An Apple A Day (Dhalvasha, Ihnar)

[Eridanus]

Day 66, Fall of 511 AV
Late Afternoon
Just outside the Library, Stumble Alley

Eri stepped outside the library, the weather looked cheerful enough, though the vantha did not feel particularly cheerful. He had been in the hot springs the day before with his friends and acquaintances that he gathered throughout his time in Sunberth for his farewell party, and it seemed that his mortal body was not used to the differences in temperature for he felt himself gaining a cold after that night.

He suspected it might have to do with him getting in and out of the springs due to the energetic shenanigans of his acquaintances. When he woke up the morning after, his head already felt like it was foggy and it was the obvious onset of a cold. It might not be a good idea to travel while sick, but he had to force himself to do it or he might not get to Alvadas before winter. Travelling during winter was usually a bad idea, and he did not want to do so if possible.

He was going to collect supplies and to check out news regarding any caravans leaving the city so that he could hitch a ride while acting as a caravan guard like Zenai usually did. They usually relied on the Taggers, but Eri would quote them a lower price and they would be accept, for merchants were always on the lookout to cut costs to maximize profits.

He trudged out to one of the alleys connecting the library to the rest of Sunberth outside Stumble Alley, but when he reached the middle of the narrow corridor, he found a figure blocking his path ahead, the silhouette placing a shadow that darkened the corridor. Instinctively, he turned around to find another figure blocking his exit. There was quite a certain feel of deja vu as he remembered his first day in this very place when he had been cornered by slavers. Luckily there was a helpful benshira nomad at that time, and he doubted that he would be lucky enough to receive any coincidental help.

The headache and the feeling of listlessness did not help also, and he thought that it was a really bad time to engage in any conflict. Perhaps he could try to talk his way out, though he suspected that it might not exactly work. Nothing was going right for him since he woke up, but little did the vantha know it would only get worse if he thought it was a normal random mugging.

"Who's there? If you're here to rob me just state your price," Eri called out wearily to the figure in front of him, trying his luck to see if he could negotiate a way out of this without bloodshed. He was ill, and he was really trying to avoid any rigorous activities. Not to mention that he definitely felt off-form and there was no guarantee he could get out of this in one piece.

"Not a chance, vantha. Or should I say, ethaefal?" The figure in front of him replied in a gruff baritone, and Eri looked up sharply. "Oh yes, we know who you are, Redeemer, Traitorous Leader of the Seventh Order, and it is pleasing to me that we can finally put you down like the traitorous dog you are."

The figure approached while clasping metal bands that had several wicked looking blades protruding out of it on both hands. "We could have gotten you in your sleep, without you knowing. Such is our way, which you should be quite familiar with. But the higher-ups made a special exception for you. They demand you to be destroyed while you're fully awake. Conscious as to the terror that we will unleash upon you. It is only just after all these decades."

Eri backed away from the figure, his opponent's weapon of choice clear to him. It was all too familiar, the sight of a figure with dual wrist razors. The man even wore a cowled robe, full black with his face masked leaving only his eyes visible. Eri had to remind himself that this person was not him, for he could not be possibly alive after so long. He quickly turned around to find that the person stopping his retreat had already drawn two sword-breakers. He spent a few precious seconds tapping into his djed, with a massive headache that greeted him when he felt the djed rush into his eyes, and his brief study of the blades were enough to tell him what he suspected. Cold-iron sword-breakers.

They were definitely prepared, and they definitely knew who they were facing. He blinked several times, shutting the flow of djed to his eyes and the strain reduced, yet the headache remained. It was not a good time for him when the pressure of magic combined with his cold made things so much worse. Still, it was better than being cut down and he began to run towards the library.

Eri felt somewhat light-headed, possibly due to the adrenaline rush and the weird effects his cold were causing him, and he did not bother to hide what he said, muttering the first line of an incantation that would surge djed towards his legs at the expense of his upper torso strength. The man blocking his retreat was clothed similarly to the figure in front, and he raised his sword-breakers, intent to stop Eri's approach right at the stop. The narrow alley made it easier for the first assassin to wield his weapon, which made it disadvantageous to Eri's long swords for he required more distance in order to wield them effectively. His only hope would be to try to get out of the narrow corridor to the open space where the library was if he hoped to engage in fair combat.

Of course, the sword-catcher guy was in the way, and he was the first obstacle he had to cross. Eri finished the last of his incantation, and he felt another splitting headache pulsing as djed rushed to his legs. He gritted his teeth, and recalled the meditative techniques he practised to ignore the pain, firmly placing his mind on the present objective while ignoring any other thoughts. It was fortunate that the alley had a large variety of junk and crates dumped there by the denizens of the city, and as he approached he kicked a wooden crate towards the man blocking his exit.

