Salen was not one of Brazim’s chosen by choice, as he said. Arkash furrowed his brow; he didn’t know how the Corvo were made, but if it was anything akin to how Dranoch were made, then that made sense. “You’d be surprised,” he said in response. Some would love to take on the blessing of a Blight. Arkash, despite knowing the suffering of a Botchling for a year, would have willingly taken on the blood if it was his choice.
Even though Salen complained of his tiresome questions while Arkash held his throat, the Rath let him go and rolled his claws in the dark of that bedroom.
On the subject of Salen’s pursuers, What would you do? Asked the human, somewhat sarcastic in his delivery.
“Eat them,” Arkash answered bluntly.
He smiled a curl of his lips as he continued, wicked, burning teeth on display. “I’m in the business of making problems disappear. If that which ails you meets my criteria, I’ll even do it for free.”
Arkash had offered that service to a great number of people; there were many in the lower classes that had been wronged and scorned by people of power, people of power who met their dues in his jaws. As a result, Arkash quickly evolved in his Blight.
“My word?” He asked, uncertain. “Tell me more first, then I’ll decide.” Too many times had Arkash’s word been used against him, the most recent of which involved the complete loss of his magic. From then on, he would look before he leaped.
So came the story of how Salen knew Degare, and an explanation of the suspicious circumstances that surrounded his mention. Arkash furrowed his brow; hadn’t Averre been gone for some time? The press of his brows yielded when his eyes widened, and he briefly looked in shock before he stifled the tempest of emotion that brewed within. The human’s expression shifted in a way that almost mirrored his emotional turmoil. “I see,” Arkash began. “That’s unfortunate… Please send him my Regards if you see him soon.”
Dahlia, her name was. Arkash had briefly confused it with Daria, but such went unnoticed by the human, or so it seemed. So, he rolled with the correction. He nodded along to Salen’s explanation… Right up until he mentioned Degare’s mark. His blood magic? Did Salen know Degare was a Blood Mage?
“Right… Remnomancy, the mark that allows the manipulation of dreams and memories. I’m familiar,” he spoke with a nod. Indeed, Vesper was a wielder, the feline he’d met and given the eight-pointed star. Dahlia did sound like something of a problem, but was she perhaps an ordinary scheming noble? “Why is she after you? What has she done to earn your ire?” The questions continued.
“Oh, and what do you mean by Degare's Mark?” He asked with a furrow of his brow. “…Which one?” Arkash asked innocently. “Lord Socorro has more than one, I’m just not sure which one could get him executed.”
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