The King's Court

[Sebilla]

Sebilla narrowly missed being pushed aside by the King and her brother as she escaped into her room. She leaned against the door and sighed, feeling deeply weary from her whole adventure. Her hands shook as she took the herbs out of the satchel and lined them up according to importance. The teapot was already sitting on a hook over a crackling fire in the fireplace. Gingerly, and with care, Sebilla lifted the hot pot off of the hook with some towels and set it on the table with the herbs. She saw that Keev had taken the time to fill the pot and put it over the fire for her. The young woman made a mental note to thank her for the gesture.

Sebilla slipped a knife out of the satchel and diced up the herbs, making sure not to waste a thing as she dumped them into a cheesecloth to steep without getting bits of herb grit in her teeth. She tossed the whole thing in the hot water and put the lid back on the pot. With another sigh she sat heavily on the large bed and pulled the shoes from her feet. She wouldn't be going anywhere soon, that much was obvious, and her brother was in what seemed to be a deep council with the King. She might not ever get to leave. Sebilla let herself relax as she drew her knees up to her chin and watched the pot steep. As she zoned out she felt the crystal pressed against her back, sitting on the bed behind her. Where it touched her body it became warm and felt almost malleable as she let her thoughts wander.

This vision was calmer, smoother, nothing like she had ever experienced before. Later she would swear up and down that the Crystal had eased the transition, and it would be true. It was sucking the vision out of her like a straw, letting her review the images without the whole body impact that she was so used to. Sure, she would have a deeper headache afterward, but she would take that over a battered and bruised body from seizure inducing visions.

All Sebilla could see was a man, standing alone, facing a blood red lake. He was crying and his face was worn. He was mourning something or someone. Then the vision changed, he was chasing something -- a flutter of gold hair here, the scent of lavender there. This man was desperate to catch this vision his mind wanted to be real.

When the vision faded, Sebilla held her head in her hands briefly as the pain doubled. Working conciously to hold what food she had down, she struggled to her feet and away from the crystal ball. She poured some of the cooled tea and sipped it gingerly, holding the cup as if it were the last thing real thing in existence. Sebilla knew that face and she shuddered to think what could bring her uncle to his knees so desperately. It was a vision of the future, and that shade of blonde hair seemed awfully familiar...

Sebilla sipped the tea and when she was done she poured herself another cup, drank it, and set the cup down. She walked to the wash basin and splashed cold water on her face and shook her head. She glanced into a looking glass seeing how awful she looked and decided, at last, to just get some rest.

Sebilla moved the crystal from the bed, setting it carefully next to the bed should she need it during the night. Her head barely hit the pillow and she passed out cold. She looked almost dead as she laid on her back with her hands resting on her belly clasped together. Her white dress slipped over the side of the bed just slightly so that she looked almost picture perfect. Almost, except for the dark circles under her eyes that signified the sheer exhaustion that two visions in as many hours would create.

Trydian would be able to find her and he might panic at the sight of her so pale and drawn, sleeping as if she were dead already. Very few things could wake Sebilla, and none of those things would be Trydian's rude attitude.

[Trydian]

Trydian cringed at the King's words. He was not known for failing a task, but he had with a surprising realization. It wasn't as though he could have helped the outcome. His sister Igraine had betrayed him. She had knowingly given the sword to his father, someone he had tried to keep it from. He almost stopped in his steps. So, the King knew he had had the sword on him at the time. There were little excuses he could feed to such a being. While Trydian was a young demon, he knew he played with his life, when he lied to someone like King Pendaran.

His loyalty had once been with Queen Igraine, but he would never forgive her, for giving the blade to Vylrath. Vylrath was now using the blade as it should be used- now the future was unpredictable to Trydian.

King Pendaran had a strong interest in the blade and it made Trydian wonder what he should tell him. He didn't want his information to hurt Igraine unnecessarily. However, if he had eyes and ears everywhere, he couldn't exactly hide the truth.

