Drawing the curtains

[Caipra]

Caipra hadn't thought that this spell could have taken her as much energy. But she hadn't cast such a strong one for years, and she had no idea of the way it would have acted. So she didn't know if it had worked.

The sorceress stood up slowly, making sure she could still stand upright, and came closer to Farid. She crouched and passed her hand over the face of the guard. According to the her, he should feel preoccupied, even when he was sleeping, if he was on an important case. But his mind seemed calm, appeased.
Caipra rose up and turned toward Ziad.
"I think it worked. But I'll be sure only when they'll wake up"
She didn't like saying it, but it was the truth. She was almost sure it had worked, she rarely made mistakes. However, she needed to see the results by herself.
"What do you plan to do with them?" Caipra asked to Ziad.

[Ziad]

He had his arms crossed by now, a gesture that showed a mild defiance and a masking of his slight uneasiness. "There´s nothing I plan to do with them." he said, his voice probably sounding a bit harsher than he had intended. "but to send them home. What exactly will their memory be like? Will there just be some gap in it or was it replaced with... something random?"

A thought had occured to him. It wouldn´t be easy to cover up Amir. He already had the faked report according to which the young salesman had been brought here to sleep away a few ales too much. And he was rather sure that he could come up with something similar for his friend - if no one had seen him be taken to the guards´ place that was. But Farid was another story. He doubted that the boy would go against him in case he told him to keep silent about the fact that there was something missing in his memory, but one could never tell and to be honest, he didn´t need another uneasy secret on his consciousness.

[Caipra]

Caipra couldn't give a precise answer. All they could do right now, was wait. Magic was not always an exact science, and it was hard to explain it to someone who didn't possess it but she at least tried to reassure Ziad. "The best that could happen for them is that Amir and Kadeem wake up with a headache, thinking that they have drunk too much to remember something. Concerning Farid, he will just think that he had arrested two drunk men, thing that happen quite often...I suppose."
She came closer to Ziad and added: "Unfortunately, the spell of the forgotten is a very powerful spell, and its consequences are hard to predict. that's why I still need you. I won't be here when they'll wake up, I would like you to warn me if anything seems wrong, if they ask too many questions. If the spell worked perfectly, they shouldn't ask a single one."
She smiled at the chief's guard.

Caipra started to feel tired. She needed to get some rest and to feel ready, if she had to intervene again. All was not over yet.

[Ziad]

Ziad´s expression had darkened while she was talking. Oh great, he thought, yet another thing that could not be predicted, yet another uncertainty in an already shaky path of events. "Oh, I can guarantee you that." he replied in a low voice, a slightly dangerous edge to it that resulted from his own anxieties right now. Things had worked out so far and he prayed that nothing else would go wrong. He was still seeing his head in a sling and he didn´t feel comfortable with this feeling at all. And right now he wasn´t sure who to be angry at for all this. Her or himself.

"And now get out of here." he added, nodding towards the door. "I don´t want the next shift catching you around. Because they would ask questions."

[Caipra]

Ziad was right, Caipra shouldn't stay here any longer. She wasn't really glad to leave him alone with those three men to manage, btut she didn't have a choice. It could be too suspicious if someone saw her with the chief of the guards.
She moved toward the table, put everything in her bag and removed the pentagram. When she was sure that she hadn't forgotten anything, the old sorceress came closer to Ziad again, touched his arm and said.
"I don't know how many times I thanked you, but I'll do it once more. I'll never forget what you did tonight, and I promise you, that I'll do anything to avoid any other situation like that."

Caipra would have never expected that Bryn's powers would manifest themselves that way. Otherwise she would have done everything to avoid things like that.
In some way, she felt a lot responsible for what happened that night. Not only for what happened to Bryn, but also for the situation in which she put Ziad in. She could see by the tone of his voice and his attitude that he didn't feel as confident as he used to be. And it was like that since the begining, but Caipra didn't pay attention.

If, by the morning, everything was finally solved, then she hoped he would try to forget about all this quickly.

Caipra smiled to Ziad and said "Good night Ziad, and thank you" before leaving the room.

[Ziad]

Ziad didn´t reply with more than another short nod. He felt there was not much of a need for many words and he just hoped that Caipra was right. If anything went wrong, if those men didn´t wake up or if they started spreading funny stories, it would get a whole lot more difficult to get things straight again and he didn´t even want to imagine how difficult that might turn out to be. Not for the first time he wondered why he had agreed to this in the first place and as always he knew the answer immediately. A life´s dept was no something that could be easily discarded. That didn´t make things more bearable though...

When Caipra had left, he opened the door of the cell and dragged the man Farid had just brought, into it. Things would look more plausible like that. If they asked questions, he could always claim the alcohol thing, that they had both been arrested to it. As for Farid... for a moment he stood there, unsure, then he picked up the boy under his arms and dragged him over to the chair where he had been sitting. And now it was all about waiting. Waiting and hoping that all would be okay.

But as it would turn out within the next two hours, things did turn out to be okay for a change. there were no questions asked ... and all seemed back to normal. And it was ... at least in the city of Basra. At least for now.

