A Most Wicked Response

[Katarya Frost]

Kat stepped up to the office of House Lericyro's clerk. She inclined her head when she placed her hands on the desk. "Greetings, I am Katarya Frost," she said. "I am here to revoke my wit of trading".

The man grunted and reached back to a large logbook.

Holding up two fingers, as discretely as she could, Kat whispered a word.

The air grew colder. but the man looked up, blinking.

Kat inclined her head. "I am awfully sorry to put you to this task, but I heard the most frightful rumour." She lent in closer. "I had heard - on good account - that Mr. Black's writ was a forgery! It was a duplicate, no less."

Kat reached out and took offered writ with an incline of her head. "I am sure a house as prestigious as Lericyro will do all it can to investigate this matter."

The clerk mumbled something and made some quick notes, while Kat simply tucked her bag under her arm and nodded to those around her. "Good day."

Above her, a raven called, but Kat's stride did not falter.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

“Sir?”

House Lericyro clerk Thomas shook his head and stared at his desk in abject confusion. He had been doing something terribly important. Something about a- he started as he noticed the ragged looking man and woman across from him. He instinctively held up a finger to waylay any further interruptions and examined his desk.

Thomas was a stickler for orderliness, all things belonged in their place at all times. It was this deep need to tame and subdue documents and ledgers that had earned him a position as a trusted clerk. It was his own greed and boorish desire to berate others for their own organization that had placed him squarely in the squalid East District office.

He glared at the untidy documents on his desk, it was the folder for North Rigging street, open to the contract for the thirteenth plot, but the entire thing was tilted just to the side. He straightened it and noticed a hand scrawled note sitting on top that simply said ‘writ forgery, remove Katarya Frost’, also not straight.

“Sir, are you alright?” the useless rag-wearing woman asked him when he spent several long seconds simply frowning and grunting at the papers. He snapped his glare to her and felt pleasure as she shrunk back. Mentally conceding Thomas put the hastily written note into the folder and closed it. He’d simply have to file it properly later.

“What’s your business with House Lericyro,” he said in his nasally drone, already desperately wishing the man and woman would leave him to his filing.

[Helo Tarran]

Outside the White Hart, Helo lent with his back against the wall, idling his time away. He had popped inside to ask after katarya, but the curt older Elf at the counter had informed her she was out, and had given very little information on when she might return.

So he sliced his way through an apple and waited.

Soon, his wait was over. Appearing round the corner the woman he had shared a bed with strode. He was a little taken aback; she seemed - colder. Her eyes were icy and her face no longer seemed so kind.

He pushed himself up from the wall and touched his cap. "Good afternoon, Miss Kat." He said, giving her a smile. "I'd been hoping to catch you - might I carry your bags inside?"

[Katarya Frost]

Katarya had been lost in thought - conflict almost. What had she just done, and why? Had she really become such a spiteful creature? She had loved Artemis ... she still did, in some strange way. She was changed; she knew that. It was almost concerning how cold and vindictive her actions were becoming.

She glanced up as she rounded the corner and found Helo, lazily eating an apple and lounging happily outside the White Hart. She stopped and looked at him for a moment, noticing something on his face. Concern? Nervousness.

Nevertheless, she dipped her head and smiled. "Aren't you kind?" She remarked before handing over bag.

For a moment, she looked at him, then realised by his eyes that she might be making him uncomfortable. "Please; allow me to repay your kindness with a glass of wine. I, for one, could certainly use one."

Without waiting for a response, the young witch strode in the inn.

[Helo Tarran]

Helo had taken the bag, bit had certainly been unnerved by the way she had looked at him. What was she thinking?

The Changeling had been with enough women (and at times, men) to know when there was lust in a person's gaze ... but she was regarding him with those strange, cold eyes, as if he were a curiosity. Something told him that he should be wary.

"A drink sounds great." He said, without remarking on the fact that it was not yet noon.

Helo took her bag and followed her into the tavern. He waited while she spoke to Elára for a moment, and at her gesture followed her up the stairs to her room. His mind couldn't fight off the happy fact that she wanted to drink with him in private! What could this mean? Maybe another repeat performance of their coupling? She might not be the most beautiful woman he had ever been with between the sheets, but she had a form of magnetism that was very alluring; she acted as if she were a Duchess ... expecting to be obeyed at every turn ... and despite himself, he found imself doing just that.

When they entered her rooms, he placed the bag down and took a seat. The Changeling glanced around, looking at the old books, the chalked symbols on the door, the feathers, strange rocks ... even a dagger! Surely in a place as averse to magic users as Fellsguard, you would think someone would be more careful? Was this woman so sure of herself that she could act with such blatancy?

