It's an interesting thought. Of all three Unsundered, Emet-Selch has been here the longest and would by rights be the most likely to be versed in the world's magic. But having to relearn magic in its entirety has made Irhya's reasoning in asking Elidibus contain a certain amount of common sense.
Even if it didn't there is a matter the Ascian is now interested in since the Warrior of Light has spoken about it. So the Emissary is going to indulge the moment. Approaching from the opposite side of the table- the side which Irhya pushed the saddle to- Elidibus brings a chair with him and sits down.
"Have a seat and show me this piece of jewelry. I cannot promise it is not beyond my ability but I will examine it nonetheless." But it won't be without cost. Elidibus moves the saddle to the side so there is enough space on the table between them. "In exchange, I wish you to tell me in detail why you do not trust the Coven."
Moving her chair to the side of the table, perpendicular from him, Irhya offers him her hand and finds a spot on the floor to look at while she formulates her thoughts.
"You might've heard, but maybe about a year and a half ago, Dorchacht was basically a dystopia. Monsters were under a city-wide mind control spell to make them subservient, cruelty and abuse ran rampant, and any dissenting voices were taken by their Coven and used as materials. By which I mean, sedated and hooked up like batteries to power the wards over the city, slowly drained of their magic."
A pause. She grimaces. "That, of course, is all Dorchacht's former Coven, but there was another incident a few moons later in which several handfuls of people were captured and tortured by a family of anti-Mirrorbound nobles, who believed we were doing more harm to their city than good. They were caught, tried, and summarily executed, the lot of them... but it made me realize that there are more people out there that are afraid of us than not. And that Aefenglom's Coven is likely among them, considering they can't control the influx. So... I don't think the kindness they give us is unconditional."
Her fingers flex on her other hand, eventually finding a spot to grab her shirt sleeve on the arm she has extended to him. "In this case, perhaps it's just me being irrational, since I've yet to hear any conspiracy theories about our Coven. But I think it is true that they look out for their city first and foremost. If we ever became a burden to them... I don't want to find myself indebted."
Surprise is not evident and Elidibus does nod. But there is no look of horror either as Irhya outlines an example of what happened to the Monsters of Dorchacht. "I have heard tales of such extreme methods." Taking her hand with one of his gloved ones, his eyes fall on the ring which is the source of the cursed enchantment. "And of the events against the tortured Mirrorbound." Though he does not specifically voice his opinion of the mortals who performed such actions, there is mild disdain in his tone.
The utterly typical repetition of what mortals will do to one another.
But the Emissary is not unaware of the dangers these risks currently are to him and his brethren. Hence his keen interest in the information Irhya can provide. And her mention of the Coven's altruism not being considered unconditional earns a glance. "Such matters should go without saying. No matter how civilly Mirrorbound are treated, the Coven and their ilk are our self-appointed wardens in this prison."
The hatred is real and a reminder the Ascian may go through the motions but is hardly to be expected to believe in the lie of 'acceptance'. He turns back to his study of the enchantments tied to the ring. His emotions return to their typical calm.
"Perhaps the Coven were once more generous to the newly arrived than what I experienced, but that matters little. The solution to your concern is simple. If you desire to not be in a position of debt to the Coven, then be certain you give payment. Money seems acceptable enough. Should the gratitude of the service lead to the belief you somehow owe more, then you have only yourself to blame."
Elidibus releases Irhya's hand. "I do not have the skill to undo this enchantment. In another half month's time... perhaps. Yet I expect you wish it to be taken care of sooner." Oddly, there's a bit of frustration in the soft sigh which follows.
"It's an inelegant solution, but I would be able to enchant another item of jewelry to resist the curse." The Emissary calmly regards the miqo'te vampire. "It will do nothing to relieve your current physical arousal and it will not be permanent. But it would allow you to find someone to remove the cursed ring without further influence from its effects to distract you."
"...It's better than nothing," she says finally, letting out a pent-up breath from the moment he suggests it. "I can probably find something to use for the purpose."
It'll just require her to swallow her pride and perhaps consult her fellow Mirrorbound for a more permanent fix. Irhya leans forward on her elbows, looking half-attentively somewhere in the vicinity of his hands. "Of course, I don't want to be indebted to you, either. What do you want in return?"
Unfortunate that he doesn't count the sex as the something in return, she thinks with dry sarcasm. Though he hasn't really offered a clear answer on that bit, either, come to think of it... But she holds her tongue for the time being out of caution.
"Then a piece which has not been shaped or touched by magic would be best," Elidibus explains simply. More than a bit tedious, but this way what enchantment he places upon it will be at its most durable and 'cleanest'. "At the very least something which has not been enchanted previously should be sufficient."
Setting aside other issues, the Ascian would likely not engage in sex as payment, given that deal would conveniently handle the other problem Irhya previously stated a desire to take care of. Hardly a 'payment' when it is to the miqo'te's advantage. It is good that she holds her tongue.
The Emissary affords the Warrior of Light a faint half-smile. "I had no illusions that you would have enjoyed a debt to me." He had considered that an open-ended favor owed may have been gained had Irhya not paid attention to the lesson in his words about owing the Coven. But it seems he had more concrete payment in mind. Just in case there was some hope for her.
