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rainbowfic2025-10-30 09:20 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2025-10-30 09:20 pm
Warm Heart #25; Azul #9; CotD - 30/10/25 [Starfall]
Name: Turn To Dust
Story: Starfall
Colors: Warm Heart #25 (Spite); Azul #9 (Willpower); Colour of the Day - 30/10/2025 (Wheedle)
Supplies and Styles: Charcoal + Chiaroscuro + Graffiti (for October Challenge incl. bonus prompt "Psychological Horror") + Novelty Beads ("But I am alive. And I am not afraid." frombookblather for Birthday Prompts 2021).
Word Count: 3808
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mental manipulation, threat, injury, death.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313. Leion Valerno, Donn Chiulder, Tana Veldiner. (This isn't Psychological Horror as a genre per se, but I thought taken as a prompt, it fitted too perfectly not to use for this).
Summary: Leion faces his worst nightmare.
Leion cleared a space on his desk and dragged a pile of letters, receipts and bills towards him. He grimaced, and then set to work on dividing up payments received from copies of his demands for payments—noting in his account books clients with money owing—and records of items paid for and hours worked to pass onto Tana's office. Having sorted the former into piles, he then frowned over the latter until he had all the receipts pinned in the right places, as the High Council never coughed up funds lightly.
That done, he gathered up any unwanted paper for scrap, which he dumped in the bottom drawer. Leion, feeling accomplished, perched on top of the desk and thought about Viyony instead. He wanted to take her to the Sea Festival, but he hadn't seen her since they had returned from Calla Island. If he asked her, might she feel he was pressurising her into agreeing to an affair?
Fern jumped up beside him and settled down on a further, unsorted pile of paper. He stroked her back, idly running his fingers through her grey fur. "What do you think, eh?"
The Sea Festival only happened once a year, and Viyony might never visit Portcallan again. Whatever else was going on between them, or, worse luck, not going on, Leion wanted to share that with her.
A noise from the tiny kitchen beyond the office broke into his musings. He lifted his head, Fern's frame stiffening under his hand. He gave her a look. It's not me, and it's not you, so...
Leion stood and turned towards the door. It was open, and there was someone standing there. A slight, pale older man, sandy-haired with a sharp, too-bright gaze fixed on Leion.
Chiulder.
For a moment, they both froze in their positions. Leion's heartbeat thumped in his ears and bile rose in his throat. He backed into the desk and Fern leapt softly down and slunk away in protest. His hand scrabbled around for something that wasn't a paper or pencil and came away empty.
At the same time, he couldn't quite take it in: not only Chiulder standing right in front of him, stepped straight out of his worst memory and darkest dreams—but Chiulder here, brazenly, fearlessly, in his own office. The man didn't have the nerve.
"You! What do you want?"
"You asked me to come."
There was a warning glitter in Chiulder's eyes as he spoke. He didn't move nearer, wary, but held his ground. His voice went right through Leion's frame: he felt it in his bones and blood. Of course he had asked Chiulder here. Why, though? Leion put a hand to his head. It wasn't his thought—he would never have summoned Chiulder here. Leion sat back down on the desk, shaken. But Chiulder couldn't ever control his thoughts again. It wasn't possible. Unless -
"You asked me," Chiulder repeated, quiet and sure. "I would never have risked it otherwise. You know that."
Leion looked away. That couldn't be true, could it? And Chiulder could interfere with his thoughts; he knew that. He opened his mouth to say so, to object, but the words died in the air. He could remember those facts, but he couldn't quite make either travel along their rightful train of thought to reach any proper conclusion. He gritted his teeth and managed somehow not to voice his agreement out loud.
"We should go," Chiulder said. He shifted his stance in the doorway. "Remember. We don't want to be interrupted."
Leion straightened up immediately. That part he could agree with. He didn't want to think about anyone else walking in on them—his family or friends, or Viyony, or even a client. No one deserved that. A spark lit in him as he pictured Chiulder manipulating any of them; it gave him the strength of will to stop and hold up a hand. "Wait. This isn't right."
"Isn't it? You wanted this—let's find somewhere better to see it through."
To see it through. Leion breathed out. That made more sense. Perhaps it was even a plan he'd made; probably with Tana. To end this business with Chiulder—yes, he wanted that.
They walked down Zindelen Road together. At the first opportunity, Chiulder turned off into a narrow lane that twisted away from the street, passing round the back of the houses and courtyards, urging Leion to follow him with soft, persuasive words. They wound their way towards the docklands via similar unmarked lanes, back streets and alleys, all baked in the late afternoon city heat.
Leion followed. It had been his idea; of course, he knew that now. He had arranged it with Tana; he must have done. He had forgotten the details, but it wasn't important. He would find out where Chiulder had been hiding out and then they would end this. It wasn't wise—his nerves were on end, his hair was on end, his teeth watered at something unnameably wrong. But it had to be done, and it was the only explanation. He wouldn't come all this way with Chiulder without reason.
"Hurry," said Chiulder, turning around, his tone now blade-edged. "We can't waste time."
Leion drew in a breath and wiped sweat from his brow. "Hang on." The sense of wrongness clarified for an ugly instant. He should not be going anywhere with Chiulder under any circumstances. What had he and Tana been thinking?
"You said so," Chiulder said putting a hand to his arm, but not quite closing his fingers about him. "You asked for this. You want to put things right. You do, don't you?"