[Ziad]

(Please make sure to read the following thread before continuing to read here)

distandlands.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=dimdim&action=display&thread=397&page=1

***

The night had ticked on, hours going by and the men in the cells that they had put there earlier had kept sleeping like peaceful little babes. Farid had been the first one to awaken. Ziad had laid him down on a bench near where he had been sitting and the boy had been embarrassed to wake up curled up next to his captain, confused about having fallen asleep on duty. "You were tired," Ziad had told him and the boy had believed him. Maybe his mind was still somehow changed or influenced by the magic, but he knew not for sure. Such things were beyond him. "you did your work well and fell sleep. You may go home now. Do not report to me again until sundown tomorrow." And with that he had dismissed the young one.

Kadeem and Amir had slept longer than the boy, their bodies obviously wary from more wine than they had admitted, but they too, stirred before sunrise and after a few formalities including a signature under the papers he had prepared (Amir coming from a well off family actually could write while Kadeem signed with something that looked like an elegant flourish without letters), they too, were sent away. Only when they had left and when after another long while it seemed the sun came up slowly, sky turning pale, then rimmed with gold, did Ziad allow himself a little rest. He leant back in his chair and propped his boots up on the table, leaning back his head tiredly, losening his sword belt and dropping the weapon to the ground as he closed his eyes with a groan. Slowly he actually started to believe that things went smoothly. That he would not regret it. His tense muscles slowly relaxing, his mind slowly drifting off somewhere to an inbetween of sleep and waking, he did not quite allow himself the luxury of sleep yet. He never did when on duty, his senses were alert as always, even though to an onlooker there might be a different impression.

And with that, he was on his feet in an instant when all of a sudden, coming out of nowhere like a powerful, soundless blast of magical energy, blinding him through the eyelids, there was flash of blazing light. He was on his feet in an instant, his practised hand grabbing the hilt of his sword, leaping forward, blade turned down, stance ready to fight, one hand raised to shield himself of the blinding light that had suddenly appeared like a huge, formless ball in the middle of the early dawn.

It was gone as soon as it had come, leaving behind a strange feeling that touched him like strange ringing to his very soul, something so alien and strange it made him blink and before it retreated he nearly believed to hear voices. Taking you away... here.... to the source... it is as it should be.... Then it was gone, the lack of light suddenly making his irises burn so he blinked again, sword still unsheathed and pointed at something aimlessly before he lowered it hastily to a shape that had collapsed on the ground. His heart was racing as was his mind and he was cursing himself a fool for having believed that whatever had happened this night would have gone without any more trouble for him. He cursed under his breath and it was a curse that his superiors would have scolded him for

When his vision cleared he remained tense, but he could now behold what it was that was by his feet, at the tip of his sword nearly. A woman. Her hair was red as fire and was wearing a dress, but no shoes. She had fallen almost directly to his feet and he stared at her and didn´t move, nor did he withdraw his weapon for how should he know if she was really a woman of blood and flesh of some devilty that this wicked, crazy magic of Caipra´s had caused? Caipra, he thought furiously. She would have something to answer for.

It all happened within mere seconds. The flash. His leap, the ringing of metal against metal as he drew his sword and pointed it at the woman on the ground, before he even knew whether she was conscious or unconscious.

[Maeve]

She felt like she had just been run over by a horde of wild elephants stampede. Everything in her body felt utterly crushed and sore, the hard and cold dampness of the new ground beneath her immediately coursing through her back like ice spikes, which, added to the flashing blow of condensed light tightly imprisoning her seconds ago, knocked the air out of her painfully. She stirred and groaned, stunned by the global ache that was surging through her from head to toe, but before she could do anything, she erupted in a series of coughs and ragged breaths that tore her chest apart.

After a moment, when enough air was back in her lungs, she winced at the loud throbbing thuds in her temples. She grimaced at their sharp twinges and tried to open her eyes in small feeble strains, her pupils stinging at the drastic change of luminosity. After several adjusting blinks, despite her senses all still being pretty numb and off, she was at least able to discern that the light was gone now, and that everything was plunged in darkness, except for a small stray of sunlight somewhere.

Shifting uncomfortably, she struggled to sat up, all the while trying to force her mental capacities back in so that she could figure out what had happened, but as her burning eyes searched their dim surrounding, they came to rest on a pair of boots, right beside her.

Her blood ran cold. The adrenaline shot in her veins, and as she swiftly brought her gaze up to look at who it was, she met the blade of a sword.

[Ziad]

The woman stirred, obviously awake and by the looks of it obviously confused and in pain. Still, Ziad remained careful and didn´t move, the sword remaining where it was, not close enough to touch her, but close enough to be on guard. She looked weak and fragile, worn in a way that he could not describe and that touched his heart instantly in a surge of compassion but with magic one never knew. She could be anybody ... or anything. A random woman accidentally bewitched here from another corner of the world (which given the unusual colour of her hair could be possible) or some demon spawn, summoned from a completely other place in a fragile looking diguise.

She froze when she saw the blade and he swallowed, feeling tempted to draw the weapon back and help her up, but the night had been long and straining and even though Ziad would never have admitted it, he was rather scared to lose control over yet another situation that involved magic or people that were connected to it.