His augmented strength made the crate fly faster than it should, and the man barely blocked it with his blades when Eri closed the distance between them, launching into a leaping kick on the box which was still in the air that served as the barrier between the sowrd-breakers and the vantha. The assassin stumbled back, and Eri softened his landing by rolling away into the open area outside the library, drawing his cold-iron sword. It was said that cold-iron was stronger than steel, and he was quite certain that the superior material of the assassin's sword-breakers would destroy his steel long sword. No, it would be better to leave his hand free for more adaptability.

[Eridanus]

"It is no use running away, Redeemer. Voodoo wants you gone, but he did not specify the nature of your demise. There is no hurry really, we will have time for a tango," The wrist-razor wielding man drawled as he sauntered down the alley towards Eri.

Another series of memories hit the vantha, and he was much surprised. Voodoo was still alive? It could not be so, for he was only human the last time Eri heard of him. Either he had an abnormally long life, which Eri doubted for he knew that Voodoo was a leeching addict, or he somehow performed the ritual that turned him into one of the undead magi that populated Sahova. Either way, it was not a good thing for Eri and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He would stay alive for now, then worry about these other details later.

He dissipated the djed in his legs, allowing the streams to resume their normal course in his body so that he would not be disadvantaged by his lack of strength, and he stepped forward, thrusting his long sword towards the man. He evidently showed training, but it was clear that this was a rookie who was just assigned to help the main agent who was still in the alley. The agent apparently did not care for this rookie's safety, though honestly Eri was not surprised at this callousness. Such a cavalier attitude was espoused, and even celebrated, by The Organization's culture.

Eri focused on the djed streams within him while steadfastly ignoring the multitude of headaches that drawing on his djed seem to bring, and he felt a surge in strength in his upper torso, allowing him to push the offensive. He brought his blade back just before it could connect with the sword-breakers for he did not want to risk getting locked into position while the novice had another blade to hack him with, and it took all skill just to do so, feinting several times while trying to find an opening.

The novice's leg bumped into the crate that Eri kicked towards him earlier, and that split second of distraction was all he needed to quickly push forward, hacking at the assassin. The reprieve allowed the vantha to slice through a tendon in the man's forearm, and he dropped that blade in pain, allowing Eri to cut towards his neck. The man managed to bring up the sword-breaker in time, catching the long sword and twisting it, forcing Eri to release the blade if he valued his wrists. The vantha expected that move, just like expected many of the techniques these assassins used, and he stepped forward to invade the rookie's personal space, punching the man in the face. He stumbled, and Eri unleashed a flurry of powerful jabs augmented with his unnatural strength, not giving the man a chance to defend himself and keeping him disoriented. He slammed an elbow into the man's neck, hearing a crack, and he stepped back slightly to gain the space needed for him to wind up and deliver a high kick that slammed the man's head, forcing the rookie to the ground.

Eri looked around him, his hands desperately reaching for the sword-breaker that the man dropped, and he grabbed it, quickly leaping forward at the disoriented assassin and blindly slashing at him, seeing red as he created a medium laceration down the man's front. The sword-breaker was not a particularly good weapon for killing, but one could not get fussy when one's life was at stake. Eri relied on his supernatural brute strength, hacking at the man with the sword-breaker until he collapsed, and finally driving the weapon through his chest entirely, hearing a loud clang as the tip of the cold-iron collided with the hard ground below. There was a visible gap in the man's chest by the repeated hacking, and it was clear that the damage could not be caused by any ordinary person.

He heard several claps, and he found the first figure leaning against the mouth of the alleyway, his legs slightly crossed.

"I've been wanting to get rid of him for quite a while, but Voodoo wouldn't let me. Saying something about teaching the younger generation. Glad you could help me get rid of him," The agent remarked, stepping up from his relaxed position to approach the vantha, his wrist razors glinting in the light dangerously. "I see that you kept most of your old abilities, Redeemer, although honestly compared to how Voodoo described you I'd expected more."

Eri found it hard to concentrate, and he had to force his mind to consciously clear itself of the painful thoughts, pushing away the screams his nerves were sending to his brain in order to focus on the present. He grabbed his long sword on the ground, shaking it to release the sword-breaker that was entangled with it and he drew his other long sword, one leg shifting back while raising both blades in a balanced manner.

"I have no business with you, and I do not know who this 'Voodoo' or 'Redeemer' you're referring to is," Eri ventured on the slight chance that he could escape fighting.

"I am Coinsmith, Redeemer," The man replied, and he saw the look of shock that crossed Eri's face before the vantha resumed his stony expression. "Yes I see you remember. Voodoo told me the story of how you betrayed Coinsmith. I know it all. It is most fitting that his newest apprentice would be named as such, so let that be the last word on your mind before you meet Lhex."

Coinsmith lunged towards Eri, and the vantha stepped aside, responding with his blades. He did not feel as strong as he should be, and somehow his flux was betraying him, the djed streams slipping back to its normal course as his body rebelled against the thought of inviting more debilitating headaches whenever he invoked djed. He tried to call out the streams of djed, forcing it to return to his upper torso, but it was like fighting against a powerful current. The streams were redirected upwards for as much as his fatigued mind could handle before being rushed back to its normal course. His body seemed to be in war against his mind, and he had no doubt it was somehow due to this illness.

