13. Source, Sunshine, and Stories

"Ah, it feels marvelous to be at full power again," Lorelai sighed happily. She flexed her fingers, delighted by the Source humming through her body, and resisted the urge to cast her spells just because she could. "Over a month without Source was more taxing than I had anticipated."

"A month?" Ifan asked, rubbing his neck where the Source collar had been. "I had that on for less than three weeks."

"Likewise," Sebille said. "As necessary as it was, it feels wonderful to get out of that collar."

"I suppose I was captured before the two of you, then," Lorelai mused. "They put the collar on me and placed me in a dreadful little cage. I sat there for a good week before the magisters shuffled me onto their ship, and we stopped at the Reaper's Coast a few days later."

"Oh, I only spent a day in one of those damned cages," Ifan said with a sympathetic glance to her. "I'd hate to have sat there for so long."

"As someone who does not grow terribly uncomfortable or require sustenance," Lorelai said, "the most I suffered was the utter boredom. I had some interesting conversations with the rats and such, at least."

"I did not allow the magisters to cage me," Sebille said darkly. "I simply walked to the magisters before they cast off, declared myself a sorcerer, and allowed myself to be escorted onto their ship. I had tracked my prey to Fort Joy, so that was where I needed to be."

"I was there for my contract," Ifan said. "I did the same thing as Sebille, but because I need to kill Alexander. Where were you?"

"Silverleaf Forest," Lorelai replied. All she received were questioning looks. "Farther north," she clarified. "East of Verdistis. I was simply wandering through the forest when I was set upon by magisters and crossbow-wielding Source Hounds. I allowed them to take me captive and am glad I did so. It has been quite an interesting journey thus far."

"You did not fight capture even though you had nothing to do in Fort Joy?" Sebille inquired with an eyebrow raised. "I did not think you so meek, darling."

Lorelai laughed and grinned at Sebille. "I have been hunted before," she explained, "and I find that it is far less troublesome to allow oneself to be captured than to spend one's days on the run. You agree, do you not?" she inquired innocently.

Sebille looked surprised, but the expression lasted barely a heartbeat before it was replaced by a smirk. "True enough, darling," she said. "True enough."

"It is rather amusing," Lorelai added with another laugh, "that the magisters think so highly of themselves when I am the only one out of the three of us who was taken against her will. Even then, I could have evaded capture had I chosen to do so. Perhaps these magisters are not the almighty Source hunters they think they are."

"The Divine Order's gotten far more arrogant since Lucian passed," Ifan grunted. "It is not a positive change."

"Mm, they do seem to be trying to emulate Braccus Rex in many ways," Lorelai murmured thoughtfully to herself. She leaned back on her hands, staring up at the stars in the dark sky as a chilly wind whisked across her skin. "I spoke to the sentry earlier," Lorelai revealed, "and she informed me that the magisters were here to recover artefacts and rituals of Braccus Rex, and then we met those cursed necromancers…" Lorelai hummed softly and mulled over the implications of the magisters dabbling into Braccus Rex's experiments. "Braccus Rex did many horrific things to those with Source," she finally said. "The Silent Monks and Watchers result from a Source purge recovered by Braccus Rex, and…"

Lorelai hesitated once more as she wondered if she ought to explain some of her fears to her companions. She did not want to frighten them for no reason, but she decided that they deserved to be able to prepare for the worst. She often underestimated the resilience of living creatures, and this sense of entitlement she had was something she had struggled with even while alive. She had to remind herself that she did not necessarily know better than others. She did not have the right impose her beliefs on others.

"Braccus Rex used to crucify sorcerers and infect their minds to attack other sorcerers, killing them and taking their Source." Lorelai shuddered as she remembered the evidence of such experiments. "He trapped souls and locked them in vaults, he tortured his allies and enemies alike, he enslaved the Undead, he massacred entire cities just for the Source—all to built an empire founded on terror and destruction. I am not often fearful for my own destruction, but I remained in hiding during most of that man's reign. If the magisters are attempting to reimplement his methods, then…"

Lorelai clenched one hand into a fist and felt her nails dig into her palm accompanied by a sharp, unfamiliar sting on her skin. She tightened her grip. The sensation helped her focus.