"Yes. I suppose so, but I -" Again, the objections evaporated on his lips. Something really obvious was wrong, but what remained out of his grasp. He shrugged and picked up his pace, picking his way along a worn set of steps, the masts of ships increasingly visible in the gaps between buildings and walls. "It's just." He halted. "I—this isn't how I pictured this." Whatever this was.
"Nearly there," said Chiulder. "Keep up. You don't want me to get away from you, do you?"
Leion's doubts subsided, but lurked like ominous shadows moving about just below the surface. "Right." They were getting nearer to the docks now and when they turned the next corner, he was assailed by the smell of fish from somewhere unseen. They weren't yet at Lock Street where Chiulder had shut him in the cellar, but they were in the same area. A shudder passed through him and he dug his heels in and stopped.
None of this made sense. But it must be right, because Chiulder simply didn't have the strength of affinity to come in and make him do anything with just a few words. He had to work at it slowly, to prey on a person's own wishes and fears—slide unseen under their guard. Unless—unless—there was something Leion ought to be able to remember that might factor into the equation -
The thought slipped away.
"We mustn't be late." Chiulder waved him on. "Almost there. Come on. You wanted this."
Chiulder led him down a blind alley, narrowed at its entrance by the boarded up lobby of a large empty workshop—it must have been extended outwards at some point, halving the original width of the street at that point. At the far end there was a small channel of water running alongside a high wall that blocked off the alley—one of Portcallan's tiny lost rivers or streams coming up for air, or perhaps part of the workshop's water system. Water of a worrying purple shade with a greasy sheen slid along it.
They halted there; Chiulder standing with his back to the water and Leion facing him; on his right hand side close to the high wall that ran from the abandoned workshop right along the street and over the water to join the anonymous back of the large block of a building on the other side.
The blanket heat enveloped them, but Leion shivered. He put up a hand to his hair, and found his fingers damp with cold sweat. Goosebumps rose on his skin. The notion that something he couldn't explain was terribly wrong persisted in the back of his mind, but it didn't make sense. He wouldn't be here unless he wanted to be.
"Well done," said Chiulder. "It will be over soon now. Just like you wanted."
Leion swallowed. He tensed without understanding why. He must want this. He had arranged it with Tana, to lure Chiulder into a trap. That made sense, didn't it? So, why as he stared past Chiulder into the murky waters, did he feel nauseous?
(He knew Chiulder was dangerous, that he wouldn't wander off him with, and he had to—had to -)
The thought fled from him again.
"Don't worry," said Chiulder. He was sweating too; sandy hair damp and darkened against his white skin. "It's all right. Stay there, against the wall. Look over there—you'll see why shortly."
Leion obeyed, but narrowed his gaze. The side of the building opposite wasn't especially enlightening. It had been painted beige a long time ago, but that was peeling away to reveal a mix of an older, dirty green coat and occasionally patches of original pale sandstone. The straggling remnants of a bill poster clung to it, but its original message was long gone.
"I don't see," said Leion. Frustration leaked into his voice. Burn it, he would rather be anywhere but here.
Chiulder took a step nearer. "Stand still," he said more softly. "Keep looking. You'll see. It is your plan, after all."
Leion nodded, but something twisted in his gut. Doubts bubbled to the surface of his mind again. He swung around. "No, tell me now!"
Chiulder was holding a knife. Nothing could make that add up to any sense in the world. Leion cursed and started violently, pressing himself back against the wall as hard as he could. He could feel its warmth through his thin summer clothes, and yet he remained so cold.
"Stand still," ordered Chiulder. He spoke quietly, but the command nevertheless pinned Leion in place.
Leion's gaze strayed to the blade, Chiulder's hold on it so unsteady that he could see it shaking. He strained to move. Nothing entirely added up yet, but he couldn't stay here. He should at least put his hands over his ears to stop Chiulder's voice, but all he could do was lean against the wall. His fingertips scrabbled against its worn, uneven surface, but found no purchase.
"How?" he managed.
Chiulder hesitated; alarm darting into his eyes. "Someone cared enough to continue the work you stopped."
"Clearly." Leion couldn't move and he should be able to. He'd broken out of this state before. Once he saw through Chiulder's tricks, they ought to have no more power over him. Yet his mind remained tied up in knots.
Chiulder advanced further. "Shh," he said. "Stay quite still. You said, you did say, that you wanted to end it, and this is the only way." His voice trembled. "The only way, Valerno. For good."
Chiulder stepped to the left, taking him out of Leion's immediate line of vision. He moved somewhere at the side of him, close enough for Leion to feel the air shift as he went. Leion's skin crawled. He imagined the blade against his throat, the same as last time, with Atino; felt it whether it was really there yet or no. But that fear and a surviving white-hot steel thread of inner fury shook the power of Chiulder's words and released him.
Leion gasped and slid hastily away from Chiulder along the wall. He turned hastily, raising his arms in front of him, warding off a blow that didn't quite come.
"No, no! Stay still."
The direct order brought Leion to a halt again, but he had broken through part of Chiulder's control, enough to catch his breath and steady himself; he found ground in his own mind.
"No," Leion said. He lowered his hand and took one deliberate step forward. His whole body strained against the movement, but he did it.