Eri cursed his luck, and he assaulted the assassin, the man meeting his blades with his razors. He used the razors like it was but an extension of his body, the long swords almost but never actually hitting his body, always deflecting the blades at the very last moment.

"Oh yes I do know your fighting style, Redeemer. I had a little... refresher on that before coming to get you. Come, keep dancing and give me a challenge," Coinsmith laughed, and Eri could see his mocking eyes glinting wickedly in the light, and if there was no mask on the man's face the vantha was sure there would be a smirk on his face.

[Eridanus]

A plan began to form in Eri's mind, and the crafty vantha began to lessen his blows, but still giving the man enough pressure to not press the offensive. At the same time, he began to focus on his djed, but instead of redirecting it he aimed to expel it from his body, and it seemed to work. He felt himself weakening gradually, but he felt something light brush his right palms that were clenched around his blade's handle and he knew that he was getting somewhere.

Coinsmith seemed content enough to deal with the blows, almost lazily deflecting them while studying the vantha interestingly. Eri leaped back and forth, swatting at the man with the superior reach afforded by his blades to keep the distance between them, stepping forward or leaping backwards to maintain the distance if necessary. He had to distract the man enough to not let him suspect what was happening, and half a chime of this macabre dance continued, of two men engaged in mortal combat.

His blows were weakening, and the assassin could detect it, mocking the vantha, "Why, getting tired so quickly, Redeemer? Voodoo informed me that your combat proficiency was legendary in the field. Getting old, are we?"

While the man was speaking, Eri finally extruded enough Res from his body and he focused on allowing it to flow to the top of his hand so that his could continue grabbing his sword. It was difficult, but the meditation that he paid so much attention to helped his mind to focus itself to the task, ignoring the gradually heavier onsets of migraine while multi-tasking between reimancy and swordplay. Eri finally decided it was time, and when the man finished mocking him he took a deep breath and leaped forward in a burst of energy, transmuting the gaseous res above his palm into fire as he thrust the sword wielded by that same arm towards the assassin, a flash of cold-iron together with a fireball about two-thirds the size of an adult head greeting the agent.

Coinsmith was surprised by the thrust and sudden increase in energy, but his reflexes and training allowed him to protect himself from that move. However, he was even more surprised by the fireball which promptly blasted him straight in the face, and he swore, cursing wildly as he tried to regain his vision which was temporarily blinded by the magical attack. Eri quickly stepped to the side, using his blades to amputate the arm wielding the wrist-blade closest to him and he strafed the man further, driving his other blade in between his shoulder blades.

The doomed agent tried to spin around wildly, but was locked in place by Eri's blade which was through his back, and he swung his remaining arm wildly behind in the hopes of catching the vantha. Eri narrowly dodged that poorly aimed attack, though his fatigue slowed him down enough that Coinsmith was able to land a glancing blow, a shallow laceration on the his upper chest closer to his shoulder.

Eri quickly drove the sword deeper, running the entire length of the long sword before kicking the man off his blade, causing the mortally injured assassin to stumble forward onto the ground, turning around as his arm supported him on the ground.

"Voodoo did not tell -" He began, and Eri advanced, cutting him off, "I know Voodoo better than you, fake Coinsmith. And all the times I've been with him the team under him always had the highest mortality rates. That's the reason they refused to let him lead the Last team, and that's how I ended up with the position instead. That's the truth compared to whatever lies Voodoo was feeding you. Mull over that on your way to Lhex," Eri rasped, closing the distance between them and swinging his blade, cleanly decapitating the agent, the fire-blinded eyes white and still charred staring into blank space as the head thudded several times before colliding into a nearby wall and staying still.

Eri breathed heavily, his ordeal over, but he felt a burning sensation in the light wound caused by the man. He stumbled forward, dropping into a kneel and it was all he took to prevent himself from just keeling over and losing consciousness. He fumbled through the man's robes, and when his fingers touched the cold glass of a tiny vial in one of his pockets, he knew that he had been poisoned.

There was nothing much he could do really, and he was not even sure if it was his imagination when he saw another figure enter the place, surveying the area and then taking a look at him as he felt his strength leaving him, and he finally collapsed next to the body, losing consciousness from the toll his sickness - worsened by the repeated use of djed, but postponed by his mind tricks - and the poison that was spreading throughout his body.

OOC :

Mild cold/flu that is worsened by the rigorous physical activity combined with the repeated use of djed. Will develop into moderate cold/flu with onset of fever. Also poisoned with CoronaA lemon-colored syrup with a floral scent made from the aged arteries of a giant spider. L1 Skill to create. Effects caused through injury. Causes mild strength loss increasing to moderate loss over the course of six hours.

