RP:To Wish Impossible Things

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc

Summary: Brand and Khitti finally interact after two weeks. She tells him of her impossible wishes and he goes along with it, for now.

Rented Room (Frostmaw Tavern)

Brand awoke already irritated. A dream clung to the edges of his consciousness, leaving only enough detail to know it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on further. Somewhere outside, a child shrieked, gleefully testing the limits of their lung capacity. Brand would bet this week's whiskey budget that the banshee had been his unwanted rousing call. With a grumble, he rolled over and buried his head under a pillow, in the futile hope that sleep would take him again.

It had been another sleepless night for Khitti even though she was back home. It had only been a couple days since she returned to the city after that fight with Dominic, and despite the fact that they were speaking again a little more, it was still pretty tense. On top of that, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Brand since the battle in Larket and the unfortunate occurrence with the necklace. She felt like she was walking on eggshells, her anxiety peaking higher than ever before, and it just wouldn’t allow her to sleep whatsoever. Well, she hadn’t seen Brand, anyway, until he’d stumbled in last night when she was attempting to rest. She’d pretended to sleep, and it hadn’t been for long, because by time she finally decided to roll over, he’d already passed out. So many times throughout the night she’d contemplated snuggling up to him, but thought better of it, and eventually made her way out of bed. There’d been an hour or so of pacing--as quietly as possible, of course--and then a bit of reading of fairy tales in front of fireplace...until that kid outside decided to wake the dead--and the Brand. She cringes at Brand’s grumbling and the prospect of dealing with another of his unsavory mood as she moves from her chair to the window. The child was doing what children do best in a wintry region, which was of course making snowpeople. After a brief glance at Brand and his pillow hideaway, she opens the window momentarily and throws a well-aimed fireball at the shrieking thing’s newest creation. There’s tears immediately as the child looks up at Khitti, to which the redhead responds with an angry pointing at the kid, then further up the road, as if to say ‘get lost’. The kid does indeed listen, crying the entire time as it ran away from the tavern. With a heavy sigh, she shuts the window, but doesn’t part from it just yet, instead resting her forehead against it as she crosses her arms over her chest and people-watches the Frostmaw citizens below that had gotten up with the sun.

Though the pillow muffled his surroundings, Brand could still hear enough to infer what Khitti had done. Truly, she was a hothead after his own heart, and he’d likely have some wisecrack at her expense if her actions hadn’t felt a touch… hotter than usual. “Thanks,” he uttered instead, peeking out for just long enough to catch a glimpse of her backside. It was the first word he’d said to her in weeks. It might be the last, too, if he could just drift back off…

Thud. Crack. A snowball with a rock in it slammed into the window, shattering it just as Brand neared the gates to dreamland. The child was back, mother in tow. And boy, was she ever furious. No one tells MY child where he can build a snowman -- just who does Khitti think she is?! “Wait,” called Brand, hopefully -before- Khitti could further escalate the situation. “Let Drargon deal with ‘em.” Regardless of who’d started it or who was in the right, Khitti and Brand were long-term, paying customers, and warrior-mom was now a vandalist. Even a groggy, irritated Brand could see the advantage in choosing their battles.

The redhead had thankfully spun around the moment he’d spoken the first time, lest she get shards of glass in the face. She’d still not had a full meal since Larket, and her movements were still a bit sluggish--slow enough, in fact, that the rock-filled snowball managed to hit her in the back of the head. Whichever one decided it was a good idea to throw the ball in the first place probably should be in sports or something. Khitti winces, squinting her eyes shut as her lips twisted unhappily into a frown. She looks like she might get upset about it, but surprisingly doesn’t, instead letting out a tired sigh. His words of warning barely get an ounce of acknowledgement, but she certainly doesn’t retaliate. Lacking the magic to fix it temporarily, she unties the heavy curtain from where it had been drawn back to, letting it collapse together in front of the window to block any other incoming projectiles -and- the biting, cold air that rushed into the room. After doing the same with the other curtain to block out all the light entirely and then tending to the glass, she’d finally address Brand, “I’m sorry… Go back to sleep, okay?” before adding more logs to the fire to compensate for the winter weather that had begun to blow into the room. Despite however little they spoke to her, or how much they chose to yell at her for the things she did and the way she acted, she still thought only of them.

“Mm. Yeah, not happening.” Brand had already thrown the pillow off his face and was now propping himself up on his arms, squinting towards Khitti and the fire. Outside, Drargon could be heard chewing out both woman and child, demanding payment for the broken window. “You alright? C’mere, let me take a look.” Brand -did- care. Sometimes.

Khitti gnawed on her bottom lip, hesitating a moment before she ultimately decided to do as she’s told. “I’ll be fine.” When he did look beneath all of that fiery hair after she sat on the bed beside him, he’d find a decent-sized lump, which was likely a little sore, but there was no blood as the snowball hadn’t been sharp with bits of ice. “It’ll go away eventually.” She didn’t seem too outwardly bothered by it, but there’d be some more wincing and a bit of air sucked in sharply between her teeth. Once that was said and done, regardless of what happened, she’d turn around to eye him and then the empty space between him and the edge of the bed, “Can I…?”, obviously intending to lay down next to him if he’d let her. She’d not fight it if he didn’t want her to, but she could only pace and read so much. She also might’ve missed him as much as she missed Dominic. Maybe. Definitely. Don’t tell him though.