Chiulder's eyes widened. He backed up against the waterside railings with nowhere to go if Leion rushed him. He darted a look from side to side, and then seemed to lose his head. He threw the knife, but he was trembling so hard that it went wide of the mark. It caught Leion's arm and then hit the stones, striking one of them at an angle and skittering back towards Chiulder.
They both dived for it; Chiulder throwing himself down onto the road and scrabbling about, but Leion was nearer. He kicked it, sending it shooting past Chiulder and into the water, where it vanished with a final, dismal splash. Leion should have grabbed it, but it was better to get rid of it when he couldn't yet trust himself. Chiulder still had by the far the largest part of his arsenal remaining to him.
Leion's gaze travelled instantly to Chiulder, who was on his knees, staring at his shaking hands. The need to obey, to remain standing still, despite the danger of it, finally left Leion. He breathed out and flexed his fingers, free to be himself again.
"Whatever you took," said Leion. "It's wearing off, isn't it?"
Chiulder didn't raise his head; his form wracked by violent shudders. Leion didn't risk waiting to see if he would recover. He lunged for the little rat, and pinned him down on the stony patchwork ground of the alley.
"Right," said Leion. "Now don't move—and if you say anything I'll thump you!"
Someone else ran down the alley, footsteps echoing against the walls. Leion kept his grip on Chiulder and turned his head to see who it was.
"Valerno," said a man he vaguely recognised as one of Tana and Ufferden's people. "Good work."
Words deserted Leion. He let go of Chiulder and jumped up, dusting down his clothes. "Good work?" he choked out. "Where in the empty world were you? He could have killed me!"
"I had to send word to Imai Veldiner," the man said. "She'll explain. If she deems it necessary."
"Oh, thank you!"
The man took a step nearer and then halted with a startled curse. Chiulder was struggling as if against an unseen assailant—having some sort of fit, kicking out and clawing at the dirt and stones. His skin was slowly gaining an unnatural green tinge.
Leion grabbed the agent's arm before he could move nearer to Chiulder. "Don't," he said, his gaze fixed on Chiulder. He seemed almost to be glowing at the edges. Leion blinked, but the illusion, if such it was, remained.
"What is going on?"
Leion and the agent turned their heads. Tana had arrived.
The man straightened. "Imai Veldiner. I'm not sure—Valerno seized him, but -"
"I didn't do anything to him," said Leion. "He brought me here to kill me. Presumably he meant to dump my body in the water."
They all looked at Chiulder, an increasingly uncanny figure on the stones; a nimbus of grey-green dust around him.
"Which," said Leion, "he had plenty of time to do before your officer bothered to intervene."
"You may thank me for keeping your office under observation later," said Tana. She put a hand to Leion's shoulder and moved to approach Chiulder, but stopped sharply. "Stars! Stay back, both of you."
"I think," said Leion slowly, "that whatever it was he was using to amplify his affinity, he took so much he's—I think he's dispersing."
Chiulder gasped and tried to draw himself upright by means of the railings behind him, leaning over them, breathing like a saw. "Help me," he choked, and threw up grey-green dust into the water, the motes sparkling in the one daring shaft of sunlight that had strayed into this unlovely place.
Tana stepped forward. "Donn Chiulder," she said, her clear tones causing him to turn his head and look at her. "What did you take? Tell us, or we can't help you."
Chiulder disintegrated into a bout of wild shuddering and lost his grip on the rail. He slid to the ground. "All of it," he said, his voice thick. "Every last drop!" He looked upward, to Leion, his gaze opaque. "I was going to kill him - make him pay -" He cried out.
"Yes, but what was it?" Tana tried again.
The halo of dust around Chiulder grew greater as he became more and more translucent at the edges.
"Stars. He is dispersing," said Leion.
Chiulder gave a ragged scream. "Help! Stop it, help—somebody stop it!"
"We need a medic," said Tana. She nodded to the other man, and he raced away. "Leion, he can't be dispersing. That's absurd."
Chiulder writhed around on the stones. His skin was growing grey and green and even his clothes seemed to be crumbling away with him. Leion could feel the heat emanating from him, as if he was a festival beach fire.
"Tana!" said Leion.
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back, right to the end of the alley. They stopped beside the outcropping lobby and watched a cloud of dust rising into the air from where Chiulder was lying. His body was steadily diminishing; the green-grey cloud expanding. It sparkled in the air; an incongruously fairy-tale effect. His body jerked about and they heard a sound, like a gust of wind, and what was left of Chiulder exploded into shimmering dust.
Leion swore, his voice shaking. Tana, beside him, sagged against the wall and then down onto the steps, where she sat, her hands on her knees.
Leion had to see. He walked forwards slowly, his hand out in front of him, as if navigating in the dark, but but the time he got there, there was little left even of the fine dust. He knelt and stretched his fingers out towards the dust, but couldn't bring himself to touch it. A few silvery motes decorated the stones while more danced over the murky channel before they evaporated or sank, stolen away into stone and air and water; an entirely different offering to the spirit of the place than the bloody one Chiulder had intended.
They said that when a Power dispersed, their essence went into the location where they fell. Leion stifled a shiver. Something of Chiulder forever lurking in this shadowy corner of the city struck him as an unpleasant idea.