“I only know that my father tricked a Goddess into creating it. There is another sword that partners with it: The darkness sword.” He paused, realizing what he had just revealed, but at that moment he didn't care. At least he hadn't said who was currently wielding the blade. “My father has the sword...something I tried to prevent, but Igraine passed it along to him. Before I left, he was under the influence of the blade.” Trydian shrugged, already seeing the fate of the group.

“I'll be surprised if any are left standing.” He replied bitterly. “It was the Queen's damn fault, for not listening to me. Thorin left her with a taint, that was why I left it with her to begin with.” Trydian almost walked ahead of the King, his anger with Queen Igraine taking over. He wanted to be alone, but that would be hard when one worked for someone like King Pendaran.

“She put herself in that position. As far as I'm concerned, she's lost me for a brother. I could give a damn what happens to my father or uncle.” Trydian said, thinking about his words and wondering if they were truth. They were said with a confidence that matched his current emotions. If Igraine wanted to go against him, then she picked the wrong demon to betray.

As if in an afterthought, he remembered his sister. He was beginning to think less of her each day, which was alarming. “How is my sister since I've left?” Trydian asked, noting the path they walked on lead to one direction. If the King had something in store for him, he wouldn't exactly fight back his intentions.

[Paroxysm]

Pendaran absorbed everything Trydian had to say in complete silence with only the occasional nod serving as indication that he was listening. Unfortunately, the information Trydian provided concerning the sword and its sister-blade was not what the king had wanted to hear; he had wanted to know of its strengths or augmentative properties, or its powers, if it had them. Pendaran knew only of what he could gleam from Jack. Still, it was understandable that Trydian did not want to share too much of what his former weapon was been capable of... and, at least, what he did share was somewhat useful. He had claimed his father tricked a Goddess - most likely a child of one of the Lesser Gods, or perhaps a survivor of Death’s war - into creating the swords and that they could influence their wielders.

That was very interesting indeed.

“She came to see me about the gift I had offered,” Pendaran replied as he stopped just in front of a large, wooden door, “She asked for what I could not give, but I helped her none-the-less. Mastering her ability is her responsibility, however.”

Pendaran raised his hand and gestured for silence, and then whispered something under his breath. The response was immediate: A cold, dank flood of energy momentarily wafted from the door and then dispersed, and the door slowly swung open to allow entrance for Pendaran and Trydian.

From outside the now accessible room, Trydian would be able to see countless treasures, gold and silver and jewels cast about like garbage, and many things magical, artifacts and relics piled atop one another with no sense of order. With a motion of his hand, Pendaran directed Trydian to follow and then entered the apparent treasury.

“A vault,” Pendaran pointed out, “and an armory, too,” he turned a corner, continued straight, and then turned again; he did this several more times before he stopped at yet another door. Unlike the vault’s entrance, this one had two guards identical to the ones outside his study. They, too, were impassive, though that was most likely due to the king’s presence.

The king opened the door and entered unceremoniously. This new room looked the better part of a museum; it was also a testament to the limitless architectural possibilities that the Unseelie possessed. To call it huge would have been a vast understatement as it was a building inside of a building. Weapons of all sizes and shapes lined its walls or were in specially made racks, and a scarce few, no more than a dozen, were underneath glass containers; it was one of these displays that Pendaran hurried over to.

“sub lunam vigil,” he stated in a tone of voice usually reserved for a person’s name and then removed the weapon and its sheath from the display.

In his hands, Pendaran held a chakram hilted sword - a weapon with a ring around its hilt - and dancing, dazzling runes were embedded down the length of its blade. With an idle flick of his wrist, the king slashed the sword through the air which caused the ambient temperature to suddenly drop.

It was obviously a weapon empowered by magic and the design of its hilt were hallmarks of Unseelie craftsmanship; its blade, however, was not of Fae make at all. It lacked any semblance of cunning in its shape, but there was a powerful presence behind it none-the-less.