[Dhalvasha]

Life was the unexpected tapestry of occurrence, stretched out before each set of eyes like a mismatched guideline. Every reaction, meeting, point of possible 'fate' could easily be the tyrant chaos of random happenstance. Did anything happen for a reason? To those who required order, perhaps it did. The misfortunes of one day and the luck of another could be linked to astral coordinates, the inherent value of a garment, perhaps even the capricious attentions of a god or goddess.

People grasped at meaning.

So it was when Dhalvasha stumbled on the body of a decapitated man and the still breathing form of Eridanus in the sunbaked alleys of Sunberth, he had a choice to make. Had he been gifted this occurrence by some higher power? Could it be that some unconcious resonance of soul called his expertise?

No, more than likely it was an assassination successful or unsuccessful. The vial he found at the corners of Eri's fingertips, still in the pocket of the headless man seemed to point to something more purposeful than a random act of violence. Dhalvasha took the vial and sniffed it, smelling familiar influence but ultimately needing more than simple heresy to go on. His choices were easy. Leave the man or take him...he had no exceptional equipment on him, but the horns on his head were clear enough indication that this particular creature was one Dhalvasha had little experience in dealing with.

Ah the God-fallen, the precious little suns and daughters of star and sunlight. He brushed a claw along the horns, drawing it away and sighing. He couldn't leave the lad, he had a fever and a few wounds darkening his clothes with blood.

In this helplessness, Dhalvasha saw...if but briefly, his son. Left in the sun of Cyphrus he was an orphan...expecting some horse-father to watch him as he grew. The moment the connection was made, Dhalvasha's hand was forced. Not one to dwell on sympathies, he no less could not leave the man in good conscience. He justified the action to some distant hope at reward, that the creature would have some secret or talent to share with him at the end of all this.

More than likely not...Sunberth had a habit of producing selfish hearted monsters.

Much like himself.

But he tried not to think of it.

He looted what he could off the decapitated man, quickly hooking both arms underneath Eri's shoulders and dragging him through the alley toward the Doctor's office. Luckily, Dhalvasha had sequestered a room to perform his own surgeries and experiments in...so he would not be bothered. With great effort the Symenestra lifted the unconscious creature onto the operating table and removed the vial again from his pocket. Setting it down near his workstation, Dhalvasha pulled the poison kit from the corner including his notes, noting the coloration of the venom and its likely application. It was injected in a wound so it was not to target the stomach or throat. It burned a cool orange when heated and treated with other chemicals...owing a biological origin. Venom then.

It was some time before Dhalvasha connected the fever to another illness rather than any effect of the venom, a distinction which quickly led him to the discovery of the substance. Aged spider venom, likely from Kalea. Although he had never seen a spider like that before, he was familiar with the venom. Unfortunately, the only solution was time.

Taking a cool rag and placing it on Eri's head, the doctor cleaned his wounds and searched his body for signs of other tampering. He had scars, sure, but nothing drastic. Bandaging the envenomed wound, Dhalvasha left briefly to visit a local tavern and purchase hot chicken-based broth soup.

He returned with it in hand, placing it on the table beside where Eridanus lay prone and sighing, dropping to a chair and pressing his claws against his forehead. This was foolish. Free medical treatment? He hadn't even taken it upon himself to remove the mans weapons!

Taking that knowledge in hand, the doctor did just that, making sure that if the man were to awaken in a violent mood...he would not have the instruments of cutting destruction at his hands.

In his rush, Dhalvahsa had left the door to the back of the clinic slightly ajar, passing across the crack like a phantom as he checked Eri over again, changing the bandage and the rag before shaking his shoulder gently.

He couldn't risk letting the soup grow cold and without the actual chemical distilled to cure his symptoms, Dhalvasha would have to turn to what he knew...remedies that would hopefully bolster his inner strength.

The man did not appear frail in any way, these injuries minor...the sickness easily defeatable.

Still, if left alone in that alley, they might have worsened severely.

"Wake up," the doctor urged, his voice a sibilant whisper against Eri's ears, "I will not be responsible for force feeding you scalding soup."

[Ihnar]

Where was Eri?
Ihnar had seen him head for the door out of the library. He knew that he should not always follow Eri -his master- around. People didn't seem to like being followed, and Ihnar suspected Eri was deep down not different from them. It seemed good to give him some privacy, just like Eri had given the pycon upon his arrival to Sunberth.

Now a part of him was starting to regret the decision. As he had emerged from reading and gotten to the door, he had heard a horrible ruckus coming from outside. He had heard Eri... and some other men as well. Ihnar had dug his memory as far as he could, but had not found any matches for the voices. After silently listening on the other side of the door, he could make up that things were getting nasty out there.