"You´re in the city of Basra." he adressed her, meaning to make his voice sound stern and neutral, but his eyes gave away more of the inner turmoil that the woman´s weak and pained state evoked in him. "Who are you and where did you come from?"

[Mala]

[happens unnoticed by Ziad and Maeve; follows the events of distandlands.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=seas&action=display&thread=407&page=1 ]

Bars of iron met her sight. A man, no sorcerer for she could sense no magic flowing within him, was standing tall and tensed not far from them. And there, on the ground, next to his feet, she lay. A young woman, barely conscious as it seemed.
The ghost was able to feel the echo of the shift sounding in the human, yet she did not know just why it did so. Why had this mortal been sent here through time and space to cross boundaries that never before had been violated? Just why...
Mala froze as suddenly the woman on the floor stirred and lifted her sight. She knew her face, should have already known her looks. Only once had she seen this soul before, but she had not forgotten about it. A shadow, a demon in disguise; yet this time she seemed to be real.
Maeve. She remembered the name well enough. She was the one her son had almost risked his immortal soul for. The one who obviously meant more to him than a simple friend could ever do...

[Maeve]

The man towering over her seemed as stunned and confused as she was, and as her thoughts registered a little in the darkness of the room, she was glad, by the look of sheer mistrust on his face, and the hidden trace of concern in his eyes, that the sword in his hand was aimed defensively at her, rather than threateningly. It gave her time to adjust to the situation, which he didn’t seem to understand anymore than she did. Looking up at him, disoriented and still shaken up, she tried to connect the dots in her head. The beach, the ripple, the powerful light, and now this…She realized the peacefulness and neutrality were gone; the strange magic and mystical life forms that had begun this whole mess had vanished. She couldn’t sense their antique pulsations anywhere and…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the man’s stern voice, which truly brought her back to reality this time. He addressed her, but his words echoed deafly in her ears, as if she was hearing him out with a slight delay. She blinked back blankly at him, trying to shrug off the spinning resonance, when one word caught her attention.

Wincing again at the soreness of her muscle and at the painful thumps in her head, she staggered up to her feet, wanting to be on equal ground with him. She immediately retreated backwards, putting some distance between his blade and her. Her eyes carefully strained around the room, trying to map out where she was but all she was able to discern was a table, a couple of chairs, a small window through which the first rays of morning light were shining, and a door, whose location she made sure to remember.

The word still floated in her head as dread slowly crept over her. Bringing her confused and baffled gaze back to the man’s, she was able to find her voice, which was barely above a whisper. “Did you just say Basra?”

[Ziad]

His eyes narrowed a bit, insecurity at her confused and battered state showing through and against better judgement he lowered his sword a bit so it was now pointed at the ground instead of at her chin. He knew he shouldn´t do that, something was telling him that the situation was potentially dangerous, but he couldn´t bring himself to behave that way to a woman who was so obviously next to herself and didn´t even seem to know where she was.

"Yes," he said. "I am the captain of the city guard. What is your name?"

[Maeve]

The echo was gone now and she could hear him perfectly, although at the moment she wished she didn’t. Remaining completely still, staring at him through her disbelief as he confirmed the source of her growing mortification, she felt herself sway, her chest suddenly knotted in a heart-wrenching feeling. This couldn’t be happening…

She stopped breathing. Ignoring the last part of his statement and question, everything around her seemed to freeze for a moment as her eyes slowly went down to the ground, tears of incomprehension swelling up in them. She felt a stabbing twinge in her heart, soon followed by hatred, because that’s what she always turned to when she couldn’t deal with something, hatred and guilt. Cursing this damn neutral magic that had stuck its nose into her prison and tempted her, anger and ache boiled up inside her, underneath all her astonishment and confusion.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity to her, she brought her eyes back up to the man’s, her face torn in pain, a pain that had nothing to do with her physical soreness, and everything to do with her own foolishness.

It couldn’t be true. This was a dream. It had to be a dream.

In a swift movement, seeking ultimate confirmation before she could allow herself to truly break down, she dashed to the door.

[Ziad]

Ziad reacted instantly, leaping after her and holding her by her arm. He couldn´t just let her go. Not because he didn´t even know what was going on with her, where she came from, what she was.... that, and because there seemed to be something really wrong about this woman, something that he knew would not lead to any good if he let her wander off alone.

"no, no, no, no....wait!" He called out, his voice worried but also demanding. "You can´t just dash off like this." His grip around her arm was firm, too firm for her to break lose, the other hand still holding the sword, but away from her so it wasn´t a real danger.
Damn it, he thought. He needed to contact Caipra.

[Mala]

Mala saw the young woman's features tense; she felt the confusion and all the more guilt and anger radiate all from her. She did not quite understand where all these feelings came from, yet she sensed that their source was a deep pain - a scar that ran deeper than any she had seen before.
When suddenly she ran, Mala wanted to reach out to her. She wanted to console the young spirit that she knew was so important to her son. For a split second the ghost raised her hand, but knowing that no action would come from her effords she lowered it again; watching the guard doing what she wasn't capable of.