Brand investigated the wound, but ultimately seemed to agree with Khitti’s assessment of it. “Yeah, you’ll live. Helped that it had to go through the window first.” He clapped her on the shoulder in a manner that could only be described as, well… brotherly. Certainly, it was a gesture more befitting friends than lovers. His response to her question, too, indicated a particular distance. “I don’t see why not. S’your bed, too.” But as she laid down he’d rise from the bed, rub the sleep out of his eyes, and rummage through the dresser for the day’s fresh clothes. Without another word, he shut himself in the side room and prepared himself a bath. Whether he was avoiding her intentionally or not, Khitti would have to wait if she wanted to lay near him.

It didn’t take the poor woman long before she realized that he wasn’t coming back to the bed at all. There’s a twinge of sadness once he’d left the room, and she even started having second thoughts about coming home again, but she didn’t act on them. It would’ve been so easy to leave again, now that he was distracted by his bath, but the fact that she’d more than likely never see either Dominic or Brand ever again kept her in the room. With an unhappy sigh, she’d roll out of the bed again and move to the armchair instead to stare silently at the fire after a bit more pacing.

Brand eventually emerged, dressed for a day spent indoors and still rubbing the last vestiges of water out of his hair. His eyes went first to the bed but then, finding it unoccupied, wandered until they hit upon Khitti staring into the fire. A flick of the wrist and the flames jumped, threatening to set the carpet alight before settling back into their proper home. That would certainly get her attention. “Both hands on the rails, peach,” he advised, shaking his head and turning away to dispose of his old laundry, “unless you’ve grown gills.”

Khitti tensed as the fire grew, going so far as to pull her legs up into the chair with the rest of her to escape what could’ve been a fiery fate if he’d deemed it. Green eyes narrowed a bit and red brows knitted together as she shot an unhappy look towards Brand, her own head shaking as he walked away, “Stop it,” her tone melancholy and a little defensive. She almost preferred the tense silence that had filled the room the past few days with Dominic to Brand’s...Brandness. It was as if everything that had happened between them vanished, the delicate flower that was their odd relationship as friends, and soon after that as lovers, had all but withered. It was all that damned necklace’s fault--the necklace that she somehow couldn’t bear to part with and still sat in the pocket of her coat--she should’ve melted it down the instant the vision was over. Well, if this was how things were to be again, she had no patience for it, and promptly glowered at the hearth instead of Brand himself, quietly deciding to let him deal with any more domestic burdens she would’ve normally done for him. What was the point anyway?

She hadn't moved. Brand took that to mean she hadn't understood. Once the laundry was sorted and his towel hung in the side room, the Catalian crossed to stand behind Khitti's chair. "Means people who dwell too much on problems they can't solve tend to drown in 'em." For a beat, Brand peered down his nose at the top of her head. An arm wrapped tightly around the vampiress -- a hug? No, he'd made a slash along his forearm at some point while Khitti'd been lost in her thoughts. "Feed," Brand demanded. Blood oozed up from the cut, fresh and willing and barely an inch from her mouth. "There's one problem you -can- solve."

The smell of his blood as it seeped from his wound was overpowering. That thirst she’d been putting off as much as possible for the past two weeks grew steadily as the very thing she needed to survive was shoved into her face. “No. Get it away from me,” she hissed and pushed his arm out of the way so that she could slide out of the chair and stalk over to the other side of the room to sit on her side of the bed. “I don't vant it. And spare me your philosophical nonsense. You've been completely silent up until now. If you were zhat concerned, you vould’ve done or said something days ago.” She sighed, a little regretful of her attitude, and leaned over to put her face in her hands.

Brand tensed, and for a moment it seemed he might leap upon her and give her no choice but to feed. At the very least, he might yell at her until she gave in -- that certainly wasn't out of bounds from his usual behavior. But Brand exhaled, and the danger passed. “Days ago, I was still thinkin’,” he said, joining her on the bed, still holding his arm out in offering. He was so quiet -- not the chilled calm that preceded a storm of rage, but almost… sympathetic, pleading. “You know you need it. And I've…” He twisted his lips in discomfort. “...got somethin’ to show you. Sure as frak dunno how to say it.” If it began to look like Khitti would acquiesce, Brand had one more thing to say before giving himself over to her. “Ah -- an’ you should know, the kid’s blocked out right now.” A squint. “He doesn't get to know of this, understood?”

That tone of his caught her off guard--had she ever heard him speak that way before? Khitti’d peek through her fingers at his arm before pulling her hands away entirely to look at him. Something to -show- her? He never showed her anything that was going on in that head of his, not often anyway. His entire demeanor tugs at her heartstrings, much in the way Dominic usually did, and finally she breaks the silence that had followed the things he said with a sigh. She’d give in of course, mildly bitter that the duo she was so in love with had her wrapped around their fingers and neither of them realized it. Damn them. Brand’s arm is taken up finally with a nod to him, the vampiress drinking in his blood deeply, almost more than she should. As she drank, she started to lean over against him, out of habit, but managed to catch herself doing so and laid back against the bed instead, continuing to keep that distance between them. It didn’t take long for the blood to work it’s magic on her, that bump on her head healing up sooner than expected as the warmth and color returned to her body.

