THE CHAINED GIFT X: An unknown acquaintance

Old Fox knocked on Caradhar's door. The Spartan lodging didn't even have a window, hence it required to be lighted up with candles or oil lamps at all times. A mattress resting directly on the floor served as bed, near an almost empty chest. There was a rickety desk and a chair in a corner; in the opposite one, a wooden bathtub and a jar, and besides, a kind of folding screen with which the alchemist had equipped the room in deference to the elf's decency: the screen had remained folded an covered in dust during all those years. It wasn't the case that he lacked of consideration towards his apprentice; truth be told, Master Jaexias' lodging wasn't much better, and the young elf never seemed to care, nor went complaining about it.

In that moment he was crouching into the wooden tub, in the middle of a bath. When his mentor entered, Caradhar stood up with no shame, and grabbed a cloth to dry himself. He had lost a lot of weight; the old man could count his ribs without problems, under that pale, sickly-looking skin.

'I say, boy, I am flattered of your admiration towards your teacher, that pushes you to do as much as possible to look like him,' he remarked, ironically. 'But better than acquiring the appearance of an old human alchemist you should fill your belly and spend less hours in the laboratory, I must say.' The elf didn't answer; Old Fox sighed and shook his head. 'I have a proposal for you; it's a bit long and complicated...' Caradhar pointed at the chair and he took a seat himself, crossing his legs, on the mattress. 'Good; first, I want to tell you that you are not forced to say yes, and for my part, things won't change. You understand that, don't you?'

The elf knit his brow, intrigued, and nodded. Master Jaexias updated him on the matters discussed at the meeting, as much as he was allowed to tell and even a bit more, since he knew that the young elf, despite keeping his own secrets, wouldn't betray him. Once he arrived to the part in which they had discussed the possibility of sending an agent of their own, the alchemist remained firm.

'I know it is a very risky task; on the other hand, your allegiance should be to Therendanar, maybe against the interest of your people, and you'd had to become a spy in a strange House; and it wouldn't be impossible that our own allies in Argent City tried to force you not to share with us any information you could obtain. All in all, if you have the slightest doubt about it and think you won't be able to fulfil your role, you better decline the offer.'

Caradhar didn't spend much time considering it. He didn't wish to leave the safety of the laboratory, nor be trapped again into an elven House, but he felt indebted to the old alchemist for all the years he had accepted him under his protection.

'I don't owe anything to Arestinias; in fact, I don't owe anything to any House of Argailias,' he said, calmly. 'What must I do?'

Verella Dep'Attedern was one of those persons impossible not to look at: taller than most, dressed in black male clothes, with a suit buttoned up to her neck, but so tight that suggested the lines of her muscled, elastic body. Her long blond hair was tied up in an elaborate hairstyle, showing a very beautiful nape, on the rare occasion when she turned her back to people. Her face, free of make-up, was angular and delightfully ambiguous, with a pair of cunning eyes, the colour of steel, and equally sharp.

In her youth she had been a spy, and age (impossible to guess by the effect of potions) had made her strong, wise... and indolent. She currently directed the Prince's Intelligence Cabinet, and had left behind, with great satisfaction, the fieldwork. The opinions about her were divided: some said she was a strict women lover; others, that there was a exception to that rule: the Prince himself.

Caradhar, sitting in front of her in the privacy of her office, was feeling uncomfortable. He wasn't very used to deal with human females, much less with such a presence of mind as hers; he found her attractive but, at the same time, she reminded him of Darial somehow. He wished the interview wouldn't take too long.

For her part, Verella was, of course, aware that Master Jaexias had accepted an elven apprentice, but that was her first chance to speak to him face to face; the old alchemist had taken good care of keeping him away from curious eyes.

'Have you ever had any contact with House Arestinias, Caradhar?' asked the woman; he shook his head. 'You will surely know it belongs to the First Circle. It's governed by Lady Neskahal, who inherited her title from her father, and still didn't marry so that she wouldn't have to share her power, or so they say. The members of her council tried to force her to take a husband and guarantee the succession; it is known that three of them, at least, died from 'natural causes' since then. It is rumoured that she's fond of keeping lovers: some of then openly; others, in a more discreet way.'

'In my opinion, her situation has reached a point in which she needs to make a move to consolidate her position. It is not a particularly rich House, nor has the best alchemists, and some Houses belonging to the Second Circle covet its place and stand dangerously close...'

'It's very possible that they placed their hopes on boosting their laboratory; which is why we agreed that someone with your knowledge could perfectly offer himself to complete his training with their alchemists; they will hardly reject skilled adepts in these days.'

