RP:Defense Against The Dark Arts, Magical Maladies, And The Trouble With Trust

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc

Summary: Khitti and Larewen meet to discuss Khitti's appointment to Frostmaw, as well as Khitti's difficulties controlling her magic.

Mrs.Mallard's Bakery

Khitti was clearly on edge, as she had been as of late. It wasn't that she feared Larewen. Oh no. Her kind...necromancers...was something she had long since learned to remain steadfast in front of. Even while that same dark magic coursed through her own marrow, she despised them and their ways. No, it was not the woman she had qualms with, despite the fact that she had not followed through with the majority of her promises. It was her decision. Despite the dark ranger's obvious dislike of the House she still remained in for now, the elder vampiress still held sway on whether or not she were to go to Frostmaw; the silver dragon likely wouldn't have it any other way in terms of the decision-making. And so, because of this timidness that had taken hold of the red-head, a public place was chosen, one that was all too familiar to her. The bakery wasn't as busy as it often was, but it had just the right amount of customers that it would help in keeping the two women to remain civil towards each other. It's not that she entirely hated Larewen. She knew the woman was busy with things of a more political nature. But, the promises of helping with her magic was not kept, even after the dark font buried deep within her left arm was lent to her to raise Damien and in turn nearly kill her when she was still human. What else exactly was there to do but leave House Dragana? Even if she didn't leave entirely, then perhaps some sort of deal could be struck. She ~needed~ access to that restricted library in Frostmaw. It was imperative that she be the ambassador to that which she had deemed the 'frozen wasteland'. It was life or death at this point. Or, undeath rather. With all of this brewing in that brain of hers, the female known as Khitti von Schreier sat idly in silent waiting for the elder elven woman. There had been no effort to make herself presentable, opting for her worn boots and short black dress that Kreekitaka had bestowed upon her during the Larket Ball. The hood of her duster was pulled up over disheveled crimson locks, hopefully hiding the sleeplessness in her dark verdant eyes. Conceal, don't feel, and all of that nonsense.

Larewen approached in silence, and would be felt from within as her magic crept along before her. Here, in Cenril, there were not so many enchantments by which the elf could see. Her steps were careful, calculated as she moved down the streets and eventually found herself at the very bakery where she'd meet with Khitti. When the elf nudged the door open, she appeared... different. Rather than the cold, hard expression that she'd been known for for so long, Larewen's features were soft. They even belied a sort of sadness, but that was something altogether different. Once the threshold had been crossed, her own magic vacated the room and those dark eyes roamed over the establishment until they spotted Khitti: not by recognition, but by the other's own font. She wasn't sure whether to smile or frown at the other, and instead offered for a faint expression of the former before she approached. "Khitti," she greeted, softly.

Khitti had no carrot cake before her as she so often did, the taste for such things having passed for now. She hadn't partaken in her favorite dessert in weeks. The owner of the bakery knew something had to be up, Khitti wasn't the type to just quit eating something that she had indulged in at least three times a week. As the other woman made her entrance, first that feeling that all vampires have when they're around another of their kind goes off in her mind like an alarm. Then she felt that old, dark magic that also coursed through Larewen's body. And then, finally, her own name was spoken. The dark ranger tried so hard to quell her emotions. She had oh, so many for the necromancer. Her face was kept hidden, though her line of sight was raised towards Larewen for a mere moment before being turned elsewhere. “Larewen.” Her gaze is kept elsewhere, the dark ranger trying so hard to keep her mind focused and away from the fact that the elder vampiress did indeed look different. Get to the point. Don't allow for distractions. There wasn't any time to mess around now.

Larewen was not familiar enough with the other's habits to make a comment upon her diet, or lack thereof. Even if she were, the blindness would have prevented her from observing the other's own odd behavior. In fact, it did so even now, for Larewen could only make out the fledgling's outline. Without a direct invitation to sit, the necromancer remained standing just far enough away that she would hope the other not feel... Feel what? Better yet, why did she care? The fact that she was starting to care too much about everything was bothering her, and perhaps in that brief moment that Khitti would look into those blind eyes, she'd see that conflicted turmoil. Between Emrith, Pilar, and Hildegarde, the elf had finally been broken and despite her angered tongue a few days ago, part of her greatly desired to inquire as to the other's well-being. Unlike Khitti, Larewen wasn't so straight to the point, and so that oddness in her own behavior made itself apparent with, "How are you?" spoken into the silence that followed the other's greeting. There was no comment or reaction to the lack of title she'd been given by the other - another odd thing from such a cold, proud woman.