Brand had initially possessed no intention of showing Khitti anything that went on in that head of his. But she'd been stubborn -- once again -- about something that was for her own gorram good, and… considering the circumstances, he'd throw her a bone. Besides, he'd turned this particular thought over and around in his head a thousand times by now, and he still couldn't make sense of it. Maybe she could. Maybe it would help her stop obsessing over what she couldn’t have. She fed and the link between them opened; Brand’s mind opened in pieces, each thought carefully constructed before being allowed past that wall. Slowly, and only once he was satisfied she’d fed enough from him, he revealed fractions of a dream to her. Khitti had been left behind in Raiez’s jar, and he had dreamed of her. Sort of. [The hell am I supposed to make of it, peach?] Brand’s voice floated over the scene -- Khitti and Brand, themselves but not themselves, interacting in that same strange home with the same strange electric magicks. [I’ve dreamed of that same place before. I’d almost forgotten. Dream made no gorram sense half the time, but then, they never do. Wasn’t worth thinkin’ on too much ‘til I remembered it again after the vision, and realized the two connected. And…] A flash of Lydia. An even briefer flash of Viera, reined in and suppressed before it could take full form. [...Your sister, behind the dream. I’m not sayin’ it’s real, and I’m not sayin’ you should keep pinin’ for it like you’ve been, but I’d bet you she knows where the frakkin’ thing came from. The meanin’ of it. Maybe, you get answers from her, and then you can put it to rest, aye? No more wallowin’?]

[You two don’t get it,] was said finally along their link as she watched the bits of Brand’s dream. Parts of her own dream was added to the pool--the running and faceplanting on the beach, Brand taking care of her like she had with him in his dream. It was still that same apartment, just further down the timeline, smack dab in the middle of his own and their shared vision. [It’s not zhe zhings in zhe dreams I vant. I don’t care about any of zhat material stuff ve--zhey had. She gets it, zhough. Lydia. I don’t even have to ask if it vas truly her because she’s pretty much in zhe same boat as me, but vorse.] She was being cryptic, unsure if she should say anything at all. It was silly wasn’t it, these thoughts she had? Dream-Brand hadn’t been at all like the Brand she fell in love with, but when she was stuck inside that jar, it was better than nothing. He’d made her breakfast, even took the day off of work to help her get to the doctor she so desperately needed for her head. Khitti had long since stopped feeding from him, but still clung to his arm. [I vant to grow old vith you, if you allowed it...but I can’t...because of vhat I am. It vouldn’t be zhe same. Zhat’s vhat I’m pining over. Lydia understands because she’s dead too. Neither of us got a choice in it. Zhat idiot vampire zhat sired me vould say otherwise, but I didn’t. Not really. Not vhen Amarrah vas killing me from zhe inside out. I -had- to.] Her own side of the link is suddenly walled off just as the dream shifts to that empty Dominic husk that had tried to kill her and the fire that followed. Khitti’d release Brand finally and scoot away from him, closer towards the pillows, giving him his space again. “I vant to find a cure…but I don’t even know vhere to start…”

Where to start? Brand didn’t know where to start, either. He’d thought his dream would be some kind of a revelation to her, but her dream, her thoughts… where to begin? Brand leaned forward off the edge of the bed, eyes to the floor, hands clasped under a troubled expression. “Why would Lydia show you such things? What the frak’s her aim? How does she even come up with them? Would she be why the necklace… did what it did, or is there somethin’ else at work?” Questions upon questions upon questions.

Khitti pulled her legs up onto the bed, curling up somewhat as she laid her head on the nearest set of pillows, her line of sight fixed on the wall. “I don’t zhink her ‘aim’ is as sinister as you zhink. I’ve been zhinking about it too...Not much else for me to do out zhere vith zhe ghosts, you know. Zhe necklace vasn’t her. It didn’t feel familiar like it did in my dreams vhen I vas vith her. Probably just something pulled from our own heads and twisted by vhatever magick is in it. Or my head, at least, since you didn’t seem to be so keen on any part of zhat vision vhatsoever.” She sighs heavily and shuts her eyes. “...I zhink she just vants me to be happy for once…to have a ‘normal’ life. Zhat’s certainly all I’ve vanted since all of zhis vith Amarrah started.” A pause. “And, maybe she can see planes of existence zhat ve can’t. I don’t know. If zhat vas her, I haven’t seen or felt her...maybe zhat’s vhy I’ve felt so alone since I’ve been out of zhe cave, even vith you two and Pilar around. Maybe she’s not coming back.”

Not Lydia’s doing? Other planes? …’Normal’? Brand needed some time to ponder that. He’d taken to pacing the length of the room, chewing at the inside of a cheek. “Lydia or no Lydia, I don’t think it’s somethin’ you can change, kiwi. Leastways, not that I’ve ever heard of. An’ that’s the sorta thing I think I would’ve heard of. Can’t stop you from lookin’, but this is the same damn sorta way how --” No. Comparing her to Viera had gone so poorly last time, even if he was right. Five more paces before he tried again. “And let’s say, for the sake of argument, there is a cure. There is no ‘normal’. Even if you take vampirism out of the picture, ‘normal’ for people like you and I is a death in combat, not old age and domestic bliss and a gaggle of oddball children.” Yeah. Dominic the child was pretty odd in that vision. “You -do- understand that, right? If ‘normal’ is really what you’re after, you’d best chase after that cure and someone who -ain’t- a fighter, right now. Fightin’ -is- my normal, an’ you can’t exactly split me from your little bookworm boy.”

