Drawing the curtains

[Maeve]

She had no idea what they were talking about. Her brown eyes, crowned with a skeptical and confused frown, simply kept bouncing back and forth between the sorceress and the guard. She didn’t know what was going on inside the wise lady’s head at the moment but as she studied her concentrated features she could tell her mind was spinning, arduously trying to connect the dots between her sudden arrival and something else, something else being something Ziad was aware of, which rendered the whole thing even more disconcerting.

She tried to remain silent as long as she could to let Caipra ponder on the situation carefully, but, patience having never been her forte, her curiosity eventually took the upper hand and she pressed on, a tiny morsel of hope surfacing deep within her painfully. “A connection with what?”

[Caipra]

The silence was too long.Caipra was repeating Ziad's answer in her head. She wanted to say something but she was out of words. She still couldn't believe what had happened.
Maeve's voice finally broke the silence after a moment. The old sorceress realized then that the redhead had no idea of what was going on. She turned around to face the young sorceress again, and started to explain:
"There was an accident in town tonight and I had to cast a spell on those men to erase their memories."She said, showing the men sleeping around them.
Of course, the story was far longer than that, but Maeve didn't need all the details for now
"But I had to cast a quite powerful one to make sure it would work on all of them" she added. "And something happened during the incantation, something so powerful that it weakens me for a moment. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the forgetting spell, so I think..."
Caipra took a deep breath. She was about to say out loud what seemed impossible a few minutes ago.
"I think I might be the one who broke the veil."

[Mala]

The wise sorceress' words seemed to linger in the air for a moment; echoing through time and space and hitting Mala hard with their meaning. A mortal had indeed broken the veil?

The ghost's eyes grew wide as they lay transfixed on the elderly woman - ignoring the sleeping men at the far side of the room.
She had just noticed that her aura and the faint trace of magic within the ripple were so similar, but hearing that she might indeed be the one who caused such a mighty shift nevertheless astounded the being.
Is she really that powerful?, Mala wondered, her own voice sounding strange in her ears as it was so coloured with deep wonder. It was a clear sound that left her lips but she knew that to the living souls it would be nothing but a whisper of wind ruffling the seas. And forgetting about the fact that with all the magic the stranger carried within, her own essence would be visible to her if only she noticed it, Mala moved closer; her curiosity drawing her towards the mighty spirit of the lady like a moth was drawn to the flame.

[Maeve]

She listened to the other sorceress attentively, trying to follow as best as she could where her story was heading, her mind restlessly searching for the pieces of the puzzle she was still missing. When she mentioned the men on which she had cast a spell during the night, her brown eyes swiftly surfed around the room and for the first time she actually noticed them in the dim shadows of the small prison cells, still quietly fast asleep. She understood everything the wise woman told her, up until she raised the possibility that she might have been the one to trigger the magical shift in the realm.

Taken aback, and slightly confused at the same time, she stared at Caipra speechlessly as silence filled the room once again, fuzzy thoughts ramming inside her head along with recollections of what had happened earlier in the realm. She tried to make the wise woman’s theory fit with her memories of the ripple and the light, but something just felt off.

That was one piece of the puzzle that simply didn’t seem to fit. “How can that be possible?”

She didn’t understand. Didn’t understand how Caipra could have set off such a powerful shift between two worlds that were miles away from one another. But she tried to voice it out anyway, even if her words were clumsy and almost incoherent. “That thing…that magic that interfered…” She tried to find something to qualify it but her memories, the feelings and sensations connected to them, were blurry and hazy, as if she was trying to remember a dream that was fading away the more she concentrated on it. “It was ancient…and strong…It was…beyond good and evil, beyond anything I’ve ever even heard of.” Then, for a reason that escaped her, she lowered her voice, almost as if she was afraid that the magic itself would hear her. “That thing had a life of its own.” A cold shiver ran down her spine at that moment, as she remembered the terror that had consumed her when the light had captured her on the realm’s beach, when she had been completely powerless against its suffocating pull. But she shook the feeling off quickly and focused on Caipra.

“How could you possibly have triggered it?” She knew the other sorceress was very powerful, but something deep down inside her, some gut feeling, told her that this antique magic was not something to randomly be disturbed by a stronger-than-usual dose of independent white magic…

[Caipra]

Maeve got a point there...a simple, though powerful, forgetting spell couldn't be the only thing responsible for the broken veil. That would be too *easy*...
"I...I don't know..." Caipra just said, now confused.
As she walked a few steps back to sit down, she had a little thrill, as if an airflow had just passed in the room, though every window was closed.
The old sorceress didn't pay any attention to it and simply added: "Rumina's henchman had been able to open it, 2 years ago, to send my husband in the Realm, hasn't he?" She tried to explain.
*if one was able to send someone in the realm, why nobody would be able to get someone out?*
She put one of her elbow on the table, leaned her forehead against her hand and closed her eyes. She thought she would have seen everything in her life already, but magic was really unpredictable.

