Chapter 5: Emi Runs Away
Calythé screamed and sat bolt upright in bed. Ramisse burst into her room, with Monavelle behind, rubbing her eyes.
"What HAPPENED?" shrieked Ramisse. Monavelle yawned and massaged her temples, looking uninterested.
"Something bad has happened. I had a dream vision," said Calythé, swinging her legs around to the edge of the bed and standing up. "Let's go out into the main room."
They shuffled out into the main room, still wearing their nightgowns, and sat on their cushions. "In my vision, I saw the ruby-strength magician Embrea Holt, the headmistress of the Magicians' Guild," said Calythé.
"One of the Ageless Ones," breathed Monavelle, suddenly more awake. "The original founder of the guild. I heard she's almost a hundred years old."
"Well, apparently not so ageless anymore. I saw her fighting Cthulhu in a clearing."
"The brain or the eye?" said Ramisse with concern.
"Neither. It was his giant incarnate. She fought until she was weakened, and then four recruits came storming out of the guild: an emerald-strength, a sapphire-strength, a topaz-strength and the diamond-strength Thunder Zevulon," said Calythé. "They killed the incarnate, but it aged Embrea dramatically. She is in a terrible condition."
"Do we know what this means?" said Monavelle.
"Yes," said Calythé. "It means it's time to go pay the guild a visit."
Emi and Saffa were sitting out in the dining hall with their staves, summoning green and blue fireworks. This had used to be their favorite game, but now they only halfheartedly summoned the bursting flowers and glittering trails. A deep gloom had settled over the guild. Topaz refused to eat, Emi's green hair was matted and tangled, and Saffa rarely came out of his room before lunchtime. Thunder sat next to Embrea's bed day and night, never leaving her side to eat or sleep. His eye, usually vicious, held a tender sadness as he stroked Embrea's withered hand. Embrea was like the mother the other magicians never had. Without her guidance, the guild became a dump. Even bookish Emi wished she could have Ametha back, if only to get in trouble and have some fun.
As Emi fired a green missile at the dark blue bubble hovering over her head, a knock sounded on the great door and she rushed to open it. On the other side of the door were Alalia and Kathy, the nurse and dryad from the next town over. They had come to try healing Embrea.
"Come on in, follow me and I'll show you where she is," said Emi. The three of them ran to Embrea's room. She lay in her bed, pale and wan, her flesh soft and wrinkled instead of smooth and taut over her cheekbones. The skin of her hands was nearly transparent, and the three young women could see every vein and bone. Embrea's breathing was labored and wheezy. Her hair had changed color, from bright red to pale pink. Thunder sat next to her, as always, looking thin and tired, a dark circle under his one eye.
Embrea opened her eyes as Kathy the nurse approached her. Her normally vibrant red eyes were hooded with cataracts and were now a milky pink color. First she turned her head to Thunder. "Plantera's Bulb, Thunder, I'm not going to die yet. Go have something to eat and then take a nap," she wheezed, with obvious concern. Thunder closed his eye and bowed his head, then he got up and went to the kitchens. Emi watched him go with longing.
Then Embrea turned her head to Kathy. "Try your best, but I'm too old for this. I'm almost a hundred years old."
Kathy lifted the fragile hand and felt Embrea's pulse. "Well, Madam Holt, from what I can understand you were in perfect health for a woman of your age."
"I am an Ageless One," murmured Embrea. "I was supposed to stay young forever."
"Remarkable," breathed Kathy. "Maybe your encounter with Cthulhu negated your immortality. Alalia? What do you think?" she asked, turning to the dryad.
"That's probably what happened," said the dryad in a silvery voice. "Perhaps Cthulhu infected you with his essence. Shall I try purification powder?"
"You can certainly try," Embrea said, with an effort. Alalia took a pinch of powder from a small blue sack and sprinkled it over Embrea's thin form. However, while the cataracts did clear from Embrea's eyes and some of the color crept back into her hair, she remained exactly the same. Emi felt a lump rising in her throat and ran to her quarters, green tears forming in her eyes. She picked up her staff and a few supplies, snuck out to the entrance hall, glanced around her, and slipped outside as noiselessly as a shadow. Then she strapped her staff to her back and ran.