"I do not wish to witness more senseless mass graves caused by arrogant fanatics who know not the power they are attempting to harness," Lorelai implored her companions. "The elves were already massacred from the highly dangerous Deathfog"—Ifan closed his eyes for a moment at that reminder—"and the sorcerers seem to be next. Braccus Rex was sick and selfish." She took a deep breath before she succumbed to the simmering fury rising in her gut. "Histories do not do his cruelty justice," Lorelai said with soft tranquility. "We must not allow the magisters to fiddle with such things."

"Just one more reason to kill Alexander," Ifan said with a lighthearted smirk. "We'll keep these magisters in line, Lorelai. Don't you worry."

"I do hope so," Lorelai murmured, but she knew the problem was far deeper than Bishop Alexander. With a sigh, Lorelai gazed at her palm and the marks her fingernails had made in the skin. Her palm still stung strangely, so she waved it about to throw away the insistent tingling. It did not work. "I must say," Lorelai began distractedly, "that, although I am enjoying this mask, some of these sensations are less than pleasant. Pain, I suppose. I had… forgotten about it."

"Then you are more lucky than you realize," Sebille said from beside Lorelai. She was staring at the marks on Lorelai's palm as well, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Perhaps," Lorelai agreed diplomatically. She waved her hand about again, trying to get used to the sight of tanned flesh covering her beloved bones. "I do much prefer my true appearance," she lamented. "It is a shame that I must hide it constantly."

"Small-minded creatures abound," Sebille said lazily. She stretched out on her back and gazed up at the sky. "The world is vast," she commented in a softer voice. "Why are its inhabitants so… exclusive?"

"Everyone has their personal worlds, dear one," Lorelai replied in a comforting tone. Sebille turned her head to study Lorelai impassively, so Lorelai smiled with a gentle warmth. "Such worlds can be physical or mental, but they are all frightening to leave behind. I myself seem to have been in my own world for too long."

"I only just escaped mine," Sebille murmured, "and yet I'm still…" She sighed and turned away again. "Physical or mental," she recited, "or, perhaps, both."

Lorelai nodded and ventured to give Sebille a soft pat on the head. Sebille inhaled quickly but did not move away or object. From the momentary touch, Lorelai was delighted to discover that Sebille's hair was just as soft as it looked. She smiled at her hand for a few moments, relishing the texture, and closed her eyes so that she could enjoy the chilly breeze of the night.

"You all ought to get some rest," Lorelai said softly. "I shall keep watch."

Ifan yawned, easily descending into sleep, but Sebille's cat-like eyes glinted in the darkness for many more minutes before she eventually rolled on her side with a deep breath. Lorelai sat in silence for a few hours but was distracted by Sebille's occasional twitches and furious hisses that implied rather intense nightmares. Hoping she was not crossing a line, Lorelai cast a spell that would clear Sebille's mind. Sebille relaxed almost immediately, and her breath deepened into a comfortable rhythm. Lorelai smiled and returned to staring at the stars.

xXxXxXx

Sebille awoke feeling more rested than she ever had before. When her eyes fluttered open, she saw a bright blue sky and allowed herself a small smile. Every time she tried to sleep, every time night fell, she retained the nagging worry that she would never see the light again. The light, no matter how alien it was to her still, was her hope, and it was still here.

Sebille wondered if she should return to sleep, as she felt relaxed, content, but a gentle caress upon her head surprised her. She glanced upwards and spotted Lorelai gazing up at the sun with a rapturous expression. Her hand seemed to be tangled in Sebille's hair, massaging her skull with a soft touch.