The saddle near him is tapped. "I remember the designs and sketches you created for this. I would have them all. That will be how you settle this debt." Whatever concepts, sketched designs, the imagined glimpse of Amaurot under a blue sky. Why he wants them is not easily read from his expression.
She did say either or, she thinks as her expression fades. At this point, she'd probably need to pay him twice over to ask him to help with the incessant horny of right now. So, running a hand through her bangs and over her ears, she glances to the side, moving a few things around to uncover her sketches at the bottom of the pile.
"These?" Curious. She stops to wonder why for a brief moment, and her mind immediately jumps to the idea that he wants them as a reminder... for a city he quite possibly doesn't fully remember. It's the simplest explanation, anyway, knowing what she knows about him. Handing them off, she looks him over again, evaluating.
"I'll need to run upstairs to get the jewelry," she says. "But have fun with those, I suppose."
"Yes, these." Elidibus breaks off his regard of Irhya. Ah, all the luck, huh? Of all the people who could have arrived today, it's one of those who have a more vested interest in ink and color drawings than physical sensuality. For whatever reason, though the Warrior of Light may well be close enough. The Ascian shows no sign of offering why he wants them. But it is with care his payment is treated, set in a place where wrinkles will not threaten them.
"I will await your return." If she had happened to look back before going upstairs, she might have seen Elidibus open his mouth again to say something else only to close it again and settle into thoughtful repose.
It's for the best, really. While pragmatic, it may not have been very tactful to point out he was willing to wait around if she needed to take a while to compose herself while gone. Or perhaps he realized it would be better not to seem as though he were goading the Warrior of Light unfairly.
Perhaps thinking the same thing he's decided not to say out loud, Irhya makes sure to be quick about it, collecting an ordinary bracelet she supposes she can live with wearing for a while and coming back down the stairs with it. Unfortunate that it will probably also suppress the warming effect, she thinks, but such is the price she pays for the thought. She sighs, dropping heavily back into the chair across from him.
"Ugh... here. If you please."
Well, it was nice while it lasted. Her tail moves briskly, as if trying to work off the stress through just the movement alone.
Whether this suppresses the warming effect will depend entirely on how intrinsically tied to the arousal curse it is. Elidibus will be putting his focus on an enchantment that counteracts the specific problem- to give more power and durability to the enchantment he's crafting in general. If the formula is 'warmth through arousal' instead of 'warmth with a hidden added curse to arouse the bearer', then the effect Irhya bought it for in the first place will be canceled out.
Upon her return downstairs, she will notice Elidibus has been preparing while he waited. It is simple enough. Where he has settled at the bench now has a handkerchief size piece of silk spread and he has removed his gloves. Direct contact with the object he wishes to impart magic into, the Ascian has discovered, produces better results for the time being. It would be best if his hands were bared for such detailed work.
Once the bracelet is handed to him, Elidibus nods. There is a moment wherein he regards Irhya quietly, taking note of her agitation. Well, it's to be expected really. Somberly he offers instruction. "I would ask you not interrupt until I am finished. This will require a certain level of concentration. Likewise, do not allow anything else to disturb my focus."
It is a bland instruction but it also imparts a certain sense of trust. Time is given for Irhya to respond before the bracelet is set in the middle of the silk cloth. Lifting a hand and spreading his fingers- as the Warrior of Light has no doubt seen the Ascian do as a habit of his spellcasting back home- the Emissary slowly lowers the palm of his hand to touch the circle.
Magic is called upon, focused, and shaped with words. Words that are spoken in the Ascian's ancient language in heart and mind but are twisted by this world's laws to emerge as Aefenglom's native tongue. Which is good in a sense. It means Irhya can listen in on the instructions he's imprinting. There won't be any tricks. Not that Elidibus had intended there to be any.
Some of the vocabulary and terms used may be on the complex side. But it is the nature of his intent and the way he has come to express spellcasting of this world. Until the day he has managed to reach a level of proficiency that does away with all the extra steps, much of his spellwork is an.... inadequate translation of the visual exercise of creation magic.
"Shouldn't be any problem." There's no one else in the house to disturb anything, after all, and even the one person who does visit only does so sparsely, so it's doubtful he'll have such poor timing. She stands up out of her seat with the pretense of watching for anything, but ends up with her attention glued to his work instead, curious to see the process.
There is a pang of something raw in her chest, though whether it's associated with the interminable desire the curse has her under or something a little different, it's difficult to say. Her eyes move as she listens to the enchantment, apparently able to track most of it mentally, just in case something sneaks in that doesn't align with their agreement. No such thing happens, however, so she relaxes after a while, letting her thoughts drift when the chant stops.
It is all surprisingly straightforward. The method appears to play well into honesty. Though one must admit Elidibus can be considered famed for being honest while not telling the whole truth.
This time everything is in order. The enchantment on the bracelet will, for a limited time, be able to block further effects from the arousal aspect of the curse. The bit about getting the ring removed from the finger seems beyond his power. At least not without a very brutal and pragmatic (though probably messy) solution.
Irhya probably doesn't want to lose a finger though.
Slowly moving his hand back, the Warrior of Light's attention may be brought back to Elidibus as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. A trace of sweat on his brow suggests a certain difficulty of the exertion even if his expression does not otherwise show it.