"So what are we drinking to?" He asked, with a smile.

[Katarya Frost]

Elára had made it clear that Kat needed to see more patients to secure her monetary contributions for her stay, but the young witch had handed over enough to secure her place for the next few months. Her new employer from House Nyshasa (she refused to think of him as her 'master' or any such way), had made sure she's be comfortable, and had been free with his purse.

The Elven woman had raised a brow, and Kat feared for a moment that she would ask where the young witch had gotten this much money, regretting paying so much upfront. But Elára had simply nodded, taken the money and, as usual, dismissed Kat by simply turning back to her work as if Kat weren't even there. It was actually a relief.

She turned to Helo, who stood holding her bag, and who gave her a charming smile as she approached. "I think we'll drink in my room. I'm not really in the mood for the early drinkers. Shall we?" Not waiting for a response, she moved up the stairs.

***

"So what are we drinking to?" The handsome young shifter had asked as she poured the wine.

With her back to him, and obscuring his view, she took a small vial from her pocket containing a cloudy red liquid, and put a few drops into one of the cups. Pouring wine into them both, she gave the one with the mysterious liquid a quick swirl, then turned and smiled, handing him the very same cup. "I have no idea. Would you like to suggest something?" She took a seat and a sip of her wine, watching as he too took a drink.

"Nice!" Helo said. "You have good taste! As to what to drink to ..." He put a finger to his lips, in a mocking display of being deep in thought. "How about your eternal radiance and magnificent mind?"

Kat laughed. "Or your way of being able to spin a yarn? Perhaps you should have been a bard?"

Helo took another drink. "It's been suggested before! But alas my fingers are not so skilled as my tongue." He took another drink; it was delicious!

Kat sat back, tapping her finger against her cup as she smiled at him. "Oh I can assure you, Helo; both of those do a most excellect job. Finish your drink," she ordered. "And we'll put them both to the test; just to settle the argument."

Helo sat up in his seat, grinning widely, a stirring in his trousers. "Yes, Miss Kat!" He said, draining his cup, and putting it on the table. "Whatever you say!"

"Good boy." Katarya said, her eyes on him, a small smile on her lips.

***

Giving Helo a firm shake, Kat nodded to herself. The sleeping potion had done it's job and the handsome young Changeling was snoring softly on his bed, half of his clothes off.

The witch moved to her desk and took out The Book, going to a particular page she had been studying for a long time, and finally feeling (somewhat) confident about the whole thing. She fished some chalk out of the draw of her dressing table and began the long process of putting the symbols required for the spell she was about to perform.

Since this was also one of the most powerful spells she had ever performed, she spent even longer putting wards to contain as much of the magical energy so that every mage in Fellsguard wasn't going to get prickled by what she was about to do.

When all was prepared, she summed Nyx, who came flapping to the window, cawing as she came.

"All will be well, my dearest Nyx." Kat said absently, then moved to stand over the sleeping Changeling.

Holding out her hands, Kat focused her strength and magic; forming the spell in her mind before she crafted it with words. Drawing in more energy than she had ever done before, she began to speak.

"I claim you Helo Taran of Ajteire. I claim your blood and spirit. You are now my creature and will obey me. You will never lie, nor withhold. To seal this pact, I give you my blood. She took the dagger from her table, wincing as she made a small cut on her palm, then holding it over Helo's mouth, using the other hand pull down his jaw. A few drops of blood dripped into the sleeping man's mouth. "By the power of the Old Ones and the New; you are mine!.

The temperature in the room plummeted, and frost formed over ever surface, including both Helo and Katarya. Nyx cawed in alarm, and the witch staggered back, holding on to the table as her head span. She thought for a moment she might throw up, but managed to take a seat and breathe her way through the feeling. She looked down at her hands; at the frost that covered them, her eyes going to the desk, the chairs, the wall; ice and frost were everywhere. She looked to Helo, and his half naked body too had a sheen over him. "Ny'tha forgive me." She breathed, pulling herself to her feet and throwing the blankets from her bed over him. Even that left her breathless, and though she herself didn't even feel the cold anymore, she knew enough that he had to be kept warm until the after effects of the spell past.

Climbing onto the bed, she wrapped herself around his blanketed body, staring off into the distance. What had she done? How was it that she could feel so little one moment, and then such regret the next? She had made this sweet, innocent man her bound servant. Why?

She sighed and pushed herself closer to him. "Because I can." She whispered.