The cities and villages of Melrath are as varied and diverse as they come. The capital of Raelia is the the jewel of this western kingdom, playing host to a merchants, artisans, Aesir priests, as well as a cut throat political landscape dominated by the nobles of Raelia. To the south in the depths of the Myrkvior Forest lies Melrath's second largest, and oldest city, Fensalir. Here people have learned to live alongside spirits and the natural world by maintaining their loyalty to traditions laid down the first Melrathi. To the east lies the small fishing village of Noatun, and to the western mountains rests the Mer city of Verimeer, the brewing town of Alivilda and the alpine village Vormund.
While the paper bag seemed to have stopped the panic attack, Zih was still stuttering, Tristan observed. The young noble was starting to get a bit desperate because he had never met somebody that was that nervous before. For a moment, he actually considered using Elithem on her in order to make her feel better because he just couldn’t bear it when somebody was that obviously uncomfortable. A moment later, he remembered that the Melrathi really disliked the Immortals though, and his visitor would definitely notice if he suddenly started to glow (it was a side-effect of Zanik’s Blessing).
So, he did the only thing he could do. He started to talk about ferns as well. “Ferns are pretty nice, aren’t they?” he remarked cheerfully, hoping against all odds that the tone of his voice would make her feel marginally more at ease. “They are good for potions, and they make nice decorations as well. I sometimes put ferns into a vase. What do you do with them? Are you by chance some sort of herbalist? I’m a bit of an herbalist myself. Back in Rynmere, I grew all kinds of reagents in my garden”, he told her, momentarily feeling a bit wistful. Rynmere had been fun, but then the plague had hit and killed more than half the population, including some of his relatives and his dear friends.
As Zih grabbed the potion and downed it in one go, Tristan watched her with bated breath and a bit incredulously because he hadn’t expected her to drink it that quickly. “Really?” he asked as she informed him that it had been disgusting. “Do you think it would help if I added a bit of honey to it? I don’t want my potion to taste disgusting”, he remarked before he fell silent and watched Zih closely for any sign of an adverse reaction to the potion. Apart from feeling slightly nauseous, she would experience a bit of vertigo and confusion that increased as Mistral finally jumped off of the shelf, walked over to her, positioned himself directly in front of her and meowed again, more loudly this time.
After a while, the meows slowly began to resemble actual words, and then Mistral informed the poor frightened and nauseous Yludih in a rather haughty tone, “You know, the Sessfiend sculpture is actually not the worst thing that he made. You should have seen the sculpture he made of Aelig. People ran away screaming when they saw it. Of course, I understand what you say, by the way”, he remarked. For a moment, she would have the impression that Mistral rolled his eyes.
“I’m a special cat”, he proceeded to point out. “That Faith-woman claimed that I was a failed necromantic experiment. Did Tristan tell you that I actually come from the Misty Miasma though? I was someone important there”, Mistral informed her in no uncertain terms and added, “Don’t think that I’ll start to purr and show you my belly now just because we speak the same language!”
As they waited for...something to happen with every fiber of her being she wished the man would just be silent. It was obvious her nerves made him uncomfortable but his chatter was not something she was used to so how was she meant to respond? She wondered if he would make a potion to still her chatter, how did he think with all the noise and the cat talking? Abruptly, her body jerked back as it began to speak, gibberish at first then Common. Zih was unable to do anything as is spoke at her like it had been waiting for the moment since the dawn of time.
How?
How was it his cat talked just as much as he did?
The Yludih hadn’t expected it to work at all but of course his cat was much like he was. Cats were like their people…weren’t they? If she were honest, she hardly knew. The nosey cats she met before reminded her of their nosey stall owner, this chatty cat reminded her of its chatty human too. Maybe they were all like this. Either way it was graceful as it leapt in front of her. Which was something she could focus on as she stared stupidly between the cat and Tristan.
A strange sense of not being the room leveled her. It was as if she were watching from a different person’s eyes. It wasn’t her sitting while the cat sassed her, it was someone else, and her brain was taking notes on it. There was nothing to feel because it wasn’t her. Or something like that because her mouth answered on autopilot without looking away from the black creature gazing at her.
“Honey or a-any syrup, I use it for si-peop-colds. For colds. Um…” Her voice faded. The woman meant to say she was a doctor. Maybe she could tell him she was one to cover her earlier panic but instead she found her lips forming entirely different words now. “He-he talks!”
And like that the damn burst, her gaze now on Tristan instead of the cat, some her nervousness washed away by new panic. Abruptly her body sunk into itself like she was weighed down and sinking to the floor.
“He sa-says he talks! He-Faith-Who-I-“ The words stuttered too fast to make sense then her head whipped to the cat, eyes wide. “You! Other-do-more cats! Do more c-cats talk?”