“Years ago, I met a ... man ... who, by all rights, should have been dead,” he explained, “but that man taught me some of his people’s craft,” Pendran held the sword hilt out towards Trydian, respectfully, “Tell me what you think of my work.”

The sword would prove to be light and perfectly balanced, despite its awkward shape, and while the runes appeared identical to one another, in reality, each provided a different enchantment. With this sword in hand - sub lunam vigil, as Pendaran had called it - elemental air and ice would allow the wielder to dominate any foe or foes. It was, in essence, a fragment of King Pendaran's power forged into a weapon.

[Trydian]

Trydian followed King Pendaran, admiring the vast collection briefly. He knew he couldn't let his guard down too easily, no matter how comfortable he was expected to feel. Listening to the King, he watched him perform some incantations with a blade kept under glass. It was a weapon to admire, but such things did not necessarily entice something in Trydian.

“You have an impressive collection. Unfortunately, I don't care about a blades creation.” Trydian folded his arms across his chest, watching the King display the blade momentarily. “I only care who wields it and the power behind it.” He decided to elaborate on the chaos sword. “That is why I didn't want my father to possess the blade- its power takes hold of the user and they lose all senses. They exchange energies, making it impossible for the wielder to resist using the blade.”

It probably didn't matter how much the King knew about them now. His mind went to Sebilla and what she was up to, but only for a split second. Once she found out their predicament, she would probably never speak to him again. That was a thought that didn't need to be revisited.

The power behind King Pendaran's blade, sparked a small interest in him. When King Pendaran offered him the hilt, he didn't grasp it, but instead questioned the intentions behind showing him such a weapon. “I've had my share of enchanted blades and I know what they do to a man.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “I have no interest in such things anymore.”

“My father should have been dead, yet I saw him alive and well.” Trydian shrugged at King Pendaran's revelation. “Those things do not surprise me....”

“Why have you brought me here? I doubt you brought me here to just show off a weapon.” Trydian was losing his patience. He had performed his task and assumed he would be left alone. Trydian didn't like the idea of being watched so closely by King Pendaran.

[Paroxysm]

With a slow, deliberate motion Pendaran sheathed the sword and held it loosely in his hand. If Trydian's lack of patience bothered him, the king did not let it openly show, and by the time it did become obvious, it would probably be much too late to correct.

"Had you kept your sword and fallen to its influence while fighting in my name, I would have disposed of you myself," Pendaran spoke with emotionless calm, "and while your motivations for getting rid of it are suspect, I'm thankful you did; it puts Queen Igraine's allies at a disadvantage. Vylrath Xanathi is a liability. I have no need of a warrior who succumbs to his own weapon, but a warrior I do need,” Pendaran held the now sheathed sword out to Trydian once more.

There was no bargain being made, no deal brokered - Trydian was not even being offered permanent ownership of the weapon. The sword was as much a part of Pendaran as his own arms and legs and would eventually come back into his possession. However, Pendaran did not know of the limits of Vylrath or Thorin’s strengths, he had never actually met them before, after all, and everything he had heard more or less indicated that they often got drunk on their own power. All reports of the Xanathi family also made mention of restraint issues. It was therefore reasonable to assume that if Trydian was near his relative’s power, then the one with the better weapon and self-control was going to win, and, if he was not near their strength, he was going to need all the help he could get should he face them in combat.

Trydian was a resource for Pendaran and like most resources, a bit of refinement was needed...

“My sword is not a weapon meant to overwhelm or intoxicate its wielder,” Pendaran explained, “and if you were to fall to it,” he shook his head,” that would say a great deal about you; none of it good. Still, I will not force it on you - I will simply ask: As you are now, if you were to be attacked by either your father or uncle, could you defeat them?”

Trydian may not have realized it, but Pendaran had a lot of precautions to take. Vylrath and Thorin were but two problems out of a great deal more, and that meant he had to prepare several steps in advance. What if Sebilla -

“- Ah,” Pendaran held up his free hand, “that’s right, did Queen Igraine mention anything about your sister?”