“I know…” was said flatly, with a hint of dejection. Khitti didn’t argue with him at all because, well, he was right. A bout of silence floats between them again as she dwells on the things he’d said, a pillow placed over her face as if that would actually block out her thoughts. “Just forget it, okay…? I never should’ve listened to Lionel. Never should’ve vent to training zhat day. Did nothing but get my ass kicked anyway. Zhere probably -isn’t- a cure. It’s all some big, stupid pipedream like everything else.” Lydia was wrong and Brand was right. She was likely going to die in combat just as he said, and probably due to some stupid clumsy mistake that she’d likely make. “I don’t know vhat I vas zhinking.” This was all so frustrating. She never should’ve said anything at all.

Five more laps around the room. She’d said exactly what he wanted to hear, right? She should just forget about the whole affair? But, there was that one niggling factor… “You talked to Lionel about a cure already?” Brand’s frown deepened. Ten laps. “Well, I daresay the man’s seen more’n I have, and that’s saying somethin’.” Fifteen. Shut your trap, Brand. This isn’t a can of worms you want opened -- and she’s gone and closed it again so very nicely. Quite the favor she’s done you. Usually it’s a frakton more difficult than that. “But really, you talked to -him- first? Before me? Before the kid?” Twenty. He’d seen that look on her face. He’d felt that stew of emotion through their link. She wouldn’t really drop this so easily, surely? She’d said she didn’t know where to start, and that probably meant Lionel didn’t, either, but... there was a chance she was saying what he wanted to hear, and if he took the bait she’d do what she wanted anyway and leave him out of it. Hmm. Brand came to a halt at the end of the twenty-sixth lap, studying Khitti sidelong. If she -did- find something, and started hiding things from him, he’d be left lacking crucial information. If he lacked information, he couldn’t protect her. That included protecting her from the outcomes of her ‘big, stupid pipedreams’. Frak. “What did he have to say? If he thinks there’s a cure…”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Brand. He’s zhe one zhat brought it up. Just because I’ve been zhinking it since day one of zhis hell didn’t mean I vas ever going to mention it. People vouldn’t zhought I vas crazy. -You- vould’ve zhought it.” Khitti’s attitude was likely a bit more harsh and defensive than it should’ve been, but she tired of him chiding her all the time. “Vhat vas I supposed to say anyway to either of you? ‘Hey guys! You should stop being mad at me so I can tell you about zhis awful plan I have zhat vill likely end up in nothing but tears because it’s stupid and I can’t ever do anything right anyway! Yay!’” She even throws her hands up into the air in mock celebration. “Yeah. Good plan. Brilliant. Zhe best.” She threw the pillow that had been on her head at the wall with a bit of force, “You vere basically nonexistent and I vasn’t about to piss off Dominic again. I can deal vith your anger, but not his. Lionel made me talk to him. Knew something vas vrong vhen I could barely swing a sword. I didn't give him many details besides zhe fact zhat Dominic and I had fought and zhat I didn't vant to be vhat I am anymore. He was Mr. Optimism and essentially said zhat ve’d search and find answers along zhe vay. A cure, vhether ve find it or not, isn’t going to matter if I can’t get rid of zhe bitch upstairs.” She motions at her head, clearly meaning Amarrah.

“Huh.” Brand plunked himself down onto the edge of the bed again, pivoted just enough to hold Khitti in his line of sight. “But he really does have no idea, then. Just spewin’ hope for the sake of it? You’ve been tryin’ to get rid of ol’ Lemoncakes since we met, at the least.” He was only pointing out the obvious. It wasn’t going to help her mood. Sighing, Brand leaned over until he could reach some part of her -- her ankle, in this case. There was an awkward attempt at a reassuring squeeze before he sat up again. “Look, peach, what you’ve got’s not a plan. Not if you don’t even know where to begin searchin’. Right now, all you’ve got’s a one-way ticket to despair. All those cautionary tales of mages spending their whole lives lookin’ for a spell that doesn’t exist… they aren’t tales for nothin’. That’s not to say you can’t come -up- with a plan or the cure might not just stumble upon you, but… both hands on the rails, for now. You stop feedin’ and you won’t last long enough to find a cure. You pull some gorram disappearing act on the kid and he might not be around for your ‘happily ever after’.” No word on his own feelings about her disappearance. “You can’t ignore the now for the maybe.”