[Mala]

A life of its own? Mala frowned deeply at the redhead's words. Although her own spirit was still floating around the one they obviously called Caipra, she still heard everything that was being spoken, no matter how low the young mortal's voice was.
Magic was no dead thing indeed, Mala thought for a second, it was something vibrant, something that was part of this world and the elements. But alive? Magic could not be alive. So what was it then, this Maeve talked about? What had she encountered there in this other world that normally was so well seperated from the spheres men lived in? Had she had a voice to call out to her, Mala would have wished to ask, but instead her gaze just travelled to linger on the sorceress for a moment, her eyes transfixed on her as her thoughts circled around that unanswered question.

Too late did she notice that the other woman stepped back a little.

She felt Caipra's senses stir for a only a glimpse of time; felt that the elder woman received her essence and realizing that, Mala held her breath. The sorceress only needed to allow the sensation to linger, she only needed to open up her mind to her... But as Caipra spoke on the ghost realized that the mortal wouldn't do that, and that she was still being unnoticed. And so Mala drew in a deep breath and turned to once more follow the conversation between the attendees; but this time she made sure she kept her distance.

[Ziad]

Ziad had listened to this whole conversation without saying much throughout it, the last being his bit of information on how the redhead had gotten here. What came after that was extremely confusing for him, so a slight frown started to edge on his face as he tried to comprehend what was being talked about exactly. He had never understood magic, but there was a thing or two that he did understand. And that was that things were possibly a bit more complicated than the women seemed to think. Or rather, in other ways complicated.

"Listen," he said, his voice low, showing that he did not want to interrupt. "My shift will be over soon. That does not mean I want to get rid of you, but it means that one of the other guards will show up and then I will have some explaining to do, should you still be here." He motioned at the redhead with a move of his head. "I am sure we can find a place for you to stay until there is a solution to all this. Maybe you can stay with Caipra for a while." He looked at the old woman, having to restrain his urge to give her a look that said ´serves you right´ "or there are taverns in the city, not all of them good for a woman to stay in alone, but I might know a place."

[Caipra]

Caipra suddenly looked up toward Ziad. All her thoughts concerning magic, veil, or anything related had vanished from her mind.
*the tavern...Sinbad* How could she have forgotten about this. Sinbad and his crew were in Basra too. The old sorceress didn't know if this was fate, destiny, or a pure hazard, but the young sorceress was closer to her friends than she could even imagine...and Caipra decided that she would not keep them separated any longer.

"Of course the tavern!" She said as she stood up, looking in turn at Maeve and Ziad.
"I mean, we know a very good tavern were you could have some rest, and maybe eat something. You must be so tired, right now, and this conversation about the veil is leading nowhere. So I think we should forget about it for a while and go get some...breakfast."

She smiled and looked at Ziad, with an understanding glance. There was no doubts that they were talking about the same tavern, though he had no idea that the young woman who had just popped in his office had some link with Sinbad.

"Are you coming with us?" She asked the guard, having already a slight idea of his answer.

[Maeve]

Caipra’s point about Rumina’s henchman also being able to open the realm’s protective veil embedded itself deeply inside her head, arousing once again many new questions to which she had yet to find the answers. Hadn’t the demon used direct magic to send Dim-Dim in the realm? Hadn’t he literally breached the veil with his own powers instead of indirectly tapping into this weird ancient magic to do so? Interrogations rapidly followed one another in her mind but she barely had the time to brood over them, and let alone voice them out, because as the wise woman sat down at the nearest table disconcertedly, Ziad spoke up.

And a couple of words later, the whole matter concerning the magical mystery of her return was dropped, and the wheels arduously spinning in her mind had a hard time slowing down to a halt so quickly. Hence, not really grasping what was going right away, eyes confusedly jumping from Ziad to Caipra (who was suddenly standing again and whose attitude had curiously changed) she only randomly managed to follow the new conversation about another guard soon to come in and a tavern where she was now supposed to go to…

[Ziad]

Ziad gave a curt nod to Caipra´s suggestion. "I will accompany you there" he said, something that was out of question for him. It was early in the morning and the cities were relatively safe, but he still saw it as a form of courtesy. "I would ask you to wait outside though so the guard arriving here soon will not think strange about all this and start asking questions. If you are fine with this, I shall meet you outside as soon as he arrives which can be any moment now."

