Chapter Three, Scene One

Armana led the group to her house and into her kitchen. “Move that,” she said, pointing to her heavy worktable.

After Shaog dragged it aside easily, she grabbed a long hook from beside the fireplace and inserted it into a small hole in the ground. A quick twist and the floor lifted up silently, revealing a narrow staircase leading into darkness. Armana whispered and several lights appeared in the darkness. “Bring him down here and set him on the table in the center of the room,” she instructed as she led the way down.

The room was large, easily as large as the whole house above. In the center of the room was a large stone table that sat mere inches off the ground. It was engraved with several designs and carvings which Shoag assumed were magical in nature. The walls were covered with shelves holding books, scrolls, jars and bows filled with roots and dried leaves. He felt it odd that the room had a crisp, clean scent. Most cellars he had been in were damp and musty. Smells that offended a minotaur’s sensitive nose.

Armana had gone to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a large desk, and was gathering several items into a large, unwieldy bundle as she muttered to herself. Finally satisfied, she joined them beside the wounded minotaur. She placed several candles in small holes in the table. He placed one at the head and at each hand and foot. She then ground dried herbs, leaves and roots in a large mortar.

“Senji, I need a fire going in the brazier, please,” she said. “There is some wood next to the fireplace in the kitchen.”

“Shoag, I need some water in this,” she said as she handed him a brass kettle. “Halfway full, please. And it has to be clean.”

As the two left on their errands, Durjaan said, “What of me, how can I help?”

“Since you ask, I need the floor next to the table swept clean. Murgen’s place is in the table, but Shoag will be on the floor. It has to be clean for me to inscribe the proper sigils and wards,” Armana answered.

Durjaan nodded agreement and looked around for a moment.

“Senji,” Armana called out, “there is a broom next to the wood, can you drop it down for Durjaan, please?”

A moment later, the broom clattered to the floor and Durjaan started his cleaning. Once he was done, Armana knelt and started to draw.

“Ok, child,” she said, “listen and remember.”

“What did you say,” Durjaan asked.

“Oh, my apologies. I am speaking to Talyssa. She is still here with me, watching and listening. I am going to teach her what I can as I go. There is no way I can teach her everything I know. But I can teach her simple things. Now, please step aside as I perform the thissal inika,” she said.

“Now, back to your instruction dearie. Many who practice the art use chalk to draw their symbols, or thissal. Chalk works, but is easily marred. If you grind the chalk and mix it with waxes, you can create a thissal that is not easily damaged. Inika is healing magic. Healers use herbs, roots and other organic components to healing. But I found long ago that even simple things like the color of the sigils and wards we create have an impact on the spells we cast.”

“When you leave, I would like you to have my books. They would have gone to my daughter, but now,” her voice dropped off to silence as she paused to collect herself. “But now, you are fated to be the heir to my skills. It is as the gods will it. Or at least I assume it is the god’s will. I have no other explanation as to why my spirit still walks this land to help you and your friends.”

Senji had returned and had started the fire in the brazier. The coals glowed red with heat when Shoag returned with the kettle of water.

“Senji, when the water is boiling, I need you to pour enough into the mortar to wet the ingredients completely, but not so much as to over top it.” Armana instructed the healer. “Then mix it into a paste. There is a vial of red oil, add all of it to the paste and continue mixing, please.”

After Senji nodded consent and followed her instructions, Armana kept drawing and instructing Talyssa. “Red is the color of life, it is in the blood that courses through our veins. We use the red chalks for the healing symbols. Blue is the color of power. Green is the color of love. Orange is the color of order. This spell we are creating affects life, and order but will harness the power of Shaog’s love for his cousin. This is important. Learn this lesson well, power is finite, but the intensity can be increased and harnessed through association. Like calls to like. Both Shoag and his cousin are minotaur. We could have used Amuul as an energy donor, but as he is an ogre, the spell would not be as effective. Using a human would be even less effective. Family ties bring an increase in the sympathy of the spell. Brothers would be more sympathetic that cousins, but with how close the two are, it might be just as powerful.”

She completed the diagram and stood. “Shoag, take care not to step on or mar what I just created and lie down on the floor. Your head needs to be placed here,” she said, pointing to a pink symbol, “and your feet down here.”

Once Shoag was settled, she used a fine paintbrush and the paste mixture to paint matching sigils on the two minotaurs. She finished the designs and lit a taper from the burning brazier to light the candles.