Sebille shifted slightly, and Lorelai removed her hand. Her face turned to Sebille, a tender smile on her lips. "Did you sleep well?" she inquired.

Sebille narrowed her eyes and sat up. "Why do you ask?" she said suspiciously.

Lorelai's expression turned sheepish, and she gave Sebille one last motherly pat on the head before folding both hands in her lap. "I… cast a small spell to clear your mind," she admitted. "I shall not do so again if you consider it an invasion of privacy, but I thought it might help with the nightmares."

Sebille studied Lorelai, trying hard to discern any malice or mockery, but there was nothing but kind warmth in the Undead's gaze. "I do… appreciate the thought," Sebille said hesitantly. "Could you, perhaps, teach me the spell?"

"I may be able to teach you," Lorelai said, "but… one cannot use it on oneself. It must be cast by an individual with inner peace, an individual who does not need the spell at the moment it is cast."

"Ah, a shame," Sebille murmured, and she meant it. She was hesitant to trust another person with her mental state, but she relished her current peace of mind enough that she would take the risk. "I will… accept your aid," she said uncomfortably, "but only if I ask. Don't cast a spell without my knowledge."

Lorelai grinned widely and nodded. "It would be my absolute delight," she replied as though Sebille were the one doing Lorelai the favor. Lorelai hummed happily and poked Ifan on the cheek. He instantly sat up with a snort, a dagger in his hand and a ferocious glint in his eye. "Both of you are so skittish," Lorelai said as she regarded them disapprovingly. "Gracious, you all need a hug and a warm bowl of stew. I do not believe you would appreciate my stew, but I am willing to give everyone a hug."

Sebille and Ifan both stared at her uncomprehendingly, but her sweet smile did not once falter. Apparently taking that as acceptance, Lorelai leaned forward and pulled Sebille into a quick hug that elicited a sharp jolt of surprise. Leaving Sebille dazed, Lorelai made to do the same to Ifan, but she paused as though thinking better of it. Instead, she patted him gently on the cheek. Sebille saw Ifan's face flame, but Lorelai had already turned away. Sebille and Ifan traded a glance, wordlessly communicating identical bafflement.

Lorelai swayed back and forth on the grass between them, a brilliant grin on her face as she closed her eyes and basked in the glow of the morning sun. "I do apologize for the overt affection," she murmured happily, "but I… adore the sunshine. I have been waiting thousands of years to feel the sunshine again. I am so very happy right now…" She trailed off and slowly leaned back until she was fully lying down with a contented sigh.

"Why, out of all things," Sebille asked carefully, "does the sunlight affect you so?"

"One of the fondest memories of my mortal life is of the touch of the sun," Lorelai mumbled sleepily. "I remember lying on the warm grass and feeling at peace, yet I could never replicate the sensation. Until now," she added in a whisper. "Until now…"

Ifan's expression transformed into one of unbridled affection, and he patted Lorelai gently on the hand before standing upright. "Enjoy the sunshine," he told her with a laugh. "I'll find some information on how these people can help get us off this island."

"…Be sure to inquire about Braccus Rex," Lorelai slurred. "I must know of his influence."

"I'll do that," Ifan promised. He winked at Sebille and sauntered away.

Sebille wondered if she ought to leave as well, but she was uneasy surrounded by so many strangers, some of whom were lizards. Ifan she tolerated, but he was still a Lone Wolf, a killer by nature, possibly aware of her capture and enslavement. Lorelai, however, Sebille was beginning to like, to allow through her guard. To trust. Thus, she curled up on the grass herself and tried to follow Lorelai's peaceful example.

"…What is your story, dear one?" Lorelai drowsily interrupted Sebille's attempt at relaxation. "If you wish to tell it, of course."

Sebille remained silent for a long moment, wondering if she ought to pretend to be asleep to avoid answering.

"Sebille," Lorelai called out in a singsong voice. "I know you are awake."

Sebille sighed heavily and opened her eyes to gaze up at the cloudless sky. "First, tell me your story," she stated, deciding to compromise with a barter.

