had to work with, Zedrich determined he was well enough finished with that part and attempted to gently place the bloody shard in the middle of the circle but in turn clumsily did so, given the inherent lack of dexterity of his archaic joints. The crystal bounced slightly until stopping but as soon as it rested, the air filled itself with the smell of burnt flesh, not pungent but almost aromatic to those in tune with these kind of things.

It brought back dusty memories for Zedrich which in turn only helped him focus further; the fact that Hera might have one time existed was far away from how Zedrich now saw his surroundings. He might as well have been sitting in the circles so familiar of his former brethren, six in all with the blood of the seventh and uninitiated resting in the middle.

This was the ceremony in which the Mages used to... suggest the promise of power in the uninitiated. Agriel had told Rommelisch that it was a... what had he said... "push in the right direction."

The pink crystal shard now resonated a violent purple color and the blood had long dried, scarred remnants of organic ash only remained. With Zedrich's eyes closed, he reached down towards it.

He was brought out of his trance sharply as the air crackled and the shard spat violent energy between itself and the tips of his fingers. Rommelisch fell backwards, legitimately caught off guard at first, but his haggard gasp of air quickly turned into a rasping laughter.

"It truly has been some time, hasn't it?"

And he had done it all by himself to boot. Hera came back into his realm of awareness and Zedrich changed focus from the crystal which was now a dull purple, the smell gone as well as if a breeze had taken it away, to Hera.

"Well, my dear, what did you think of that? Nothing like a pocket full of fireworks to brighten the day up, eh?"

[Hera]

Well it was nice to see the old guy gettin his hair blown back, but Hera felt little personal excitement at Zedrich's achievement. It meant little to her that she could see.

"Yeah, thats real nice Rommelisch, but apart from it being very prettty to watch, I dont see what you accomplished."

In other words, Hera did not see any impact in it for her, except that her blood had been a type of conduit or spark effect.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

His frown was in disappointment at the girl's response. All of that and she still didn't smile.

"A sultry little brat aren't you?

He did not dare touch the crystal himself just yet and did not feel inclined to speak further to Hera until he had settled himself again, setting this or that straight and finally sitting back down. He sighed, the glimmer in his yellow eyes a bit duller. Ah, he was getting old... This simple act had drained him quite well and his mirth with it. Zedrich knew it was her acquired ignorance for the Force and her frustration therein but he now had less patience for Hera than he was willing to share, maybe later if so inclined.

"Pick the blasted thing up then. And make your way out, woman. I've not the time to bother with drawn out explanations other than that is what you would call an 'augmentation', and very personal at that. It will augment even the barest thread of the Force from your useless husk. Now out, out with you..."

Zedrich pushed himself up slowly on his small staff and moved forward to usher the woman away, giving her only a brief moment to pick the crystal up and be on her way.

[Hera]

Hera did as she was bid. The aged often took the liberty of being cantakerous whenever the mood chose, and one such moment had descended on Rommelisch with a vigor. He had become grouchy and illhumored in an instant and Hera determined it in her own self-interest to just leave him to it.

She plucked up the crystal, its center was still hot to the touch, and tucked it into her pocket where it sat heavily against her hip.

"You probably need a nap" she offered, intending, in her own inept way, for the remark to be helpful but Zedrich groused something unintelligible at her and Hera knew she'd outstayed her welcome.

Slipping from the old Mage's apartments she patted the crystal in her pocket and made her way back to her own lodgings within the Citadel. Momentarily, IMP was hoving a short distance behind her and, to all outward appearances, the status quo of her life as an Inquisitoriate prisoner resumed.