Maybe there would have been more power available to him closer to the new moon. But it would not have been worth swapping out for the 'difficult to control' part. Or the wait.
"There. It should prove adequate. Please try it on now." Naturally, the Emissary will make certain it works. "Even if you feel no immediate difference, I will be able to ascertain its success."
He did, after all, mention it would not do away with current symptoms.
Irhya lets go of a breath herself, having held it while he worked as if afraid the mere sound of her breathing would disturb him. It sounds loud and ungraceful to her in her own ears, after all. Turning, she collects the bracelet and clasps it onto her wrist with her other hand, tightening it a bit to make sure it doesn't fall off.
"So... does it work?" she asks, holding it up to look from different angles. "It almost looked like you had a hard time with it... though I've admittedly no concept of these things and their level of difficulty beyond what I knew back home."
"Perhaps if you were to hold it still, I may better assess its effectiveness?" Elidibus requests somewhat dryly. But since she is likely to still the action at the reminder, the Ascian will be able to look it over and feel for the activation of the enchantment. He also avoids directly answering whether or not he had a hard time casting it.
"Hm. It appears to be holding. And both ring and bracelet are active," he says after a proper pause. "I designed the resistance to prevent the ring's influence on your body's physiological desire to mate. It should also block any further mental influence such as the lowering of inhibition which might accompany it."
Elidibus fixes his gaze steadily on the miqo'te. "There should be no further inclination to ask your sworn enemies to alleviate your symptoms simply because they are a convenient presence."
"Ah, yes, straightforward as ever," she says with a shrug once he's done assessing, sounding a little like Emet-Selch in her theatrics. "I suppose it's a good thing I can count on you not to pull your punches, all things considered. At least I can make some headway on getting it off now."
For her current situation, though, she's not about to press. Probably not happening unless she were in some kind of mortal danger, or he were somehow indisposed -- which, given how cautious he is, seems even more unlikely. But at least she knows for the next time she goes to buy enchanted jewelry.
"So... thank you for that. Trouble though I'm sure it was for you, I'm grateful."
Ah yes, that does give Elidibus a moment's pause, the resemblance to his fellow Ascian's mannerism.
"I would suggest you also avoid troubling Emet-Selch with the 'physical aspect'. I recognize you do not see him as the enemy he once was. Yet he is still recovering from recent events. I fear physical exertions may undo considerable progress."
Yes. Elidibus is as straightforward as ever. Though this last matter does seem to have been expressed with some real show of concern. Concern for Emet-Selch maybe, but concern nonetheless. Having had a moment to catch his breath, the man stands up and starts reaching for the saddle and sketches.
"While I acknowledge your gratitude, there is no need to express it. I merely performed a service and you paid in kind with these design concepts." Pragmatic too and perhaps a harkening back to their earlier conversation about not letting gratitude suggest Irhya owes him any more than he's already been paid.
It is also in his best interests to have her rational and not awkward in future encounters.
"As before I will fit the saddle. If you wish to stay inside I will only return if there is some adjusting to be considered."
"Bit late for that..." Irhya mutters, feeling a pang of annoyance as she averts her gaze, but puts up no further fuss at the request. It's not like she wasn't tortured at the same time he was killed. In fact, her tail and ears are still healing over from it, likely to remain bare patches for a while to come. But, well, maybe she can plead her case to Mettaton instead, if he's not having trouble with the exact same thing...
A sigh. "I'll come out, too. I could never turn down a chance to say hi to Filia." Maybe the cool air will help settle her mind, too, she thinks. Certainly, her calling him over has been productive, but she can't shake the slight unease from his request to lay off Emet. He could just be trying to drive a wedge between them using reason as his excuse... after all, it's likely that he and Lahabrea are still less than pleased about it. And maybe she is just being selfish, in the end, but...
At first, Elidibus pretends not to hear. Not even a long glance as he finishes gathering up the saddle and moving outside. Naturally, there is no protest when Irhya follows suit and the reasoning is sound for a mortal's habits. While it's true he does tend to Filia's needs and the amaro is rather attached to Elidibus, he still consciously sees the bird as a useful tool. Why else bother to take such good care?
Filia had been dozing in the last rays of the sun- which has now pretty much set- and gives a sleepy warble of greeting when the two emerge from the cottage into the early evening. The newer saddle is set down beside Filia while Elidibus begins the familiar process of removing the current tack, saddle, and padding. From one of the saddlebacks comes tools that will make sure the amaro's shaggy coat is laying properly before thinking of putting on the new saddle.
When it's like this one could be tricked into believing it is Ardbert. Perhaps a bit too quiet during the work- one might picture a cheerful conversation with Filia to occur- sure. But the focus denotes certain care in the task and the fondness Filia displays as she enjoys the grooming is sincere. And when he does speak up, it is with Ardbert's 'voice' again as they are in a public place. Elidibus still takes care with that. The words though?
"I don't particularly care if he chooses to indulge you. Though I hope you are referring to a general statement of shared intimacy and not that you have been troubling a man recently back from the dead and still covered in visible injury?" It's very pointed. "I would be disappointed if you did."