“First we must heal the physical wounds.” Armana said. She added a handful of dried herbs to the brazier and a soft, pungent smoke filled the room.

She chanted in a low voice, her words, soft and rhythmic. The words were meaningless to the witnesses of the ritual but the chant followed a steady, repeating beat that lulled Senji and Durjaan into a fugue state, they eventually slid down the walls and slumped to the floor, half asleep. The chant affected Shoag even deeper and he drifted into a deep slumber.

“Interesting,” Armana whispered, “that spell is supposed to target the donor, yet it seems to have an effect on your two friends, child.” She paused for several moments before saying, “Child? Talyssa, are you asleep too? Fekt! Never have I seen this before.”

She shrugged and continued with the ritual, chanting her spells and working her magic. Just over an hour later, she was finished. Spent and with little energy left, she joined Senji and Durjaan against the wall and all five were soon snoring deeply.

The sun was high in the sky when Kestral finally woke Senji, vigorously shaking her awake. “Gods,” she said, “what happened here?”

Senji came to her sense, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. “I have no idea,” the orc answered. “The last I remember, Armana was casting her healing spell. Then, nothing.”

After being shaken awake, Durjaan stood, stretched and rubbed his lower back. “By Drunnda’s backside, I feel like I slept on a pile of rocks. Everything aches. What of the girl? Is she awake? And Shoag and Murgen? Did it work?”

Senji and Kestral both shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” Kestral said. “I woke the two of you first. I didn’t want to mess with the magic….stuff. Nothing good comes of magic.”

“You might need to rethink that, my friend,” Shoag grumbled weakly. “In the past day we were saved by a magic use. A dead magic user, to boot. How is Talyssa?”

“She will not waken,” Senji said. “Her breathing is strong, though she is a bit pale. Her pulse is good and strong. Whatever she did, it seems to have left her exhausted.”

“Fine, we let her sleep then. Kestral, take her upstairs and put her in one of the beds. Better up there than down here on the floor,” Shoag instructed. “Senji and I will look after Murgen.”

“Good, good,” Durjaan said. “I will head out to the camp and check on everything. I assume if anything bad had happened, Kestral would have let us know.”

“We have repaired what we could, sir, but we lost one wagon and two horses were too injured to continue,” Kestral replied.  “They had to be put down. Kip and a couple of your drivers butchered them. They are smoking the meat now. I have no liking for horsemeat, but I did not like just letting it waste.”

“You made the right decision,” Durjaan replied. “If anything, this incident should be a reminder that bad things happen.” His voice dwindled with distance as the two climbed upstairs and left the house.

Shoag was tired, as tired as he had ever been. As he sat on the floor next to his cousin gathering his strength, he admitted to himself that, no he had NEVER felt more tired. This was a bone deep exhaustion like nothing he had ever experienced, and never wished to experience again. His knuckles ached as if he had been grasping his axe in battle. His joints were stiff and his muscles quivered with exhaustion. It took every ounce of effort he had simply to sit upright and not fall over.

“Well, cousin,” he rumbled. “I do dearly hope this has been worth it.”

“Let me help you,” Senji instructed, holding out her hands. “You look like death, old friend.”

“I feel like I just danced with the Reaper and barely escaped.” He accepted her help in rising. “She did not say anything about feeling like I just fought a battle.”

“You look a bit worse for the wear. You have quite a bit of gray in your hair that was not there before,” she noted. “Do we assume that a side effect of giving your cousin some of your life force would be to age a bit?”

He harrumphed a noncommittal answer as he stood and stretched expansively. Though the room was large, it was not tall and his horns touched the ceiling.

“I feel older. Maybe that will go away,” he said. “I don’t think I am up to lugging his large ass up those stairs. Go get Amuul. Between the three or us, we should be able to drag his carcass into one of the other beds.

They succeeded in carrying the comatose minotaur upstairs and put him in the largest bed. Though large and sturdily built, no human bed was made to hold a minotaur and it groaned and creaking in protest to the abuse. After making sure his cousin was comfortable, Shaog found the third bed crawled in. Unlike the large bed, this one could not take his weight and the legs collapsed, leaving the straw stuffed mattress on the floor and his feet hanging off the end.

Senji checked on her three charges before she took to a large stuffed chair in the main room, kicked off her boot and fell soundly asleep