Tallah

Vergil had no idea what had just happened, or, for that matter, what was happening still. The two women picking him up seemed to regard him as a particularly interesting piece of décor they were taking home.

He would have wanted to ask more about his friends, about what was to happen to him or why they had even paid for his recovery He couldn’t have heard right how much they paid for him. It was ludicrous that they’d hand over more money than most adventurers saw in a lifetime.

He got jostled about, undressed, redressed in new clothes, and sent out in the freezing cold.

It was all happening to someone else and he was just along to watch the show.

Nothing to do but meekly follow along, head tucked between his shoulders in the thick fur lining of his new cloak. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else to do but—

The cold shocked him back into a semblance of reality, and the falling snow stopped him dead down the steps of the hospital. He knew snow existed somewhere. It had featured in some of his Experiences, but was a distant concept that he had never connected to.

Valen was a very different place through the lens of snowfall. Flakes danced in the air and scattered with the wind. They died on his skin and melted into sharp chills that got him shivering.

It finally, somehow slotted into place the fact that he was very far from home; and he wasn’t going back. Home was a distant dream now faded in the grey light and he was lost in the static of the blizzard. His head felt light and full of steel wool.

His new companions noticed they were walking alone and stopped to look back. Vergil tried to catch up, but the wild patterns of falling snow kept snatching up his attention.

“If I understood you correctly,” the scary one said to the other, “his life before was in a large, metal box floating in nothing.”

“He’s never seen weather at all,” the aelir’rei confirmed.

“Helmet-boy,” the scary one called to him, seeming to lose patience. “It won’t stop for the next few days at least. You can watch it all you want when we get somewhere warm. Come on while the storm only looms.”

That snapped him back to himself and he hurried after them, catching up with huffing, steaming breath.

“Your name is Tallah. And you are Adana. Is that right?” he asked.

It didn’t seem right to think of them only in terms of how much they unnerved him. They had, after all, rescued him. The scary woman’s eyes widened and she looked around suddenly, as if worried someone would overhear.

“I’m Sil, actually,” the tall aelir’rei said. “Adana is my Hepius calling. And she’s Tianna. If you’d like to keep your head, I suggest you don’t mention the other name again.”

The threat had been made with such ease and honesty that his cheeks burned. A chill wiggled underneath his clothes and made him shiver.

“Um…I—” He floundered for words. “Miss Sil, I—”

How can I tell her about her sister dying?

It had been on his mind ever since Miss Aliana mentioned the name Adana. He couldn’t find his words as cold tears ran down his cheeks.

“I think I… knew your sister, Miss Sil. I’m sorry. The ratmen. They, uh…”

Sil shrugged and Vergil’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t have a sister. Adana is a Calling, not a family. Whoever you knew, they weren’t related to me more than any other sister of the trade. If I cried for each of us meeting a horrible end, I’d never stop grieving.”

“But—”

“Close your mouth or you’ll get a sore throat,” she said and reached to tighten his cloak around his shoulders.

“That’s all very touching but it’s bloody cold. Start walking or I leave you both here.” Tianna had already started walking away, towards the slope that led into the Lower City.

“I’ll take him back on a carriage,” Sil said, putting her arm under his.

Vergil shied away from her like her touch was poisonous, but she was having none of it. She held on tight to his arm and led towards one of the stations, its outline visible only by how packed down the snow was by countless feet. Tianna followed, a look of intense unhappiness on her face.

“I’m coming along too,” she said and stood by to wait for the carriage.

“Oh, this should be good. You’ve finally decided to join us in the modern world?” Sil mocked her friend.

They were completely alone under the falling snow. Vergil had enjoyed the early mornings of Valen while he’d been alone. It was a wonderful time when the city was almost quiet, with the day shift not yet awake, and the night one still at work.

Now the city frightened him. Loneliness waited for him, now that Sidora, Davan and Merk were gone. Their absence left a hole in him that he had no idea how to deal with.

“I could be at the Meadow in less time than it takes you to freeze out here,” Tianna argued, unhappy for some reason. “Bianca would be all too happy to get me away from your stupid grin.”

“But Tianna can’t do force manipulation,” Sil said in a low, sweet voice. “Even a promising pyromancer can’t fly. One of our watching friends catching a glimpse of you flying around would be quite an unfortunate turn for us.” Her evil grin widened. “So you’re stuck walking or catching a ride with us.”

Tianna scowled.

“What’s wrong with catching a transit carriage? They’re free,” Vergil asked. He’d ridden in them before while exploring the city. They reminded him of the monorail trams that ran across some portions of the Gloria.

“Tianna gets sick on them. Violently.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. We can walk.”

“No. Me and Tianna can walk. You’d likely expire on the stairs, given your condition. She’s going to be a big girl and suffer for a bell strike.”

It was a horribly uncomfortable, cramped ride for both Tianna and Vergil. The carriages were heated, after a fashion, but were also overcrowded as no one relished the idea of waiting for the next one in the freezing cold. A thick, cloying smell of animal hide and perspiration clogged the air in the tightly packed space.

Tianna looked like she was trying very hard to keep her breakfast down.