[Trydian]

Trydian still didn't grasp the blade. If he were to have a blade, he would want his own, not another man's. “Since you want me to have a blade so badly, allow me to have my own created. I will not carry another man's weapon.” Even though Trydian carried one on his person already, he had not actually forged the creation. The blade had been found off of a body. When King Pendaran offered the blade fully sheathed, it still didn't have a meaning to him.

“As we speak, I'm sure that my father is being controlled by the blade and giving himself up for the power. My uncle is a fledgling Vuri, but they carry the strength of a demon. I've seen his strength...I doubt I could win against either one in a true battle.” It was difficult to acknowledge his weakness in front of another man.

He looked toward the door and back toward King Pendaran who still held the sheathed blade. When he questioned Queen Igraine's response, he remembered her answer quite vividly. “She wants Sebilla to be freed, that is her condition.”

He didn't understand why King Pendaran had tested him with the blade. Trydian only knew that he didn't want any of the King's weapons. He was sure that his sister would need his attention soon- it was the first time that they had been separated for so long.

“I did my appointed duty and spoke to the Queen. Her response is not in my fault.” Trydian was going to turn his back on the King, but thought better of it. “I should see to my sister, especially if she is using her new ability that you granted her. She will probably exhaust herself...mortals do not have much sense with power.” Trydian said, for once, feeling the insult of being asked to wield the King's own weapons. He would rather take the time to make his own, then be given a sword of charity.

[Paroxysm]

Pendaran scowled but did not push the issue further. In the end, he could understand Trydian's reluctance and his desire to create his own weapon rather than use the Unseelie king's. Although it would have been preferable that the demon wield sub lunam vigil Pendaran had another servant he could gift the sword to.

"Very well," Pendran said, "I will arrange for an instructor to help you with the creation of a new sword. Get stronger,” he shrugged.

Pendaran, still holding the sword, settled the sheathed weapon’s weight at his side.

“Ha,” he gave a curt laugh, “Do you think me childish enough to blame or punish you for the queen’s response? No,” he said reassuringly, “It is not your fault, but I fear your sister may get dragged into conflict, contract or no. Before you go, answer me another question? Will Igraine and her allies use your sister’s ability?”

Trydian’s deal with the Unseelie involved neutrality and protection for Sebilla Xanathi - he would not have forgotten it, Pendaran was sure. The wording of Trydian’s deal made it so that if Sebilla worked against the Unseelie then her neutrality was forfeit and she was, once again, at risk of Unseelie meddling and retribution; likewise, Sebilla’s violation of neutrality would not affect Trydian’s service to the court. His contract would have still been in place. Pendaran would have to take preemptive action before allowing Sebilla to leave his court.

[Trydian]

Trydian watched the behavior of King Pendaran for a moment. So, he had hit a little nerve. If he could smirk, he would have. “Then train me yourself, if you want me to get stronger. One of your lackey's won't do.” He began to wonder about the King and how strong he really was. King Pendaran had the power to manipulate, but most of of the time it was glamour.

It appeared that the King needed him more than he was letting him on. Trydian was the messenger, a walker between worlds and he could easily withhold information. The young demon was beginning to see his influence, but he also saw the danger in playing that kind of game with the King. He couldn't say he didn't enjoy the thought though.

“I beg your pardon, but I have only known childish kings. My father was one after all.” Shrugging, he smiled inwardly, but kept his stoic appearance present in front of the King. He was beginning to relate to his father and how manipulation could be a personal enjoyment.

“She cannot use my sister's abilities in any form. Besides, my sister is protected and will not have anything to do with your plans. I'll make sure of it.” Trydian was getting impatient, he wanted to make sure that his sister was well. For a demon, it was not uncommon that someone got under his skin- especially with this type of questioning.