Leion rose. The ground felt unsteady under his feet. Was he losing his mind? He crossed to lean against the railings, with half an idea to try and fish around in the water to find the knife—something, anything to prove that Chiulder had been here, that all of this had been real. "Are we dreaming?"
Tana leant on the railing next to him. "No. I would never dream about him. Leion. Are you all right?"
He closed his eyes and remained there for a few moments, considering the question. His head ached. If he stopped gripping the railing so tight, his hands would tremble. But he was here. His nightmares had come true and Chiulder had got into his head again, having borrowed unthinkable power to do so—and Leion had still seen through it in the end. Now, Chiulder was dead, and Leion was alive.
"Yes, I suppose I am." He straightened up, and gave her a small quirk of the mouth. "The worst happened, and now it's over."
Tana turned away and surveyed the empty alley. "I don't understand. I thought only the Powers dispersed. And I thought until today that was a metaphor."
"It happens," said Leion. He'd read enough about affinity by now to have gathered that much. "It's pretty rare, and it's usually triggered by bloodroot poisoning. Or if somebody has such strong affinity they become something close enough to a Power for this to happen."
Tana folded her arms in against herself. "So it was caused by whatever he took to amplify his affinity?"
"You heard him," said Leion. "He stole it from someone. Took all of it, he said. I suppose at that point he might as well have been Iden herself, and I don't have to feel quite such a fool for letting him twist my mind up like that."
Tana raised her gaze, examining the walls and buildings that surrounded them. "Well, we know for certain now that someone is playing that particular game again. If they've found out how to make or obtain something that works, I'm sure Chiulder's theft won't stop them for long."
"And it seems to be more effective and more dangerous than what Atino used."
Aima's fate lay between them, unspoken, as well as Chiulder's. Leion thoughts flew to Viyony, too. This was the kind of danger he'd feared for her at the start.
"Yes." Tana walked over to the railings and peered into the water. "I must get someone to retrieve that knife."
Leion barely heard her. His mind seemed to settle suddenly, as if moments before it had been a bird flapping about the place, and now it had come to roost where it belonged. Everything was more real, carried more weight. He breathed in and out carefully, bile at the back of his throat. He'd been sick last time Chiulder had messed with his mind, and he'd rather be excused this time around. He rubbed his head, exhaustion spreading through him. He didn't want to be here any longer—didn't want to talk about any of this. He wanted to go home and sleep for a week. Maybe a month. He clenched his fists and straightened. He remembered that feeling from last time, too.
"Were you having me followed?" he asked.
"I was having your office watched," said Tana. "After Lock Street, we knew Chiulder was trying to hurt you. I thought sooner or later he'd turn up at your door if he was serious about it."
"Thank you, then. And don't do it again."
Tana smiled. "Don't flatter yourself, Leion. We haven't got the staff to spare."
"Ha." Leion's headache and exhaustion were growing. So was the nausea. He angled away from Tana. "Shit," he gasped, and threw up into the water.
"Well," said Tana from somewhere above him, "at least that medic will have something to do once they finally arrive."
Leion stared at his blurry reflection; in queasy motion, which seemed about right. "I hate him. I hate this."
Tana crouched down beside him. "I am sorry, Leion. But you're right, you know. He's dead. He'll never do that to anyone again. And you—you're still here."
Story: Starfall
Colors: Warm Heart #25 (Spite); Azul #9 (Willpower); Colour of the Day - 30/10/2025 (Wheedle)
Supplies and Styles: Charcoal + Chiaroscuro + Graffiti (for October Challenge incl. bonus prompt "Psychological Horror") + Novelty Beads ("But I am alive. And I am not afraid." from
bookblather for Birthday Prompts 2021).Word Count: 3808
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mental manipulation, threat, injury, death.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313. Leion Valerno, Donn Chiulder, Tana Veldiner. (This isn't Psychological Horror as a genre per se, but I thought taken as a prompt, it fitted too perfectly not to use for this).
Summary: Leion faces his worst nightmare.
Leion cleared a space on his desk and dragged a pile of letters, receipts and bills towards him. He grimaced, and then set to work on dividing up payments received from copies of his demands for payments—noting in his account books clients with money owing—and records of items paid for and hours worked to pass onto Tana's office. Having sorted the former into piles, he then frowned over the latter until he had all the receipts pinned in the right places, as the High Council never coughed up funds lightly.
That done, he gathered up any unwanted paper for scrap, which he dumped in the bottom drawer. Leion, feeling accomplished, perched on top of the desk and thought about Viyony instead. He wanted to take her to the Sea Festival, but he hadn't seen her since they had returned from Calla Island. If he asked her, might she feel he was pressurising her into agreeing to an affair?
Fern jumped up beside him and settled down on a further, unsorted pile of paper. He stroked her back, idly running his fingers through her grey fur. "What do you think, eh?"
The Sea Festival only happened once a year, and Viyony might never visit Portcallan again. Whatever else was going on between them, or, worse luck, not going on, Leion wanted to share that with her.
A noise from the tiny kitchen beyond the office broke into his musings. He lifted his head, Fern's frame stiffening under his hand. He gave her a look. It's not me, and it's not you, so...
Leion stood and turned towards the door. It was open, and there was someone standing there. A slight, pale older man, sandy-haired with a sharp, too-bright gaze fixed on Leion.
Chiulder.