His hand hadn’t been allowed to touch her ankle for very long, for no sooner did his fingers hit her skin did she pull away from him. It was odd considering how often she tried to get affection of any sort out of him. “I vas never meant to have a happily ever after anyway,” was said quietly once he’d finished speaking. Khitti rubbed her face idly with both hands, letting out a sigh as she rolled to his side of the bed, then off of it entirely. “Zhere’s zhe necromancers guild I could look into, but I’d rather have nothing to do vith Larewen if I can help it. I’ll just be met vith disappointment again.” She ignored his warnings about Dominic and her feeding, or lack thereof. “I’ve never even looked at the books on necromancy and zhe like at zhe library in Xalious. Mainly because for zhe longest time I vanted nothing to do vith it. I vas always searching about zhe Shadow Plane anyway. Or maybe I’ll go back to Vailkrin...or Cenril. Been needing to go back to Vailkrin anyway...” Her thoughts trailed off as she was the one that took to pacing now, again, her attention fixed on the floor.

Brand really ought to know this was the way things went with Khitti by now. He really should. As it was, he only barely resisted the urge to slap palm to forehead in exasperation. Regardless of any advice he tried to give her, she wasn’t going to plan. This wasn’t a plan. She was going to obsess. She was going to spend the next five years combing through every library and mage’s collection in Lithrydel. He just had that feeling. “Do what you must, I s’pose,” he managed, before rising off the bed again. “I’m gonna go get food, an’ maybe talk to Drargon ‘bout that window.” Exit stage left. If he was going to get dragged any further on this crazy ride, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be on an empty stomach.

Khitti had been trying to formulate a plan, but all of Brand’s negativity was really starting to put a damper on things. If she didn’t know where to start, then how would a plan get formed at all? As he leaves, she roll her eyes at him, letting out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Go away again. Just like you always do.” was muttered with a shake of her head once the door had shut. The redhead paced a bit longer, then finally made a decision. A bit of tea was made to calm her nerves, and then a bath drawn. While she wished desperately to be able to just sink into the tub and never come out, she washed and dressed in those soft braided leather pants she’d come to love and her long-sleeved green shirt, leaving the top few buttons unbuttoned. Boots would be pulled on and both her and Brand’s coats grabbed before she head out the door and went downstairs. Regardless of whether or not he’d finished eating, she’d toss his coat at him, say “Hurry up. We’re leaving,” put her own coat on, then headed outside to wait semi-patiently for him, without waiting for a response at all.

Brand almost got coat in his mashed potatoes. That wouldn’t have been good at all. Only just barely did he manage to catch the airborne apparel thrown his way; Khitti did not catch the glare thrown hers. Reluctantly, Brand shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth and exited the tavern to see what the frak the vampiress was on about -this- time. Not without his usual snark, though. “What’s happened, Lemoncakes get your knickers in a twist again?” Brand found his hat and gloves stowed away in a pocket and donned those while eyeing their surroundings. The irate mother and her child had left again, thankfully. To hear Drargon tell it, she’d put up quite the fuss but ultimately agreed to pay for the damages. Brand had inquired what had convinced her, but Drargon was tight-lipped, only offering a vague, “Just be glad it was her, and not you.” Welp. He and Khitti would certainly need to work to repair the damage they’d done to their room before the owner ever saw it.

Winding Path

The vampiress, of course, only rolled her eyes at Brand and his sarcasm. “Vould you rather me allow her to pop out here to say ‘hello’ to you? I can do zhat. You’re so keen on being a royal ass to me, might as vell let you spout off your snark to her instead. Seemed you rather enjoyed zhe fire on zhe ground and trying to not get your arm chewed off by zhe legion of undead she summoned.” She’d stalk off away from him, making sure her pace was just a bit quicker than his own so that he’d have to keep up. “Ve’re going to Xalious. To zhe library.” It’d been some time since she’d been back there; not since that day her and Dominic had danced about inside the library where events would soon turn to a fiery argument with Amarrah--not long enough for long hours of research, anyway. She’d lead him down the mountainside, mostly in silence as she glowered at the snow beneath their feet. Could he ever -not- be difficult?

Brand grunted his dissent. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘enjoy’ looks like, dontcha?” But yes, difficult, -could- he ever not be difficult? That remained to be seen. There was certainly no evidence today. Brand picked a pace and stuck to it, not bothered by Khitti’s running on ahead. It was plenty fast enough for a walk -- and did Brand ever -not- walk like he had somewhere urgent to be? -- but he wasn’t about to jog to keep up with the vampiress. She’d probably just shadowstep to get further ahead if he caught up to her, anyhow. “Xalious?” he called to her, before she got too far out of range. “What’re you expectin’ to find there that you’ve not already found?”

Khitti let silence linger between them for awhile after his question, brows furrowing and a frown surfacing. With a sigh, she pauses, allowing him to catch up. “Zhere’s one section out of zhe entire library zhat I’ve not looked at yet.” She’d continue on, a little slower now, that familiar pensive air about her again. “I’ve avoided it for so long because I didn’t vant to accept vhat I am. I still don’t vant to, but...I don’t really have any choice. Probably should’ve looked zhere months ago, to be honest, but it’s...just…” Her words trail off and she shakes her head, letting it end there.

What she is? What Khitti is… oh. Brand got it, now. “Huh. Alright. Fight fire with fire, eh?” Brand took a moment to ponder that. How would necromancy work to remove Amarrah, exactly…? Brand couldn’t say. He dabbled in many sorts of magic, but that had never been one of them, nor did he particularly take interest in it. An army of corpses was far too … grisly, and why raise the dead to do your bidding when you could use fire and get living people to do it instead? They smelled much better, for starters. Well, most of the time. He’d met a few exceptionally odorous living folks over the years, but it was probably better -not- to think about those. “S’pose that’s a better start than what you had, peach.” Brand cast his thoughts off with a shrug. He’d earned her approval to carry on with this research of hers… not that his approval was strictly necessary, but he sure as frak liked to pretend it was.

