Sordia
06-23-2007, 12:22 PM
Somehow, they always knew when her ship had docked and she returned home to her rooms in Beggar's Court. In the evening, as the sun's light began to slip down below the horizon and began to lose it's hold on the day to night's deepening shadows, there would be the first furtive knock at her door. It was as if they needed the strength of the dark to help overcome whatever fear was in their hearts in order to seek her. The fear was palatable to the pirate-seer, delicious in how much control it held over her customer's lives. Cazic-Thule blessed her these glimpses into his power, and she was ever grateful for the chance these interactions granted her to serve him. Most nights, the women came seeking a solution to an unwanted child. These were quick visits where the seer would brew them a tea from her herbs and tell them to return home. There would be a fever, and the blood would flow the next morning. Simple. Money would change hands and the seer would be richer due to whatever fear these children had caused their mothers by the mere thought of them. More often then not, it was the unwed mistress whose master had instructed them to 'deal' with it, or the unfaithful wife of a soldier who could not easily explain a child whose conception was impossible given her husband's duties. Often times, she delt with the wife and the mistress of the same man. The secrets within the secrets in the lives of those dutifully bound in Freeport. Sometimes, there would be a man who appeared at her door. In these instances, she knew what dish it most likely was to be that he would want that night. She would go then to the pantry and prepare a small meal. It would take little to no time to learn of what hex he wished, but always the meal would be ready before he was done his tale of why this person deserved what it was they got. Revenge, indeed is best served cold and little more need be done then a mixture of a few more exotic ingredients aged perfectly to increase the potency of the dish. Money and instructions always followed, but the real payment was always the scent of fear, intoxicating in its strength. This time back into port was no exception. The knocks came and went for days, and Shaylia's personal wealth grew in trinkets and baubles and at times outright gold, whatever it was that the person had to pay with. After being back in her home for little over a week a knock came, but this time not with the rising of the moon, but with the coming of the dawn. The seer had been awake already for a while, having never needed much sleep herself and being of the inclination that staying in bed was wasting away the day. There was time enough for rest when you die, she had always felt. At the door stood a young Ayr'dal, beautiful and haggard looking as if she had not slept or eaten in days. Shaylia moved aside and quirked her eyebrow at the lass. Reaching out with her gift as a shaman, she touched the aura of woman in front of her. <i> This one is not with child.</i> "Come in, Chere. Ye'll give poor Shaylia a chill wid de mornin' air bitin' cold as eet ees dere" The girl hesitated, a moment before shaking her head and entering into the rooms. She began pacing, like a caged animal nervous and wild. Shaylia took her kettle and placed it back on the stove to reheat it and listened as the girl spoke, her heart poured out to the seer in one breathe. "I am sorry if I woke you, but...I just don't know anymore what to do. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I am wasting away. It hurts so much at times I feel like I can't breathe. I need him! I must have him, but he leaves, always leaves for her! Always her. I need him to need me, want me like I want him. Is that a crime to want him to love me? To need me like he promises always before, but then after...oh after he is gone. Gone. Gone. And I never know when he will come back. If he will come back." Shaylia stepped in and calmed the girl, placing her hand on her shoulder and having her sit down at the table in front of some chamomile tea. The girl started at the touch, for she had forgotten where she was a moment in her ranting. "Childe, love ees no crime dere but dis man ye want, he belong ta anoder Aye?" The girl looked up, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. She nodded in silence the fears of seeing the shaman beginning to break through her resolve to find a cure for the pain of loving a man who doesn't love you. "An' he be takin' ye as his mistress den dere? Sayin' dat he wants ye, an' cares fer ye but den he leaves ye?" The young girl bit her lip, as the tears broke free and a small sob escaped. "He...says he is mine...but he isn't mine. He is hers. Hers. Hers always. He goes home to her. I ask him to stay, but he never stays. Never. I would do anything for him, to have him but I can't take the pain anymore." She lifted her head, eyes pleading to Shaylia. "Please help me. Please make the pain go away." Shaylia nodded and moved to her pantry, pulling out dried herbs mixing in a pinch of this and a bit of that. She tied it all up in a little satchel and placed the bag in front of the girl. "Drink de tea dat comes from dis. Eet be bitter, but eet will help ye. Make ye forget dat man." A sob racked the young girls chest and her fingers gently touched the packet of herbs before her. "No," she whispered softly. "I don't want to forget him. Please.," her voice caught in her throat momentarily. " Please, I want you