A very elderly magic user has gotten a bit senile. Their grandchild begs Wraithvine to limit how much magic the elder can use so they're no longer a danger to themselves or others. -- Anon Guest
It's never nice to see a loved one fall to pieces. Watching Odasorin the Wonderous become lost in time and thereafter coming apart had not been something Aqirax had been willing to acknowledge until it got dangerous. After all, he loved his grandren[1]. And in cases of love, even the painfully obvious can be ignored.
"It's over," said Aqirax, having fired off another counterspell against Odasorin. "We won. They're gone. See?"
There was no army outside hir windows. There were no forces gathering outside hir tower. There hadn't been any armies threatening Odasorin since ze had turned seventy-five. Alas, hir anger at otherwise ordinary mistakes sparked memories of old threats.
It was getting beyond obvious. So obvious that Aqirax had called for the world's best expert. Wraithvine the Eternal. Who came with a teapot.
It was shaped like an amusing fish, which made Odasorin laugh so much ze nearly fell down. "Ah, it's so nice to have friends come for tea," ze said. "Come, come. Sit by the fires. Relax. Didre will put the tea on for us."
Didre, Odasorin's maid, had been dead for twenty years. Aqirax just happened to look like her.
Wraithvine snuck Aqirax a pouch of herbs. "Brew this, but do not drink. I shall pretend to sip."
Oh. So this was how his grandren was going to be quelled. Betrayed in good nature by friendship and tea. For hir own good, and by the only friend ze recognised because the immortal Elf hadn't aged in millennia.
The tea smelled of soft autumn evenings and cozy sunsets. It put Aqirax to mind of sleepy, stormy days when nothing was expected and that was the enjoyable outcome.
Odasorin the Wonderous drank deeply, and hir aura faded as a result. Ze had an ironic moment of clarity when ze was down to one quarter of hir first cup. "So. It's come to that, has it? The tea of the quieted mind?"
"You tried to fireball the mail carrier," said Wraithvine. "Of course I came as soon as I could."
"There's no-one else I'd trust to do it," Odasorin let some tears fall, and fell once more into hir clouded memories. "Who's gone? Who's lost? Why am I crying?"
"It's the end of a long journey," said Wraithvine. "Of course there are tears."
[1] Shorter form of "grand parental" for the gender-neutral crowd.
[Photo by Vero Manrique on Unsplash]
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