Elidibus may well dislike Irhya's relation with Emet-Selch. It may even equal Lahabrea's displeasure. But what seems to matter to him currently is how it is going to affect the physical recovery of the Ascian in question. And he's going to voice it whether or not the Warrior of Light might end up displeased hearing it from 'Ardbert'.
She's almost, almost managed to forget about it in watching the amaro happily receiving all the attention when he speaks up again. Gods damn it all.
"You say that like I wasn't injured too," Irhya replies dryly, squinting at him. "Besides, didn't I already tell you my whole purpose in asking was to avoid being too much of a pain in his arse about it?"
A part of her wants to go off further, about how she doesn't care about his disappointment or his general dislike of her bond with Emet-Selch, but she manages to turn her thoughts in a slightly less inflammatory direction. "And if he wasn't up to it physically or in the mood for it, I wouldn't push the issue." She crosses her arms, digging her fingers into her sleeves. "I'm not as much of an ingrate as you seem to think I am."
"You appear to misunderstand the extent of his injuries," Elidibus answers while handling a spot on the back that the amaro was happy to have handled, being it was itchy. "If you are currently thinking of asking him at all." He looks at Irhya, eyes flicking with no particular surprise to the tell-tale bald patches. He probably noticed them before and seems to understand what they imply. "Then your mind is more addled by the curse than I first presumed. This would apply as much to your recovery as his." He seems somewhat frustrated that he has to explain this, though it doesn't appear to be specifically directed toward the miqo'te.
More likely, it's that attitude Ascians have toward mortal tedium which so often manifests. Being trapped in a mortal body and having to experience matters at their level has hardly alleviated Elidibus of a millennia-long prejudice.
"Ingrate...?" The vocabulary momentarily gives him pause. Elidibus understands what she means but it indicates he's a bit distracted that he even dwells on it. An impatient sigh escapes him and he finishes with the tools. They're set aside to be cleaned out and put back later. For now, he starts working on the new saddle. "Far be it for anyone other than myself to presume knowledge of what I am thinking. But it is not on of your lack of gratitude."
Cinch a belt, crouch to pull a strap under the belly, make sure nothing's pinching the wings. Small huffs of air might escape with his words from these exertions. "This curse which heightens base instincts to a point where you would proposition an enemy to not be an inconvenience to another enemy." You personally had a hand in destroying he doesn't add. But he's putting any current relationship between Irhya and Emet-Selch aside in favor of a reminder of their shared past.
The Emissary closes his eyes and calms himself down. "I am concerned you are not currently capable of following through upon rational thought. Do not treat it as disdain or a matter of selfish behavior. But as a symptom of a condition that I will acknowledge you are suffering." Rising, the Emissary pauses to regard Irhya over the expertly crafted and no doubt flashy saddle.
Of course, he can't help but have some disdain or bias toward mortals. They both probably know it. He's spoken directly about it. But he seems willing to acknowledge that this case is a little different than the usual mortal tropes. Elidibus sets about checking the fit of the saddle while letting Irhya mull over what he just said.
Indignant, she opens her mouth to shoot off a response, but the instant, scathing reprisal doesn't come out. Her jaw clenches.
"Look," she says finally, "if you're that beside yourself that I asked you personally, fine, I get the message. But Emet is-- he's--"
Still an enemy, her mind throws at her, and she can't find reason to dismiss it. But he doesn't really still feel that way, right? It can't be, if he's been so kind to her, let her do all the things she has, even more or less acknowledged her as a friend.
The mental image of him placing the orange crystal into her hand is hard to scrub from her mind.
"I already told you I was trying not to pester him, and I am endeavoring to continue that. But I think you're letting some of your 'mortals are stupid' get in the way here." She might be contrary by nature, but not where it concerns other people's well-being. Her own, maybe. Not his. "I'm fine. He'll be fine, too. I'm not going to push him. How many times must I tell you before you're satisfied?"
"Look at you," Elidibus says with a frighteningly accurate mimicry of Ardbert's speech habits along with the general voice and charming grin, "using 'Emet' as if it is a personal name and not a proper title of office. Don't tell me that puca has rubbed off on you as well?"
If Irhya is keeping track she may mark a moment of 'getting under the Ascian's skin'. While he may be intentionally goading her, there is a little bit more irritation in the words than is strictly needed. And he certainly didn't have to lay the Ardbert on thick.
In any case Elidibus is on edge. While not flustered by the Warrior of Light's earlier proposition on any level, Emet-Selch's death experience and what it might actually mean was more than enough reason to have shorter patience than normal. Lahabrea and Emet-Selch may be here now but there was a time when they were not. Recent events served as a harsh reminder of the fragility of their circumstance.
The charming grin disappears. "Mortals are foolish. Harken to your own words. In the same breath promising you won't trouble another, leaving it ever a conveniently open possibility. Why should I be satisfied when I have seen what mortals do with such vague promises?" Elidibus won't deny his bias is not influencing his outlook at least. "Perhaps consider how oft deeds are more telling than spoken words, Warrior of Darkness."
The way he gives her title suggests a slight crack to the carefully caged emotions of anger he harbors to that particular person. Whom in another time and place is, after all, Irhya.
