Surrendered To The Lord Of Sin-Chapter 43: Dreams alike

Oh, Lucrezia thought. She hesitated just long enough to seem thoughtful rather than intrusive, "How so?"

Water sloshed softly in the basin as Eldris rinsed the last plate and handed it to Lucrezia, who dried it with careful, unhurried motion.

As expected, the woman did not respond immediately. She set the last cup upon the shelf with deliberate care, "Elia sees things," She said at last, testing her words. "Not often the things that are already known, but things that are bound to happen,"

Lucrezia lifted her gaze at that, appearing attentive but carefully neutral. "Children often do," She replied mildly. "Imaginations grow freely when emotions collide. Isn’t that what it’s supposed to mean?" She asked, wiping her hands on a cloth before putting it aside.

A corner of Eldris’s mouth twitched, something that was not quite a smile. "If only that were all," she murmured then rested her palms on the edge of the counter. "They are neither dreams nor mere imaginings. They manifest in reality whenever she comes into contact with someone, mainly sparked by the friction between them," She explained.

Lucrezia’s breath stilled as she listened. She’d never... heard of such. The idea of someone peering into her, uncovering the parts she kept hidden even from herself, made her chest tighten. But the thought of someone so young carrying such weight was entirely worse.

She could only imagine how awful it was to see through people beneath skin and bones alike. Their thoughts, their ideas... their future.

Noticing her reaction, Eldris’ gaze held hers, "It terrifies her as much as it terrifies anyone else. But she does not always understand what she is seeing. It is raw, unfiltered... and it can be dangerous. But it’s safer to allow her understand those premonitions are just mere imagination,"

Lucrezia nodded in understanding. It was only a matter of time before the little girl came to understand their true meaning. But at this time, she was still a child. Their minds are fragile, and their comprehension also, making it easier to convince.

"That must frighten her family," She couldn’t help but say, appearing in a daze. She wondered how they felt about her situation. Knowing fully well they didn’t cast the little girl out as she was since childbirth, made the tightness in her chest loosen.

"It would if they knew the extent of it," She agreed and her gaze flicked briefly toward the door Elia had exited through, as though ensuring the girl was well and truly gone. "Her mother believes the fevers she once had left strange marks on her mind. It is easier to let her think so,"

"And you?" Lucrezia asked quietly, and the woman looked at her. Firelight traced the sharp planes of her face, deepening the shadows beneath her eyes, and the sharp jawline of her face when she opened her mouth to speak.

"I know better," Those words carried certainty, and for a moment, Lucrezia tried to imagine how much the middle-aged woman had seen. How much she knew.

"And if the one she touches carries... darkness?" Lucrezia whispered in a tight voice. It made her curious.

"Then she feels it," Eldris said simply. "It presses into her, and she cannot run from it. She reflects it, amplifies it sometimes, whether she wishes to or not,"

Lucrezia swallowed hard from the weight of it settling over her like a shroud. The idea that a single touch could unravel a person, reveal every secret they had buried, or even manipulate them, whether for good or ill, filled her with a kind of awe-laced terror she had never known.

She kept her expression composed, schooling her features into gentle concern rather than interest. "You protect her, then," She noticed. It made sense why the woman let the girl train here under her watch. Someone with that kind of ability should never be left alone.

"As best I can," Eldris’s voice softened. "The tonic helps by dulling the edges. Gives her rest from what presses too close, and stalls it from recurring,"

Lucrezia absorbed this in silence and returned to finalize the chore before her. It was only after a moment that she spoke again. "You live far from any village," She started. She’d always wondered why she lived here, buried in the depth of the forest. "Why is that?"

A pause stretched between them, long enough for the fire to shift and settle. When Eldris finally spoke, her voice was lower, stripped of its professional calm.

"People do not welcome what they do not understand," She said, and Lucrezia’s eyes met hers in curiosity. "And they destroy what they fear,"

The weight of those few words settled heavily on her shoulders. She did not look away, patiently waiting for the woman to continue.

Finally, "I was not always alone," She continued. "Nor did I always dwell here. I once served openly and studied among others like me. We believed, foolishly, that restraint and goodwill might absolve us of our nature,"

Lucrezia’s brows furrowed in confusion. "Others like you?" She echoed gently.

Eldris’s gaze sharpened. For a heartbeat, Lucrezia wondered if she had pressed too far, but then the woman gave a short, humorless laugh. "You are quite perceptive for someone newly arrived,"

She didn’t reply, unsure whether to take that as an insult or a judgment. She doubted the former.

Eldris studied her more closely now, as though reassessing every quiet word, and at last, she nodded once. "I am a Mage,"

The word settled into the room and an unsettling silence followed suit. Lucrezia let herself react only with surprise. Mage? She thought. "I thought..." She trailed off, then corrected herself. "I was told mages were long gone," They weren’t only extinct, but their race as well, leaving their kind written as history.

"So were Dragons and their wielder’s," Eldris said. "And yet, one lives far north in control of the mightiest Dragon alive,"

Lucrezia knew of that as well. The only true last Dragon wielder, Lady Ravenna Crowhurst, was betrothed to Lord Black Crowhurst, one of the Seven Sins. She’d heard enough rumors and gossip to keep the latest information, enough to understand how her current situation puts her at no little risk.