“Zhat’s not exactly it. I need to, um, practice. I guess. Need to know vhat to do if zhose spirits in zhe ruined city get unruly, you know? But, I figured, it’d kill two birds vith one stone. Maybe I’ll find something zhere.” Khitti paused in her thoughts momentarily, chewing at her bottom lip, “Vhen I’ve found zhe zhings I’ve needed, vill you go to Vailkrin vith me? I don’t vant to stir zhings up in Frostmaw. Hildegarde and Lionel vould probably kill me if I accidentally set a hoard of undead on a killing spree. Zhe last two times I vent to practice my necromancy, it did not go vell…”

“Vailkrin? Yeah, figures you’d need a bodyguard for that.” Brand frowned. “Hmm. No raising spiders -- you piss ‘em off, I don’t exactly wanna get hauled off to the healer with a bunch of venom swimmin’ in my system again. An’ the kid won’t wanna go. Place gives him the creeps. I mean, he’ll go if there’s a good enough reason, but… doesn’t sound like somethin’ you need his help for, anyhow.” Khitti earned a sidelong gaze and a slowly growing smirk. “Guess you’re gonna be stuck with me for all that. You sure that’s somethin’ you want?”

Mage Library

“It’s either zhat or my vorst nightmare happens: I get ripped apart by zombies and spirits zhat are already pissed off at me from last time. You’re only my second vorst nightmare, you know. Better vork on zhat.” There’s a grin, albeit a faint and brief one. Khitti’s soon growing solemn again though as she gives the blonde a shake of her head. “No. No spiders. And I don’t vant Dominic anywhere near zhat city. -Ever-. Do you hear me? Don’t let it happen. Vhen ve’re zhere, he sees nothing. You block him out entirely unless zhere’s some sort of emergency.” She stops as they reach the library finally, spinning about to face Brand, “Speaking of Dominic, I’m vorried about him.” She side-eyes their surroundings cautiously, “Zhat runestone...it did something...and I don’t zhink it’s anything good. I’m probably just paranoid, but… He said you veren’t zhere zhat day, vith zhe spirits, vhen him and I fought. Vhere vere you? Vhy didn’t you save him?” She sighed, shaking her head again, “He zhought it vas creepy, me following him sometimes, and I guess I can see it from his side of zhings, but if I hadn’t, something could’ve happened to him.”

“Kid’s been there before, but I can block him out if you really think it’s that much of an issue. He’d probably prefer it anyway, heh.” The library loomed before them. Brand made a great show of removing all of his wintery clothing in preparation for the warm indoors. “And yeah, kiwi, you’re paranoid, but what else is new? I had my reasons, but that business is none of yours.” Brand shrugged, cutting off further conversation on the topic. Just before he stepped into the library, a stern glance held a second longer than usual communicated another message entirely: was this -really- the best place to be asking things like that? Magic 8 Ball says ‘ask again later.’ Reckless talk like that was going to get him poked and prodded at by eavesdropping mages in no time, or worse.

“You dummy, I know he’s been zhere before. But how long did you two stay zhere? How much did he see besides zhe forest and zhe spiders zhat I saved your ass from? Probably not vhat I’ve seen. Vhat I -know-. It’s no place for him. It’s no place for -you- either for zhat matter, but I don’t have a choice because I don’t trust anyone else to help me. Lionel’s too busy vith his Larket nonsense and Pilar can’t ever be counted on for something like zhat--even more so now vith zhis metal leg of hers zhat she’s not used to.” She doesn’t speak anymore on the topic of Dominic and his unfortunate magical plight, but she does narrow her eyes at Brand in response to his ‘it’s none of your business’ schtick, “I’m getting real sick of always having to explain myself but no one else around me seems to have to.” Once he’s inside the door enough, she pushes past him and heads towards the section on necromancy and the like. There’s a moment of hesitation, and an obvious chill up her spine, before she sets down the first aisle. Let’s see...Curses...Carnomancy...Death Fungus and Other Poisonous Herbs. She eyed each and every tome carefully, a finger running horizontally along their spines.

Brand stood watch near the outermost shelves of the section. No one was near, and he’d stare down whoever he had to to make sure it stayed that way. “I’ve got no qualms with goin’ there if there’s a reason,” was muttered to Khitti, when he was certain enough they had the area to themselves. “Not so much that it’s ‘no place’ for us as it’s no place any sane mortal would want to set up shop and hearth, y’know?” In truth, Brand was mostly bristling at the idea that there was anywhere he ‘shouldn’t’ be. Tell a Brand there’s something he shouldn’t do, and you drastically increase his chances of doing it out of spite.