By now Zih had pushed out her chair and was pointing between the two with shaking from the tips of her fingers down to her legs. Would this thing turn off? If other cats didn’t talk would she had to come back? What in the name of all Immortals had she been thinking? There was nothing medical about this! It was as strange as her own biology and twice as frightening, her face pale as she stepped back, half sure she’d faint.
“I’ll add some honey then“, Tristan told Zih. “I think honey’s best. I’ve used honey before – as a binder. Most of the time, it doesn’t seem to affect the other reagents negatively”, he remarked.
The latter was a big problem when it came to alchemy. You needed to make absolutely sure that the reagents didn’t cancel each other or affect each other negatively lest a perfectly good potion suddenly turned into dangerous poison – or your laboratory (or kitchen) exploded.
The latter had happened to Tristan before, back in Rynmere.
He had had to replace all of his furniture afterwards.
“So you are a healer”, he realized a moment later. “Where do you work? Is there a hospital in Raelia?”
“Yes, he talks”, he confirmed, grinning. “He does that from time to time.”
Mistral who was still standing in front of Zih and looking at her from out of his sulfur-yellow eyes let out a sigh as she wondered who Faith was.
“Faith Augustin”, he said somewhat impatiently. He seemed to roll his eyes again. “One of the most famous women in the world. Don’t say that you’ve never heard of her! Tristan and Faith were rather close when they both lived in Rynmere, back before she got married.”
“Faith tried to bathe me once”, he told her. Cats didn’t show their feelings the way humans (or Yludih that looked like humans) did, but for a moment Zih would have the distinct impression that Mistral made a face.
Apparently, he didn’t like being bathed. At all.
“The other cats do of course talk as well”, Mistral continued. “They aren’t as intelligent as I am though. They are rather easily manipulated and don’t care about anything other than mice. I tried to eat a mouse once. It was revolting”, he informed her.
Apparently, Mistral had rather refined tastes.
Tristan’s head went back and forth as Zih and Mistral talked. He didn’t understand a thing of what Mistral said – because he had forgotten to drink a potion as well. For a moment, he was rather worried that his cat would spill all of his secrets and start to gossip.
He had thought he’d heard the name “Faith”. Had Mistral … Seven, he hoped that he hadn’t told Zih that Faith had been his slave once! He didn’t want anybody to know that!
He was just about to ask Brandon to bring him a vial as well so that he could make sure that Mistral behaved when Zih started to shake again. Tristan’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at her because he was at a complete loss now. She obviously needed help, but he had no idea what kind of help she needed!
“Do you need to lie down?” he asked. “Do you need the paper bag again? There’s a nice bed in the guest room if the sofa isn’t comfortable enough. I could also quickly brew a calming draught for you”, he offered.
His chatter went right over her head. Medicine, salves, and the like were one thing but the technical terms often alluded her and she knew nothing of alchemy. So all she could do was nod stupidly, faster nodding when he asked if she was a healer. If he thought she worked somewhere that was fine. Everything was fine. Zih was perfectly fine she just needed a moment. Of silence. But the cat and it's master never stopped. their words going in her ears and settling like old memories that made no sense. Her own thoughts simply refused to function, as if she were a she were a bird had forgotten how to fly and was plummeting to Idalos. And when she hit she jumped. The world in sharp, clear sudden focus. The Yludih had never raised her voice in her life but now her words came out without a stutter, still far too soft to be considered scolding but the firmest she'd spoken in her entire life, her foot even tapped out a small stomp of frustration.
"Both you stop it!" She closed her eyes against them. She breathed heavily through her nose, almost snorting then continued while she had the energy to do so, "I don't need a bag just give me a moment. Silence. Please."
It was the most she could get out before whatever had come over her crawled back to let her settled in to her more familiar, and arguably less comfortable state of frazzled nerves. Eyes still closed to them she focused on forming the words behind her eyes lids, hands reaching to let herself sit tentatively. It wasn't her intent to offend either of them but both of them at the same time was far more than Zih could handle. Everything had happened so quickly she was sure she'd never forget him and it was likely he'd want her for more information on his first attempt at this. It was a misstep. But not if she found another face, one to use instead of her current one. Still not an Outlander, but someone who wasn't being slowly, steadily, remembered. But first...
"S-sorry, I just-how does this ha-work? Forever?" She finally opened her eyes to glance between the two. Better than staring at either, with her gaze finally settling somewhere behind the cat and man to the wall of the house instead. A small smile though as she finally responded to the cat. It was a haughty thing she doubted she could deal with in large doses. "I rem-info-know of her. B-but not personally. All?"
That was startled, more of a yelp than a word. What had she done? She would forever hear cats chattering about mice! She laid her forehead in a hand, thoroughly done with the whole ordeal. She was very much a coward, and usually ran from things but this was something that defeated her in a new way because the Yludih had no idea what to do next. Without looking at either or directing the question to anyone in particularly she spoke again, the barest whisper of words.
