Zane raises an eyebrow, but then motions Grayell inside and shuts the door behind him. Motioning to a chair, Zane sits himself in another, and then looks to Grayell
Grayell smiles, an awkward sort of smile and hands him the pouch as though it were a dangerous thing within and all secrecy must be kept. He looked Zane in the eyes sternly but said nothing.
(The pouch contains the blood crystal fragments that Grayell collected in the corrupted god adventure.)
Zane takes the pouch and then looks at Grayell funny
"You know, I'm not going to be offended if you talk. But at any rate..."
Zane opens the packet and then looks inside. He pulls out one off the fragments, and then his eye grow really wide and, shaking, he places it back into the pouch and pulls it shut. He then looks Grayell directly in the eyes.
"Do you know what these are? This is the foulest kind of blood-magic, and one of the things that have labeled my art as 'evil'. I have only ever seen one before, and that was in the hands of my master, who taught me how to use my talent for the good of people. He had an ancient and complete one, that he used to help heal."
Zane looks back at the pouch with a look of disgust
"He got his from an auction where nobody knew it's power. But this one seems to have been involved in something dark. Of course, given its nature, that's to be expected. At any rate, mind telling me how this came into you possession?"
Grayell nodded but was rubbing his forehead, arms half-folded. He paced slowly.
Yes, I helped kill the bastard who had it. A long story. Do you know how to destroy it - entirely destroy it? I took it to prevent it ending up in the wrong hands and I am going out on a limb here Zane... but I have no one else to turn to. I need you to know that I am not at all comfortable coming here with this, with blood magic. Nothing against you personally, I just have some..... let's settle with past with the blasted thing.
An idiot might not recognize the high stress that Grayell was apparently under. Zane wasn't an idiot.
"I understand. Blood magic isn't something that most people can discuss calmly, and usually for good reason. Luckily, this one has already been shattered, which makes its power easier to deal with. I may be one of the strongest blood mages who does not rely on these or other blood-rituals, but this will still be very difficult."
Zane looks back down to the packet
"As I said, however, the fact that they are broken, means that each piece does not have the strength of a full one. It can be dealt with piece-by-piece, and that makes it easier. I can do the first piece now, but a second will require more time to rest and recover."
Zane pulls a single tiny fragment out of the pouch, and places it on his desk. He focuses his energy, and then homes in on the latent blood magic in the shard. He directs his strength at it, and an invisible battle begins.
After a few minutes, cracks begin to appear on the shard, and blood starts to come out the corner's of Zane's mouth. Eventually, blood can be seen at the edges of his eyes and a small amount of froth joins the blood coming from his mouth as well. Suddenly, the fragment cracks, shatters, and crumbles in to a fine dust. Zane leans back and sighs
"Well, there's the first. Good job bringing it to me. These are foul things indeed."
Grayell watches with sincere interest and actually looks somewhat relieved, if not confused; when Zane is done.
Look, if this is causing harm to you then this is not an option. But before we give this too much thought, I actually wanted to discuss these a little further. Before that though, I have to know I can trust you Zane.
We all have skeleton's in the closet, but you have to swear that you don't discuss any of this with anyone - and I mean ANYONE. I have to know this remains a secret Zane... and regardless of my friendship with her - you absolutely CANNOT tell lady Serenity.
"Don't worry, the harm is nothing permanent and I've have much worth."
He then stand and pats Grayell on the shoulder
"Relax. I am a doctor. I do not reveal people's secrets. To do so would destroy my honor. And Lady Serenity has no need to know of these things, therefore I see no good reason to break my vow and tell her."
Grayell breathes deep, his head dropped. When he looks up to Zane there is a hint of fear in his eyes, but a stern look wipes it away as he begins to talk. There is little emotion is his voice, this tale was not something he wanted to recount.
I don't know if you will understand what I am about to tell you and please, know that I don't want to discuss this with anyone. I feel as though I must though because.... well things are changing and I have no damned idea what it means.
He pauses, his eyes searching his mind for the best way to start. He shakes his head and taps his foot but then sits forward in his chair. He sighs, shrugs and simply says it.
Look. I was once infected. I'll give you the short version as it's not important, but I had a.... condition... that was quite dangerous. My family sought help and thought they'd had the solution when they had gotten a blood mage to help. He uh...
Well he took the infection from my blood you see. He took it and then used it himself. I don't trust blood mages now.... my family they....
Grayell's eyes were tearing up and his breathing was erratic. He stopped, forced his breath to regulate and cleared his throat. He shifted his jaw side to side, hands clenching hard on his pant legs. He tapped his fingers and then looked up, shaking his head but laughing. It was a stubborn laugh, the laugh a man forces when he is suppressing frustration, anger and sadness. He scratched his chin and forced himself to continue.
Anyways. I don't think it's done with. I don't understand these things, but my blood it's... well shit. There's something in there. It's like it's haunting me Zane and at times I just feel it like it... it's powerful. You know, I know I am in control, but there's some power in there that wants me to unleash it, to really tap into it and tear shit up. I don't know that I can or if I want to, but it feels like there's a wolf in my gut that is trying to get out. I haven't studied any of this but I seem to have some control you know, if I get cut. I can use my blood - not a lot and not for much, but it's not the same.
I feel like it's growing Zane and it scares the shit out of me. After what happened...
He choked on the words this time, he couldn't get passed the tears. They weren't so much on his face as the memories had squeezed his throat, he felt like he simply couldn't speak. Grayell got out of his chair and walked to the window, gripping the ledge and forcing rationale.