For a moment, they both froze in their positions. Leion's heartbeat thumped in his ears and bile rose in his throat. He backed into the desk and Fern leapt softly down and slunk away in protest. His hand scrabbled around for something that wasn't a paper or pencil and came away empty.
At the same time, he couldn't quite take it in: not only Chiulder standing right in front of him, stepped straight out of his worst memory and darkest dreams—but Chiulder here, brazenly, fearlessly, in his own office. The man didn't have the nerve.
"You! What do you want?"
"You asked me to come."
There was a warning glitter in Chiulder's eyes as he spoke. He didn't move nearer, wary, but held his ground. His voice went right through Leion's frame: he felt it in his bones and blood. Of course he had asked Chiulder here. Why, though? Leion put a hand to his head. It wasn't his thought—he would never have summoned Chiulder here. Leion sat back down on the desk, shaken. But Chiulder couldn't ever control his thoughts again. It wasn't possible. Unless -
"You asked me," Chiulder repeated, quiet and sure. "I would never have risked it otherwise. You know that."
Leion looked away. That couldn't be true, could it? And Chiulder could interfere with his thoughts; he knew that. He opened his mouth to say so, to object, but the words died in the air. He could remember those facts, but he couldn't quite make either travel along their rightful train of thought to reach any proper conclusion. He gritted his teeth and managed somehow not to voice his agreement out loud.
"We should go," Chiulder said. He shifted his stance in the doorway. "Remember. We don't want to be interrupted."
Leion straightened up immediately. That part he could agree with. He didn't want to think about anyone else walking in on them—his family or friends, or Viyony, or even a client. No one deserved that. A spark lit in him as he pictured Chiulder manipulating any of them; it gave him the strength of will to stop and hold up a hand. "Wait. This isn't right."
"Isn't it? You wanted this—let's find somewhere better to see it through."
To see it through. Leion breathed out. That made more sense. Perhaps it was even a plan he'd made; probably with Tana. To end this business with Chiulder—yes, he wanted that.
They walked down Zindelen Road together. At the first opportunity, Chiulder turned off into a narrow lane that twisted away from the street, passing round the back of the houses and courtyards, urging Leion to follow him with soft, persuasive words. They wound their way towards the docklands via similar unmarked lanes, back streets and alleys, all baked in the late afternoon city heat.
Leion followed. It had been his idea; of course, he knew that now. He had arranged it with Tana; he must have done. He had forgotten the details, but it wasn't important. He would find out where Chiulder had been hiding out and then they would end this. It wasn't wise—his nerves were on end, his hair was on end, his teeth watered at something unnameably wrong. But it had to be done, and it was the only explanation. He wouldn't come all this way with Chiulder without reason.
"Hurry," said Chiulder, turning around, his tone now blade-edged. "We can't waste time."
Leion drew in a breath and wiped sweat from his brow. "Hang on." The sense of wrongness clarified for an ugly instant. He should not be going anywhere with Chiulder under any circumstances. What had he and Tana been thinking?
"You said so," Chiulder said putting a hand to his arm, but not quite closing his fingers about him. "You asked for this. You want to put things right. You do, don't you?"
"Yes. I suppose so, but I -" Again, the objections evaporated on his lips. Something really obvious was wrong, but what remained out of his grasp. He shrugged and picked up his pace, picking his way along a worn set of steps, the masts of ships increasingly visible in the gaps between buildings and walls. "It's just." He halted. "I—this isn't how I pictured this." Whatever this was.
"Nearly there," said Chiulder. "Keep up. You don't want me to get away from you, do you?"
Leion's doubts subsided, but lurked like ominous shadows moving about just below the surface. "Right." They were getting nearer to the docks now and when they turned the next corner, he was assailed by the smell of fish from somewhere unseen. They weren't yet at Lock Street where Chiulder had shut him in the cellar, but they were in the same area. A shudder passed through him and he dug his heels in and stopped.
None of this made sense. But it must be right, because Chiulder simply didn't have the strength of affinity to come in and make him do anything with just a few words. He had to work at it slowly, to prey on a person's own wishes and fears—slide unseen under their guard. Unless—unless—there was something Leion ought to be able to remember that might factor into the equation -
The thought slipped away.
"We mustn't be late." Chiulder waved him on. "Almost there. Come on. You wanted this."
Chiulder led him down a blind alley, narrowed at its entrance by the boarded up lobby of a large empty workshop—it must have been extended outwards at some point, halving the original width of the street at that point. At the far end there was a small channel of water running alongside a high wall that blocked off the alley—one of Portcallan's tiny lost rivers or streams coming up for air, or perhaps part of the workshop's water system. Water of a worrying purple shade with a greasy sheen slid along it.
They halted there; Chiulder standing with his back to the water and Leion facing him; on his right hand side close to the high wall that ran from the abandoned workshop right along the street and over the water to join the anonymous back of the large block of a building on the other side.
The blanket heat enveloped them, but Leion shivered. He put up a hand to his hair, and found his fingers damp with cold sweat. Goosebumps rose on his skin. The notion that something he couldn't explain was terribly wrong persisted in the back of his mind, but it didn't make sense. He wouldn't be here unless he wanted to be.
"Well done," said Chiulder. "It will be over soon now. Just like you wanted."
Leion swallowed. He tensed without understanding why. He must want this. He had arranged it with Tana, to lure Chiulder into a trap. That made sense, didn't it? So, why as he stared past Chiulder into the murky waters, did he feel nauseous?