Ihnar knew he should have gone out and helped Eri. He just knew it... but he couldn't get his body to move an inch closer to the door, nor gather enough books to make the stool he needed for reaching the door handle. No matter what he tried, he could not get his body to move. It took awhile for the pycon to realize it was fear. It was a deep fear that was preventing him from going out there.
Besides.. what could I do out there?

He bit his lips nervously and listened further, completely stunned.
B-but it's Eri.. Master..
Ihnar felt torn. He wanted to help Eri, but.. he didn't want to die. But Eri had been such a kind person to him. He had saved him from a possible miserable life as a slave. The least he could do was repay it in some way.
Just risk your stupid miserable life already!

Ihnar finally managed to move. He had to get out there and... do something! The little pycon had no idea of what the 'something' was, but he could not just stay there and possibly lose Eri.
Ihnar bolted at the door.. and forgot he was still too short to reach the cursed door handle. If only he had the power, he would burn this door down, and dance on it's ashes... or maybe someone with a great big axe would hack it up. Yes. That sounded good. The nasty door would be no more. Nothing to keep him from getting to...
Eri.

He had been wasting time! Valuable time! Each second could mean more blood on the streets. More of his friends, his masters, blood. Ihnar prayed for whatever gods that might be out there to at least boost his friends endurance and sword skills as he hurried to find the lowest shelf. The little pycon had never really learned about all the god there were... no. His past life had offered little time to read up or even hear about things like that.

Ihnar nervously managed to grip his hands on two books.
Two, way too THIN books.
He cursed his lack of strength and size for the second time that day as he dragged the books and piled them up against the door.
No time. Must get more.
He bolted back to the shelf and dragged more books. Ihnar briefly wondered if the owner of the library would mind that his copy of 'Horse breeds and their uses' would be stood on by a pycon. Well.. he didn't weight much to damage the book, but it was still a shame to use such a pretty book as a makeshift stool. Ihnar slumped the books atop the pile, getting distracted by the pretty horse pictures on the cover of the book for a few seconds. Such noble creatures.. those.. horse..
Eri.

The pycon nearly tripped on his own feet as he started to mount the pile of books upon remembering he was not here to gaze at pretty pictures.
He grabbed the door handle, as he was about to give the door a push, he stopped to listen.
There was nothing wrong with being cautious, was there?
Nothing. Ihnar tightened his focus. No.. there were foot-steps. Heading away. But there was something else. A dragging sound. Someone was dragging something.

Ihnar crashed full force at the door, and pretty much flew out of it, it shutting with a loud slam behind him. He made a note in his mind, to never stand in that wooden guillotine. That powerful door could easily chop of a limb from a small creature like himself.
In front of his eyes he saw.. some bodies... and a spare head.
A head?
Taking another look at the place he saw that one of the bodies was missing a head. Ihnar felt nauseous at the sight. What kind of a horrible monster would do something like this? Just what had happened here? He could not see Eri, nor Eris body anywhere. Worrying.

The pycon stepped forward and managed to drench his feet in a puddle of blood. Disgustingly warm and worst of all, it was liquid. Ihnar knew what that meant. Slowly he moved his feet and started to head out of the puddle. As his focus drifted he failed. The blood had made his clay feet slippery like a bar of soap. He fell.
Ihnar sat there in the puddle of blood with a rather horrified expression. He didn't have blood inside his clay body, but he knew that humans and other creatures -besides pycons- had this inside them. He wondered how it was like to be full of liquid.
Sorry.. dead person..
It took a few attempts before he managed to stand up. Now.. where was Eri?

Ihnar looked around for any clues. That's when he noticed something. Someone else had stepped in to the pool of blood as well. A trail of bloody foot prints were heading out of the alley. Careful not to slip again, he waddled after the prints. The pycon really wished no-one would see him, all bloodied up and waddling like a duck.
Despite all my efforts, I missed it. I couldn't help Eri.
Soon, still deep in his thoughts he reached a door. The bloody tracks stopped there. But what would he find inside? A murderer? A monster? Eri..? It was time to find out. Someone had clearly been in a hurry since the door wasn't properly closed. For once his small size would come in good use.

Ihnar creeped in and due to a sudden urge, closed the door behind him. It was better to have none come in, if there was a murderer, he could easily call back-up. The last thing he wanted was to be in a room full of bandits and what not. The pycon shuddered and followed the red foot prints further. As he lifted his gaze from the floor, he saw.. Eri. On a table of some sorts... and some weird looking human. However humans didn't have claws like that.. What is he? Ihnar assumed it was a 'he'.

Eri didn't seem very lively. Actually he looked pretty dead to Ihnar. After spending a few more seconds silently observing, he decided to risk it. The creature seemed to be taking care of Eri, surely that meant he was a kind one?

'... A-are ..y-you a.. doctor?' Ihnar asked silently, his voice shaking and sounding awfully tiny. He took a few steps closer to Eri. Whatever had happened to him, Ihnar did not like it. The pycon moved next to Eri.
Please don't die. Not like this.
Ihnar held Eri's hand with both of his own, tiny hands.
'W-wake u-up.. Eri..danus.' No response.
'P-please.. m-master..'

