(1875-09-28) You'll Kill Him?
You'll Kill Him?
Summary: Elian asks Myrana a few questions on the evening of her rescue.
Date: 28th Sep 2019
Related: Myrana-is-possessed stuff
NPCs: None
Players:
Elian  Myrana  

Room Name
Room description
IC date of RP

The campsite is plain and simple and Elian has proven to be remarkably useless when it comes to anything more practical in that sense than grooming the horses. And so he steps away for a while, leaving Ivo and Myrana to catch up, before returning to claim some food and then vanishing for the first watch. Its when Ivo's taken over that watch that he seeks out Myrana.


Myrana is sitting by the little fire, wrapped up in a spare cloak. A pot of water steams next to her; she's washing her face with a kerchief and the cloak is wrapped about her shoulders like a blanket, covering her bare arms.

As she hears Elian approach she looks up, water dripping to her elbows and pattering on the thick wool. Small deer antlers are still braided into her hair, which must have made it rather precarious to sleep. "Sir Elian," she greets him quietly. "How is your leg?"


Elian sits down across from her. "I think I am going to be able to tell the weather by it." he studies her as he talks. "But it not really bothering me." He pours some spare water into a kettle and eases it over the heat to boil. "I have a great many questions." he purses his lips. "But I think I will start with the attack on the Queen. What actually happened?"


It wasn't the question she was expecting. It startles her a little, and she looks down at the cloth in her hand.

"I didn't shoot her majesty," she says, and instead of washing her face goes to trying to scrub the dark stain of the paint they'd used on her arms and legs. Since she can't scrub her barely healed arm in its sling, she works on an ankle instead. "My husband and I went to an audience with the Queen to object to the Falling Blade, and to reject the Inquisition in Gendiel. We- I believed the Queen would hear us."


"And then you were set up." Elian says thoughtfully. He looks back across at her. Eyes intent. "Do you know who it was?"


Myrana grips the cloth. "No. The Cardinal was in the room with us, behind her Majesty's shoulder. The bolt came from outside the window. It scored me here," she says, parting her hair a little at the temple to show Elian a small fresh scar where the crossbow bolt skimmed her in Lyionesse. "Ramius believes they were trying to shoot me and missed. I don't know; I think someone knew I'd be unable to stay in that stuffy room without opening a window, and so set an assassin outside the room to kill the Queen." Myra resoaks the cloth and goes back to scrubbing the stain off. It's working a bit, but not as well as she'd like. "Either way, it's my fault that her Majesty was wounded. I should have remembered how easily the rooftops can be accessed, and left the window shut."


Elian rubs at his jaw, looking tired now. "So the cardinal is rotten then. Do you have any insights on how he might be removed?"


"I don't," says Myra, rather unhappily. "Ramius and I believe he is the creature behind the sealing of Rikton, but we have no proof. I wasn't sure before, but I am now."


Elian tilts his head slightly. "Quite an accusation. Do you have proof of all the things he has done?" he leans to check the kettle. "It will be hard to organise an attack on him without something to justify it."


"Do I have proof that he's an inhuman monster? No," Myrana goes to scrubbing her face. The horn mask was cleaned, it seems, but not enough for her. "I can't even prove that I didn't bring a crossbow into that room, nor that I've never so much as drawn one successfully. He has all the cards." She lowers the cloth and takes a fresh breath, face scrubbed quite sufficiently to bring colour to her cheeks and set her skin to tingling, bangs messed up and askew. "I have documents that show the Church's claims for changeable and fickle, and their Witch Hunters assassins of convenience, but nothing on the Cardinal himself. He is too clever for it, and my word is worthless, as you can imagine." Cleaning her hands, she shifts under the cloak, trying to get warm. "My goal now is to find a way to preserve Aequor."


"I thought as much." Elian says "And you have been rather thoroughly discredited. I doubt anyone remaining in Aequor would simply take your word for it." He lifts an eyebrow at her talk of preserving Aequor. "Do you intend to invade and conquer it then?"


"God no!" Myrana seems genuinely horror-struck by the idea. "No, Gendiel won't attack Aequor."


"Then you intend to swear fealty again?" Elian asks her seriously. "Or are you intending to preserve Aequor as she is?" He finally gets to pour himself out a cup of hot water and wraps cold hands around the steaming cup. "I am not saying I think you made a poor decision by rebelling. I suspect you had no choice. I am just trying to understand some part of what motivates you because I to want this war to end. It is part of what I need to discuss with you. But Ivo will need to be there so it will have to wait." He blows gently on his cup. "Have you been a sorceress for long?"


Swear fealty? Myrana gives up on trying to scrub off any of the stuff that's stained her. Who knows what herbs they used in that paint, but its set in good. She sighs, wishing she had something to change into besides these cult clothes. A sleeveless shirt and a split skirt don't make much for pajamas. "Perhaps," she responds. "If it can be done, perhaps. If nothing else, Ramius and I have no intentions of making Aequor smaller. We will defend her if we can, but we must protect our people from the Witch Hunters."

And speaking of witch hunters. She glances at the knight. "F..for as long as anyone else," she says, drawing her knees up closer to her chest inside the cloak. "I've tried to hide it, to protect my kin."


"Do you know any sorcerers?" She asks, looking right back at Elian.


"I know OF two." Elian says "Princess Atreis and that dragoon from the Westwar and now you of course." he sips at his drink again, watching her over the steam. "I do not know much about it. I" his mouth twitches. "Need to learn."


Myrana sighs. "If you will swear to keep my family's secret, I will tell you anything you like," she says, quietly. "If the Witch Hunters came for Fiorello I should never forgive myself. I… nevermind," she says. "I'm sorry. I haven't slept."


"It is to late to try and get that sort of a promise from me." Elian points out. "But the fact you call it your familys secret is interesting." He goes quiet again for a long moment before asking. "Are you going to swear to Princess Atreis?"


Myrana tilts her head at Elian. "When the Witch Hunters are involved, any secret like mine must be my family's as well. They will come and burn us out to the last. I don't want that for them." She shivvers. "Would you for yours?"


Elian drinks his hot water and then sets the cup aside before telling her. "I don't believe al'Callenta has any sorcerers amongst its line. My cousin is too devoted." Bundling a blanket around him he stretches out in the place set down earlierthe fire for this purpose. "You should sleep whilst you can. There wont be a lot to be had in the coming months."


Myrana sits up for a while by the fire, thinking. Unable to lie back down as thoughts chase themselves like rabbits around her as the crickets and mosquitos fill up the night. Many of them circle back; If Elian al'Callenta tells the Witch Hunters…

«'You'll kill him?'»

It startles her, but it doesn't surprise her. Myrana jerks where she sits in a huddle of cloaks, then makes herself lie down and pretend to sleep.

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