A week with Sally the Sorceress, or as she encourages Sally the Benevolent, was enlightening. She was able to fill in a lot of gaps in Trowa's past that the Prince was unaware of himself, not to mention a lot of embarrassing anecdotes. However, the odd thing about Sally was that she always volunteered information inconsistently.
Additionally, we both learned the details of Trowa's father's death. It appeared that there was an assassination attempt on the King. Apparently, the first attempt was sloppy. A few drops of undiluted Mandrake venom was placed in the King's evening wine. In very fine detail, we were informed that the poison kills its victims in seconds with no residual trace of itself. However, the would-be-killer was foolish to let undiluted venom settle for so long, as it ate away the solid gold cup. (1)
Afterwards, Sally the Court Sorceress, was given the responsibility of guarding His Majesty from further assassins, and she became Sally the King's Sorceress. It was a very ingenious move appointing a sorceress as a right-woman guard. A magic user's sense is highly acute, and they have the ability to identify harmful substances with a mere glance; at least that was what I was told.
Retaining the position for six years, she gained the trust of every official in the castle. However, the King's half brother, Lord Dekim, belittled her abilities around every corner. "He hated me before we even met, and the man made me sick to my stomach."
Time passed, and the King's degrading health did not go unnoticed by the court and especially not by the Sorceress. She had been quickly demoted when she could not find what was ailing the King. Every healer in the region was called, and everyone of them had been quickly dismissed.
Sally had to watch from afar, as her King and friend slowly degraded from a proud monarch to a feeble and frail man. She compared it to the wilting of a particularly lovely rose.
"Sssoo," commented the snake. "He wasss ill; no one could help that." He was curled around us in the only building large enough to accommodate him, the barn.
Sally revealed, "He wasn't sick. Trowa, I know you had a distant relationship with the king, I was there, but show at least a little concern for your own father."
"I can't change my heart for you Sssally; the man meant nothing to me," he revealed.
I turned my head to Sally. Cryptically, she responded, "And that's what's going to make it so hard."
The voice inside my head prompted me to intervene. "Excuse me Miss Sally, but what's going to be so hard?"
"Nothing," she dismissed. Arguing with her was like moving a mountain. It was only by her good graces alone that she volunteered information. I was no fool; a sorceress would never bend to the will of a kid like me.
She continued as if the pause in conversation never occurred. "He wasn't ill. It was only after his death that it was discovered that he was being slowly poisoned, and by the same method as before, Mandrake venom. Except it was diluted and delivered in small doses on a daily basis." I turned to Trowa, but he didn't even bat an eyelash. I watched the emotions play on the Sorceress's face. Anger radiated from her entire being. Just like her smile, that anger was reserved for one person. "Dekim Barton," she spat, "wasted no time in pointing out the accused. The servant girl was hung for second-degree murder, while I was exiled for conspiring against the crown." I felt Trowa's mixed feelings quiver like a ripple in the air. The surrounding environment just got colder.
Confusion settled in. "Why weren't you executed?" I asked curiously.
"They're no fools; the only way to kill a sorceress is with an even more powerful sorceress, unless they preferred being fried," she exclaimed. I did not miss the use of sorceress instead of the more commonly used male form of sorcerer. "Basically, Dekim wanted me out of the way, and he didn't have the time or resources to kill me. So he used his third rate warlock to put a Exile Mark on me. I can't enter the kingdom, even if I wanted to."
"You mean Tsubarov. That man wasss asst ssskilled asst a frog. How could he have exiled you." Sally's eyes shifted to him coldly.
"An Exile Mark requires little skill, and only the correct incantation. It's flawless in its design, as the recipient is incapable of removing the mark herself," she defended. The honey-haired woman twisted her back to us, and lowered her shirt to reveal a lightly tan shoulder blade. It had a pure black mark resembling the horns of a bull. Green fabric once again covered the mark.
"Now," she continued. "Can you guess why Dekim would want to get rid of a Sorceress, who's only real loyalty was with his brother?"
Quickly, I answered, "He wanted you out of the way." I regretted my haste. In the past, I was never encouraged to volunteer answers, and I always found myself insecure of my resolve.
"Exactly," she agreed. "But why? Why did his warlock find the poison only after the King was good and dead? Why did he accuse the only person capable of identifying the assailant?"
"Because of Trowa," I said with little thought; however, Trowa didn't appear bothered by the remark. I sighed, as I peered into his eyes, half-lidded and dulled. His form was relaxed like a huge green throw rug. Wasn't he in the least bit upset?!
He commented, "I figured asst much."
Sally rose an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"I've had plenty of time to think about it," he confided.