The bloodied up pycon had forgotten about Dhalv, due to being terribly worried of his master.

[Dhalvasha]

The unwelcome intrusion by the little creature reminded the doctor the virtues of a closed door. Hissing to himself he checked his first reaction, which was to swipe at the strange clay figure touching his patient. The emotion quivering from those sculpted lips seemed genuine...a familiar of some sort? Some sort of strange artifact? Crossing the room opposite the Pycon, Dhalvasha shut the door with a bang, turning on his heels and plucking the Pycon from Eridanus's side. The creature was light in his arms, but certainly felt like hardened mud. It was so unlike flesh, so alien to be moving in its likeness that the Symenestra almost dropped Ihnar immediately.

Clenching his teeth together and clearing his head of the alien texture, Dhalvasha set the little Pycon on the far counter. Although slight himself, Dhalvasha dominated Ihnar's vision, an imposing phantom with dusky red eyes narrowed disdainfully at the little creature. He couldn't help it, it was an affront to the study of life he had devoted himself toward. He'd heard of animation before, the magical art of giving mean life properties to inanimate objects...but this was a perversion...or pinnacle of that art. Either way, something about it so close to his patient the doctor didn't like. Besides the distraction the little one provided, Dhalvasha was loathe to let something he had no prior knowledge of exhibit some unknown ability he could not plan for.

"Silence," he ordered, looking it up and down suspiciously, "Bite your...tongue...if that's what you have. I cannot have interference in my refuge." Letting out a breath, he stepped back, swayed back even. Returning to Eridanus's side briefly, he felt the slow pulse thick under his fingers. It was enough. The man had not progressed much farther into the hands of death...and so long as he remained under Dhalvasha's care, he would not.

He turned his attention back to the Pycon.

"This...being is named Eridanus then?" The hesitance before being was because Dhalvasha was not sure what to call him. He was the rumored Ethafael, but having no background in the creatures...he was loathe to work on here-say alone. He sighed, exasperated at how complicated it all was. A companion had let himself into his domain...not only that, but it brought mixed emotions with it. Its small size reminded him of his son, the innocent love it expressed at Eridanus's side...but at the same time its lack of a heartbeat and clay skin revolted the Symenestra.

It was all very distracting.

He sighed again, breathing hard out of his nose and rubbing fingers against his forehead slowly. "Very well, little one. My name is Dhalvasha and to answer your earlier question, yes, medicine is my primary study." He opened one eye, squinting at the doll-like creature.

"I don't suppose you have a name yourself, do you? Or...perhaps you can tell me about my patient?" He held out a hand to Eridanus. "Is there anything special I should know?"

[Ihnar]

It all happened in a blink of an eye. A loud bang and then something touched him. Ihnar hated being touched. He hated it and feared it. As the pycon felt his feet lift off the ground, he realized he had most likely stumbled in to trouble. He was all too aware of the hands holding him. It hurt. It hurt so much. Ihanar tried to scream for Eri, but it all came out as a tiny squeak. Not that screaming for Eri would help. The man still looked dead, or, really passed out.

Ihnar found some relief as the creature placed him on a counter of some sort. The relief was short lived. As he turned his painted blue eyes, all he saw was the creature. Looming there with red eyes.
The pycon stepped further away from him. He didn't want to have anything to do with Dhalv. The man was crazy, clearly. Assaulting him like that, and taking away from his possibly dying master. Ihnar didn't notice it, but he was actually standing on his toes now, trying to see Eri from behind Dhalv.

Ihnar nearly tripped on his own feet when the creature shouted at him. Well it sounded like a shout to him.
What does he want from me? ... or Eri..
The man moved away from him. Ihnar was glad about this. Now he was doing something to Eri.
Ihnar silently as possible jumped down from the counter, keeping his eyes on Dhalv. As long as he wouldn't turn to look, everything would be fine.
The pycon crept closer to Eri. Just as he was getting close he was asked a question, and also the man had brought back his attention on Ihnar.
Ihnar bolted to the other side of the table Eri was on, trying to keep a safe distance to the weird looking creature.

Why did he call Eri a 'being'? That was like calling a dog an animal, when you could have called it a dog. Eri was clearly a human. Atleast that's what humans looked like and, Eri sure looked like one. ... or so he thought.
'H-he... is.. Eridanus.' Ihnar held a small pause.
'He's g-good man... sir. D-don't let him die...' He blurted out really quickly and looked at the floor.
The man was indeed a doctor.
This was amazingly good news. Maybe Eri actually stood a chance now. A small selfish bit about him also was interested to absorb every medical action the doctor would do and store it in his memory. Ihnar had spend a lot of days in the library reading books. Since there had been so many books to choose from, he had slowly found himself drawn to the books about healing, medicine and herbs.