“If you'll excuse me...I need to attend to my sister.” Trydian began to walk toward the exit, wondering if the door would open for him. If he could forge his own blade, he would be able to be rid of the blade he currently possessed. He didn't care if King Pendaran sent an instructor to help him build a blade. Since the King only had a collection, he doubted the King could teach him how to forge a weapon himself. It was disappointing, but something he could work around. Not just any blade would do for someone like Trydian.

[Paroxysm]

"Perhaps I will," Pendaran had replied noncommittally. He was not going to give his word on making Trydian stronger, himself, but it was a possibility; it would depend on how often he had need of the boy.

"Hhn," Pendaran breathed a dismissal and as Trydian walked, his path would lengthen, distort, and eventually transition to the hall that had lead to the vault; from there, Trydian could go wherever he wished. While the demon had seemed confident enough about Sebilla not participating on Igraine’s behalf, Pendaran was not convinced, but, for now, he would allow things to play out.

He would send Igraine a reply to her demands shortly.

[Trydian]

Trydian felt the shift, long before he left the actual room. Shaking his head, he wondered if that was all King Pendaran was good for- however, the intelligence in him didn't want to test that. Right now, he only cared about finding Sebilla. There would be some things to discuss and he was curious how her new ability was progressing.

Entering Sebilla's quarters, he saw her exhausted form on her bed. Trydian walked over to her, concerned only for the fact that her face was so pale. Her body looked frail, he was almost afraid to hold her hand. Grabbing her hand gently, he tried to wake her. There would be some things to discuss, even though her body was weary.

“Sebilla...I have news...you must wake, it's your brother!” Trydian cooed at her, not wanting to startle her too quickly. Sebilla had always been known to startle easily. The last thing he needed to deal with, was a panicked Seer. Sighing, he sat on the edge of her bed. She would feel him there, but it wouldn't be with a supernatural ability. His presence wasn't exactly one to forget and he hoped he left that impression on King Pendaran. He remembered King Pendaran questioning Sebilla, hoping that she wouldn't be forced into any of his plans.

Trydian had to warn her, but most of all, talk to her about Queen Igraine. Once she saw him, he was sure that she would be relieved.

[Sebilla]

It would take many minutes for Sebilla to come out of her deep sleep. Enough that Trydian might get worried, she had never done this before. Then again, she had never had two visions so close together in one day either. When her eyes fluttered open she squeezed Trydian's hand. The headache was gone which was a testament to the crystal's ability to ease the transition. Almost as an afterthought Sebilla looked over at the crystal. She felt that it should somehow look different or seem different -- but it didn't. It still appeared to be the same crystal that King Pendaran had given her.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?" Sebilla sat up gingerly, her body still sore from her display in the throne room. Her eyes went over to the cooled tea and she slipped past her brother to the kettle and poured herself a cup to drink. She knew Trydian wouldn't drink anything with mugwort in it and she knew he'd smell it and wouldn't ask. The price of being a twin, you knew too much about the other person usually.

"What brings you to my room to wake me up? I had another vision after I came back here." Sebilla sipped her tea and picked up the crystal ball sitting on the nightstand. It wasn't so huge that it had to be left on a table to use, but it wasn't so small that it could be easily misplaced. The ball was of a middling size that made for easy transport. If need be, Sebilla could put the ball in a deep pocket of her skirts or secret it away in a cloak pocket. She would carry it in her bags though, it seemed the least likely place for the thing to get hurt. If it could get hurt that is.

"The King couldn't give me what you told me to ask for. He did give me this crystal ball though. It helped wonderfully through the last transition and into the actual vision. I can channel my energies through it I think is what he said. It worked out wonderfully, I didn't have a fit or anything. I just got really tired from having two visions in one day."

Sebilla settled in next to her brother and rested her head on his shoulder. She was still warm from sleep and she felt as if she could still sleep a dozen hours or more.

