There's still no progress with the Chain Veil. Her options, ideas and patience are running thin. For the night she's given up, settling for a hot bath and several glasses of absinthe. Or rather several bottles. By the time she makes her way back to her bedchambers she's part of the way through her third bottle. Her mind is slowly being put at ease, and she's started to grow a bit tired. She sits at her ornate vanity to brush out her dark, damp locks. Atop her vanity is a variety of bottles; some of which are simple perfumes or oils while others are more in the realm of potions. There's three mirrors. The largest is in the middle with a skinnier mirror on each side, giving her the perfect view from all angles.
There's a pause in her motions, taking a final swig from the bottle of green liquid before placing it on the wooden surface right beside the blasted Chain Veil. By now the alcohol has taken effect. She's not drunk. That's what she tells herself anyways. Close to it but the buzz is quick to wear off, leaving behind a sluggish feeling. Little attention has been given to her actual reflection. That is until she's had to struggle with a particularly tangled section. A light glare is reflected back at her while she work to carefully resolve the issue with little frustration. She glances away for a moment to look down at the problem area. It doesn't take too much more effort till she's able to once again easily run her fingers through that section of hair. Her body freezes when faced with her reflection. Except the image she sees is not her. Not her pretty, youthful self that is. No, the image she sees is the one she so despised waking up to back in her 70's and 80's before her petition of her demon masters. Hair is white as cobwebs. Her skin looks thin as paper. Wrinkles of all kinds mar her features while dark rings paint her under eyes. In some places her bones are easily seen through the vein of fragile flesh. Even her eyes look a bit sunken in. This is the image of her when she could easily feel death's embrace growing closer.
"What sort of trick is this?" Liliana hisses. Angrily she turns away to look around the room. She's expecting to see that Raven Man looming about with a smug look on his face. But there is nothing. Not only is he visibly absent, but for once he's not verbally running her down. No taunts or teases. No haughty anecdotes or unsolicited advice. Absolutely nothing. With a huff, she turns back around and the sight she sees this time causes her heart to stop. Panicked terror washes over her. It feels like she can hardly breath. Looking back at her with milky, dead eyes is a rotted figure. Flesh barely covers some areas, hanging loosely and looking as if it will fall off at any moment. From the nose up, she recognizes her face. Maggots wriggle out of one of her ears. Below that her jaw hangs exposed, the skin above it hanging in tatters while only a few bits of meaty, decayed muscle cling to her jaw bone. She moves her mouth the slightest and a centipede crawls it's way out and across her face. That's not even the worst of it. Her guts hang out of her abdomen in a knotted mess, dripping with some sort of dark ooze while the flesh over her ribs is sunken in. Her arms are hardly anything but rotted muscle and bone.
"No!" she screams out. "No, no no! This isn't real!" Liliana stands up in a forceful rush, causing her stool to fall over with a loud bang.
Heavy footsteps come to a halt outside of her door, followed by a knock. "Mistress, are you alright? Yelling was heard. Came to check to see if everything was okay." Granted, it wasn't out of the ordinary for the lady of the house to raise her voice or lose her temper. In fact if such a thing didn't happen on occasion, that would be a sign of something being wrong.
Liliana whips her gaze over to the door, glowering at it. "I'm fine!" she snaps. Her erratic breathing has started to calm down. Hearing Gared's voice has helped anchor her back into reality. Her heart still pounds against her chest.
"Do you need a another bottle, Miss? Or perhaps anything else?"
She glances back to the vanity, relieved that her reflection is back to normal. Seconds later her eyes turn towards the half full bottle. Perhaps it was best to stop for the night. With a sigh she sets the stool back up and moves towards the door, yet she doesn't open it. "Water. A large glass of it. And an extra sheet."
"Right away, Miss." The sound of footsteps growing fainter indicate that Gared as has left with his task. No more than thirty minutes later does the hunched-back human return with her requested items. "Here we are, madam." Goblet of water is placed on her beside side table. She gulps it down in a flash. He starts to place the extra sheet on her bed yet she stops him.
"Cover up the mirrors." Liliana commands, moving a few well worn, lit candles off of the surface of the vanity lest an unfortunate situation occurs. When the task is completed she dismisses him. Her pacing comes to a stop and at last she can sleep. However, she sleeps on the side of the bed farthest from the looking glass. She's careful about the position she settles into, making she her back is not turned to it nor that it will be easily within her line of sight. Sleep comes quicker than she expected, filled with empty dreams.
Perhaps she needs to take it easy on the booze for a while. Surely, that's what the issue was.