(He knew Chiulder was dangerous, that he wouldn't wander off him with, and he had to—had to -)
The thought fled from him again.
"Don't worry," said Chiulder. He was sweating too; sandy hair damp and darkened against his white skin. "It's all right. Stay there, against the wall. Look over there—you'll see why shortly."
Leion obeyed, but narrowed his gaze. The side of the building opposite wasn't especially enlightening. It had been painted beige a long time ago, but that was peeling away to reveal a mix of an older, dirty green coat and occasionally patches of original pale sandstone. The straggling remnants of a bill poster clung to it, but its original message was long gone.
"I don't see," said Leion. Frustration leaked into his voice. Burn it, he would rather be anywhere but here.
Chiulder took a step nearer. "Stand still," he said more softly. "Keep looking. You'll see. It is your plan, after all."
Leion nodded, but something twisted in his gut. Doubts bubbled to the surface of his mind again. He swung around. "No, tell me now!"
Chiulder was holding a knife. Nothing could make that add up to any sense in the world. Leion cursed and started violently, pressing himself back against the wall as hard as he could. He could feel its warmth through his thin summer clothes, and yet he remained so cold.
"Stand still," ordered Chiulder. He spoke quietly, but the command nevertheless pinned Leion in place.
Leion's gaze strayed to the blade, Chiulder's hold on it so unsteady that he could see it shaking. He strained to move. Nothing entirely added up yet, but he couldn't stay here. He should at least put his hands over his ears to stop Chiulder's voice, but all he could do was lean against the wall. His fingertips scrabbled against its worn, uneven surface, but found no purchase.
"How?" he managed.
Chiulder hesitated; alarm darting into his eyes. "Someone cared enough to continue the work you stopped."
"Clearly." Leion couldn't move and he should be able to. He'd broken out of this state before. Once he saw through Chiulder's tricks, they ought to have no more power over him. Yet his mind remained tied up in knots.
Chiulder advanced further. "Shh," he said. "Stay quite still. You said, you did say, that you wanted to end it, and this is the only way." His voice trembled. "The only way, Valerno. For good."
Chiulder stepped to the left, taking him out of Leion's immediate line of vision. He moved somewhere at the side of him, close enough for Leion to feel the air shift as he went. Leion's skin crawled. He imagined the blade against his throat, the same as last time, with Atino; felt it whether it was really there yet or no. But that fear and a surviving white-hot steel thread of inner fury shook the power of Chiulder's words and released him.
Leion gasped and slid hastily away from Chiulder along the wall. He turned hastily, raising his arms in front of him, warding off a blow that didn't quite come.
"No, no! Stay still."
The direct order brought Leion to a halt again, but he had broken through part of Chiulder's control, enough to catch his breath and steady himself; he found ground in his own mind.
"No," Leion said. He lowered his hand and took one deliberate step forward. His whole body strained against the movement, but he did it.
Chiulder's eyes widened. He backed up against the waterside railings with nowhere to go if Leion rushed him. He darted a look from side to side, and then seemed to lose his head. He threw the knife, but he was trembling so hard that it went wide of the mark. It caught Leion's arm and then hit the stones, striking one of them at an angle and skittering back towards Chiulder.
They both dived for it; Chiulder throwing himself down onto the road and scrabbling about, but Leion was nearer. He kicked it, sending it shooting past Chiulder and into the water, where it vanished with a final, dismal splash. Leion should have grabbed it, but it was better to get rid of it when he couldn't yet trust himself. Chiulder still had by the far the largest part of his arsenal remaining to him.
Leion's gaze travelled instantly to Chiulder, who was on his knees, staring at his shaking hands. The need to obey, to remain standing still, despite the danger of it, finally left Leion. He breathed out and flexed his fingers, free to be himself again.
"Whatever you took," said Leion. "It's wearing off, isn't it?"
Chiulder didn't raise his head; his form wracked by violent shudders. Leion didn't risk waiting to see if he would recover. He lunged for the little rat, and pinned him down on the stony patchwork ground of the alley.
"Right," said Leion. "Now don't move—and if you say anything I'll thump you!"
Someone else ran down the alley, footsteps echoing against the walls. Leion kept his grip on Chiulder and turned his head to see who it was.
"Valerno," said a man he vaguely recognised as one of Tana and Ufferden's people. "Good work."
Words deserted Leion. He let go of Chiulder and jumped up, dusting down his clothes. "Good work?" he choked out. "Where in the empty world were you? He could have killed me!"
"I had to send word to Imai Veldiner," the man said. "She'll explain. If she deems it necessary."
"Oh, thank you!"
The man took a step nearer and then halted with a startled curse. Chiulder was struggling as if against an unseen assailant—having some sort of fit, kicking out and clawing at the dirt and stones. His skin was slowly gaining an unnatural green tinge.
Leion grabbed the agent's arm before he could move nearer to Chiulder. "Don't," he said, his gaze fixed on Chiulder. He seemed almost to be glowing at the edges. Leion blinked, but the illusion, if such it was, remained.
"What is going on?"
Leion and the agent turned their heads. Tana had arrived.
The man straightened. "Imai Veldiner. I'm not sure—Valerno seized him, but -"
"I didn't do anything to him," said Leion. "He brought me here to kill me. Presumably he meant to dump my body in the water."
