#shackle the soul and bind the flesh (in character; ariortos)

[offrozenmemoirs]

It's been ten minutes since his last convulsion. Eleven since the planned experiment reached it's conclusion, though the effects had yet to be seen.

His skin hasn't even grown any more or less pale than when he first arrived. He simply lays there, unbreathing, unmoving, unblinking. Not a single tangible sign of life can be discerned upon the bodyboard he lays upon. Yet, his mind and soul remain intact - and within him, they speak a different story.

One of a struggle to persist, to survive, nonetheless. That he has come too far, loved too hard, even in secret, to die here. That he is alive. He is alive. That despite his mantle, and all that comes with it, the Matron will not be taking him.

Not just yet.

The sharp gasp of a breath, not too unlike that of a newborn infant, resounds through the laboratory. Soon enough, his lungs settle, his body still feeling numb - yet even the lingering aches from the first time he tread so close to the other side have faded away completely.

Not even the fresh incisions sting any longer. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the light of the laboratory. Though pain eludes him, his body is still in shock. All he can do is lay there, allow himself some time, and call out...

"Ariortos..." he calls, sounding more like a whimper than any formal summons he'd be used to. "I am here. I... where are you? I cannot... please, tell me you are still with me. Tell me I didn't awaken for nothing..."

Unprompted Asks || Always Accepting! @ofthescatteredstars

Ariortos is someone who doesn't flinch at the various experiments that he's conducted, even when he grafted the tubeworm organ into his body that increased his resistance to poison, needed after the wyvern's toxin ravaged his nerves, causing pain in the legs and numbness in his hands. He had been wide awake for it, and because of his dislike of being unable to control his own actions, he performed the surgery himself through his magic. It had been an ugly process, leaving his body permanently scarred, and the pain had been unbearable, but he had gotten through it. He didn't flinch when he saw that extended use of his necromancy caused his hands to turn skeletal when using his magic, a sign of his mastery, and connection with the immaterial realm.

Though as he watches Corvus lie there, as still as death, his heart nearly stops. How many times had he dissected a body, pulling its organs out, taking it apart to break down into resources needed for various rituals or to simply lay them to rest when he had worked as a mortician? After so long, the sight of a dead body hadn't bothered him, and there was a calm serenity as he worked, cutting, stitching, reviving, and harvesting. Using them as practice for grafting organs to a new form, to even learn how to reshape the flesh of the dead to make it resemble himself. A crude facsimile in the form of his body to be remotely used.

"The flesh is malleable, meant to be reshaped. To be bound to the service of a new master when the body dies. There is nothing sacred about the dead. The dead are free to be used as we please for our ambitions, our work, our very legacy."

That had been a teaching by his grandfather that he had followed from a young age. So now, why does he feel so...afraid? He had killed his parents without much worry, and he pushed it out of his mind. Why is Corvus different? Is it because of their long-standing friendship? Their loyalty to one another? When he was attending GAAA, he considered following his father's instructions at first, to befriend the various other nobles to get his foot in the door, to gain allies for the future.

Corvus had been...A welcome friend, someone who had been honest with him and didn't seek to befriend him because of his name. He showed interest in his studies, listened to his theories and helped him in his botanical research. It was safe to say that in terms of getting to know people, Corvus was the only person he held no ulterior motive in getting to know. In turn, there was a trust between the two that was unbreakable.

"Perhaps I'll just help you see your goals to fruition. I rather enjoy the idea of being able to stay by your side, darling."

At first, he insisted on trying the concoction that was supposed to repair the damage to his nerves, ending the constant pain that plagued his legs, so that he wouldn't need a cane to walk without being in agony, that he would be able to defend himself physically, without being accosted by an opponent who could take advantage of his disability. He wasn't exactly a duelist, not to the extent of Corvus, but he can recall a time where he was good enough to defend himself with a staff beyond casting.

He spent nights without sleep in his lab, trying to develop the tonic through various distillations of potions, and though it had cost him more than he wanted to spend, even getting his hands on the liver of a dragon in addition to a few vials of blood. That set him back almost thousands in gold and a few dozen in platinum. To have preserved these rare commodities, and the need for travel to even find someone who could've held onto it for so long...The risks were worth the potential benefit.

"If there's one thing you need to know about dragon's blood, grandson, it's that it is worth its weight in gold, in our line of work, bones are precious, especially that of such a majestic beast...But their blood? Their organs? That is a treasure worth more than any bones you can find. They're quite resilient, some legends even say that a dragon's heart beats beyond its death, waiting for the day it can find a host, or to be reunited with its old body. Of course...The very power within them, makes it so that even consuming their undiluted blood is enough to kill ten men."