'I..I'm Ihnar... a-and..' He slowly stopped speaking, having realized how little he really knew about Eri. He had swords. was kind. .. and tall... but it would be awkward to offer small bits of information like that. Clearly the doctor wasn't stupid, he could see all of those by himself.
But something was burning inside the pycon. A question. It made him fidget nervously and curl his fingers around his scarf. He also noted that his scarf was really dirty with blood. How upsetting. He would have to wash it... He shook his attention back to the question he had.

'S-sir.. Could you... t-teach.. me..? I-I promise! I w-wont bother you.. and.. I'll behave and.. clean.. and...' He tried to desperately think of something that the creature would want. He'd be willing to do anything, if only the person would teach him. No-one had thaugh tanything to him before. All he had learned was thanks to himself and the people he had silently followed around, observing.

'P-please' He fell to his knees and looked at Dhalv.

[Dhalvasha]

In all his life...well, at least the life he reflected on in recent memory, Dhalvasha had NEVER been groveled to. The very act alone was something akin to acid on his conscience and he almost kicked the little creature. The emotional response was swift and unrelenting. There was something pitying about the Pycon, something intangible and emotional at once. Perhaps it was his son, roughly the same size when he left him alone in Cyphrus...perhaps there were other factors. In any case, Dhlavasha felt uneasy with the Pycon. Everything about it shouted abomination and from a surgical standpoint, Dhalvasha could compare teaching this...thing...with teaching a lamp-post, or a stool the finer arts of surgery and stitching.

He must have looked frightening, certainly the Pycon gave him that impression. All its words were spoken with cloyingly cute stutters. Maybe it had been made that way, a defense mechanism to lead the unwary down a path of underestimation.

Dhalvasha glared at the creature, but could not bring himself to hate it.

Certainly he loathed it, certainly it disgusted him. But all he could see when it asked him in that tone of voice was his own son, a gurgling infant surprised by butterflies and sunlight. There was innocence in the little one, and that in itself was enough to save it the worst of Dhalvasha's unsaid criticisms.

He sighed, at last, pushing out the negativity and all the confusion into one suffused sigh. His lungs gave up briefly and the doctor coughed, leaning back against the wall and crooking one clawed finger to the little one.

"You want to learn, do you? Well...I suppose an assistant would only stand to help me." The crooked finger raised to tap on the Symenestra's chin. He had the name of the patient now, but precious information save that he was a 'good' man. Well, fantastic. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being knifed by a psychopath that was a sometimes-Vantha.

The fingers of dawn were just touching the sky, crawling like veins of blood.

Dhalvasha snapped his fingers and moved to check his patient again, drawing a blanket from beneath the table and laying it over Eridanus. It wouldn't do to worsen his symptoms now. Pneumonia was an entirely different thing to treat and frankly, Dhalvasha would rather not.

At least not without some compensation.

"I do not teach for free," the doctor reminded harshly, drumming his claws on the table, "You will earn your keep each and every day you work for me here." He nodded a head at Eridanus with a crooked grin, "Your friend will be fine, but he needs rest and time for the poison to run its course. You, however, have not given me a name." He watched the child-like thing carefully, "Or even what you are...but for the sake of future interaction, please refer to me as Doctor or Dhalvasha...sir is reserved for Syliran knights and I'll have none of their steel of posturing."

He approached the Pycon cautiously, holding out his hands to show he meant no ill will. "And speak up when you address me. I won't have stuttering in my clinic." He knelt over Ihnar, his face grim. "A doctor cannot afford to be indecisive or unsure. A moment of time may be the last your patient has to breathe. For good or for ill you must decide and commit...so your first lesson will be showing me I'm talking to a student and not a child."

He stood sharply and crossed to a table where he bit into an apple almost lovingly. Over his shoulder he cast Djed through his eyes, a miasma of piercing Hypnotism to whisper sweet ease into the Pycon's sense of self, to repeat mantras of confidence in the thing's mind. As adorable as the stuttering was, Dhalvasha had no time to waste on it. He couldn't be reminded of his son when speaking with the thing, it would cause irreparable...emotional...strain.

Such, the Symenestra was loathe to do.

[Ihnar]

Ihnar sensed he had done something wrong. He could nearly feel a wave of anger coming from the doctor as he sat there on his knees. Deep in his mind he begged that this mistake would not lead him to his death. But what did the doctor want? Ihnar could not come up with anything that would make sense, nor explain the reasons why the man was behaving like that.

As the man glared at him, Ihnar felt like a piece of lead had been fed to him. He was now sure he had met someone who would, and could kill him. Every single thing he had done since getting out of the library felt like it was turning against him. Everything was like a web, carefully made of his mistakes, and he was rolling in it, getting caught in it even worse.

Ihnar remained in the same pose, looking very much like a statue, due to the lack of any movement. Actually, if you hadn't seen him moving, most likely you would think it was a statue. He was still listening and observing the doctor, who was doing most likely something highly medical to Eri.