They all looked at Chiulder, an increasingly uncanny figure on the stones; a nimbus of grey-green dust around him.
"Which," said Leion, "he had plenty of time to do before your officer bothered to intervene."
"You may thank me for keeping your office under observation later," said Tana. She put a hand to Leion's shoulder and moved to approach Chiulder, but stopped sharply. "Stars! Stay back, both of you."
"I think," said Leion slowly, "that whatever it was he was using to amplify his affinity, he took so much he's—I think he's dispersing."
Chiulder gasped and tried to draw himself upright by means of the railings behind him, leaning over them, breathing like a saw. "Help me," he choked, and threw up grey-green dust into the water, the motes sparkling in the one daring shaft of sunlight that had strayed into this unlovely place.
Tana stepped forward. "Donn Chiulder," she said, her clear tones causing him to turn his head and look at her. "What did you take? Tell us, or we can't help you."
Chiulder disintegrated into a bout of wild shuddering and lost his grip on the rail. He slid to the ground. "All of it," he said, his voice thick. "Every last drop!" He looked upward, to Leion, his gaze opaque. "I was going to kill him - make him pay -" He cried out.
"Yes, but what was it?" Tana tried again.
The halo of dust around Chiulder grew greater as he became more and more translucent at the edges.
"Stars. He is dispersing," said Leion.
Chiulder gave a ragged scream. "Help! Stop it, help—somebody stop it!"
"We need a medic," said Tana. She nodded to the other man, and he raced away. "Leion, he can't be dispersing. That's absurd."
Chiulder writhed around on the stones. His skin was growing grey and green and even his clothes seemed to be crumbling away with him. Leion could feel the heat emanating from him, as if he was a festival beach fire.
"Tana!" said Leion.
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back, right to the end of the alley. They stopped beside the outcropping lobby and watched a cloud of dust rising into the air from where Chiulder was lying. His body was steadily diminishing; the green-grey cloud expanding. It sparkled in the air; an incongruously fairy-tale effect. His body jerked about and they heard a sound, like a gust of wind, and what was left of Chiulder exploded into shimmering dust.
Leion swore, his voice shaking. Tana, beside him, sagged against the wall and then down onto the steps, where she sat, her hands on her knees.
Leion had to see. He walked forwards slowly, his hand out in front of him, as if navigating in the dark, but but the time he got there, there was little left even of the fine dust. He knelt and stretched his fingers out towards the dust, but couldn't bring himself to touch it. A few silvery motes decorated the stones while more danced over the murky channel before they evaporated or sank, stolen away into stone and air and water; an entirely different offering to the spirit of the place than the bloody one Chiulder had intended.
They said that when a Power dispersed, their essence went into the location where they fell. Leion stifled a shiver. Something of Chiulder forever lurking in this shadowy corner of the city struck him as an unpleasant idea.
Leion rose. The ground felt unsteady under his feet. Was he losing his mind? He crossed to lean against the railings, with half an idea to try and fish around in the water to find the knife—something, anything to prove that Chiulder had been here, that all of this had been real. "Are we dreaming?"
Tana leant on the railing next to him. "No. I would never dream about him. Leion. Are you all right?"
He closed his eyes and remained there for a few moments, considering the question. His head ached. If he stopped gripping the railing so tight, his hands would tremble. But he was here. His nightmares had come true and Chiulder had got into his head again, having borrowed unthinkable power to do so—and Leion had still seen through it in the end. Now, Chiulder was dead, and Leion was alive.
"Yes, I suppose I am." He straightened up, and gave her a small quirk of the mouth. "The worst happened, and now it's over."
Tana turned away and surveyed the empty alley. "I don't understand. I thought only the Powers dispersed. And I thought until today that was a metaphor."
"It happens," said Leion. He'd read enough about affinity by now to have gathered that much. "It's pretty rare, and it's usually triggered by bloodroot poisoning. Or if somebody has such strong affinity they become something close enough to a Power for this to happen."
Tana folded her arms in against herself. "So it was caused by whatever he took to amplify his affinity?"
"You heard him," said Leion. "He stole it from someone. Took all of it, he said. I suppose at that point he might as well have been Iden herself, and I don't have to feel quite such a fool for letting him twist my mind up like that."
Tana raised her gaze, examining the walls and buildings that surrounded them. "Well, we know for certain now that someone is playing that particular game again. If they've found out how to make or obtain something that works, I'm sure Chiulder's theft won't stop them for long."
"And it seems to be more effective and more dangerous than what Atino used."
Aima's fate lay between them, unspoken, as well as Chiulder's. Leion thoughts flew to Viyony, too. This was the kind of danger he'd feared for her at the start.
"Yes." Tana walked over to the railings and peered into the water. "I must get someone to retrieve that knife."
Leion barely heard her. His mind seemed to settle suddenly, as if moments before it had been a bird flapping about the place, and now it had come to roost where it belonged. Everything was more real, carried more weight. He breathed in and out carefully, bile at the back of his throat. He'd been sick last time Chiulder had messed with his mind, and he'd rather be excused this time around. He rubbed his head, exhaustion spreading through him. He didn't want to be here any longer—didn't want to talk about any of this. He wanted to go home and sleep for a week. Maybe a month. He clenched his fists and straightened. He remembered that feeling from last time, too.
