On Top of the World! {Ayvajin}

[Mjollnir]

So she had been a young, talented necromancer, like him. Strange… That the two of them, two rare cases, would meet. He nodded and did all the appropriate gestures in response to Ayvajin’s story, and he remained quiet and still when she came to the point in her story that contained her mentor. For a necromancer… It was very hard subject. If your mentor was worth anything as a necromancer, they would pass on their powers to their student… Thus passing over to the other side. It was customary that student would then guide their master to the Sancturary to show… Respect or some such hogwash as that. The real reason that any student did it was because a mentor was more than someone who taught. A mentor was, essentially, the student’s family, and no one wanted anything bad to happen to any member of their family.

It was odd though… The name… Rion… His own teacher had spoken of him. And if Theara had known him, Rion was old indeed. Mjollnir didn’t ask any questions for awhile after Ayvajin had finished her story. There really wasn’t much to be said after all. When anyone who had lived as long as either of them chose to reminisce, it was difficult for both the listener and teller. Instead, Mjollnir allowed the trickling of the creek and the cracking of the fire to fill the silence. Socrates began to clean himself, meditating on the information that Ayvajin had just supplied them.

The first thing that was said after the recap was, “Wel… I think the fish is done.” Mjollnir broke the fish into pieces and handed some to Ayvajin, “Thank you for sharing… If I were somewhere within my right mind, I’d be more than happy to tell you of my own earlier days… For now, I’ll tell you that you and I are much more alike that I would have thought initially.” He smiled and settled down to eating his fish.

The forest’s eeriness hadn’t lessened a bit, but the building of bonds always left one feeling warm and comforted regardless of one’s surroundings. There was no use in fretting over the shades any longer. If something was going to happen, it was going to happen and there wasn’t anything that anyone could do about it. Mjollnir looked up at the stars again and squinted. The sky was becoming much harder to see. Taking another bite of fish, he motioned towards Ayvajin, “It’s getting foggier…”

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[Ayvajin]

Happily, Ayvajin had taken the fish from Mjollnir. She ate in silence as was normal for her. Silent eating allowed her time to think. Now that her mind was swirling with thoughts of the past, she definitely needed that time. She would not make it awkward for the other necromancer by speaking allowed about past adventures. It was harder for listeners to find memories of someone who they had just met as humorous or as joyful as the memories really were.

The female necromancer followed the motion of Mjollnir. Her eyes looked upward at the sky, and she too noted the fog. Well, this was not truly fog. Fog tended to come at dawn and dusk in the woods. There were rare occasions when fog lasted throughout the day, but this was not to be one of those rare occasions (mainly because night had fallen).

“This would not be fog,” Ayvajin said, her voice low. “This would be something much more unpleasant and much darker. I would suggest holding strong to your will, Mjollnir. When the sky becomes darker than the night, this is usually not a good sign.”

She sat up a bit, but she however did not lose her casual, relaxed state. Her eyes wandered around the surround woods as she took another bite of her fish. How she would much prefer a foe that she could see. Truly, the only aspect of the shades that she could fear was their true absence of form. If they were solid instead of a gaseous state, Ayvajin would feel completely at ease. It was easier to put a blade through a chimera than a blade through a fog.

“If they have no true power, they are quite good at bluffing,” she commented with a slight laugh as she tried to lighten up the surroundings. “The wait for something to happen is terrible. It makes me prefer to take on a hundred angry dragons than to sit here and wait for what is to happen.”

[Mjollnir]

Mjollnir supplied some nervous laughter, “B-bluffing! Haha… Yes… They’re… V-very good at it.” Socrates looked up at Mjollnir, his hair standing on end. “Eh? W-what is it, Socrates? Socrates… Socks. Socks and teas.” Mjollnir began to giggle. His hands covered up his mouth and the giggles stopped. Looking around slowly he whispered to Ayvajin, “I think… They’re here…” Mjollnir’s head twitched slightly. This was an unusual feeling… He’d had spirits try to posses him before… But this was a little different.