“Vhen it’s zhe only place zhat vill take you in because you’re a freak of nature, you live vhere you have to. Hell, Hildegarde probably doesn’t even vant me in Frostmaw. Notice how she sticks zhe necromancer-type vampire vith a job zhat’s far, far away from zhe city. And zhat vas only for zhe politics. Ve’re not even allowed to feed in zhe city. Granted, zhere’s a lot of idiot vampires zhat zhinks it’s fine to attack anyone, like zhat psycho Laezila zhat frequented zhe var camp a lot, but don’t pool us all together like zhat. Designate a specific building. Turn it into a pub of sorts. I don’t know. It’s not zhat complicated.” Khitti sighs exasperatedly, grabbing a book from the shelf called ‘Necromancy for the Brainless’ and handing it over to Brand to hold. “It’s easier to keep to yourself in Vailkrin vhen you’re a monster. For zhe most part anyway. Unless you happen to be a vampire zhat doesn’t drink from zhe living, zhen you tend to draw a little attention to yourself. My magic, at least, blended in vith zhe rest of zhe dark deeds zhat goes on in zhat town.” A few more books were pulled from the shelves and handed over: Raising the Dead in Twelve Easy Steps!, Music to Wake The Dead, and So You Want to Build a Zombie: Your Creation and You, a Bonding Experience.

“I dunno that that’s true,” sighed Brand, daring to return eye contact. His vigilance had waned somewhat as it became apparent no one else had interest in this section. “She made you a citizen -- an’ there was no reason she had to do that. Are there all that many vampires livin’ there? Maybe no one’s brought it up…” Books began pile up in the Catalian’s arms. That last one earned a skeptical frown. “So, er, I know this sorta dark magic isn’t my thing, but… you think a book on zombies is gonna tell you how to get rid of Lemoncakes?”

“As far as I know, it’s just Pilar and I, and apparently zhat damned vampire from zhe Larket fight has been roaming about here too.” A faint growl surfaced, but she managed to quell it rather quickly and temper the irritation that flared. “Ayras lived here too, vas even apart of Hildegarde’s royal guard or some such, according to her memories. First time I ran into zhat idiot, she--he at zhe time--vas on patrol. But, of course, she’s quite dead now.” There was a muttering of gods-thanking beneath her breath as one last book on various dark ritual components was pilfered and set atop the stack before she took it from Brand finally. “I told you, I’m here for more zhan just zhat. Larewen’s zhe leader of zhe necromancers guild and an utter failure at it and being a teacher, so I’m gonna have to teach myself. Zhere’s a reason vhy I got zhis job in zhe first place; it’s because zhere are no other necromancers in Frostmaw to deal vith zhos ghosts. And if I’m gonna learn, I’m gonna learn it all.” She sets off towards the nearest table, dropping the books onto it with a thud. Khitti assumes bookworm mode fairly quickly as she opens up the spell component tome, pulls a notebook and pencil out from within one of the many pockets in her coat, and starts writing things down. They were probably going to be there for awhile.

Brand trailed behind with watchful eyes and a pensive frown. She settled in for long hours of studying and eventually he, too, picked up one of the books and began leafing through it. Divination. Curses. Sacrifice and shadows and the summoning of dark spirits. “Huh. Well, I can see why this was somethin’ I wasn’t taught,” Brand mused, laying his book upon the table and twisting it around to face Khitti. The pages he’d turned to revealed a complex diagram, detailing the degree of personal sacrifice necessary to cast a number of particularly unsavory curses. “ ‘All of it,’ peach? Is that… wise?” Far be it from Brand to suffer from some moral quandary; this was more a question of the cost incurred. The worst of these involved sacrificing one’s senses, one’s children, or the remainder of one’s lifespan. Some differed based on what other methods were incorporated into the ritual. Others held their costs static -- no matter one’s power, what other reagents they could acquire, or any other variable, the caster was still expected to pay some personal price.

Khitti paused in her writing, her brows furrowed, and those lips of hers twisted into a frown. Was it wise? She looks up at Brand, studying him and the book quietly for a moment, before shifting her attention back down at the growing list of herbs on the paper she’d been scribbling on. “Yes. All of it.” A pause. “It may not be vise, but...it’s necessary.” She wasn’t even sure of that either, but what else could she say? He’d likely make her quit her research before she’d even really started if she’d said otherwise. Not much more was written down before she went on to the next book. This one too had quite a bit on all things shadowy and soon after finding that section, she exclaimed ‘aha!’ in quite the excited manner. “Look! It’s my shadowfire!” She handed over the book, then leaned over the table to point at the pictures on the page of the magic described and drag her finger across it to follow along with the words, “ ‘Dark Fire and Dark Ice, also known ‘The Dark Elements’, are artificially created thermal magicks and are an extension of shadow magic. Zhey are not associated vith any of zhe Natural Elements, such as zhose zhat are used by druids and elemental mages.’ “ The redhead blinks a few times, “Dark Ice. Zhat explains zhe ice you saw after you got me out of zhe cave.”

‘Necessary.’ The word rolled around in Brand’s head a while. Was it, really? And regardless, would arguing about it change anything? The Catalian studied her as she continued scribbling her notes. She flashed the page on dark elements before him, and still the thoughts churned. “Fascinating,” he murmured half-heartedly, skimming the first few paragraphs. ‘Necessary,’ hmph. Brand slowly turned the book back to her, maintaining his grip on its pages. “Listen, kiwi...” His eyes bored holes into her cranium, searching for the right words. Words that would get through to her. Words that would trump ‘necessary.’ There was hope behind that word of hers, hope written on her face. All these months he’d known her, had he seen hope there? Certainly, he’d seen her despair before, several times. Too much. Too often. But hope? Brand sighed, shook his head. “Jus’... keep me in the loop with all this, yeah?” The book was relinquished to her care again.