Zane walks over and leans against the wall next to Grayell, facing back into the room
"Well, there's a few things there. First, I can't help more without you telling me what exactly the 'condition' was. Second, I don't blame you at all for hating blood mages, maker knows I do. But we're not all bad, and as horrid as my talent may be, they're what I have to work with, and I don't have to be evil. Now, that said, a good number of blood mages can be vicious evil bastards."
Zane sighs and turns to him
"Well, the final thing is, you appear to actually have a small amount of blood magic yourself, if your words are true. I can help teach you how to control it, if you really want."
Grayell looks at his hand. The sunlight through the window frames it and makes it also see through, if only. It's not the lines and scars there that draw his gaze, but the blood that runs through his veins. He nods and takes a moment, a silent moment.
Yeah. The condition.
Grayell sighs heavily. He couldn't keep it buried within him always but that didn't stop the desire to hide from his demons.
I was hunting. I'd wounded the Elk, a shot straight to the gut. It was going to die, but not until it was run down and too tired to fight me off. It was my job to end it.
Grayell laughed, it was short and pathetic.
You know, I can't shoot for crap anymore? My shoulder was torn pretty bad and I simply can't draw a bow for crap anymore. My hand shakes too, can't hit a damn thing.
But I had pursued the Elk through the night and it was an hour off dawn. It's blood trail told the tale, if I didn't find it it was going to kick the bucket anyways. I was confident that I'd have a great deal of meat for the winter and a new coat for....
He bit his lip. The tears fell from his eyes and stained his cheeks in the sunlight. He wiped them off with the palm of his hand, trembling.
My wife. Yeah, she would have loved it you know? But ah... well I was reckless. I was caught up in the hunt and was all too stupid, excited by the prospect of providing for my family.
Grayell smiled, something let him keep the better memories as marred as they were by the torturous past he had to discuss. He turned and faced Zane, tried to look him in the eye but only ended up staring at the floor. He folded his arms, hands tucked into this armpits like he was holding himself.
You know, I'd never fought a werewolf then. I'd had to kill wolves and bear and all manner of beasts, but nothing so savage as that. It hit me without so much as a sound and damn near tore my spine out. That flarbing thing was something else. Just a big, nasty ball of rage that wanted me dead. I fought for my life... and not because I liked fighting. No, I hadn't a choice. All I could remember, was laying on my stomach and then being thrown to my back - and this horrid, dreadful flarbing thing tearing at my guts... I was crammed against a tree and was sliding up and down, side to side whilst it just tore me apart. It's weird to think about it... I mean I remember hearing it tear through my clothes, then my skin, this sick snapping and ripping sound. I remember it feeling like I was kicked in the gut by a yakow, and the sound of it eating me. But you know, like every time it shoved into me, pushed me against that tree, I couldn't look - it's like the stars were telling me something. I could see them but they didn't register, nothing did. I was thinking of my boy and his mother... waiting on me. They needed me......
Grayell was a mess, his hands were snapped shut and his body shook with the trauma he had kept in. He put his hands on his hips, hissed air out and looked at the ceiling; he needed to keep his composure. A hand ran through his hair and then clutched it, an anchor of sorts to steel his resolve.
Yeah well, I snapped back to that damn thing eating my insides and I don't know what happened. I couldn't feel my legs, my left arm was a mess. Could hardly see or anything... but I found my knife and I stabbed it in the throat. It roared, guess I hurt the bastard and I remember that pissing me off. I just kept shoving that damned knife into it like that's all that mattered.
But I don't remember much after the stabbing. I remember waking up by the fire, my father watching me and sharpening his spear. They went nuts when I woke up, panicked and saying I had been damn near dead. Apparently I was unconscious for a week or so.
But yeah, I was healed up. I don't have to tell you what that meant.
"The Werewolf Curse. The most powerful blood curse known. There's never been a case of it being cured. The closest that has ever been achieved is locking it away, partially. There's very little I could do to help you, beyond teaching you mild control over your blood."
Zane stares Grayell in the eyes, a look of complete seriousness on his face
"The most important rule in dealing with any blood curse to remember that your blood does not control you. You control it. I can't promise I can help you, but, I have a few theories on the subject. First is using the very shard you just brought me, and channel their power towards locking away the beast. Second would be a full blood transfer, but that would just channel the curse to somebody else, and has the chance to kill you both."
Grayell looks up then, his eyes cold and angry. It wasn't directed toward Zane, there was no malice for the man in front of him, but instead for the mage in his past. His voice had no changed to the more common, gravelly tone that Grayell had when he was pissed off. This completely changed his ability to talk about his past, the sorrow was immediately swept away by the rage he harbored.
Yeah, transfer. Well that's what the bastard did before he took that power and used it to kill everything I knew. I am not a damn werewolf, but a hunter of those bastards Zane - and that son of a bitch is the reason why.
"Well, I can't really help you then. Is there anything in particular you wanted to know regarding blood magic, or did you just want to make sure I wasn't like my brothers-in-magic?"
Look, I am sorry for dropping this crap on you; that wasn't fair. I just don't understand why this would be happening - why I would be feeling this change if that mongrel took it all away?
"Well, this is the big difficulty with full transferals, too. Your body produces blood, we all know this, but what most people don't know is that really powerful blood curses can infect that too. So you may not have the source blood anymore, but the blood your body natural produces is still tainted, just not as much. So you don't have the same symptoms as before, but there are still traces of the curse, enough to make you feel as you do."
Zane looks at Grayell and shrugs
"Beyond pure willpower, there's not much that can be done about that. Even curing that part of the curse alone is too difficult for me, without a blood crystal or a blood ritual."