The words echoed in his mind as he journeyed, taking almost two years before his searches bore any fruit. Even then, Corvus had been by his side through it without complaint. In some cases, he even seemed to be having fun simply traveling with him.

"If this is as dangerous as you say it is...Perhaps I should try it first? I've always been hard to kill, and if I don't make it, then you'll know that you have things to fix."

Ariortos understands the logic of it, but he doesn't like the idea of putting Corvus at risk. Good help is hard to find, and Corvus is worth more than a hundred well trained soldiers to him...But more than that, it is his only friend who's life is at risk. He would be the first to admit that outside of his siblings, he doesn't hold any love or care for the lives of others. It's what made him a better necromancer, a better scientist. He would do anything for the sake of progress, and that made him the perfect head of House Zarin.

"I do not like the idea. If you were to die...Because of my work, I am not sure I would be able to forgive myself. You are the only person who knows of my plans, who has supported me unconditionally. I...Believe that I would be lost without your presence to ground me."

Corvus turned away at first, but...laced his fingers in between Ariortos' gloved ones.

"Then I'll just have to return to you. I swore an oath to remain by your side, no matter what and I intend on keeping it."

Corvus simply smiled at him, and talked him into it. Then, he took the fortified potion. At first, it seemed as if it had no effect, and then, Corvus' body had seized, shaking and spasming, the effects of a seizure. His body had began to quickly heat up, as if it were on fire, and the screams...Ariortos would never forget the screams of agony that ripped from his friend's throat. His hands glowed with magic, shining through his gloves, at first he used healing spells to try and stabilize him, and eventually, the screams died down to pained whimpers, but by then, the spells could no longer be maintained, and Ariortos felt the sweat upon his brow. Then...Silence, and stillness.

Corvus looked to be a corpse, his chest no longer rising, and his body no longer moving. He touches his friend's head, cold, and he places his fingers upon the vein within his neck...No pulse.

"Corvus?"

His voice is small, and he swears in infernal, weaving his hands once again to try calling upon more magic, to try and resuscitate him.

"You are not allowed to die on me! Remember your oath, damn you!"

He shouts, and resists the urge to shake the other's body, and magic doesn't come to him, the familiar warmth followed by the chill of his magic settling over him. He has tapped himself out, after the last half an hour of weaving magic.

"You cannot die on me! You will not die on me!"

He holds the other's body, closing his eyes, but he would not pray. Prayer to the forces of Avernus would likely forfeit his soul and Corvus'.

"Ariortos...I am here. I... where are you? I cannot... please, tell me you are still with me. Tell me I didn't awaken for nothing..."

A wave of relief washes over him, and he checks his friend for a pulse, even pressing his ear against the other's chest...Nothing, no heartbeat...But how was that possible? How did Corvus still live and breathe?

"I am here. I...I was not sure that you would pull through. But...Your heartbeat...You have no pulse, this...This should not be possible and yet it is."

He would likely try to study the effects of the fortified potion later, but for now he simply holds the other's hand.

"Rest. There will be time for talk later. You have been through something incredibly draining."

Several minutes without breathing...Corvus should at least be unconscious, if not have brain damage from the lack of oxygen to the brain...Yet his chest rises and falls, he's weakened right now, but he still lives."

"I was afraid, that you would...That you would not return to me. I am relieved to see that you have kept your oath. But for the time being, you will rest, that means no work at all. And I would like it if you stayed over, so that I can monitor you. You can stay in my room."

Had he been looking at his friend, perhaps he might've seen the ghost of a smile on the other's face. Corvus simply tightens his grip on Ariortos' hand, rubbing his thumb across the gloved knuckles.

"Of course darling...I'd be more than happy to let you take care of me for a while. It'll be just like our time in the academy, after my duels."

Ariortos sighs, but his lips curl into a smile.

"Thank you...to whatever god watched over him. Continue to keep him safe, I do not know what I would do without him."

[offrozenmemoirs]

The tiefling wears a very unamused and disappointed expression. His glasses are removed and he rests his head in his hands. Why, oh why does he have to deal with such childish behavior from people?

"I am not encouraging this behavior, Lady Doscedar. It is bad enough I have to deal with it from Nelia."

@offrozenmemoirs / x

Maisie purses her lips, the delight in her eyes undeniable. She waves her hand as if casting a spell, suggesting, "How about this one: 'Salutations, bone lord?'" She raises her hand, smiling, as if offering an even better alternative.