"Stop using his godsforsaken voice," Irhya growls tightly. They're getting to that point again, not unlike what often happens with her and Lahabrea. But it is interesting to note the sheer intensity of emotion he's displaying right now: the taunts were never this pointed, the anger never this direct, not when he could barely remember his reason for clinging to it in the first place. It had always been there in some measure, surely -- but how pronounced it comes out here is mildly surprising.
She glances from Filia back to Elidibus and says, "You'll hardly know if I do choose to keep my distance from him anyway, so even if I promise you that, of course you wouldn't believe it. But... dare I say we are both a tad too irritable right now to continue this conversation either way."
Without me decking you first, Ardbert's face be damned, she adds mentally.
Walking backwards without breaking her gaze on him, she leans against the side of the house, crossing her arms and looking sour. "So perhaps it is best you take your leave for now."
Filia is not graced with the blessing of sentience that sometimes comes to her kind after a century or so of life. She is young and it would be decades before something of that nature even manifests if it does at all. But she is smart enough in her own right to recognize the tension in the air and the emotions behind them. In particular those manifest under the careful veneer of her recognized owner. The amaro lets out a trilling noise those familiar with the beast would recognize as comforting, leaning her head closer and trying to press it against the brown-haired witch's chest.
It is sentimental and sweet and honestly not entirely lost on Elidibus even if what comfort may be accepted is on a subconscious level. A touch of surprise and a glance at the amaro observes the steed's responses before a soft sigh follows. Though the Ascian guides firmly Filia away from butting against his chest it is not lacking in gentle action or a discreet soothing gesture. Perhaps it is calculated to seem like he's going through the motions needed to settle a distressed animal. But there is much left to interpretation.
"I will not distress you further then." Same tone but at least Elidibus has returned to his particular brand of reserved formality with the words. He's calmed down at least- gone is the edges of anger in his words. He does not hide that he had emphasized the way Ardbert speaks intentionally, either. "But I will make no promises to not 'use his voice', as you so succinctly put it." There are reasons beyond what Elidibus admits, though Irhya need not know the Ascian doesn't have the capacity to do more than an exceedingly skilled mimicry of his real voice. Tired, stressed, or injured there will just be times he cannot help but sound like a shockingly formal Ardbert.
Elidibus frowns slightly. He'll certainly not arrest Irhya's movement to put distance between the both of them but he will remark on the assumption spoken of in the retreat.
"I ask you not presume what I will and will not know, nor what I will believe, Irhya." At least he returns to using her given name. Though she has unintentionally touched on another slightly sore spot, this time the Emissary keeps his temper in check. "I will be watching."
During this time he has finished the barding's arrangement and fitting - excellent fortunately otherwise how awkward would things have been? - and performed a hasty cleaning of tools before storing them away again. The functional saddle and tack are gathered up. Wisely the decision has been made to carry it with rather than put it back on. One might think it would be awkward to ride away from the encounter on a fantastic showpiece at this point but as Elidibus pulls himself into the saddle, there is a dignity presented that seeks to push such odd matters into the background. The spare saddle is braced before him.
Rather than further words, the Ascian favors Irhya with a short nod before nudging the amaro into a trot which will turn into a faster pace once they have reached the road. At least until they are out of sight. He could have offered words on the work completed but at that moment it seemed like it would have been too much. Word will be sent later of the gear's success.
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Even if it didn't there is a matter the Ascian is now interested in since the Warrior of Light has spoken about it. So the Emissary is going to indulge the moment. Approaching from the opposite side of the table- the side which Irhya pushed the saddle to- Elidibus brings a chair with him and sits down.
"Have a seat and show me this piece of jewelry. I cannot promise it is not beyond my ability but I will examine it nonetheless." But it won't be without cost. Elidibus moves the saddle to the side so there is enough space on the table between them. "In exchange, I wish you to tell me in detail why you do not trust the Coven."
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"You might've heard, but maybe about a year and a half ago, Dorchacht was basically a dystopia. Monsters were under a city-wide mind control spell to make them subservient, cruelty and abuse ran rampant, and any dissenting voices were taken by their Coven and used as materials. By which I mean, sedated and hooked up like batteries to power the wards over the city, slowly drained of their magic."
A pause. She grimaces. "That, of course, is all Dorchacht's former Coven, but there was another incident a few moons later in which several handfuls of people were captured and tortured by a family of anti-Mirrorbound nobles, who believed we were doing more harm to their city than good. They were caught, tried, and summarily executed, the lot of them... but it made me realize that there are more people out there that are afraid of us than not. And that Aefenglom's Coven is likely among them, considering they can't control the influx. So... I don't think the kindness they give us is unconditional."
Her fingers flex on her other hand, eventually finding a spot to grab her shirt sleeve on the arm she has extended to him. "In this case, perhaps it's just me being irrational, since I've yet to hear any conspiracy theories about our Coven. But I think it is true that they look out for their city first and foremost. If we ever became a burden to them... I don't want to find myself indebted."
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The utterly typical repetition of what mortals will do to one another.
But the Emissary is not unaware of the dangers these risks currently are to him and his brethren. Hence his keen interest in the information Irhya can provide. And her mention of the Coven's altruism not being considered unconditional earns a glance. "Such matters should go without saying. No matter how civilly Mirrorbound are treated, the Coven and their ilk are our self-appointed wardens in this prison."
