*back*

Empal left the room, and the students all started muttering. Weyland stood and approached Kell carefully.

"Kell, you can't be serious. He's a whole lot stronger than I ever-"

"He's a monster," Kell said again, "and I must deal with him as one. Don't you think I deserve that much? Or his son down there?"

"Kell there are some things you need to know first!" Weyland said, frantic. "The revivication isn't -"

"You saved me," Kell said, turning and suddenly her face was full of love. Weyland choked. Then, she asked, "... isn't what?"

"Isn't complete. It didn't work. Not the way I thought it would, anyway." Weyland admitted. "You ... your body will decay, Kell, I've put your soul back - it'd fled. But it's ..."

The students knew better than to hang around close by - privacy issues and all that. But they clung in groups near the door, in the hall, trying to listen.

Kell walked to Weyland and saw that he shrunk from her touch. She looked at her hand, it was growing pale grey.

"I'm still dead?" She said, "but I... I actually feel pretty good. I can think clearly for the first time in years."

"That's because the curses are finally gone," Weyland groaned, "but... the last one killed you, and I did this to you..." He turned away, but Kell refused to let him get any farther.

"Weyland, you did what you could. Why ... are you ... what must I do to be..." Suddenly Kell was a bit confused and wary.

"You will need something, a potion I can make - I'd read about it somewhere. There are ways to keep your body from degrading."

"Is there any of it right now?" Kell asked, thinking.

"I mixed up some, and put it in a preservation box, yes."

"And ... can it repair wounds this body might get?" She asked, oddly.

"It can, it's supposed to act like lifeblood."

"Then, go get it ready. I have a duel to win."

Kell walked away, head high and bare feet too cold to notice the rough stones of the floor.

***

The day was lovely, cloudless. A breeze tickled leaves above and around the wide castle grounds, and threw some pollen into the air from flowers. The students of the magic school that Weyland had assembled clung around him, he'd found the potion he would administer to her.

Kell stood with her face to the sun, bathing in the heat. She could feel auras all around her - including the odd bubble of Empal's son. It was a bit wobbly, she could somehow feel it reverberating.

How would this play out? She didn't even care. All she knew was that the rage inside her had turned into a sleek hatred, and she knew nothing but curses.

She could use that to her advantage, surely. Empal approached with three guards and his wife in tow, the woman was trying to stop him from going through with this match.

He shrugged her off, and removed his cloak. Kell was dressed only in a simple long tunic that had been given to her since the last clothing she had was stained beyond polite wearing.

She had no wand, no defensive spells, knew very little other magic than her innate ability to sense auras. But that was more than Empal thought she had. With his arrogant smile plastered on his thick lips, he settled his hands on his hips and rolled his head around.

"I'm surprised you actually allowed the wench to follow through," Empal called to Weyland. "She's going to cost you," he then warned.

"You will need to learn how it feels," Kell said right back, snapping her eyes onto his form. "Tendrillis Muris" she said, and from the ground sprang a dozen thick vines of grass that wrapped around the Lord. He was doubtless taken by surprise, but his mouth was left free.

He shouted a hex that burnt through the air, and cut a path brightly around Kell's body. Her hair swept back, and her tunic caught flame, she ignored it for a moment until she decided she didn't much feel like being burnt again after having been healed. She thought about it, and muttered, "vis ab aqua" and the flames were doused with magical wetness that came from nowhere.

"This is much easier than I ever thought," Kell said, glancing at Weyland who was just as surprised as anyone to see her incanting properly. She noticed that the tunic was now burnt and soggy - neither of those things she wanted to deal with. She removed it, and her pale scar-covered body was exposed to all. She seemed not to notice, nor care. She should have been well rounded, in her eighteenth year, but she was almost gaunt. Not because of her state of death, but because she'd been starved for so long. Her pale skin was crossed with grey, scars that had long lost their blood.

"Do you like this? What you see? You did this." Kell said, holding her arms wide.

This merely enraged Empal. He broke free of the tight vines, but before he could get off another curse Kell looked him over and said, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"Constrictus!" He yelled, and Kell knew what would come next. Her body felt as though it was in a grip of steel. She didn't know enough words.

But she wasn't growing short of breath, because of this. She didn't require air - only to speak. Her heart - was still. It could not be crushed. She took a step forward, and Empal stood straight as a pole.

"What is this," he whispered.

"This is me, teaching you a lesson." Kell snapped out of the curse, and said, "acerbis bilis."

Empal began to vomit, hard, onto the ground. Great heaves wracked his body, and even his guards backed away a little. No one moved to help him, that would be breaking some rule.

Kell walked up close to him, and pulled his head up, careful to aim it away from her. "You forget, I spent nearly two god damned years in that place, listening to nothing but curses. Having myself bled, raped and beaten. You did this to me, this is the least you deserve. The very least."

She threw her hand down, and he continued to wretch. "This duel is over," she said, "for the moment."

She walked back to the students, and no one was sure whether she wanted another tunic.

***

People in the castle were dark and snippy. Empal was well aware that he'd lost his own duel, but he was now more worried about other outside things that grabbed his attention. All those attacks on bits of his land, they were coming to a head soon. He knew this, he'd helped plan it. But... Not so soon.

Kell watched Weyland teaching, as they distractedly got back into some kind of schedule. She sipped at the black-green liquid that served as her blood. It wasn't bad, really, tasted a bit like grass mixed with oil. Only a bit.

When the class broke up, the students mostly avoided eye contact with Kell, even though she had a smile on her face most of the time now. A strange strength had come into her, but many people mistrusted it - they mistrusted the undead.

Weyland continued to create the concoction for her, it wasn't all that difficult but there were some more rare herbs which would run out sooner or later. They were among those which his contact had lost, and he wasn't sure where to find another supplier. It had not been long enough to start harvesting that particular herb since the attack some years ago.