As the doctor started to approach him, he snapped out of his statue-like state and remembered he was still on his knees, and a possible killer was heading his way.
Also he had been asked a question. Ihnar thought about what to say for some time, he didn't want to make the web he was in even worse. He decided to listen to all the doctor had to say, so he wouldn't end up interrupting.

When the doctor appeared to be done speaking, and was some distance away Ihnar couldn't help feeling a bit relieved. He was still alive. Perhaps the man didn't intend to harm him afterall... and besides when had a doctor killed people? Killing wouldn't match a job that required healing people.
Having never really used magic, Ihnar had no idea a part of his sudden relief was caused by Dhalv. He couldn't sense anything out of the normal in the air.

Clearly the man didn't know what pycons were. Judging by the way he was behaving, he had never even seen one.
'Sir-' Ihnar remembered what the man had said about being called that. He didn't like it.
'Doctor, my name is Ihnar... and.. I am a pycon. You don't know what that is..?' The pycon spoke although his voice was still rather silent, the stuttering was gone. The only thing that remained from the stuttering was occasional shaking in his voice.

'We are..just as natural as the others.. I know.. we look.. different... but we still have feelings. If you were to kick me, it would hurt and I would be sad.' Ihnar didn't feel too good at explaining. He wondered if a human had ever had to try to explain what they were. It would sure be just as hard as this was for him. He figured that would have to do as a brief explanation on what he was.

Now on to the next problem. How on earth could he explain his age to the doctor? Ihnar was one year old. From his observations he knew that humans at that age couldn't walk or talk. Actually they couldn't do anything. He knew if he would tell the man how old he was, he would connect it to the human infants and since he didn't want to teach a child it would be nearly impossible to get him to teach.

Ihnar sighed and stood up. His feet felt a bit numb from sitting on them, so he walked a small circle to get them working properly again.
'.. I assure you, I am not a child.' Ihnar let out another sigh.
'You should know that I am one year old... and.. pycons are all grown up at half an year...So.. judge according to that.'

The pycon knew he would most likely seem even stranger now that he had mentioned the aging system.
Having done all this speaking he began to feel nervous again, as he waited for the doctors reaction. What if he had ruined everything?
... Was it possible the man would be mad and kick him out of this room...? Or really harm him. Luckily Ihnar never mentioned the nexus all pycons had to strangers. If he didn't know what a pycon was, he wouldn't know of the fatal spot on Ihnars head. Still Ihnar found himself slowly backing towards the corner of the room in his rabidly increasing fear.

[Dhalvasha]

It was surreal. The emotion in the voice, the way those painted eyes stared at him, the clay moving in the mimic of emotions...frankly unnerving. Ihnar explained he was a pycon, something Dhalvasha had heard nothing of before. Evidently they felt pain, a ludicrous thing to program into an automation, but evidently they 'grew' as well. Maturity was reached in a short amount of time, pointing to a voracious consciousness. As far as information went, they processed information at a ludicrous speed.

Tapping a claw along his chin, Dhalvasha waited for Ihnar to finish, nodding along with his dissertation about his kind. It made sense, in a way at least. Not that Dhalvasha wanted to dwell on it for long, but it was important to know the details of the...pycon he intended to take under his wing for medical instruction. If it could feel pain, it had the ability of touch. That was important...if it felt nothing, Dhalvasha couldn't teach it. Sometimes medicine was about controlling motions and working off the ability to feel...without it one might as well be a murderer hacking at a body.

"I will judge according to how you present yourself," the symenestra remarked, a smile hinting at the corner of his mouth, "We are nothing to the living if not our impression."

Clapping his hands together sharply, he approached the pycon and knelt to at least try to look at it at eye level. "Medicine is a difficult practice, Ihnar," Dhalvasha warned, "A wrong diagnosis or mis-dose of medicine could kill your patient in all likelihood, it is not a path for those who lack confidence."

Straightening, Dhalvasha held out a hand to indicate the sleeping Eridanus, "Your friend is suffering from a temporary venom and a flu, along with other strains brought on by the rigors of physical activity. Leaving him in the alley would have surely weakened him more, perhaps killed him...but I did not know that when I dragged him in. There is much for you to learn, but we will begin with a caveat...I will allow you to learn from me, even shadow me if that is your will...but only until such a time that I hear you stutter, drop your voice, or shrink away in fear. We are not here to waste time on a lack of confidence. You must shed your unease for the betterment of your patient and yourself. You will show me proper respect, denoted by my profession, and I will do the same for you. If ever you find yourself doubting your path, simply do not return...I am not here to convince you to stay, only to teach if you are willing to abandon your fear and learn."

Taking the rag of Eridanus's head, he handed it down to the Pycon gravely. "Now, your first task is to moisten this towel in cool water. It will help regulate the body's temperature...be quick about it, every moment is precious to a patient."