'Although the interchange of alchemists is not unusual, it is practised only between allied Houses,' interrupted the elf. 'They'll never accept a stranger like me who, on top of that, doesn't belong to any House anymore.'

'Oh, that's the best part.' The woman smiled a bit mysteriously. 'In the principality of Misselas, twenty days' journey away to the North, there is a prosperous elven community whose alchemists work side by side with the Prince's ones. Their Grand Alchemist will be more than satisfied of considering as paid an old favour we did, and so we can obtain a certificate, a safe-conduct, a letter of introduction and whatever we want for you. You'd just have to spend some time acquiring basic knowledge about the city and creating a coherent character. Moreover, our allies in Argent City offered as much collaboration as needed to polish the details. And so, will you accept?'

'I want to know one thing: who are those allies?'

'The ambassador's secretary will receive you in their rooms, in the southern part of the fortress. I'll have you guided there.'

Caradhar was led, through the outer courtyards, to the wing that accommodated the Prince's special guests. He waited in a room decorated with Argailian style, although the little furniture and the lack of curtains caught his attention. The stone walls, almost bare, didn't help to mitigate the intense cold; the shivering young elf approached the fireplace.

Time passed and nobody arrived to receive him. He was starting to wonder if he had been forgotten when a figure that wasn't there before appeared in the gifted's field of vision; the figure dressed in black, and a hood partially hid his features. His carefree voice also sounded very familiar.

'Greetings, Adhar. Fuck, you look horrible!'

The redhead frowned. That was an unexpected person, yet, at the same time, his presence didn't catch him by surprise.

'You aren't the ambassador's secretary...'

'No kidding!' observed the Shadow, in a sarcastic way. 'These are his rooms for real, but he's kind enough to allow an old friend of yours to update you on everything...'

'I don't need any updating,' said Caradhar, walking to the door. 'I suspected this had to do with House Elore'il. I don't belong there now and don't want...'

'Wait!' The spy jumped, quick as a cat, and took the gifted by his shoulder. 'Listen before to what I've got to say. I'm here on behalf of House Llia'res; I've never belonged to Elore'il. Right, it's true, it amounts to the same thing, as matters stand today, but why do you want to turn your back to your mother House?' Caradhar freed himself, without answering, and kept walking. 'I've been watching you! From time to time, whenever I could... All these years...'

The alchemist apprentice stopped at once; he took a deep breath, his back still to the spy, and asked, with harsh voice and a shade of anger:

'But... Are they ever going to leave me alone? What the blazes do they want from me?'

'Caradhar, don't be a mug: you have the Gift; you've got... other gifts I can't understand. Do you think they'll let you go, just so easy? Be happy they let you come here, and I'm screwed if I know how you ever got that... You've got to believe me: their plan wasn't having you mixed up in this. It was the humans' initiative: they must believe you'll be loyal enough as to be useful to them...'

'Should I be loyal then to people who place a spy in front of my door to watch that I don't... become too friendly with the humans? It that's how things are, I am leaving.'

'They won't let you go.' The Shadow walked near the younger elf again; there was true understanding in his voice. 'Believe me, it isn't worth trying.'

'Then I'll go back to my lab and will keep living, into my little cage, my little lie. I can't see why I should move a finger to please any master. I can't see why...'

'Caradhar, I've seen the way you live... Aren't you tired of that rats' nest?' The Shadow stretched his arm and gently placed his hand back on the gifted's shoulder. 'Don't you feel like doing something that makes you feel alive again? You can always go back to your refuge, if you miss it... But, staying here forever? Screw the humans and screw the nobles! I know very well what's moving in circles 'cause the chain at your neck reached its limit. If you have to live at the end of a chain, at least have fun biting whoever comes in range!'

Caradhar clenched his jaw; he got rid of the gloved hand again and held the door knob.

'In all these years, I wasn't told to come and spy you a single time. I always came 'cause I wanted to know if you were fine; because I wanted to see you again.'

The red-haired elf hesitated for an instant; then he turned around and walked towards the spy with decided step. In a sudden move he pulled his hood down, without being resisted.

The Shadow, as he had guessed, was young. He had long black hair, tied up in a ponytail, well-proportioned features, lips that tended to curve into a teasing smile and bright dark eyes, under slightly pointed eyebrows. He was attractive; in a way, he looked like a younger version of Nestro.

'Fancy that, you've grown up. Now you're as tall as me.' The Shadow smiled; this time, without a hint of mockery.

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