"I have a very long story, dear one," Lorelai laughed. "How detailed would you like me to be?"

"Your choice," Sebille said lazily. "I won't force you to speak of matters you would rather keep to yourself."

"Well," Lorelai began thoughtfully, "the first thing I remember after dying is waking up strapped to a table with a body made of bone that I knew should be covered in flesh. It was utterly terrifying. Then, a strange little human man grew panicked and started babbling at me in a language that I did not speak. I could understand him, thankfully, but he could not understand me. He kept me strapped to the table for a month until he felt so guilty that he released me."

Sebille quietly sat up and inspected Lorelai, surprised to see a small smile on her face. Lorelai looked content, nostalgic, unlike the implications of her words. Perhaps it was simply the sunshine relaxing Lorelai, yet Sebille did remember Lorelai mentioning that she and her necromancer were friends.

"Keep in mind that I was alive and died in the times before elves integrated themselves with humans and other races," Lorelai continued, "and we still spoke our own language. I had spent all of my mortal life seeing only a half dozen humans or so—and nothing of the other races. Verdistis had not yet been constructed, and the forests of my people stretched across the entire region. There were a pair of human settlements within the forest—the village of Silverleaf being one of them—but we rarely came into contact."

"That was a very long time ago, then," Sebille murmured, "though I suppose four thousand years would suffice."

"I may be old," Lorelai said cheekily, "but I am hardly decrepit." She lifted one arm and waved it in the air. "See? All flesh. No bone or rot to be seen."

Sebille chuckled and rolled her eyes. "So," she said briskly, "you awoke to a strange human who had you strapped to a table. And then what happened?"

"Oh, Dominik and I grew to be magnificent friends," Lorelai replied, "and I lived with him for fifty years until he died. I remained in the forest for another decade or so, until I decided to explore the world. I made some friends, but they died rather quickly—as mortals do—or discovered my identity as an Undead and attempted to slaughter me."

"Pleasant," Sebille commented, and Lorelai grinned again though her eyes remained shut.

"Yes, it became troublesome after a time," Lorelai admitted. "I traveled the world for more centuries without doing much socializing. I spent much time in the Elven Homelands…" Lorelai trailed off, her smile fading. After only a moment, however, Lorelai opened one eye and stuck her tongue out at Sebille. "I also visited lizard's empire," she said, "and freed many slaves such as you."

Sebille blinked rapidly and leaned forwards so that she could peer at Lorelai's face. "Truly?" she whispered. "Why have you never mentioned this?"

Lorelai chuckled and closed her eye. "We have known each other for less than a week, dear one," she reminded Sebille. "Even I would have some difficulty recounting my entire lifeless story in such a short time, especially with all the events occurring recently."

"Yes, of course," Sebille said, slightly unnerved by the reminder that she had met Lorelai only days ago. "Go on."

"Mm, yes," Lorelai yawned. "I wandered more and visited other empires. I especially adore the imps. They are a marvelous cultue—their zeppelins and automata are stunning, and they are one of the few cultures who do not mind the Undead. The orcs are another, but they tend to attack on sight indiscriminately." Lorelai hummed under her breath and then sighed softly. "Eventually, I stopped by the lizard empire again," she said, "and remained there until a delightful necromancer captured me and began performing some nasty experiments. He kept me only for two years or so before I escaped, but he was likely the worst captor I have ever had. From there, I retreated to the forests whence I had been resurrected. I have been living there for the past two centuries or so… and now I am here."

"That is interesting," Sebille mused, and Lorelai's lips quirked into another smile. "What made the lizard so much worse than others who captured you?"

Lorelai's pleasant smile instantly disappeared, and she opened both her eyes to stare blankly at the sky. "Well…" Lorelai hesitated. "He… dismembered me," she revealed unhappily. "It is a… disconcerting sensation, being unable to control one's limbs even though I could see them…"

"He dismembered you?" Sebille repeated, a chill running through her.