"They were hunted," Eldris went on, dragging her attention. "Burned, drowned, torn apart in the name of divine order. Magic became synonymous with corruption, and perhaps, that was not entirely unearned. The Realms made sure of that," And then she straightened, staring into those ocean-blue eyes. "I withdrew before the purges reached their worst. But it did, and Lord Vaeron found me at that time,"

Lucrezia felt her heart skip at the mention of his name. She didn’t and couldn’t understand why little details about him seemed to... convey such reactions from her.

The idea of him saving someone almost seemed impossible to believe. A creature like him derives pleasure in murdering others rather than saving one.

Lucrezia forced herself to remain composed. "How... long have you lived? Alone, I mean," She asked, unaware of how to balance the question without sounding insincere.

"Since I was twelve,"

Lucrezia’s mouth formed ’O’ as she absorbed the knowledge. It disturbed her even to think of someone living all alone at that early age. Despite being abandoned in the Red Keep at Veximoor, she had Madelyn who always kept her company. She couldn’t imagine how lonely it was for someone to live alone in a space such as this.

"And how did you manage to cope with such... solitary?" She asked instead. The chances she’d survived amazed her even more than the thought of living alone.

"Survival is a force," She simply said, and gave a small smile.

Lucrezia let herself absorb the knowledge. She didn’t even realize she’d sat on a stool beside the woman, until her gaze fell on the window.

"It’s late already," Eldris said, noticing as the night pressed closer. "You can rest. I’ll finish with the rest,"

At that, Lucrezia rose, smoothing her gown. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Eldris inclined her head. "It’s nothing, Milady,"

Just when she turned, about to leave, a thought crossed her mind. Lucrezia hesitated, then added lightly, "I hope you will forgive one more question."

Eldris gestured for her to continue.

"That tonic you give Elia..." Lucrezia paused, choosing her words with care. "Is it supposed to dull her sleep?"

She nodded. "Yes,"

Great, she thought. "I wonder whether such a draught might help those troubled by lingering pain. Nightmares, perhaps. Recovery is not always kind to the mind,"

A careful silence followed as soon as she ended. Eldris’s eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but in discernment before responding. "You ask for yourself," she said quietly, reading through her scheme.

Lucrezia did not deny it and met the woman’s gaze steadily. "I-I ask because I would rather not burden others with... restless nights,"

If she was going to survive and avoid the last occurrence from repeating, this was the best way. She didn’t know when they would be returning to Dreadwyn, however, a part of her believed it wasn’t anytime soon. She couldn’t allow her uncontrolled abilities to show up unannounced, luring them towards her again.

For a long moment, Eldris said nothing, and she felt her heart race slightly. Lucrezia thought, believed even, that her request would be ignored. She’d asked more of the woman more than she could count, and expected this reaction in return.

Just when she was about to speak, Eldris moved to the shelf, selecting a small vial stoppered with dark wax. "One dose," She instructed, holding it out. "No more than that. I may not know everything, however, it’s important you know that it soothes, not erases. You should keep that in mind."

Lucrezia was caught off guard, but accepted it anyways. "That is all I would ask. Thank you,"

The woman acknowledged it with a slight nod. "It’s nothing, Milady," She said.

Lucrezia inclined her head. "Good night, Miss Eldris,"

"Good night, Milady." She called after the Lady who ascended the small stairs, into her chamber.

***

The next morning dawned brighter than the last, sunlight slipping through the trees in pale gold threads. Lucrezia woke before the cottage stirred, and made her way to the bathroom, changing into a clean dress Eldria left behind.

After breakfast, she made her way to the clearing. Today, she felt different. Lighter, perhaps, and she didn’t doubt it was the effect of the tonic she took last night.

Elia greeted her with unrestrained delight, bow already in hand, hair half-braided and half-forgotten. "You’re early," the girl said proudly.

"So are you," Lucrezia replied, readying her stance. "Shall we begin?"

That day, and the days that followed, settled into a rhythm neither forced nor fragile. Lucrezia taught Elia more than archery; how to listen to her breath, how to stand without bracing for the world’s cruelty, and how to let tension go instead of carrying it like armor. Some lessons were spoken about while others were simply shown.

Thankfully, Elia learned quickly. Too quickly for a child of her age.

Sometimes, she loosed an arrow before Lucrezia spoke, correcting herself instinctively. Sometimes she paused mid-draw, frowning, and said, "It doesn’t want to go that way," before adjusting her aim and striking true. Those days seemed impossible, but it was worth it.

Each evening, Lucrezia returned to the cottage more tired than she remembered being, but it was a good tiredness. The kind that made sleep come without argument. She took the tonic only once, as promised. It dulled the sharpest edges of memory, but left her mind her own.

A week passed like this.

A week of quiet laughter, of meals shared and stories half-told. She’d come to realize little Elia only visit thrice in a week, leaving her alone with the woman, and helping out in little things to keep herself busy.

When it was finally time to retire for the night, Lucrezia bid the woman goodnight and left for her room. She stayed awake for a moment, reading the books she’d borrowed from the kind miss.

It wasn’t anything special. They were spell books she’d found captivating, deciding to keep them. Although she couldn’t understand a single word, she enjoyed reading and learning their symbols.

It was almost midnight when she concluded, yawning as sleep beckoned. Blowing off the candles, Lucrezia walked towards the small bed and got under the blanket.

It didn’t take long before she fell asleep. And there, she dreamt.