"Misa? I mean really Misa?" repeated Rasmus in disbelief as they treaded down the hallway. It was a straight corridor that seemed to go on forever. "This woman sews my clothes, makes me soup when I'm sick, bakes for me when I feel down. I can't believe she's a willing participant in this."

"If it makes you feel better, I can't say if she is a willing or unwilling participant," offered Reinhardt. "You may recall my telepathetic powers are not finely honed. I don't get any reflections or emotions from my target. I can basically skim their surface thoughts and images."

"Telepathetic?" chuckled Sylgja.

"Aye, emphasis on the pathetic. I believe it is an apt description," shrugged Reinhardt. "I'm hardly an Illithid or an Aboleth, my powers over the mind are limited."

"So what's the plan?" asked Sylgja. "Do we play it safe and subdue her immediately? She's a Halfling so she's small, I bet a well-placed kick to her face should do it. Or does one of you want to charm her and make her spill her secrets with your silver tongue?"

Rasmus gave the paladin a shocked look. "You want me to lie to her or kick her in the face? She's just an old woman!"

Sylgja shrugged."If she's innocent we can apologize later. If she's in on this, I bet she has something up her sleeve, better take her out while we have the initiative."

"Can I just talk to her straight?" pleaded Rasmus. "No deception, no kicking. She's an old friend, I owe her that much."

"If that is your prerogative,"said Reinhardt.

"Thank you."

"I still think we should lead with a kick to the head," grumbled Sylgja.

Rasmus waved them silent as the passage changed from a stone corridor to a homier one with wooden racks and large intricate rugs used as both floor and wall decorations. Ancient dusty books and grimoires, bottles of various size and colours littered the shelves and strange curios similar to the ones Rasmus kept in his room were placed randomly on various pedestals and end tables. What was more ominous were the jars. Hundreds of large green jars, filled with formaldehyde, pickling liquids, and other bizarre cordials. Inside the jars were small creatures, hearts and organs of animals, fetuses of various species, and other things too strange to describe.

"This is the source of all your good memories in this tower?" asked Sylgja.

"This isn't how I remember it. I don't recall the creepy stuff in the jars. The décor was more farmer's market than evil necromancer the last I visited this place," admitted Rasmus as they ventured further into the infirmary. The place seemed to grow with each step they took. Shelves and displays were placed haphazardly (or perhaps) strategically until they formed a maze of books and bottles.

At last they made it to the center of the infirmary. It was a small clearing amongst the arcane clutter. It had half a dozen beds neatly lined up. Next to them was a small cauldron with a pile of exotic reagents piled up, and a small cage hung from a chain on the roof, crammed with a creature that Rasmus couldn't identify. Standing before all of this was Old Misa, the Halfling cook and healer of the Tower. She had an old smock on with several brown stains on it, and her hair was tied back with a red silk scarf. Her old eyes were narrow, and it was hard to tell if she was looking at you, but she sported a wide broad smile.

"Ahh, Reinhardt. You've returned, and with the young master like you said you would," smiled Misa in a soft gravelly voice.

"I don't trust her," whispered Sylgja. "It's still not too late to kick her."

Rasmus hushed her as he approached alone. "I'm glad to see you alright Misa."

"Those silly maids were pretty useless. I should have known better than to trust them."

At the mention of maids, the small cage squealed and moaned. Misa simply took a nearby poker and jabbed the cage a few times, evoking a few sobs before it fell silent. Rasmus glanced up and still couldn't identify what was in it, but he did spot a lock of long curly blonde hair falling from the bars."Vandia?" he said with a gulp.

The cage simply whimpered too scared to respond.

"Oh, don't worry about her," said Misa. "She's been bad and just needs to be taught a lesson."

Despite his former maid being a creature worse than a Succubus, Rasmus did not believe what was happening to her, and he didn't approve of it either. He wanted to protest but he recalled the struggle they had with her the last time and only guessed at the power that Misa possessed.

"So, you made it all the way down here, summoned not only an Ice Devil but the Tactician of Stygia, defeated my maids, and even charmed a paladin to boot. Well done my boy."

Rasmus could hear Sylgja bristle at her remark.

"I did, and I need your help now. I'm wounded, drained, leeched, whatever you want to call it. It's a curse drawing on my body both physically and mentally. It's pretty bad and I feel it getting worse."

Misa sighed. "I see that. It pains me to see you suffer so. Of all Leto's ascendants, I liked you the best."

"Ascendants? There's more of me? I don't understand."

Misa shrugged. "I suppose you need an answer, especially considered what has happened to you. You will have all the answers soon enough, but maybe this will make your transition easier. It all began on an expedition, an adventure if you like to Sigil, the city of Portals. I know, I know, the magicians now like to go to Axis to impress the commoners, but back in the day Sigil was literally the center of the universe. Leto and his friend Kasmir both heard of some secret, an old parchment with the secrets of immortality on it…. "

"Is it the painting in the library? Is it the source of the curse draining me?"

"Painting? What painting? Oh, that old thing? No, that's just a trinket Leto created that showed his current state. It's quite mundane actually. As I was saying, the parchment was sold was from an old civilization, perhaps Azlanti or perhaps from the time of the Wind Dukes; I cannot say for that is not my specialty. Kasmir searched for it in Sigil, while Leto tracked it down to …."

"Torch! He found it in Torch."

Misa frowned. "It seems you know this story already."

Rasmus lowered his head. "I'm sorry for interrupting, please continue."

"No, no. There's no need. You know the story better than I do, or at least you will soon."

"Please. I don't understand."

Misa approached Rasmus slowly and held his hand firmly. "Dear boy, you always were my favorite. Always so polite," she said as she pulled him down to his level. "As Reinhardt no doubt already told you, you and Leto now share a soul. An ancient spell which was used to make peace between two enemies, by literally making them into one greater being. They would not only share in each other's knowledge but share in their strength and vigour as well. For how can you wage war on an enemy that not only knows what you know but feels what you feel? How could you wage war on yourself?"

"It was an effective if archaic system, that is until someone found a way to brend the rules. Souls aren't always equal, one can be as small as a drop of water or as great as an ocean. It's naturally assumed that this ritual would bind two similar souls, for why would they be rivals if they couldn't challenge or push each other, but some ancient schemer discovered that binding a strong soul to a weak soul would leave the strong soul mostly intact and the weak one …well the best way I could put it is buried. Doing so didn't create a super being, but it did have the side effect of prolonging one's life if one of the bodies was young. "

"I'm being drained by Master Leroung to extend his life?" asked Rasmus who already know the answer. He glanced at his skeletal hands, and felt his gaunt face. He had already lost.

"I'm sorry but yes," said Misa sadly. "You were chosen because of your similar appearance and your strength, and we've educated you as best we could to add to Leroung's knowledge, but all he mainly wants is your youth. I'm sure you've gained some of his power in return, but you've tasted his curse. The more you use your magic the more you are ensnared like a daemon in a Piscoloth trap."

Reinhardt nudged Sylgja, who grumbled something about lobsters.

"The transfer would have been complete by now, but jealous old Kasmir had to bring his reclamation friends to the tower. I suspect a spy, or perhaps a lucky divination on his part. Regardless, it was bad timing considering they did so while Leroung was at his weakest during the merging. As you know the wards were thrown up, and the guardians released, but somehow you wandered free, despite my best efforts," she said as she jabbed the cage again.

"So what now? " asked Rasmus.

"Well, I guess the charade is over and I have to set things right," sighed Misa. She beckoned Rasmus closer, and when he complied, swift as a snake she stabbed him through the heart with a black dagger.