The hatred is real and a reminder the Ascian may go through the motions but is hardly to be expected to believe in the lie of 'acceptance'. He turns back to his study of the enchantments tied to the ring. His emotions return to their typical calm.
"Perhaps the Coven were once more generous to the newly arrived than what I experienced, but that matters little. The solution to your concern is simple. If you desire to not be in a position of debt to the Coven, then be certain you give payment. Money seems acceptable enough. Should the gratitude of the service lead to the belief you somehow owe more, then you have only yourself to blame."
Elidibus releases Irhya's hand. "I do not have the skill to undo this enchantment. In another half month's time... perhaps. Yet I expect you wish it to be taken care of sooner." Oddly, there's a bit of frustration in the soft sigh which follows.
"It's an inelegant solution, but I would be able to enchant another item of jewelry to resist the curse." The Emissary calmly regards the miqo'te vampire. "It will do nothing to relieve your current physical arousal and it will not be permanent. But it would allow you to find someone to remove the cursed ring without further influence from its effects to distract you."
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It'll just require her to swallow her pride and perhaps consult her fellow Mirrorbound for a more permanent fix. Irhya leans forward on her elbows, looking half-attentively somewhere in the vicinity of his hands. "Of course, I don't want to be indebted to you, either. What do you want in return?"
Unfortunate that he doesn't count the sex as the something in return, she thinks with dry sarcasm. Though he hasn't really offered a clear answer on that bit, either, come to think of it... But she holds her tongue for the time being out of caution.
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Setting aside other issues, the Ascian would likely not engage in sex as payment, given that deal would conveniently handle the other problem Irhya previously stated a desire to take care of. Hardly a 'payment' when it is to the miqo'te's advantage. It is good that she holds her tongue.
The Emissary affords the Warrior of Light a faint half-smile. "I had no illusions that you would have enjoyed a debt to me." He had considered that an open-ended favor owed may have been gained had Irhya not paid attention to the lesson in his words about owing the Coven. But it seems he had more concrete payment in mind. Just in case there was some hope for her.
The saddle near him is tapped. "I remember the designs and sketches you created for this. I would have them all. That will be how you settle this debt." Whatever concepts, sketched designs, the imagined glimpse of Amaurot under a blue sky. Why he wants them is not easily read from his expression.
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"These?" Curious. She stops to wonder why for a brief moment, and her mind immediately jumps to the idea that he wants them as a reminder... for a city he quite possibly doesn't fully remember. It's the simplest explanation, anyway, knowing what she knows about him. Handing them off, she looks him over again, evaluating.
"I'll need to run upstairs to get the jewelry," she says. "But have fun with those, I suppose."
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"I will await your return." If she had happened to look back before going upstairs, she might have seen Elidibus open his mouth again to say something else only to close it again and settle into thoughtful repose.
It's for the best, really. While pragmatic, it may not have been very tactful to point out he was willing to wait around if she needed to take a while to compose herself while gone. Or perhaps he realized it would be better not to seem as though he were goading the Warrior of Light unfairly.
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"Ugh... here. If you please."
Well, it was nice while it lasted. Her tail moves briskly, as if trying to work off the stress through just the movement alone.
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Upon her return downstairs, she will notice Elidibus has been preparing while he waited. It is simple enough. Where he has settled at the bench now has a handkerchief size piece of silk spread and he has removed his gloves. Direct contact with the object he wishes to impart magic into, the Ascian has discovered, produces better results for the time being. It would be best if his hands were bared for such detailed work.
Once the bracelet is handed to him, Elidibus nods. There is a moment wherein he regards Irhya quietly, taking note of her agitation. Well, it's to be expected really. Somberly he offers instruction. "I would ask you not interrupt until I am finished. This will require a certain level of concentration. Likewise, do not allow anything else to disturb my focus."
It is a bland instruction but it also imparts a certain sense of trust. Time is given for Irhya to respond before the bracelet is set in the middle of the silk cloth. Lifting a hand and spreading his fingers- as the Warrior of Light has no doubt seen the Ascian do as a habit of his spellcasting back home- the Emissary slowly lowers the palm of his hand to touch the circle.
Magic is called upon, focused, and shaped with words. Words that are spoken in the Ascian's ancient language in heart and mind but are twisted by this world's laws to emerge as Aefenglom's native tongue. Which is good in a sense. It means Irhya can listen in on the instructions he's imprinting. There won't be any tricks. Not that Elidibus had intended there to be any.
Some of the vocabulary and terms used may be on the complex side. But it is the nature of his intent and the way he has come to express spellcasting of this world. Until the day he has managed to reach a level of proficiency that does away with all the extra steps, much of his spellwork is an.... inadequate translation of the visual exercise of creation magic.
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There is a pang of something raw in her chest, though whether it's associated with the interminable desire the curse has her under or something a little different, it's difficult to say. Her eyes move as she listens to the enchantment, apparently able to track most of it mentally, just in case something sneaks in that doesn't align with their agreement. No such thing happens, however, so she relaxes after a while, letting her thoughts drift when the chant stops.
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This time everything is in order. The enchantment on the bracelet will, for a limited time, be able to block further effects from the arousal aspect of the curse. The bit about getting the ring removed from the finger seems beyond his power. At least not without a very brutal and pragmatic (though probably messy) solution.