Her head tilted somewhat as she listened to him, that half-heartedness not eluding her. And then he sounded like he cared? What? Before he can retract his hand entirely from the book, she snatches it up carefully, softly and gives a brief, hesitant glance around to make sure no one was watching them before she pressed a kiss to his fingers. She’d release him just as quickly and reclaim her seat, taking up the book again. “I vill.” Khitti smiled at Brand--much like that hope that was rarely seen, the expression on her face genuine like she actually was happy--then looked down at the book again, reading more about those elements that came with the shadows, “Everything’s going to be fine. -I’m- gonna be fine.” The vampiress turns the page, eyes still on the text. “How are ve going to tell Dominic? Do you vant to be zhe one to do it? Zhis isn’t exactly something I can hide.”

Brand merely blinked at that kiss, his eyebrows knitting together slightly. “I’ll handle the kid. Shouldn’t be too difficult. He’s not any more fond of that gorram butterfly than the rest of us, y’know?” Brand cast his eyes to the table as he thought Dominic’s likely reaction through. Someone had scratched ‘G + M were here’ into one of the corners and wrapped a heart around the etching. Curious. “I imagine he’ll be wary of you learnin’ anything more of necromancy than you absolutely need to. It’s some nasty business. But… all depends on how you use it, really. It’s not like it’ll be much of a surprise. Lydia mentioned somethin’ about you havin’ necromancer abilities and holdin’ yourself back from your potential months ago, as I recall.”

Khitti’d gotten lost in that book of hers again, her left hand holding down the pages while the right’s slender fingers danced about carefully, a new spell found and practiced. Nothing happened for a few minutes and Brand almost went unheard, a delayed “Mmhmm. I promise to use zhe forces of evil and death only for good.” said eventually. After a few more tries, the flames of the candles on the table begin to flicker. Still with her nose in the book, she doesn't notice as a small cloud of shadows forms along her fingertips. The redhead mutters the incantation to herself, over and over again, committing it to memory. The cloud reappears again, taking on a more solid form, a condensed ball of shadow whose black, purple, and green hues swirled about like water and glitter in a snowglobe.

“Uh huh,” shot back Brand, lips twisting slightly upward. “Very convincing. I’m sure the kid’ll be happy to take you at your word, with that tone.” As the candles began their flickering, Brand cast his sight around the room once more, still expecting someone to interfere at any moment. “But it’s odd that there’s no supervision over the books here, don’tcha think?” These words came hushed, not quite nervous but definitely guarded. “Knowin’ Lithrydel, I’m sure all manner of unsavory types have pursued power in tomes like this before. You’d think they’d be locked away, only able to be studied by some archmage or somethin’. But no one’s yet come by, and…” His gaze fell now to the shadowy glitter orb. “I’m sure -someone- here must sense you doin’ that.”

“Zhese are beginner books. Zhere’s a restricted section vith zhe advanced stuff in it. Most of zhe libraries have zhem. Zhis one...Cenril… Too bad I can’t sneak into Larewen’s house vithout her knowing. She’s got a treasure trove of books on zhe dark arts.” Khitti actually sounded quite jealous--she still didn’t have her own library yet, of course. “Vait...Vhat am I doing? I’m just readi--oh.” Having finally looked up, she blinks at the ball in her hand, “It’s so pretty.” She sniffs at it--because that’s what you’re supposed to do with strange magic, right?--and lets out a ‘hmm’. “Zhis smells so familiar...I can’t quite place it.” Another sniff and a narrowing of her eyes to study it. “It...smells…like...acid?” All of a sudden a cheshire-like grin appears and those dark eyes of hers light up, “I know exactly vhat you are now.” The ball floats between both of her hands as she attempts to push and pull it, stretching it as if it were putty.

Brand knew exactly what that was now, too. He pushed his chair a tad further away from the table and leaned back away from it. “Ah. Careful with that, now.” She didn’t need to be told, of course not. But Brand had seen what her old acidic balls had been capable of, and didn’t fancy getting dissolved alive from some freak accident. “You should test that somewhere. Outside.”

“Aw, Brand. You’re no fun.” Khitti pouts, stretching the ball thin like a frisbee before allowing it to retake its original shape. “Vhat...are you scared or something? It’s just a bit of shadows. Shadows can’t hurt you, silly.” She was joking, of course, and taunting him with that grin that’d reappeared once her pouting had finished. Shadows definitely could hurt you, she knew that all too well. “Fine, fine, you baby. Let’s go to zhe park zhat’s nearby. It’s not exactly been bustling and crazy like it used to be since zhose bodies and blood fell from zhe sky. Can’t imagine vhy.” Yes, much like Pilar, she remembered that evening quite vividly, it just hadn’t been very scarring for her. The ambush afterwards, well, that had left a scar--one of the physical sort, anyway. She waves the ball away, the shadows shifting to smoke and rising up into the air as she gathers all of the books she’d picked out, then headed for the door.