to make him love me. I want him to want me the way I want him. To need me." Shaylia shook her head back and forth disagreeing with the young woman. She had come to feel a small bit of pity for her. The man had done her wrong and she didn't think it was necessarily this child that needed to pay the price for it. "Oh lass, dat be powerful magic dat ye be askin' me ta do fer ye. Eet comes wid a price, always a price an' eet be high. No matter what I do fer ye, I canna reverse eet fer ye once eets done. No, take de tea lass. Be done wid him, ye donna need a man like dat Ye donna want a man like dat." The girl laid her head down on the table and weeped. Her whole body shook with the power of it, and when she raised her face again, bloody tears streaked her otherwise flawless skin. "I can't. I won't. Please don't send me away. Please help me." Shaylia picked up the satchel of herbs and placed it in one of her pockets. From a nearby cabinet, she took out a bone white plate etched in silver. She placed the plate on the table before the girl and walked back to cage that contained a pair of turtle doves. "Dese birds, dey mate fer life." She said, as she removed one of the two cooing to it as she moved along to the table. She placed the bird down on the plate. The young girl stared at the dove, mesmerized by the gentle almost purring sound that was coming from the trembling creature. Her fingers inched slightly closer, wanting to caress the soft feathers instinctively as the shaman turned her back to the table to stand on a chair and retrieve an item from a high shelf across the room. Sitting down in the chair, Shaylia placed a bundle wrapped in thick clothe before her. She untied the cords that bound it, and unfolded the fabric revealing knives and other odd instruments all shining in the candle light and obviously well maintained. "What is it...what are you going to do?" the young girl asked as she pull her fingers back from the softly cooing bird. "Oh lass, I told ye dis be powerful magics an' eet be takin' one o' strong will ta be makin' eet. Ye are sure dis is what ye want lass?" Shaylia asked a final time as she took up the smallest of knives from before her. The girl looked first at the knife in the seer's hand, then to the dove and finally up into Shaylia's eyes before answering. "Yes I need this, do whatever it is that you must do." She said, her voice full of pain and conviction. Shaylia reached out and pulled the place closer to her. She gently lifted the bird and turned it over so that its breast was exposed. With her other hand she took the knife and began to carve runes into the flesh as she chanted in a strange tongue that the girl had never heard before. The dove struggled to free itself from Shaylia's grasp, but the shaman's held it firmly into place, its blood running down her fingers and pooling onto the plate below. Finally as the bird's life slipped away, Shaylia cut deep into its breast, and carved out its heart. She placed the bird down on the table in front of the girl and the still beating heart onto the plate in its own blood. From an assortment of jars before her, Shaylia sprinkled some herbs all the while her chant never missing its cadence. The Ayr'dal watched the heart beating before her in shock, as the chanting abruptly came to an end. "Eat eet." Shaylia said quietly. "Ye must eat de heart Chere. Ye must do eet now." The girls eyes widened as she looked up at the shaman and she hesitated momentarily. Shaking her head as if to quiet any doubts she reached out and took the heart up into her fingers and placed it in her mouth. Instead of gagging as she thought she would, the girl was surprised to find that the flavor was more delicious and delicate then she could have ever imagined. She found herself desiring more, but found that the tiny morsel was gone leaving a longing on her tongue. "It...was wonderful." she whispered softly. Shaylia nodded in agreement. "Eet was yer hearts desire lass. But de spell eet ees not through yet." Shaylia walked over to the cage where the mate of the dove on the table had gone silent. She brought the cage to the table and put it down. She mixed more herbs from jar in front of her and placed them in a small envelope. These she placed into the girls hand. "Ye must feed him dis heart tonight before de sun rises. De spell has already been cast so ye need not worry about what ye say, but ye must feed dis to him like ye just had eet yerself. Tell him dat eet ees an aphrodisiac. Eet ees true an' he will nay want ta leave ye again." The girl nodded as a smile filled her face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a diamond the size of a plum. The color and cut were so perfect it was obvious that the treasure was one of those rare gems from the mines of Kaladim. "Remember lass, ye must feed eet ta him tonight." The girl's smile broadened as she gathered up the bird and made her way to the door. "Getting him to come to me is the easy part," she said. "He always comes to me before he heads home, it is the leaving that breaks my heart everyday." Shaylia watched as the girl left carefree and giddy at the thought of her lover being fully hers for the first time. "Oh childe, ye will be back. Ye'll be one o' de first ta come ta me door next time I make port. Mark me words," she said as she closed the door behind her and began to clean up after the ritual. "An' ye will be wishing dat ye had just drank de tea, but by den eet will be too late."