Irhya probably doesn't want to lose a finger though.
Slowly moving his hand back, the Warrior of Light's attention may be brought back to Elidibus as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. A trace of sweat on his brow suggests a certain difficulty of the exertion even if his expression does not otherwise show it.
Maybe there would have been more power available to him closer to the new moon. But it would not have been worth swapping out for the 'difficult to control' part. Or the wait.
"There. It should prove adequate. Please try it on now." Naturally, the Emissary will make certain it works. "Even if you feel no immediate difference, I will be able to ascertain its success."
He did, after all, mention it would not do away with current symptoms.
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"So... does it work?" she asks, holding it up to look from different angles. "It almost looked like you had a hard time with it... though I've admittedly no concept of these things and their level of difficulty beyond what I knew back home."
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"Hm. It appears to be holding. And both ring and bracelet are active," he says after a proper pause. "I designed the resistance to prevent the ring's influence on your body's physiological desire to mate. It should also block any further mental influence such as the lowering of inhibition which might accompany it."
Elidibus fixes his gaze steadily on the miqo'te. "There should be no further inclination to ask your sworn enemies to alleviate your symptoms simply because they are a convenient presence."
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For her current situation, though, she's not about to press. Probably not happening unless she were in some kind of mortal danger, or he were somehow indisposed -- which, given how cautious he is, seems even more unlikely. But at least she knows for the next time she goes to buy enchanted jewelry.
"So... thank you for that. Trouble though I'm sure it was for you, I'm grateful."
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"I would suggest you also avoid troubling Emet-Selch with the 'physical aspect'. I recognize you do not see him as the enemy he once was. Yet he is still recovering from recent events. I fear physical exertions may undo considerable progress."
Yes. Elidibus is as straightforward as ever. Though this last matter does seem to have been expressed with some real show of concern. Concern for Emet-Selch maybe, but concern nonetheless. Having had a moment to catch his breath, the man stands up and starts reaching for the saddle and sketches.
"While I acknowledge your gratitude, there is no need to express it. I merely performed a service and you paid in kind with these design concepts." Pragmatic too and perhaps a harkening back to their earlier conversation about not letting gratitude suggest Irhya owes him any more than he's already been paid.
It is also in his best interests to have her rational and not awkward in future encounters.
"As before I will fit the saddle. If you wish to stay inside I will only return if there is some adjusting to be considered."
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A sigh. "I'll come out, too. I could never turn down a chance to say hi to Filia." Maybe the cool air will help settle her mind, too, she thinks. Certainly, her calling him over has been productive, but she can't shake the slight unease from his request to lay off Emet. He could just be trying to drive a wedge between them using reason as his excuse... after all, it's likely that he and Lahabrea are still less than pleased about it. And maybe she is just being selfish, in the end, but...
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Filia had been dozing in the last rays of the sun- which has now pretty much set- and gives a sleepy warble of greeting when the two emerge from the cottage into the early evening. The newer saddle is set down beside Filia while Elidibus begins the familiar process of removing the current tack, saddle, and padding. From one of the saddlebacks comes tools that will make sure the amaro's shaggy coat is laying properly before thinking of putting on the new saddle.
When it's like this one could be tricked into believing it is Ardbert. Perhaps a bit too quiet during the work- one might picture a cheerful conversation with Filia to occur- sure. But the focus denotes certain care in the task and the fondness Filia displays as she enjoys the grooming is sincere. And when he does speak up, it is with Ardbert's 'voice' again as they are in a public place. Elidibus still takes care with that. The words though?
"I don't particularly care if he chooses to indulge you. Though I hope you are referring to a general statement of shared intimacy and not that you have been troubling a man recently back from the dead and still covered in visible injury?" It's very pointed. "I would be disappointed if you did."
Elidibus may well dislike Irhya's relation with Emet-Selch. It may even equal Lahabrea's displeasure. But what seems to matter to him currently is how it is going to affect the physical recovery of the Ascian in question. And he's going to voice it whether or not the Warrior of Light might end up displeased hearing it from 'Ardbert'.
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"You say that like I wasn't injured too," Irhya replies dryly, squinting at him. "Besides, didn't I already tell you my whole purpose in asking was to avoid being too much of a pain in his arse about it?"
A part of her wants to go off further, about how she doesn't care about his disappointment or his general dislike of her bond with Emet-Selch, but she manages to turn her thoughts in a slightly less inflammatory direction. "And if he wasn't up to it physically or in the mood for it, I wouldn't push the issue." She crosses her arms, digging her fingers into her sleeves. "I'm not as much of an ingrate as you seem to think I am."
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More likely, it's that attitude Ascians have toward mortal tedium which so often manifests. Being trapped in a mortal body and having to experience matters at their level has hardly alleviated Elidibus of a millennia-long prejudice.
"Ingrate...?" The vocabulary momentarily gives him pause. Elidibus understands what she means but it indicates he's a bit distracted that he even dwells on it. An impatient sigh escapes him and he finishes with the tools. They're set aside to be cleaned out and put back later. For now, he starts working on the new saddle. "Far be it for anyone other than myself to presume knowledge of what I am thinking. But it is not on of your lack of gratitude."
