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311 - Bitter Decoction Pt.2 [Cherno]
🕑 Added 2025-09-01 03:48:52 +0000 UTCKrahe stared into the middle-distance for a moment, steeling herself for the great struggle to come. A few minutes later, with only some grimacing, she had choked down the rest of the decoction and returned to Firminus with the glassware. She immediately rinsed and refilled the glass in the sink, emptying it in the vain attempt to get the decoction’s aftertaste out of her mouth. From behind came a cackle of cruel schadenfreude.
“It will linger for a few hours. Nothing that can be done,” Firminus said from right-behind. He held his hands up, stained deep purple to the wrists. Stepping aside to let him get at the sink, Krahe asked, “How long was I out?”
“Not long, thanks to me — the rite was yesterday,” he said, nodding towards a wall-mounted clock. It read:
11:47
DAYTIME
Self-satisfied, the grafter added, “Without my and the Inquisitor’s aid, you would have likely regained consciousness within two or three days. Another four days before the headaches would have abated, give or take. You’re welcome.”
“The Inquisitor?” Krahe asked. She figured Firminus had dosed her with something to lessen the aftereffects, but she wasn’t sure about what Yazata Heptaxia could do.
“Of course. She sealed your consciousness. No drifting, no risk, no dreams,” he said, gesturing to his forehead. Krahe reached up, and realized a band of Black Binding was still wrapped around it — but the moment she tried to slip her finger beneath it, it crumbled like an old leaf. She ran her fingers through her hair, but found no remnants at all, like the rest of it had disintegrated in an instant.
“Your eidolon. How did it turn out? I am told the ritual was quite a spectacle. It certainly felt the part, as narrow as my frame of reference is,” the grafter changed the topic. Krahe realized then; that’s right, since he was playing the organ during the ritual, with his back turned, he could not very well see it taking place.
“And just how narrow is it?” Krahe asked.
“Two others. One was a patient who showed it to me. The other was a fellow apostle when I was young; I was also the only one qualified to play the ceremonial organ, so I played, just as I did for you,” Firminus answered, continuing to wash his hands. Whatever reagent had dyed them was taking its time coming off. She wondered if there was an actual reason not to use gloves.
“And? My own frame of reference is not precisely wide-spanning, either,” Krahe continued her questioning.
He thought for a few moments. “The first one, a cat, simply grew larger and more ferocious, gained an extra tail and two additional eyes. The second one, a sort of winged serpent, changed altogether into a chimaera — it sprouted spider legs, gained a line of spikes down the full length of its spine, and somehow gained the ability to manifest either large enough to envelop a man or as three smaller copies of itself,” he said, halting every few words. It was obvious to Krahe that he wasn’t making things up, but rather trying to discern what was acceptable for him to disclose. In the process, the stain of his hands finally came off, and as he wiped them, off, he finished his thought: “Based on what I learned, it seems to be the common pattern that, when evolving, eidolons either simply become more of what they already were, or change in a drastic manner. I am not certain what became of the spider-serpent, but the patient with the feline eidolon spoke of the spirit’s growth as if it had become a peer to him in battle, rather than a mere familiar. Whether that applies to your case, well…”
He shrugged, walking back to his previous spot, sorting through several phials of differently-colored oils.
“Did Heptaxia not have anything to say? If anyone, I presume she would point out any serious abnormalities, and if not point out, then at least notice them,” Krahe tried digging in a different direction.
“Oh yes, she made a note. ‘Not particularly abnormal given the circumstances,” I believe is what she said.”
With a mild groan of frustration, Krahe circled back to Firminus’ own experiences: “You’ve seen the two evolved True Eidolons. I can just show you mine and you tell me if it lines up, how’s that?”
“Do you not know the Speaker of the Lost Sun Society?”
“I am here right now, and unlike the Speaker, I am at least three-quarters certain you won’t leak whatever you learn from me showing you the eidolon.”
“Three-quarters? I thought it would be two-thirds at best,” the grafter said, facetiously. He set down his phial and turned his full attention to her. “Alright, bring out the carrion bird. It still is a raven, isn’t it?”
“More or less. Barzai, come out.”
Once more Krahe’s shadow solidified, and from within its inky black the flame-eyed gargoyle emerged.
Firminus looked down at Barzai, one eyebrow raised. Then, he looked at Krahe, then Barzai, then Krahe again. He shrugged, “I am not sure if this is the answer you had hoped for, but I must agree with Ms. Heptaxia’s assessment. I can at least say the eidolon still matches its owner.”
Krahe sighed, and willed Barzai to return to her. “It was worth a shot. One more thing-” she started.
Firminus interrupted, “-Juno is sitting in on scriptural studies until two. She is in high spirits, if that is what you meant to ask.”
She didn’t even have it in her to call him an asshole, and instead just gave him a dead-eyed stare for a few moments. “Alright, I get it, anointing and reshaping eyeballs must be fiddly work. Which way to the exit?”
“Oh it’s remarkably easy, I simply hate having someone hovering over my shoulder. The door behind me, straight ahead until the stairway.”
To somewhat mild disappointment on her part, once again, Krahe did not find herself being accosted by a convenient target on her way from the Invisible Temple to her office. She did however, ever so briefly, spot a semi-familiar shape across the street, that of a young woman in a dress and bearing two enormous gauntlets.
She well and truly weighed going straight to the Lost Sun Society, but she really, really wasn’t in the mood for it. She already had all the actual material she expected to get from there, and revealing Barzai’s evolution in a semipublic setting would only risk stripping her of the advantage of surprise if an informed enemy came after her, and for what purpose?
No, none of that. The headache was gone and Krahe was fresh from her longest sleep cycle in a while, so right when she arrived at the office, she took to finishing preparations for the Zor’Aguhastra dive ritual. She departed for Sorayah’s house that very evening, tools and reagents in tow, intent on preparing the Sorcerer’s Hand and performing the dive ritual that very night.
