Adrian was only halfway through his spiel when Cromwell began to weave his magic into reality. His armored fingers appeared to draw, to pull, to combine and create something from what his observers could only see from nothing. Avian in shape, Cromwell continued to refine his creation while speaking to Adrian his questions.
This mage—Caed—what can you tell me of his sorcery?
“Not as much as I wish I could. I initially tagged him as a manipulator, but he described it as push and pull? Something like that.” Adrian said, now leaning against one of the sturdier shelving units with his arms folded across his chest. “He could have been fucking with me.”
Force. That is what a layman might describe it as.
Adrian flinched.
Anything else?
“He has…” Adrian trailed off. He had only seen so much of the man. “He has some kind of magic eye. He didn’t hint at its use.”
Narrowing it down, I may know the sorcerer. If it is, indeed, who I imagine, then he holds the Eye of Istvar. He is a hired hand, not a servant of Alk’Hath.
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
We have no time for your quips, Adrian Giarmund.
In his hands a dark bird had taken shape. A third eye was on its forehead. Just like its master, each eye burned with blue flames. The lich waved it away, and it perched atop Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian glared at the creature.
This familiar will locate Veleria for us. I will use it to communicate with you.
Adrian loathed the idea of toting around a pocket-sized lich. Its weightlessness already unsettled him, as did the identical eyes it had with Cromwell. With a frown, he turned his gaze back to the familiar’s master.
“What happens when we find them? Even if I don the Mask of Many Faces, if what Caed told me is true, then Veleria will make him into a powerhouse. The fucker turned both my horses into paste.” He said, shaking his head. It scared him just thinking about it.
Althalos tented his fingers in front of him. There was a metallic sound as each digit clicked against the other.
If he cannot be reasoned with then I will destroy him utterly.
“Okay, sure, but you aren’t coming—“
I can project myself through my familiars. My physical body need not be present for my magic to manifest.
Each and every word that Althalos spoke was said plainly. The lich had no emotions to speak of, and the lack of any human connection spooked Adrian more than the implications of his words. Nervously, he scratched the back of his head, briefly forgetting the avian familiar sitting on his shoulder. He made a face, his lip curling to reveal his teeth, and he turned from Cromwell to look towards the stairwell. Wren had left them at the start of his recollection.
“I suppose I should get moving then,” he mumbled.
Indeed you should. Gather whatever you might need. I expect your swift departure on the morrow.
Not wanting to spare another second in the presence of the lich, Adrian climbed the stairs. He gave Wren a waning look when the two exchanged glances, though Wren merely smiled in his direction. How the shopkeeper who had to deal with Cromwell on a daily basis was in such high spirits was a wonder for the ages, though the comfort of having such a powerful being on one’s side likely helped matters. It was also possible that Wren was just the sort that could handle inhuman, nigh-immortal creatures.
Adrian reconvened with Mason and Melissa upon leaving Strange Commodities. The latter was in awe at the bird on his shoulder, though Mason agreed that it was off-putting. They helped him get a few things together for the journey ahead.
At night, Cromwell’s familiar perched atop the tavern. It did not follow him inside. Adrian had more sex with Melissa, though he caught his mind drifting towards Veleria each time he turned Mel around. Her hair was long, black, and straight, and he envisioned how beautiful it would look with a red ribbon tying it back.
He finished, however unsatisfied, and then went outside despite Mel asking him to lie with her further. Sitting alone on the street, Cromwell’s familiar flew down onto his shoulder.
“What is she, Cromwell?” Adrian asked aloud. His head hung low.
All three of the familiar’s burning eyes focused on Adrian.
Veleria is not what Caed thinks she is.
Adrian’s brows furrowed, “that is not what I asked.”
It is not my right to say. Should she find it pertinent, then Veleria can tell you herself.
There was silence between them for a time. Adrian had no retort, and Cromwell was naturally the quiet type. Following another awkward moment, the lich intruded once more into Adrian’s head space.
You have my gratitude for all that you have done for her.
Adrian went back inside after that comment. Having returned atop the tavern, Althalos Cromwell observed the city of Ashvale and beyond.