Cinch a belt, crouch to pull a strap under the belly, make sure nothing's pinching the wings. Small huffs of air might escape with his words from these exertions. "This curse which heightens base instincts to a point where you would proposition an enemy to not be an inconvenience to another enemy." You personally had a hand in destroying he doesn't add. But he's putting any current relationship between Irhya and Emet-Selch aside in favor of a reminder of their shared past.
The Emissary closes his eyes and calms himself down. "I am concerned you are not currently capable of following through upon rational thought. Do not treat it as disdain or a matter of selfish behavior. But as a symptom of a condition that I will acknowledge you are suffering." Rising, the Emissary pauses to regard Irhya over the expertly crafted and no doubt flashy saddle.
Of course, he can't help but have some disdain or bias toward mortals. They both probably know it. He's spoken directly about it. But he seems willing to acknowledge that this case is a little different than the usual mortal tropes. Elidibus sets about checking the fit of the saddle while letting Irhya mull over what he just said.
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"Look," she says finally, "if you're that beside yourself that I asked you personally, fine, I get the message. But Emet is-- he's--"
Still an enemy, her mind throws at her, and she can't find reason to dismiss it. But he doesn't really still feel that way, right? It can't be, if he's been so kind to her, let her do all the things she has, even more or less acknowledged her as a friend.
The mental image of him placing the orange crystal into her hand is hard to scrub from her mind.
"I already told you I was trying not to pester him, and I am endeavoring to continue that. But I think you're letting some of your 'mortals are stupid' get in the way here." She might be contrary by nature, but not where it concerns other people's well-being. Her own, maybe. Not his. "I'm fine. He'll be fine, too. I'm not going to push him. How many times must I tell you before you're satisfied?"
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If Irhya is keeping track she may mark a moment of 'getting under the Ascian's skin'. While he may be intentionally goading her, there is a little bit more irritation in the words than is strictly needed. And he certainly didn't have to lay the Ardbert on thick.
In any case Elidibus is on edge. While not flustered by the Warrior of Light's earlier proposition on any level, Emet-Selch's death experience and what it might actually mean was more than enough reason to have shorter patience than normal. Lahabrea and Emet-Selch may be here now but there was a time when they were not. Recent events served as a harsh reminder of the fragility of their circumstance.
The charming grin disappears. "Mortals are foolish. Harken to your own words. In the same breath promising you won't trouble another, leaving it ever a conveniently open possibility. Why should I be satisfied when I have seen what mortals do with such vague promises?" Elidibus won't deny his bias is not influencing his outlook at least. "Perhaps consider how oft deeds are more telling than spoken words, Warrior of Darkness."
The way he gives her title suggests a slight crack to the carefully caged emotions of anger he harbors to that particular person. Whom in another time and place is, after all, Irhya.
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She glances from Filia back to Elidibus and says, "You'll hardly know if I do choose to keep my distance from him anyway, so even if I promise you that, of course you wouldn't believe it. But... dare I say we are both a tad too irritable right now to continue this conversation either way."
Without me decking you first, Ardbert's face be damned, she adds mentally.
Walking backwards without breaking her gaze on him, she leans against the side of the house, crossing her arms and looking sour. "So perhaps it is best you take your leave for now."
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It is sentimental and sweet and honestly not entirely lost on Elidibus even if what comfort may be accepted is on a subconscious level. A touch of surprise and a glance at the amaro observes the steed's responses before a soft sigh follows. Though the Ascian guides firmly Filia away from butting against his chest it is not lacking in gentle action or a discreet soothing gesture. Perhaps it is calculated to seem like he's going through the motions needed to settle a distressed animal. But there is much left to interpretation.
"I will not distress you further then." Same tone but at least Elidibus has returned to his particular brand of reserved formality with the words. He's calmed down at least- gone is the edges of anger in his words. He does not hide that he had emphasized the way Ardbert speaks intentionally, either. "But I will make no promises to not 'use his voice', as you so succinctly put it." There are reasons beyond what Elidibus admits, though Irhya need not know the Ascian doesn't have the capacity to do more than an exceedingly skilled mimicry of his real voice. Tired, stressed, or injured there will just be times he cannot help but sound like a shockingly formal Ardbert.
Elidibus frowns slightly. He'll certainly not arrest Irhya's movement to put distance between the both of them but he will remark on the assumption spoken of in the retreat.
"I ask you not presume what I will and will not know, nor what I will believe, Irhya." At least he returns to using her given name. Though she has unintentionally touched on another slightly sore spot, this time the Emissary keeps his temper in check. "I will be watching."
During this time he has finished the barding's arrangement and fitting - excellent fortunately otherwise how awkward would things have been? - and performed a hasty cleaning of tools before storing them away again. The functional saddle and tack are gathered up. Wisely the decision has been made to carry it with rather than put it back on. One might think it would be awkward to ride away from the encounter on a fantastic showpiece at this point but as Elidibus pulls himself into the saddle, there is a dignity presented that seeks to push such odd matters into the background. The spare saddle is braced before him.
Rather than further words, the Ascian favors Irhya with a short nod before nudging the amaro into a trot which will turn into a faster pace once they have reached the road. At least until they are out of sight. He could have offered words on the work completed but at that moment it seemed like it would have been too much. Word will be sent later of the gear's success.