Vergil felt sick with himself. Having the aelir’rei pressed against him in the crowd, her arm around his waist to steady him, was like a red-hot band of metal coiled around his naked body. It brought up a memory of Sidora, of the tent and…

“Breathe slower,” Sil whispered. “Deep breath. Slow.”

Had she noticed? He tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. She pulled him closer to herself.

“Panic is manageable. You are safe. Close your eyes if you need to, but if you don’t slow your breathing you are going to faint. We will not be gentle if we need to carry you.”

She said everything in a calm, quiet monotone, for his ears only. Vergil squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to slow down.

“Good, like that,” she encouraged him.

It wasn’t working. All the bodies pressing into him forced his mind back to the cave, back into the cage. He trembled violently in spite of the healer’s quiet coaching.

Someone pressed into him. His stomach dropped. The carriage had stopped on the lift platform that took it into the Lower City.

“Open your eyes,” that someone whispered right in front of him.

He obeyed without thinking and found himself staring down into Tianna’s midnight blue eyes. They were almost forehead to forehead and closer than he felt comfortable. Her stare ran him through and chased away the firelight from his imagination. Her pressure overwhelmed any semblance of thought in his head, leaving him an insect pinned to the wall.

“Stay on your own feet. I am not carrying you,” she said, pushing the words out through gritted teeth. Her voice was a sharp as razor wire, the threat almost palpable.

He managed a weak nod as she kept her eyes on his. Sil’s tight hold relaxed as she chuckled gently.

Vergil had heard about the Meadow. Everyone knew about the place, but very few adventurers ever reached the kind of wealth and status to afford a room there, let alone an apartment sized for an entire extended royal family. Four rooms, two of which were bedrooms with richly sculpted king-sized beds dressed in soft furs and silk sheets, were connected by a smaller, central hub into which the main door opened.

The largest room it connected was a sitting room with a fireplace dominating one wall. Along the walls there were bookcases and wardrobes, all with crystal glass doors. Two long tables were piled high and orderly with books, scrolls, quills and glass apparatus.

He was led slack jawed through the corridor and helped by Sil out of the heavy coat he’d been gifted. There was even a cart of food waiting in the central hall, the aromas making his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Both Sil and Tianna ignored it.

Tianna took him by the arm and dragged him past the food and into the study. For someone as dainty as she seemed, the girl was immensely stronger than him.

Sil disappeared into one of the bedrooms for a change of clothes.

“Stay there,” Tianna instructed, pointing to a spot in the middle of the room.

She walked to one of the tables piled highest with scrolls and thick, ancient looking tomes. She undid the clasps of her thick dress, letting it slide down her body, to reveal a tight, body-hugging white blouse and leggings underneath. Vergil’s face and ears burned and he became acutely interested in the toes of his boots. If Tianna cared at all, she didn’t show it.

“Hold this.”

Vergil found himself cupping with both hands a dark gold chalice studded with dull gems around its circumference. It was just slightly larger than a pitcher of ale at the Boar.

“What’s this for?” he asked, turning the thing in his hands.

Sil returned after some time. She looked Tianna over and sighed when she noticed the dress strewn about the floor and the sorceress strutting about in her underclothes.

“Really, clean up after yourself. There’s a hamper for wet clothes, you know?”

Tianna waved her away impatiently and thrust a staff tipped with a blue jewel into her arms.

“Spare me the lecture. I want to see his doppel.”

There was a quick exchange of glares between the two and, finally, Sil sighed, shook her head despondently and took the staff.

Holding its blue gem against her chest, she concentrated for a moment and then pointed the crystal at him. A shining, gossamer thin golden thread appeared between her chest and his, like the first strand of a spider web connecting two pillars. He felt weird for a moment but it was an oddly familiar experience.

The chalice in his hands began filling, from the bottom up, with a black oil-like liquid. It had a multicoloured sheen on top that reflected lamplight as a distorted rainbow. It overflowed the chalice and covered his hands, thick as tar and cold as ice. He tried to drop the goblet but found his fingers refusing to unclench.

He looked in panic to the two women who stood abreast a few steps away from him, watching as the tar formed into a long shadow of him, a pool in the centre of the room. As liquid flowed strength sapped out of him. The liquid shadow coalesced and rose high, turning into a naked copy of him.

“What the Hell?” he stammered.

Drawing breath was an effort of will. So was speaking. Only his eyes still obeyed as they should and he hated what he saw. The black body turned towards him with a predatory grace. It looked like a mirror image, if the mirror had been warped by heat. Its posture was slightly hunched with the impression of a coiled spring ready to snap, while its face had a savage ferocity that scared him down to the marrow of his bones. Featureless voids occupied the spaces where its mouth and eyes should have been.

“What the Hell is this?” His voice almost cracked, sounding high and shrill even to his own ears. The thing in front of him mimicked his outburst but added outrageous body language.

“We call it doppelganger, an avatar of the state of your soul right now,” Tianna answered.

Sil called the creature over with a gesture of her hand.

“How is that my soul? Why does it look like that? Why are you taking it out?” His voice was still shrill. He had started breathing shallow and fast, pain flaring up in his chest.

“Representation of your soul, not your actual soul,” Sil answered calmly. “That bit is a lot harder to take out without killing you.”