Istellia Montagne tilts her head curiously and hums,“At any rate, it’s a pleasure to meet you again. I take it you two are… associates now?” She had a wary, almost tinged with disgust tone towards Madoc as she glances to him with a roll of her eyes. She brings up her practiced smile again and leans forward, “So are you going to tell me why you’re carrying that thing around?”
“Associates,” Madoc Parnell said slowly, looking to Arshtat, and then to Istellia with a slight wiggle of his brows. “That’s one word for it,” he grinned. The grin faltered slightly at the mention of the sword. “Aye, it’s the reason for callin’ you. Think I…might be in some trouble.”
Istellia blinks and takes another sip from her cup. She peers at Madoc and with a jesting tone, “When aren’t you? Ghost of Stanton past come to haunt you? Can’t find enough bears to kill?” She flicks her gaze to Arshtat thoughtfully before settling her attention back to Madoc with an amused look that falters into an expression of seriousness. “Whatever it is, it’s serious isn’t it?”
“Never enough bears,” he smirked with a mock seriousness. It soon shifted into real seriousness. “So I’ve been told. This damned thing,” he pointed to the greatsword behind him, “spiritbonded to me. Cursed me. Somethin’, and now I can’t go anywhere without takin’ it with me. And it’s…gettin’ into my head.”
Arshtat Ejinn quietly lets the two banter, glancing at the sword every now and again, and folding her hands in her lap.
Istellia mutters to herself, “And I was just joking about the ghost of that arse.” She straightens back up and frowns,“So you’re stuck with the dumb thing. How’s it getting into your head?”
Madoc wrinkled his nose and took a sip from his glass. “Just a feelin’ to use it. To feed it. But I’ve got no intentions of doin’ that. Bunch of mages said it’s…takin’ over me. I’m wonderin’ if maybe Stanton had the same problem, or if this is somethin’ new his spirit’s conjurin’ up for lucky ol’ me.”
Arshtat frowns at Madoc, remembering all the words spoken during those tests. “They said it… might be easier if they knew of it’s origin, yes?”
“I’ll reckon Stanton was Ifrit’s arse before he got that blade.” She leans to the side to observe the blade to the best of her ability, “If it’s anything similar, the blades were known to take the personality of their wielders in some manifestation or another. A link with their aether- spiritbond as you know it.“
She drums her fingers along,"That’s definitely the work of Cachero’s, one he wanted to reclaim at that, but I never thought it to be dangerous to other wielders.” Istellia takes another sip of her tea before continuing, “Quite frankly, the blades aren’t generally accepting of other people using it. This is a rare instance where the original wielder is dead; therefore the binding is… well…” She waves her hand about.
Madoc’s brows rose. “Well shite, I should’ve called you sooner. You actually know who made this blade? Do they know how to unmake it?”
Arshtat also seemed to perk up a little, finally able to settle on a hope. She continued to fidget with her fingers, but sat a little straighter.
Istellia takes a deep breath and sets the cup down. “Yea, but you won’t like who, and I honestly wouldn’t know if they know how to. Even if he did, I wouldn’t put it above him to put you through several meaningless tasks. The man isn’t exactly accommodating to the urgency of others.” Istellia rolls her shoulders and leans back,“But there’s no certainty to ascertaining his tendencies. I’m sure you remember Cachero, you two briefly met some time ago.”
“Mm, think I met ‘im once. Not long though,” he shrugged, but leaned forward and set the glass aside. “Don’t care what I’ve gotta do. I think jumpin’ through a few hoops is worth not losin’ my mind, aye?”
Istellia drums her fingers along her cup and glances to Arshtat once more before looking back to Madoc,“Very well, I suppose we could track him down. Though I must ask two things. What possessed you to use the blade in the first place, and do you have any other plans for fixing this? Assuming Cachero cannot help.”
Arshtat drops her eyes again, glancing to Madoc, “He used it to protect me…” She answered simply
Madoc gave a small smile to Arshtat, and then he quickly waved his hand. “I had an unfriendly visitor in my apartment about a moon ago. Got between me and my axe, had to use this instead.” His head bobbed backwards in motion to the greatsword. “As for other plans, I’ve got a few mages lookin’ into it. Not sure what they’ll find, but I’m willin’ to do just about anythi–” He paused, glancing toward the performance area, then blinked a few times and looked back again.
Istellia bows her head and hums thoughtfully. She shifts in her chair and tilts the cup back up,“Very well-” She tilts her head and blinks at Madoc, “Eh?” She glances over her shoulder following the xaela’s gaze,“Seeing something?”
Arshtat also looks to him as he drifts off mid sentence, tilting her head, “Is it hurting you…?”
Madoc glanced back toward the curtain, his eyes narrowing a bit. “Aye,” he said slowly in response to Istellia, then shook his head to Arshtat. “Feel fine, just…probably a coincidence,” he tried to smirk. “Thought I saw the bastard Stanton for a second there.”
Arshtat frowns at the smirk, glancing to the curtain, “It is… getting worse if you are seeing things. R-Ruran asked that when I spoke to him… maybe I should contact him again as well.”
Istellia frowns and shakes her head, “I would like to remind you that Stanton is dead. It would behoove you to keep that in mind for sake of your sanity. We all saw him decapitated, and I assure you that was no illusion.”