Khitti certainly wasn't as straight to the point as she wanted to be, despite trying so hard to be so. Instead that anxiety of hers was starting to get the better of her. Why oh why hadn't she asked Daer or Pilar to be here? It would've been so much easier. She had definitely caught that look in Larewen's eyes and it only made things worse in her mind. After some time had passed, the inquiry posed for the dark ranger, and the realization that Larewen was still standing, a sigh finally passes pale lips and a brief eye roll given. She would never get used to the formalities of the nobles. “Sit.” is first said and quickly followed up by a “I'm fine.” Typical feminine answer when things were, of course, not right with Khitti's world. ~Now. Do it. Just say it, stupid. You -need- to get into that damned library!~ was said in the back of her mind, Amarrah bossing her around as usual. “I vant to be zhe one to go to Frostmaw.” It was clear she'd already spoken to the silver dragon. She did her best to keep her resolve and her words firm.

Larewen blinked. First at the command, second at the answer, which as a fellow woman, she knew to be anything but, and third at the other's request. A dark brow arched upward, and it was not obscured by her usual veil, for Larewen had come dressed casually, in that verdant gown, and with her hair in waves around her shoulders. The sigh, the way in which she responded to Larewen, it was all things that would have triggered the elf's temper in the past, and yet now it's as if she doesn't even notice them. Or rather, she does and worse, it gave her more cause for concern, even if she wouldn't voice it just yet. How had Khitti known Larewen was to make that decision? She wasn't sure, given that even Daermon had not known until recently. Pilar had, but she wasn't sure what sort of terms those two were on. In fact, Larewen's last update of Khitti had been Artia telling her what Khitti had done to Pilar, and that was it. "Alright," came her answer, short and spoken gently. The corners of her lips turned upward, again with a faint hesitation. "I have no qualms with that, and I doubt that Hildegarde would either. From what I hear, you two get along well enough. I had actually already decided to reach out to you about that matter, as you're a kind-hearted woman and I don't particularly see you as the sort that wishes to defile sacred graves."

Khitti's crimson brows furrowed in confusion. Wait...did...did she just agree to it? Dark eyes narrow and finally shift back towards Larewen, carefully studying her. “No. I don't.” Not intentionally anyway. With the elder vampiress' blindness still going unnoticed for now, she withholds a smirk, opting instead to shift her lips into a frown, “Zhat's it, zhen? You're just going to let me go, just like zhat?” Not that she was wanting Larewen to change her mind, but the answer was given much too easily. Should she even mention the issue with her magic? Would it matter? Would she even help? She stews on the set of questions, waiting for the elder to answer the ones posed to her already.

Larewen exhaled a soft, gentle sigh in the wake of Khitti's incredulity. There was almost a faint hint of amusement upon the elf's features, but whatever mirth there might have been there, it was heavily outweighed by her own sadness. It was the downside, perhaps, to having that ice-cold heart of hers warmed. Khitti wasn't the only one to be surprised by her actions lately. "In the end, it is not my yay or nay as to whether or not you'll be able to go, but you are my first choice," came the elf's reply before a pale hand reached across the table in an attempt to snare the other's forearm. Of course, it took two attempts to come even near to her target. If Khitti did not pull back, Larewen's fingers would curl around the limb gently. If Khitti allowed the contact, a flow of magic would follow suit, as repayment for the mana that had been borrowed. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that you and Daermon have not been around the House much, and I'm sure you've both your own reasons. That's not my business, Khitti. I don't approve of your actions toward Pilar, either. That doesn't mean that I don't care about your well-being, though. I don't want you to feel anything negative about my House, nor do I want you to feel wholly excluded. Frostmaw is a lovely place, and I think that, even though there is no beach to lay out on, you would be far happier there than you could ever be in the darkness of Vailkrin."

Khitti only became more confused as Larewen attempt to take hold of her arm and then finally does so. That bit of magic returned is felt and almost immediately does the dark ranger shy away from her. “I see.” The fight with Pilar was reflected on, as it had been since the event itself, the frown on her features deepening. “Zhat zhing vith Pilar vas...” No. It didn't matter. Especially not if she was leaving. She shakes her head, looking down at the table now. “It's just zhat...” No, her feelings didn't matter either. “Yes. I'm sure I'll be happy zhere if Hildegarde allows me to go.” That timidness returned to her voice, the tone wavering between uncertainty and a slight amount of irritation with the other female. So long had she waited to finally talk to Larewen about her magic and now there no longer was any time. The frozen wasteland was calling and for whatever reason, she felt the need to help. It didn't even feel like she was doing this for Alex anymore.

Larewen would have watched her reaction, if given the chance. Instead, her dark eyes were focused a little bit off from Khitti's own. The timidness in her voice did not escape the elf, nor did the sudden shying away. Larewen sat back in her chair, hands folding in her lap as she continued to stare blindly at Khitti. "It's just what?" she asked imploringly, her voice soft and gentle. Normally, the anomaly in Khitti's magic might be something she'd recognize, only Larewen had not seen the other since the blindness, and thus was not familiar with how Khitti's magic looked normally.