When Zih stomped her foot and told them to stop, both the cat and its owner just stared at her for a moment, before they inclined their heads, letting her know that she would get her wish. For a moment, they looked quite alike. Maybe it was true, and pets really started to resemble their owners after a while – or was it the other way round? Anyway, for a few trills there was nothing but blissful, pleasant silence, and then Tristan murmured, “Sorry! I had no idea that I was being so loud. I’ll stop now! I promise!”
He fell silent again and watched her somewhat nervously for a while, half-fearing that she would faint after all or have a fit or another panic attack. When she asked if the potion would work forever, he shook his head. “It shouldn’t. I’ve diluted the potion. It should stop working again in half a break to a break if my calculation is correct”, he told her, hoping that this would indeed be the case. While he was almost as good an alchemist as the famous Padraig Augustin now, his knowledge of chemistry and mathematics was sorely lacking – because he considered the aforementioned two sciences to be superfluous!
“Now you wait!” Mistral replied haughtily and came a bit closer to her, moving his sleek black tail as he did so, a sign that he was either agitated or irritated. “I thought you’d be more excited”, he remarked and looked at her from out of his big yellow eyes. “After all, most humans never get the opportunity to talk to cats. Don’t you have any questions for me?”
“She’s a strange one”, he complained to Tristan who could of course still not understand him.
Tristan looked at his cat and informed him in no uncertain terms, hoping that Mistral could at least understand him, “Miss Qin doesn’t like it if we talk. I think we should just wait for the potion to wear off. I hope that you enjoyed it at least somewhat”, he remarked to the disguised Yludih and then he stopped talking again, remembering her little outburst.
Her logical part whirred, taking over as she held back a sigh or a whimper as he didn't even apologize in silence. He was possible the most difficult man she'd met in her whole life, most difficult person and that included when she'd help treat children back in Ne'haer. Even they knew when to be silent.
"Th-that's it?" Obviously this was the first testing, she knew that but it was such a brief window. So she'd have to come back. To talk. Talk to Tristan. Zih paled a bit. "Um, wh-what if prolonged if-an-or I drank a lot? It...would it-would it be p-permanent?"
That cat brought her attention back and the Yludih flinch as if struct. Of all things she'd offended Mistral, the talking cat from somewhere else. Flustered she raised her hands in apology and to ward off any potential swatting. Her limited experience told her cat scratches were not enjoyable.
"N-no! I mean-yes but-" she cut herself off, avoiding the gaze of the irate looking cat. "I...c-cats, um, animals. Y-yes they don't-I don't-people..."
Zih trailed off,struggling to find the right words but also frustrated with herself. If she could just figure out the words then she would be fine. Maybe. If she was unable to talk to even this cat what good what a cat form even do here? And when Tristan spoke the Yludih may have only projected it but her entire face was red, like a fresh plucked strawberry.
"I!" She stopped, grit her teeth and tried again. "S-sorry. You c-can talk-I just...one at a-a time? I have no p-pet-um-no animals. I d-don't know what to sa-te-ask."
A lame finish and she glanced down. Why in the name of her mother had she thought this was a good idea?
“I’m not sure what would happen if you drank a lot of potion at once”, Tristan admitted, blushing slightly because he had never really considered that particular matter before. “You might be able to talk to cats for several trials or a season or even a cycle – or you might get sick. I’m not sure if drinking a few litres of a potion that is made of ferns and other plants is particularly good for your stomach”, he admitted and scratched his head a bit as he pondered her question again.
“No matter what you do, the effect won’t be permanent though”, he continued in a somewhat apologetic tone, realizing that Zih might have hoped for something different. “Alchemy is always temporary. In order to get a permanent effect, you’d probably need Becoming or something like that – and I would advise you not to try that! Mages mutate, you know?” he pointed out and shuddered slightly. The mutations were the reason why he absolutely refused to be initiated even though people insisted that he was such a good candidate because of his moving sculptures and everything.
He liked himself the way he was, thank you very much!
“A dose of undiluted potion lasts six breaks”, he added, realizing that such might be important for her to know.
When Zih started to stammer something about cats, animals and humans, both the alchemist and his owner stared at her once more. Tristan was confused and sympathetic because she wasn’t well, and Mistral who was not a particularly empathetic creature was just irritated. The black cat had a superiority complex that rivalled that of any king!
“Just say whatever comes to your mind”, Tristan suggested, smiling encouragingly. “I won’t judge you for it, and if you don’t have any questions and would rather go home, that’s okay as well!” He was worried that nothing he said or did would ever put her at ease, but that didn’t keep him from trying because he didn’t like it when someone was uncomfortable.
