Merla left very shortly afterwards, the marble from Vitruvion pulsating and emitting a strong blue light when he was done. Passing it to her he said it would provide one journey's worth of teleport travel right to the doors of the Elssmith manor house. Also he gave her two letters - one for Druss the new butler to explain who she was, and the other to Raevin to explain what role Merla was to take. They also agreed that continuing on from then Merla would use a different name, to ensure her past did not catch up to her. For now the simple abbreviation 'Mer' was chosen, with a surname to follow later, and a backstory to be constructed over time.
It left Vitruvion and Stare finally alone as her light slowly faded away. As the farewell smile slipped from the god's face it came to mimick the cold, unamused tones that had been living in the kenku's expression ever since they had entered the bounty hunters' lair. Stare turned and busied herself with piling the very nice plates and her crappy tin one together. The tray in her hands was careful and steady, and she moved to start picking it up to carry it back to the kitchen - when Vitruvion finally spoke.
"A maid will get that," he said quietly. "I think we have much more important matters to attend to."
The kenku blinked and stopped for a second, stunned at his sudden speech. Then she twisted around her head and fixed him with a beady eye. "So now pretty elf has gone it's finally time to talk about the serious side, eh?"
Vitruvion's jaw tightened with dislike but he fell into an armchair and relaxed instead of disciplining her. "We always had it to speak of, Stare." He paused, his nose wrinkling. "And do not say 'eh' like that. It is very ... Plebian."
Stare almost laughed. "We have a demon mage in the closet, we faced a man with power you don't even seem to understand, and we still have your mysterious brother to deal with ... And you are worried about me sounding 'plebian'."
"The mage is in the spare bedroom, not the closet," he said calmly, gesturing for her to take the chair opposite him. "And you should be thankful I have employed someone capable of finally being useful in my household. Really. I have half a mind to fire them all and hire an entirely new household. With the exception of yourself, naturally."
She dumped herself in the seat. "I didn't think you meant me. You've told me enough times I'm not getting away the easily."
His brows rose and he nodded. "Indeed, at this rate your magic is improving, well ..."
The kenku blinked, confused. "Wait. What?"
For a moment there was a brief silence, then Vitruvion gloriously grinned. "Resurrection, even for me, is a difficult magic but for you ... Well." He leant to the side to rest his body on an elbow. "I'd be willing to try anything. Near death experience..."
If she was supposed to be impressed she did not look it. Instead she just grunted and shrugged. "So I have no choice in Mer because you trust her for whatever reason you found out. Fine," she raised a hand to raise it dismissively - then remembered who she was sitting opposite. So she waved it very dramatically. His brow lines creased but he said nothing.
"Anyway," she went on, pleased that she had irritated him. "Am I allowed I know what the Man of Secrets told you?"
Vitruvion looked at her a while with disapproval in his eyes, but answered her. "As you entirely suspected, my dear, he knew I am a god. He had to die. I can see why they chained him up, no," he held up a finger as she opened her mouth to ask if he knew where the man's power came from. "I cannot say that I know. Based on evidence, on what you saw, I can only presume it was an item he wore of some sort, or a curse that is not of his own power, but of another neither of us can detect."
Stare looked in shock, going silent for a moment. This seemed to please Vitruvion and his smile returned.
"So it's ... Of the Althanas gods? You told me before your power is limited because of them, that, for instance, you cannot access the minds of mortals easily because of their protection ... Maybe this man had something similar."
"Though you have been able to see other divine magic users," Vitruvion gestured at her. "Paladin, priests and the like. We tested that enough. And from what we can fathom, you even see my own power, so long as it is outwith my body ... In you for instance."
Stare nodded slowly, thinking of how the hue of her own power lines, when she looked at herself and her chakras in a mirror, was exactly that of Vitruvion. There was no doubt between both of them now that her power was directly bestowed by his godhood.
"So it's something else ... Demonic?"
"You can see demon magic as one of the clearest of all. And no. He did not stink."
Stare blinked. "Stink?"
"Yes, there is," he paused and pushed a horrible burnt, manure scent and taste into her nose and mouth. Immediately she recoiled in horror. " That is what essence of demon smells like, my dear. The Man of Secrets did not. Wine," he suddenly picked up a glass from dinner and held it out. Stare blinked for a moment before he shook it at her. "Wine, Stare. Now."
Raising her brows she held back a grumble and stood before heading over to a cupboard. Delving into it she found a gorgeous 'confiance en ton coeur' red. It was one that she knew Vitruvion liked. Heading back over she uncorked the bottle with a stab of one claw, and ended up pouring it right into the waiting glass. Without asking she took up another for herself. Vitruvion said nothing, and waited for her to sit back down.
"The scent is perhaps something that may transfer over to you sometime, I suspect, though you can see the source of power in a person, the scent is lingering. It tells me if something is enchanted, a mage has been in the area, charms are in place, and so on," he paused. "We will see. Anyway," he sipped his wine. "That was the man. He knew too much, and so he had to die. I can see why someone would place a bounty for him alive. Now we move on."
He then leant forwards, looked down at himself and grunted. "Stare, I left my coat ..." He gestured idly over to the bed.
"I'm not a-" she began to speak, but then cut herself off, realising the stupidity of what she was about to say. Getting out of her chair she set her glass aside and began to moodily saunter to where his tailcoat was draped over the bedstead.
Vitruvion laughed lightly, "I do not even need to read your mind to know what you were going to finish with."
The word 'slave' sung around her head and she tried to ignore it. By the time she came back to him to hand over his coat he was grinning at her. "Thank you ... mine."
Rolling her eyes she took up her wine and slumped back into her chair. "What's in the coat?"