Khitti's frown worsened. If that was even possible. “Zhe time has come and passed, Larewen. An issue vith my magic has arisen.” And before the elder could make a comment or perhaps change her mind on offering her to Hildegarde, she quickly adds, “It's vith my ability to raise zhe dead only and nothing more. Something of vhich, I'm not entirely fond of and don't plan on using it unless it is a dire moment.” The dark ranger sighs heavily, her line of sight falling to the table. “But, as I said, it doesn't matter and I'm vorking on trying to find a solution.” Pilar had tried, but the amulet she had given her wasn't enough.

Larewen furrowed her brows at the others words. "What do you mean?" she asked, and the concern that had made itself visible upon those oddly warm features made itself audible in the notes of her voice. She listened to the explanation, and then the dismissal, and that did little to soothe the elf's worry. Especially the specificity that it dealt with her ability to raise. While it was not uncommon for necromancers to be in Khitti's shoes, undesiring of raising ghouls, the possibility of an issue therein could be catastrophic. "What happens, when you try?"

Khitti allows another sigh to pass. Her attention is still held by the table as she ponders on Larewen's questions. “My magic is not like yours, Larewen. Similar, yes, but it comes from something else.” -Go on, Amarrah. Let her see you.- There's much grumbling on the butterfly's part back in the confines of Khitti's mind, but ultimately it appears. While the distorted bug would visibly go unseen by the blind vampiress, the dark magic that emanates from it is enough to give the woman the outline needed to 'see' it. The magic in Khitti fades somewhat, the being still tethered to her body and soul. Amarrah was much like Daermon's Barnabus; a being from the Shadow Plane. “Zhe magic is not mine, but hers. She is not a whole being like she once vas and now vith it being transferred through me, it is not as powerful as it could be.” With that part of the explanation out of the way, she continues, “Vith zhat being said, of late I have tried to practice my necromancy. My other abilities are fine, but raising zhe dead brings...problems. As Daermon put it, it is much like a water skin vith holes poked into it. No matter how much I try to focus my energy on zhe zhing I vish to raise, zhe magic filters out of me and awakens zhe dead. So far, it is just spirits and I've not been alone either time. I've only tried raising pets in zhe cemetery. I refuse to try anything ~larger~ until I can deal vith zhis.” She wondered what the vampiress might be thinking with all of this, “Don't let zhis change your half of the decision. As I said...I'm trying to take care of it.”

Larewen was almost childlike in her not so well hidden excitement as the butterfly pulled itself away from Khitti, and with it so much of the dark ranger's magic. The name used to refer to the creature did not pass by Larewen's notice, and it was committed to her memory. With what she could see coupled with Khitti's explanation, it made far more sense as to why Khitti might be having issues with raising the dead. It was a conflict of interests and a battle of wills, it seemed. "It is certainly something to keep in mind though, Khitti," the elf said after a long moment. A frown weighed heavily on her lips. For a moment, silence stilled the air and it appeared as if the elf was considering changing her mind. Ultimately, she responded with, "I am still willing to send you, but you must make me a promise if I do, Khitti. Promise me that you'll not attempt to practice raising the dead anywhere in Frostmaw; that you'll return to Vailkrin for that. When you go to Frostmaw as my ambassador, it is to not only make yourself a home, but to protect their spirits from necromancers that lack our morality. Until we are able to find a way for you to control what is raised, we cannot chance disturbing the peace of Frostmaw's spirits."

Khitti shook her head, though of course it went unseen. "I know. I have no interest in doing zhat. It vas merely supposed to be a last resort vhen zhings got difficult. I have no vish to hurt my friends or anyone else zhat vill be zhere." After some time in thought, the dark ranger slides from her chair. As she stands, her attention slides away from the table and to the floor, the frown returning. The distorted butterfly fades away, disappearing into that long since closed dark magic font embedded deep within her left arm. "Zhank you...for coming here. I must go, however. If I don't return to zhe inn and get a few hours sleep, Daer is going to kill me. I've been studying too much for his liking. I vill tell Hildegarde of your decision."

Larewen dipped her head in the wake of Khitti's words, and when the other rose, her gaze followed a bit slowly. She was, after all, following that faint outline of magic. She couldn't see the other's stare relocate to the floor, and so she offered a soft smile to the other. "He's right. There are times when Emrith does the same to me." A wince of pain, as she still needed to talk to him about certain matters. "If you truly loathe the magic within you, it can be bound. I wouldn't wish for it, as it is against my own beliefs, but if you determine that is something you want or need, I will do it for you. Be well." It was all that Larewen offered in parting words.

Khitti stayed standing there for a few moments, considering the elder necromancer's words. It was something she had always thought about. Getting rid of her magic. Or maybe even reversing the process that had been done to her. But that would be painful...and who knows what would happen to either her or Amarrah. “No. I...don't zhink zhat vill be necessary. At zhis point, I don't zhink I could part vith Amarrah. She is like a sister to me.” Leaving that thought for now, she gives yet another sigh, then moves to the door, “Goodbye, Larewen. I vill come to you if zhings vith my magic vorsen.” Saying no more now, she heads out the door. The bell above the exit rings as she exits and that magic aura that Larewen could sense disappearing from the vicinity.