The Yludih frowned, she had never eaten in excess enough to be aware of the ramifications of it but she didn't doubt the man. Too much of anything was a bad thing, though she had known very little of Alchemy either, it sounded like a strange version of medicine, half magic, half herb. But if she was to take a cat form she needed to know for sure how long it worked, how long it could be kept, and if she could make it herself.
"Th-then I can test is again...n-not this tr-trial! Excess is no-ma-bad for you b-but I, um, maybe only p-p-prolonged exp-posure? If you d-drank a lot for sh-short periods?"
It was the most she'd spoken but for once she was not worried, albeit briefly, while she spoke. This was something she knew to some degree, and if nothing else she could learn. Zih had no interest in the other things of magic or the warnings he gave. If it suited her needs, she'd do it anyway. Whatever protected her safely enough and didn't outright hurt others, then she could know she had done nothing too terrible to add to her races perceived evilness. Though not all were wonderful, neither were many humans she'd met.
"An-and this was di-cu-reduced?"
Turning from Tristan she glanced at the cat, and tried to judge how long between her panic and when she'd drank it for how much longer she had. There was no real way to form her questions. They weren't medical, and she didn't understand how to make conversation flow but she tried several times, opening and closing her mouth before shrugging, slightly helplessly. Her words were as firm as she could make them, almost used to the ceaseless chatter of the two.
"Then t-tell me al-everything. Th-the most important, um, things you t-think of until I-I-I can't hear you any-anymore."
“Of course, you can always come back for more of my potion!” Tristan told Zih. He was at least marginally relieved now. If she talked about testing the potion again, it meant that their meeting hadn’t been a total failure, in spite of her panic attack and her looking so scared and uncomfortable. He wasn’t quite sure what she had meant when she had talked about excess and prolonged exposure though. She’d stuttered too badly!
“So, what is worse for you in your opinion?” he asked her in an incredibly polite tone of voice, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended because he was asking for a clarification. “Prolonged exposure or drinking a lot of potion for short periods of time?”
“This was diluted, yes”, he confirmed.
When Zih demanded that he tell her everything, Mistral looked at Tristan for a moment, and Tristan looked back at him, as if the cat and his owner had suddenly found a way to communicate after all. A moment later, Mistral started to talk, about his life in the Misty Miasma, about the village where he had lived, the dangerous swamps, the parties they had celebrated, and how he’d gotten lost and ended up in Idalos one trial, unable to return.
He also talked about the other cats, about one cat in particular. Apparently, Tristan had been close to a young woman once, Valeria Burhan, and Valeria had had a pretty, fluffy white cat. Mistral who didn’t like most Idalosian cats had been rather enamored with her.
He also talked about forming a cat gang – but that most of the cats he had found had been idiots. He talked about his favourite food – salmon – and about beating dogs up for fun, because the dogs in this place where even more stupid than the cats. He talked and talked and talked, and then he talked some more … until his words slowly began to resemble meows once more.
The Yludih winced when he said she could come back. She would need to if she wanted to make the potion useful to her but the idea of doing another trial like this trials was...unappealing to say the least. Immortals, where did the man get his energy? But her mind was distracted by his questions, Zih didn't want to give away her own heritage but she wasn't sure either would be particularly bad for her. It was hard to tell what her body would and could fight off. In all her arcs she'd never had a fever or infection, she wasn't sure she could get ill in the same way, she might ruin his results but she could also test herself without too much worry...probably. "I-I'm not sure, we'd h-h-have to try and f-find out. I-I can come back next t-trial?"
If she were honest with herself she did not want to come here next trial but she wanted this ability, to see if it could help with her plan. If she could be an animal then she wouldn't even have to worry about human faces or people knowing her. She could come and go as she pleased, and no one would bother her. Not even the cats because without Tristans skills, no other cat could or would likely talk to her. Certainly none would paint the pictures Mistral did, or have the history of some unreachable place that Zih was both curious of and wanting to never encounter. Doubted their would be any cat to so casually talk of their human-unless all cats did-and give out both potential secrets or past nor would any talk to her of romance. It was all strange really though for all his human sounding chatter he was still very much a cat. From every twitch, and 'expression', and movement. If she looked away it was almost like Tristan was talking because even the mouth didn't form the shapes of the words different, they still looked like meowing until it was literally meowing again.
"Oh."
The Yludih strained her ears, staring directly at the cats mouth for several beats before she shook her head then glanced from the potion maker to the cat with a small furrow between her brow.
"It-It's worn off."
She hesitated after, half standing, unsure if she should immediately leave or if there was some rule she was missing. If he needed more or wanted her to try again now, not that the Yludih could. Though it had been some good information, she wanted a nap and blissful silence, the nap likely a side effect of the valerian. Still confused, she hovered above her chair and waited for some sort of social signal that said she was free of this test she'd brought on herself.