[Caipra]

Caipra nodded to Ziad.
"Of course, we'll wait you outside. Thank you Ziad" She said with a smile.
She looked at Maeve and invited her to leave the guard's place.

The old sorceress noticed that her behavour was confusing the redhead a bit, but that was only because she had no idea why she was suddenly so impatient to go the tavern.
And after all, for now the most important was not to know how Maeve appeared in Basra. No, the most important is that she was finally back home.

She followed Maeve outside and waited for the chief's guard to join them.

[Maeve]

The sudden change in the discussion kept nibbling at her a little, but she associated her confusion with the fact that her mind was probably still a little blurry from her abrupt return, what with her psychological distress and everything else that had happened. Perhaps she had simply missed a line in the exchange between the sorceress and the guard and was now lagging behind in the conversation as a result. So she simply gave up trying to catch up with it, surrendering to the flow of this new another-guard-is-coming-let’s-go-to-the-tavern-for-the-sake-of-discretion situation…If she had understood correctly.

Thus, she shook off all the unanswered questions still heavily floating inside her head, deciding there would be time to address them later. And by then, she hoped that the fuzziness of her senses, that dizzying sensation gnawing at her as if the weird antique magic had left a residue of tiny magical particles all over her skin, would be gone.

Heeding Caipra’s invitation to go out, she gave Ziad a silent nod and went to the door, and with the wise sorceress following right behind her, she stepped outside in the street.

As the lanes unfolded themselves in front of her once again, she sighed jadedly, realizing once again that this was all truly real. That she was not in some sort of wicked nightmare which she could wake up from. Carefully, she breathed in the early fresh air, her brown irises gently surfing over their surroundings.

Basking in the warm morning rays of the sun like a lazy cat stretching after a nap, the city was almost fully awake now. Stalls and shops were ready for a new day, with people already buzzing around them, chatting and browsing, selling and buying. Lively voices blending together. Colourful outfits merging along with joyous smiles. Delicious smells waltzing in the air like dancers in a ballroom. It was like looking at a painting. A painting animating itself progressively, with new characters joining the scene wherever she looked. A man coming out of a house with baskets of bread. A little girl happily trotting after a dog. Women with their babies laughing quietly.

As she gazed at this casual, peaceful fresco, she found herself wishing to become a part of it. To surrender to the brush of the painter without a care in the world. Just for a few seconds. Just to forget about everything else. Everything she didn’t understand. Everything that hurt too much, let it be emotionally and physically. Like a raw cut in the flesh, not even yet beginning to heal. She had been alright inside the guard’s quarter, but now that she was outside in the streets, where everything was slapping her in the face, almost yelling at her “You’re back! You’re back!”, she could feel her chest tightening again.

But she didn't allow it to get to her.

She turned her head to Caipra tenderly and offered her a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was sincere and affectionate nonetheless, her voice tinted with honest emotion. “How have you been?”

It was a stupid question.

As profoundly as she cared about the wise woman and as much as she truly wanted to know how she had been doing during the past year, she knew that the only reason she was asking her this question was to create a diversion.

Because the last thing she wanted right now was to have the attention on her.

[Caipra]

As Caipra followed Maeve, she hoped that it wouldn't take too long to the other guard to arrive, but at the same time, the guys in the guard's place were still asleep, and the old lady would have felt better if Ziad had still been there when they would wake up.
But she guessed that the chief's guard would have thought about that too, and that he already planned something. So she trusted him for now and she would talk about it again later.

The streets were very calm. People were slowly waking up one by one. For them another normal day was starting, while for Caipra, Maeve and the Nomad's crew waiting in the tavern, this day would change everything.

Caipra felt quite surprised when she heard Maeve's question. She would have expected her to ask a lot of things, the simple fact that she could ask how She had been didn't even cross her mind.
However, it didn't take long to the old sorceress to notice that this was not the only question pending in the red-head's mind.
In a way, she was happy that Maeve didn't say anything about Sinbad yet. The wise lady wanted to let the surprised be full, for both of them, because she knew that this moment would be very important for them, and she didn't have the right to spoil this intense reunion.

So she simply smiled back and answered her friend. "Oh, me? I've been fine. I'm still fine, actually. I'm quite an old woman now, you know. the days go by and look the same. Though some things have changed here since the last time you came, and I had to adapt myself."