[Trydian]

“Is our King really so powerful? All he can give you is a crystal ball...any being can do that!” Trydian said, watching her get her beverage. The stuff in the drink, bothered his nostrils, but it wasn't enough to agitate him. Sighing, he began to have doubts about their new King. In truth, King Pendaran was no more than some cheap conjurer in Trydian's view. The demon was slowly losing fear and his ego was rebuilding itself.

He took the crystal ball from her hand, not that she would have fought him for his action. Sebilla was far too weak to say anything contrary. Chuckling, he rotated the crystal ball in the palm of his hand. Watching the different spectrum of lights play in the crystal, he looked toward her, with a gaze that branded a new awareness between them.

“Father has the sword....” The news would probably jolt her awake. She had been drifting to sleep against his shoulder, but he needed her full attention. “I tried to keep the King from learning about it, but now he knows. He also knows about the darkness sword that mother carries.” Trydian cringed, knowing that Sebilla carried an unearthly anger compared to most women. “Trust me, I had no choice! He would have found out either way...”

Sighing again, he decided to tell her the rest of the seemingly bad news. “I'm also to be trained, but it is not some glorified knight like he wants you to believe. I will be going against our own family, more than likely.” Trydian continued to watch the crystal, actually finding some calmness while gazing into the kaleidoscopic colors.

“He will be contacting Igraine soon. She refused his invention, unless Vylrath and some mentor of hers joined her.” Trydian had knowingly betrayed the family, but he would gladly do it for her safety. “I am doing this for you, Sebilla...” He felt ashamed then, but it wasn't as though he could control the events.

“I'm only glad that you have something to protect you, If I don't come back.” Trydian sat with her on the bed, wishing that moment could have been something else entirely.

[Sebilla]

Sebilla snatched the crystal ball out of her brother's hands and put it in a pocket of her dress. She glared at Trydian for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"You are so...inconsiderate sometimes. It would seem as if you think yourself some King already when you have no kingdom to reign over. You're as mean as an old goblin sometimes. Maybe you'll be a Goblin King one day with your mean spirited and angry ways. Just because something doesn't seem important to you doesn't mean that it isn't. This crystal ball saved me from being hurt again when I had another vision. That is all I need to know for me to believe that it will have invaluable use." Sebilla reached up and smacked her brother lightly across his mouth and she held her hand there for a moment glaring into his eyes. He would notice that her eyes were shot through with an eerie silver hue, since her abrupt entrance back into the world of Sight.

"I know you have no choice, but to throw our own mother to the wolves? I don't care if the King knew the exact moment of my death or the precise moment that the sun would implode -- you didn't have to volunteer the information. Mother could be in grave danger now. Don't start with me..." Sebilla covered Trydian's mouth with her hand as she stepped closer to him, her forehead touching his in a gesture they both used -- Trydian mostly to get down on Sebilla's level. "I know Mother charged you with protecting me, but to the exclusion of all else? I love you Trydian but you can be so stupid sometimes it's really quite unflattering." Sebilla let her hand drop from Trydian's mouth and she closed her eyes as she rested her head against her brother's forehead. She was so light compared to what Trydian was capable of carrying. He would know she was still tired but she didn't care that he saw her weakness.

"Is there anything else I should know? Is there anything that the King requires of me?" It would seem that Trydian's time as messenger boy wasn't over just yet.

[Trydian]

Trydian was beginning to grow impatient with Sebilla. He couldn't help their situation and it wasn't as if they were in the family any longer. He decided to break the news to her harshly, even though it was something she should have been aware of.

“You are sitting cozy in your room, while I am watching our family fall apart by ONE person! Our family won't win against him. He might not be as powerful as I thought, but he's already torn us apart, hasn't he?” Trydian looked at Sebilla, his eyes cold. It wasn't as though, their family had been close knit to begin with, but it was the idea that one King could destroy them, that ate at his pride.