"He silenced my magic first," Lorelai continued as though in a trance. "He chopped off my head second. While I could do nothing but watch, he carefully pulled apart my skeleton, bone by bone, and studied them all."

"That does sound disconcerting," Sebille acknowledged. "How did you escape?"

"He forgot to refresh his silencing spell once, so I… left." Lorelai's grin returned with a savage intensity that surprised Sebille. "It took some doing, but I eventually managed to reform the basics of my skeleton."

"What happened to your captor?"

"I…" Lorelai hesitated but eventually opened her mouth again. "I mutilated him as he had done me," she confessed in a soft voice.

"That, darling, is a pristine example of justice," Sebille said proudly.

"My methods were… perhaps excessive," Lorelai countered. "I did not feel pain; he did."

"And?" Sebille retorted. "I think he rather deserved it."

Lorelai released a breath very slowly. "Perhaps," she said, "or perhaps not, but there is nothing to be done about it now. I simply must practice restraint. When I lose my temper, I can… take matters too far."

"I might enjoy seeing that," Sebille mused, and Lorelai chuckled, but it seemed forced. "...Now, I suppose I must return the favor with my story," Sebille added with an exaggerated exhale.

Lorelai sat up straight and gazed intently at Sebille, her head tilted to the side so that her hair trailed on the ground. "I would be honored to listen," she said reverently.

"I'm sure you would," Sebille said with a suspicious glance to Lorelai. Lorelai waited patiently, her wide eyes the picture of innocent curiosity, so Sebille hummed under her breath and rested her chin on her hand. "Imagine, if you will, a small room," she began, and Lorelai nodded vigorously. "The room is nothing but darkness with chains binding you to the floor. The room is all you know until your Master lets you out, his voice invading your mind, ordering you to kill. You cannot resist the voice, and so you obey. You hunt only at night, never seeing the sun, not knowing it exists."

A flicker of pain ran through ran through Lorelai's gaze. Sebille was comforted by the reminder that Lorelai knew what a lightless existence felt like, an existence without the sun.

"I never questioned my imprisonment, as I could imagine nothing different," Sebille said, her mind struggling to reconcile her current mentality with that version of herself. "And then, during a hunt, I killed a scholar. He fell forwards, knocking a well of ink onto the empty sheet of paper in front of him. His blood mixed with the ink, and that was when the first thoughts of rebellion began to stir in my mind." Sebille sighed softly as she recalled her first moment of clarity, her first taste of self-awareness. "I dipped my needle into his blood," she continued, "and carved his name into my own skin so that I would remember."

"I understand the feeling," Lorelai murmured. She aimlessly traced the curve of her eye where her crescent moon tattoo would have been on her skull. "How did you escape, dear one?"

"I couldn't, not at first," Sebille explained, that cacophony of emotion rushing through her as though she were living those moments again. "I had no choice but to follow the orders of the Master, but I struggled. I struggled against his voice during the hunt, I strained against my chains in the dark room, but it was all for naught. And then," Sebille breathed, the beauty of that day awing her still, "a chance. It was a simple mistake on the Master's part, a mistake of habit and arrogant oversight. A crack in the prison, a door not completely shut, allowed the slightest glimpse of light, and I hungered for it, I starved for it, I needed it to survive. At that moment, I felt a great surge of power rush through my body to break my restraints. I fled the room and resolved to kill the Master for what he has done to me, what he has forced me to do to so many others."

"I am sorry for what you have suffered, dear one," Lorelai murmured with her head bowed after Sebille's final words disappeared into the breeze. "Thank you for allowing me to share in your burdens and for sharing in mine. I would be proud to aid in your revenge if you ever have need of me."

"And I would offer the same, darling," Sebille said dryly, "had you any revenge to speak of."

"Only if Braccus Rex somehow manages to be resurrected for the, what, second, third time?" Lorelai sighed. "Then, I may require some assistance eradicating him."