"Were you having me followed?" he asked.
"I was having your office watched," said Tana. "After Lock Street, we knew Chiulder was trying to hurt you. I thought sooner or later he'd turn up at your door if he was serious about it."
"Thank you, then. And don't do it again."
Tana smiled. "Don't flatter yourself, Leion. We haven't got the staff to spare."
"Ha." Leion's headache and exhaustion were growing. So was the nausea. He angled away from Tana. "Shit," he gasped, and threw up into the water.
"Well," said Tana from somewhere above him, "at least that medic will have something to do once they finally arrive."
Leion stared at his blurry reflection; in queasy motion, which seemed about right. "I hate him. I hate this."
Tana crouched down beside him. "I am sorry, Leion. But you're right, you know. He's dead. He'll never do that to anyone again. And you—you're still here."
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Psst! Beta note: He didn't want to be here any long—didn't want to talk about any of this.
Think that long should be longer?
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The mind control is nicely done, but it almost seems a little weak for something that's supposed to be Power-level, but maybe Chiulder just isn't very skilled at using it at that level - everything he actually says seems very vague and he seems to be primarily relying on Leion's imagination to fill in the gaps about why he might have wanted to go somewhere with him, and Leion kept almost realizing that the story he'd made up about that didn't make sense.
If whatever substance he used to enhance his powers has anything to do with what happened to Viyony, it had to have come from someone who returned from Calla Island with them, right? I still feel like it was probably something to do with that sea monster thing in the shrine, and maybe someone is grinding up ancient sea monsters and turning them into some potion or something.
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Chiulder's affinity/power is of persuasion, suggestion and it's fairly mild to begin with. It shouldn't affect Leion at all now because he knows about it and has experienced and rejected it, so this is a big ramping up of what Chiulder can do - but, yes, it is not anywhere near the level of a great Power. If he had been, he could have just effectively told Leion to die and he would.
I hadn't thought about their discussion re. the Powers and their dispersal as being confusing, but I'll have to make that exchange a bit clearer when I can - it's just that an actual dispersal is a shock & an impossible religious thing, so them immediately mentioning the Powers in relation to it is rather like finding Chiulder has taken something to make him sprout feathery wings and then talking about angels.
Leion knows the most about it here (which isn't much) so when he says: whatever it was he was using to amplify his affinity, he took so much he's—I think he's dispersing." that's the best explanation - and again, between him and Tana: it's usually triggered by bloodroot poisoning. Or if somebody has such strong affinity they become something close enough to a Power for this to happen." ... "So it was caused by whatever he took to amplify his affinity?" I should have made it clearer but this is the explanation - he took something that ramped up his affinity to maybe, possibly something approaching a great affiniate but also destabilised him physically into dispersing (which usually only happens in legend to Powers & people with very great affinity) and we've already seen, at least in passing, that increasing affinity can have very dangerous effects. (Affinity is also usually pretty specific & characteristic - Chiulder's power of suggestion is ramped up, but it would always remain the power of suggestion/persuasion).
Anyway, this is the first look at dispersal and everyone's confused and, as I said, I always stick to 3rd person limited, but you're quite right, Chiulder is not at the level of a full Power in any way here! He's not up to it. He can take so much of the potion he gets exploded from within, but not enough to make him a real Power before the side-effects gets him.
If whatever substance he used to enhance his powers has anything to do with what happened to Viyony, it had to have come from someone who returned from Calla Island with them, right?
:-)
I still feel like it was probably something to do with that sea monster thing in the shrine, and maybe someone is grinding up ancient sea monsters and turning them into some potion or something.
People definitely have gone round grinding up mysterious sea monsters into powder and seeing what happens in this world, it's true. Also, in Portcallan, eating them with sauce on. XD
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That was very well timed for Halloween.
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It's good to know that explosion is now on the table of reality-weirding effects to worry about.
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XD
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Ahh, no, it is clear that it happened because he took something to increase his affinity. Just, because they seem to think that this would only happen to someone who had affinity on the level of a Power, I was thinking they were saying it must have increased his affinity all the way to that level (or close to it).
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I see - and that is also correct really, too, in that he must have come close to the level of the lowest 'tier' of Powers - of a localised Power or maybe just a great affiniate, but nowhere near a full Power or even a Lesser Power - and while the different kinds of Powers has come up in a few places briefly, it's been a while!
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1) Do You Hear The People Sing? Les Miserables, https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/lesmiserablescast/doyouhearthepeoplesing.html
2) patriarchy
3) https://64.media.tumblr.com/278e46e5a8ae805762c7e21b432cefbd/689fa2063c1d043a-17/s500x750/b1792e85edb7e9f27e744e7b417ec7826860b27b.jpg
4) “Belief is one of the most powerful organic forces in the multiverse. It may not be able to move mountains, exactly. But it can create someone who can."
5) “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” ― Jim Henson
6) Decorate, decorate
7) https://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/6125953199/
8) “How very awkward places we do choose in which to propose to one another!'" - Georgette Heyer
9) https://64.media.tumblr.com/126289fdc452b992cd3ef313d6c29809/db52c67bd18d7f10-2e/s540x810/3359f87690fb7b70370b60c79fa9356e0acaa99b.jpg
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And thank you also for all the novelty beads. *stashes away for later use like a squirrel*