[Mala]

It was the moment that the guardsman spoke up again that Mala remembered he was still there with them as well. Feeling the remainder of her living days still be vibrant within her, she turned to him and stepped out of his way a little. She well was aware she neither shielded the sorceresses from his view, nor would he ever notice if she intruded his personal space; and still the ghost did follow this habit smiling internally at the warm feeling this human trait gave her.
With her mind focusing on Ziad's words, Mala tried to understand the troubles of other guardsman showing up soon, but the matter seemed to be too unfamiliar to her as that she would be able to understand what the problem about this was. Just for a split second she wondered whether the mere presence of this Caipra might be enough to unsettle other poeple, and it made her cast her gaze back to the wise woman instantly. Were poeple suspicious in this town? Had she done anything to make them question her? Back when Mala, herself, had still been alive Basra had always been a city of magicians, and it had been nothing unusual at all to have sorceresses be amongst them. So what could possibly worry any guards coming?
The young Roman lingered there for a moment, untill the one she was thinking about agreed with the guard without even asking a single question. It seemed she knew well about the issue and there was not even the slightest trace of objection in her voice when she replied. Quite on the contrary, her face suddenly lit up and a certain excitement seemed to emenate from her very heart. There was something she knew. Something that was to be important for the Celt; something she wouldn't tell.

It wasn't only the need to look after this Maeve anymore that made Mala follow the two women. It was curiosity now, too. Because, whatever it was that had flared up in the elder woman's soul, it wasn't just about a break-fast and some rest.
Casting another glance to the young guard who had just announced to accompany the women to whatever tavern Caipra had in mind, Mala's spirit set itself into motion - following those who carried magic within without any sound. Once outside again, she blinked shortly at the bright sunlight which met her eyes and it seemed to her that the sun shone just a bit brighter now that the effects of the ripple were wearing off. Of course this was nothing to be noticed by a human soul, but beings like her, creatures connected to Mother Earth and life and magic itself were not oblivious to it.

[Ziad]

For once, luck was on his side. The women had just stepped outside, when Farid started to stir. The boy, just like the two men in the cell, had been knocked out cold by whatever magic Caipra had woven about them and now he was awakening. Ziad stiffened, thinking that it was a good thing this happened before the next shift, but a bad one because it left him to worry what the result of all this would be. Whether their memories would cause any further confusion. After all, the red haired woman showing up had not been according to plan, so he praied to the God of his father and that of his mother (who were the same to him anyways), that there would be no further trouble.

Farid seemed disoriented af first, then looked around like a man who had woken from long sleep. When he spotted Ziad by the door, leant against the wall, arms crossed casually over his chest, he froze, then blushed. Ziad knew why. "No reason to feel ashamed, boy," he said, walking over to the table where he had left the scroll on which he had noted the names of the two alleged ´drunkards´. "It was a long night, you did a good job and then things turned really calm so I just let you sleep.

Farid brushed a hand across his eyes, frowning as if trying to remember. "Yes." he then said as if he was indeed remembering something that had never happened. "Thank you, captain."
He turned his head towards the cell. Ziad, reacting quickly, understood that he could apparently ´mold´ the young one´s memory to his liking. "We put them in there, remember?" he suggested. "They had a little too much ale."
"I remember," Farid said simply.

What followed were another few uneasy minutes. The soldiers of the morning shift would soon arrive - in fact, the fact that they had not arrived yet suggested they had either indulged in too much drink the night before or were taking too time with their breakfast or spouses - something Ziad was usually strict about but that fitted him very well this morning, because he was hoping for the two arrested men, Kadeem and Amir Ibn Hisham, to awaken before they arrived.

They did. All he had to do was to repeat the tale. They had been drunk, they had been arrested. Amir first, later Kadeem who had been fetched from his home by the younger guard because there had been a suspition of him having been involved in a tavern brawl- an accusation, Ziad told him, that had been found to be groundless. But he needed a reason for the two men arriving at different times, to avoid questions being asked. If Kadeem lived with a woman or a family who had noticed him being taken away, they would wonder of he just told them a story of staying away late that did not match with reality.

He sent them home, not without a stern look or two and the wish expressed that he would welcome people not making his job more busy by engaging in drinking contests. They left, Kadeem with his head lower than Amir who was obviously not too used to bowing to authority, but they left and Ziad had the feeling they would not give him any further trouble.

Another few moments later, the morning guard arrived and he took his leave, stepping out onto the street and hoping the women would not be standing in all too painfully plain side to await him.