"I offer you one favor," Sebille grumbled with faux irritation, "and you ask me to help you kill the all-powerful Source King if he is resurrected? Darling, your enemies are of a high tier."

Lorelai laughed and gazed up at the sky again. "I doubt it will come to that," she said. "I hope that no one would be so idiotic as to resurrect Braccus Rex. Again."

"Yes, well, people are often willing to ignore the mistakes of history because they believe themselves mentally or morally superior."

"Very true," Lorelai agreed softly. "Very true, dear one." With one last smile, she reached out a hand to pat Sebille gently on the cheek. As Sebille attempted to break free of her surprise, Lorelai tipped back onto the ground again and closed her eyes with a contented sigh.

"I…" Sebille hesitated, before rubbing her cheek where Lorelai had touched it. "You have grown rather more… affectionate," Sebille noted.

Lorelai chuckled and lifted a hand to wave it abstractly in the air. "Dominik always observed that I had an insatiable desire to nurse the wounded," she confessed. "He called me a 'mother hen,' and I cannot deny the truth in that. The impulse has only increased with age, I am afraid, and the novelty of touch compels me to initiate physical contact. It is… difficult to resist the urge."

"Mother hen…" Sebille mused. The idea offered a sense of peace without the expectation that she ought to reciprocate in kind, and it made her relax slightly. "I have heard that nostalgia manifests with age," Sebille commented with a wry smile. "I see the same is true for the Undead. Necromancers everywhere would be eager to study such emotions."

Lorelai laughed as she lowered her hand to rest it on her stomach. "It is strange how many creatures expect the Undead to be either incapable of emotion or bitter, hateful creatures. The rest have a strange pity towards us, that we were somehow ripped from our restful death and forced to live an unfulfilling half-existence."

"It is quite clear that you do not feel the same," Sebille observed.

"Yes," Lorelai said, "and those who studied me had an inordinate amount of explanations for why I felt thus."

"Oh? May I hear some examples?"

"I remember many," Lorelai acknowledged. "Some were… because I was resurrected very shortly after my mortal death, because my necromancer was especially skilled, I have been synthetically altered to feel accordingly, I am lying about how I feel, I am being honest but have repressed my true feelings, my lack of emotion induces a sense of acceptance that I have mistaken as happiness, I do not understand the definition of existence, I am of low intelligence, I am a cannibalistic elf, I am female, I have no physical brain, I have no soul, I am a sorcerer, my mortal death was traumatic, my mortal life was traumatic…" Lorelai trailed off, then opened her eyes and pursed her lips in concentration. "I am growing old," she said with a hint of surprise. "There were many more hypotheses, but I am struggling to recall them!"

"I believe you gave sufficient examples," Sebille said dryly. "What is the truth, if I may ask?"

"It is how I feel," Lorelai said simply. "I treasure my time in Rivellon and wish to help others feel likewise."

"But why?"

Lorelai's lips curled into a smile. "I have not the faintest idea," she replied, "but I do know that the kiss of the sun can soothe one's mind, release the tragedies of one's past, and heal one's deepest wounds. That, dear one, is what matters. I hope it gives you the same comfort it gives me."

Sebille stared at Lorelai for a long moment before settling herself onto the soft grass and closing her eyes in another attempt to emulate Lorelai's peace of mind. After over five minutes of nervous hyper-awareness to every single noise in the camp, however, Sebille took a deep breath.

"The spell," she mumbled so quietly that she wondered if Lorelai would even hear.

Without delay, however, Sebille felt a light caress on her head followed by a sensation akin to the full-body relaxation from a warm bath. Sebille smiled just slightly as a sense of tranquility fell over her mind. She was reassured by the fact that she could still hear everything going on in the camp; the littlest noise simply did not inspire tension.

The hand removed itself from Sebille's head, and she allowed the warmth of the sun to soothe her into a shallow sleep.