He explained in a distant tone about the rarity of the herbs, and how each one might work in combination. He taught Kell how to mix them, what proportion to use.

He studiously avoided touching her. When she wanted to get closer, she needed only to look at his eyes. They were full of fear, and worse: revulsion.

She hopped to the corner of his desk, and sat there, legs dangling. "Tell me what I am," she said. "Why am I this way?"

"... Because I used the wrong spell." He admitted.

"So it cannot be changed, I can't be brought back to life?" Kell asked, yet she was oddly not so disturbed about it, knowing the answer.

"No. Not that I know of. Not that I could perform." Weyland sounded positively miserable. "I am so sorry. I did this, it's my fault you're--"

"I do not blame you, Weyland!" Kell said, "I'm feeling good again. But you say that these herbs will be getting harder to find. Where do we get them, then? What happens to me if I can't drink this stuff?"

Weyland went silent, Kell saw him mulling something over. She waited, until he said, "there are other options, but ... I suppose I must tell you anyway." He looked at her, his dark blue eyes filled with worry and self-loathing. "Revenants ... like yourself, can live on certain things. Usually, it's... It's blood."

"I'm a vampire?" She said, surprised.

"No, no, vampires aren't at all like you." Weyland said. "No, revenants souls' remain in their corporeal shell, it's a strong binding spell. Your personality is present, your soul registers - the other Sight-gifted students know it's you and not some illusion of you."

"They've told me," Kell said.

"Well, the potion I give you can restore your body, keep it flexible and prevent it from decaying. It's ... that's all it can really do, though."

"That's not half bad, I have to tell you," Kell said.

"But there is already a cost." Weyland said. "Your spirit and mind are permanently tied to your body. No matter what condition it gets into."

Kell thought about this, "you mean, if I was to be hacked up, or stop drinking this potion of yours..."

"Your body would degrade, but your soul would remain with it."

"Stuck in the ground, like a skeleton in a box?" Kell asked, a bit worried.

"Yes."

"I don't think I could bear that. I'll keep drinking it, thanks."

Weyland paused, before saying, "Blood would bring more color to your skin. It would probably start your heart beating again."

"I don't have a heart beat?" Kell said, somewhat surprised and she felt her chest - cool fingers against cool ribcage. Not a single thump, and she realized that she only took in a breath to speak. "Oh."

Weyland continued. "You would be warm, you could bleed, I think. But there would be a price to pay - as all things that consume blood seem to pay."

Kell nodded, "I would start to lose my humanity," she said, and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Weyland, why won't you get close to me? Is it that I'm ... I'm cold," she said, looking at her arm. It was slightly grey-blue, but not unattractively so - she thought.

"I've done this to you, and I ..." Weyland could hardly bear to say it. "I'm ashamed of having ruined it. You ought to be alive, Kell, you ought to have drawn breath and lived."

"So I remind you that you failed to save me, even though I'm here telling you I appreciate every minute I'm around you?" She said, and even though that could have sounded harsh she hardly meant it that way.

Weyland remained somewhat silent. He bit his lip, "... yes."

"Then, Weyland, even though you know I love you, you can't get over that?" Kell asked, tilting her head. She still sat on the corner of the desk, a rakish ragdoll. She grinned. "Weyland, I do love you. You don't have to love me back for me to do that."

Weyland furrowed his thin eyebrows. "Kell, I want to."

"I want you to as well. But I can't come back to life, for you. Not the proper way, right?" He nodded, and she continued. "And if I take blood, it'd make me more a monster than a living thing even though it'd bring me up to room temperature?"

He couldn't stop the laugh that she provoked. "I don't know how it would be for you. You're very stable - far more so than I ever expected you to be."

"When I came here I was desperate, crazy and starved. Hurt." Kell said. "But I'm comfortable. I had a decent education, you know. My parents weren't really rich but we had more than most. They had to go blowing it on foul books and trying to raise some godawful demon like the one that killed me."

"Oh - Kell..." Weyland said, starting to say something, but then stopping abruptly.

"What?"

"I - never mind." He stammered.

"No, really. I think it sounds important."

"I think it is something I'm not ready to tell you," Weyland said. "It sounds like something that Empal or Carnos would tell you just to make you hurt."

Kell blinked.

"Your parents, Kell, they almost succeeded in bringing their demon up. They ... found someone else to sacrifice. I heard about it about a year after I'd put you into preservation."

"And... so they killed somone else? They murdered someone?"

"A child that had wandered about the town, I heard. It's all second hand information, Kell, but from what I heard the demon killed them, and was subdued by the local magical authorities. There was nothing anyone could do."

"They wouldn't learn, they didn't stop even when I ran away," Kell said, blandly. "Weyland, don't think little of me, but they deserved it. Murderous fools."

Just about then, when they were both a bit more relaxed and feeling friendlier, one of the students ran in, huffing and puffing. "Do you feel that?" He gasped, looking at Kell.

She stood, and started moving her head around - gazing in all directions at once with her keen Sight and Senses.

"I... I do - what is it? It's coming from that way," she pointed, then upon thinking about it she realized that it came from Bolec Keep's direction. "It's like a humming, a beehive, like the static from wool only far off." She paused, then jolted a little. "It just got a lot closer."

She stood, and Weyland followed his students into the courtyard beyond. Kell narrowed her eyes, and then turned away, walking toward the main hall.

The other students had gathered, outside, some meeting Kell on her way back in. She walked with purpose toward Lord Empal. Once she'd attracted his attention by merely entering the room, she announced, "you ought to know that there's a large force of strong magical nature coming toward us, from Carnos' direction. If you're going to defend your lands, now would be a good time to do it."

Then she strode out.

*next*