"That you were the target all along?" she revealed. "The King's death and set-up were all an elaborate scheme to get the two people who presented the most obstacle out of the way." So this was nothing more than a dispute over the throne: an innocent servant executed, a woman was exiled from her homeland, and a boy was transformed into a monster. How could those actions ever be justified?!
"I suspected as much when I found out that Dekim Barton was the one who appointed me as the King's Sorceress," she said with a casual wave of her hand. Trowa lifted his head and stared blankly at her. "It was odd that the man who belittled by abilities was the one who recommended them... Can anyone say, 'set up'?"
"It wasst all...a sset up?" he wondered. "Everything?"
"Yep, you, me, the girl, everything was played out from the beginning to create an obtacle free path for himself. He wanted the throne for his own, and he wanted you out of the way. Although, having you turned into a snake was slightly unorthodox and risky," the woman said while leaning against the straw pile casually. "However, you did provide the perfect escape goat for your own death. I don't know whether to call him a maniac or a genius."
With honest conviction, I told her, "I would call him a cruel man. Someone like that should not be a monarch."
The woman's lips twitched upwards. "I love to hear bold convictions. However, it's going to take a lot more than honesty and courage to overthrow him. I doubt our little party could do anything about it," her voice reasoned whimsically.
"As soon as you turn Trowa human, we can march right up there and demand his throne back," I reasoned. I turned my head to my snake. He cocked his head in my direction.
"That isn't going to work," Sally warned.
Trowa concured, "It'sss been a couple years. I'm sssure thingss have changed.
It was Sally's turn to give him a blank stare. "Trowa it's been a little over seven years."
I couldn't speak fast enough. Before a single syllable was uttered, the green reptile slithered out of the barn. My lips were still slightly parted in preparation for my protest, when I jumped to my feet.
"Quatre, wait," Sally said after I took my first step. Her words held power over me. Whether it was her persuasive voice or magic that held me in place, I never knew.
"What?"
There was nothing she could say to persuade me to stay much longer. "I have something important to tell you." My foot tapped impatiently against the dirt floor. "I know a way to reverse Trowa's condition..., but you can't tell him (2)."
"Huh?"
"Let me elaborate," she said while she held up her hand. "From what I've gathered, the curse that Trowa's suffering from is Vanity."
"Vanity? I don't think that's his problem," I confessed. How could anyone think highly of themselves when they had their humanity stripped?
"Vanity. The ability of a person to think of themselves as someone entirely different than the world sees them. The Vanity charm is based on self image. It gives the recipient the ability to impose their self image on to their physical form. For instance, if a man thought he was the most glamourous male specimen there was, he might turn into a peackock. The only way to change his form would be to change his perspective on himself. And if a prince believed himself to be cold-blooded...," she explained and let her sentence trail off deliberately. I pretty much got the idea, anyway.
"He still doesn't think of himself as human?" I said with a little pain. Weren't his feelings for me human enough?! I thought about what could be taking his humanity away from him? Seven years being a monster must have been hard. "I wonder if he forgot what it was like to be human."
Sagely, Sally notified, "His condition began long before the spell. Trowa has witnessed horrific inhumane acts. Mankind can be the cruelest." I was reminded of what Trowa told me. They experimented on him and ostracized him, because they didn't believe he was up to their standard of being human. It made me sick, like I swallowed a lot of vile tasting medicine.
"How can I...," my voice echoed softly.
"I think we should go to his homeland," Sally offered. "If not for the crown, then to regain Trowa's faith in his own humanity. However, I don't think I can convince him." The question was left unheard, but it was understood.
"I'll try to talk to him," I assured. I gave her a small polite smile. Although, I questioned my own abilities when it came to persuading the stubborn snake.
I left the sorceress dozing leisurely in the hay, and looking like a misplaced fey creature. I walked in one direction, straight, unrelenting. I knew I would run into the snake if I kept on walking. I could have taken any direction with the same results, because truthfully he would be the one seeking me.
I sat on a very smooth boulder by a small creak. The crackling of the moving water was soothing and eclipsed every other sound in the wood. The only creature I heard was the occasional loud bird.
Steel arms wrapped around my torso. A soft voice greeted, "Hey." Smooth lips graced the ridge of my ear.
Teasingly I asked, "Did you miss me?" Arms tightened securely in response. "Hypothetically, if I ever left..., would you follow me no matter what?" If he was skeptical of my question, he didn't act it.
"Yess," he responded softly Maybe convincing him would be easier than I thought.
(1) Mandrake: No I didn't copy from Harry Potter. Mandrake myths have been around for a while
(2) I was thinking of ending it there. What a perfectly annoying cliffy that would have been!