Getting up from the bed, Trydian made sure she didn't trip over herself. He began to walk toward the door. Turning around to look at her, he made something very crystal clear. “If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this position and my soul wouldn't be lost. Let's face it...we are his servants, Sebilla. If you think you are so free, try walking past the stronghold.” Trydian snarled, shocked at his own anger toward her. “Do you think you are safe, just because he hasn't called for you yet?” Trydian smirked at her, showing how stubborn a demon could be. He had never actually displayed his anger in front of her before. This argument would be something to test the both of them.

“It's awfully convenient that he offers you a gift and gives you something to help you.” Trydian left his words at that. If she couldn't figure out that she would be used, then there was little he could do for an explanation.

Had he finally gone insane, from being in the King's realm? It wouldn't have surprised him. He had been pushed at his limit. This was the first time that someone else had intervened in their lives. Normally, they would have been at home living in peace. He felt like they had to fight for every second.

When Sebilla slapped him, it didn't help to calm his temper. “I told him everything, because I was afraid of what he'd do to you.” Trydian sighed, not realizing that his next words might create a rift between them. “I wish I didn't have to think about someone else all the time....”Trydian caught his words, but he knew he was too late to take them back. It was true though...he had always been looking out for her. It wasn't his fault that she had been born human.

“As for mother, she is not helpless. She doesn't need a protector. Caela carries the sword and I'm sure she'll know how to defend herself.” Trydian said casually, feeling the awkwardness spring between them like a poison. It was the first time he called his mother by her name. He might as well have written himself from the family blood-line.

“Stay out of my way Sebilla. Do whatever you can to keep King Pendaran happy, but do not think of my well being. My blood is hardly as delicate.” Pausing, he let the words effect her emotionally. "I will be using all of my demonic power, so you may not like who I become." Opening the door, he sought to speak to the King. If he had to beg, he would beg to be trained immediately.

Sebilla failed to see the complex nature of the situation and that was at his fault for not teaching her more. If his mother died from all of this, he naturally wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Slamming the door shut behind him, he stormed through the castle hallways.

[Sebilla]

"I already hate what you've become. Can it be any different?" Sebilla picked up the knife from the table where she had cup up the herbs. She looked at it for a moment and gripped the hilt of the knife so hard that her nails threatened to break the skin of her palm. Sebilla was so angry that she felt she should hit something, but there was nothing that would satifsy her -- except maybe her brother's big stupid face.

As Trydian slammed the door behind him she launched the knife at the door. It stuck briefly in the wood before breaking free and clattering to the floor loudly. Sebilla marched to the door and snatched the knife up and threw the door open and yelled after her brother.

"I release you from your blood oath to me, brother. If I die let it be from old age and not your 'help'. Let animals maul me or let a damned rock fall on my head. I am nothing but a prisoner here and I can do nothing about it. Just because you're too proud to see beyond the end of your big stupid nose doesn't mean you have to drag us all down with you. This is not my fault, excuse me for being born!"

Sebilla slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying very very hard not to cry as she slid down the back of the door. She could feel the bond breaking slowly between them and she knew the only way to break the bond with her brother. Sebilla balked at the idea for a moment as she stared at the knife, but she drew it along the inside of her forearm, making a light sound of pain as the tip dragged through flesh and muscle, just far enough to bleed well but not kill her. Sebilla walked over to the table with the herbs and picked up a small bottle from the table and filled it with her blood, corking it off and setting it aside as she pressed a hand over her arm.

She cleaned the wound and looked for something to bandage it with, when to her surprise the spiders came scuttling out of the cabinet and crawled up her body to the injured arm. The fine little glasslike spiders worked furiously to bandage up the cut, which was deeper in some places than others. Their webs drew the pieces of skin together tightly and soaked the blood that continued to seep to the surface. Sebilla smiled and thanked the spiders as they scurried back into the dressing cabinet, no blood marred the white gown they had fitted to her earlier in the day and so they felt no need to linger.

"Well, big brother. It looks as if you will be rid of me sooner rather than later." Sebilla picked up the bottle of her own blood gingerly with her hurt arm. It would heal well enough with little scarring. All she had to do was give Trydian the bottle and it would all be over.