There were voices in his head… Loud ones, quiet ones, and then there were the dangerous ones… The ones that spoke reason. His head was normally full of voices, but these were different. They were telling him things… Making him feel lots of emotions that he had long set behind them. Surprisingly there wasn’t anger. It was just… Confusing. He was having a hard time controlling himself.

“Mjollnir has succumbed to the shades, though it would seem he is far from dangerous. What should be done, Maiden?” Socrates felt nothing. Nothing but an intense evil within the near vicinity. As a cat who thought like a human, he hadn’t been certain what would happen, but it seemed that the shades didn’t affect him. Socrates looked around the campground. Within the few moments that succeeded their initial notice of the mist, the floor of the forest was now no longer visible. The fire had gone out and the smell of anger and fear was in the air.

“Beeswax, rutabaga, polish! Polish? Squash and beans. Green and blue, with little flowers… Hogwash.” Mjollnir had his hands holding his head tight and was mumbling into nothingness. Though he seemed much more insane now than he did before, he was spouting off random words too keep himself from being possessed. For those who had weak wills, the best way to avoid being possessed was to confuse the entity trying to do the possession.

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[Ayvajin]

Ayvajin was quickly on her feet. She had never been confronted with the dark mists so strongly. They had never been this thick, well to her knowledge they had never been. Most were very fleeting. Most were just a thin layer of mist. This was a behemoth phantom. This was something overwhelming to the senses.

The female necromancer was lucky to have such strength over her mind. She had no fear of the mist possessing her. She had dealt with dark spirits who had tried on many occasions to possess her after an exorcism. She would definitely not allow this entity to take over her mind and body.

“This being must have a weakness. All beings do,” Ayvajin said, her mind moving quickly. In all honestly, she had no idea how to handle this creature if that was what it was. She knew, however, that everything in the world did have a weakness. Even the strongest beings succumbed to something.

Her hands worked quickly in the air in front of her. Voice low, a chant in the Language of the Dead flowed effortlessly from Ayvajin’s mouth. She had decided to try a bit of white magick upon the dark mist. It was an evil that used dark magicks, perhaps a bit of white magick would push the entity back. Ayvajin only hoped. She knew that the higher white magick spells were harder for her to wield, but it never hurt to try.

White energy flowed from the necromancer’s hands. There was a pause that was almost unnerving. For a long moment the energy was hidden before suddenly the white light return in full, completely feeling the clearing which the three stood in. The dark mist parted for a moment as if Ayvajin had been wielding a weapon and swinging it around wildly. The shades seemed to float backward, completely hiding the surrounding woods from the three. At least there was a moment to breath.

Ayvajin let out a long breath, but her body was still tense. The evil still hung greatly in the air. The black mists seemed to be waiting for another attack. The holy spell had perhaps done partial damage. There had to be a way to destroy this entity. Even the mighty djinn could fall victim to being stuck in a jar. Perhaps the same idea could be what brings this phantom down.

“It is growing stronger,” the female necromancer said with a soft sigh as she looked at her comrades. “It will not be long before it tries to possess us once more. It seems like no attack will be strong enough to completely disperse this mist. Maybe there is a way to trap this being.”

[Mjollnir]

Stronger? That wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear. Mjollnir stood up, shrugging of the invisible shackles that had attached themselves to his mind, “Necromancy… Have you tried it? Can they be… Controlled or reasoned with?” The white magick had temporarily rid him of the possession… He had time to try to see if he could bond his electricity with the fog. He raised his hands and began to chant in the Language of the Dead, complicated syllables effortlessly flowing from his mouth.

The air became charged with the feeling of lightning, and there were small sparks shooting off of Mjollnir’s fingers. As he neared the end of the chant, he aimed his hands towards one of the darkest spots and finished the last word. Bright lightning glowed around his fingers, and the spot he had been aiming at glowed the same. So far… It looked like a ghost. The bonding of the lighting to the shades was working… And then it wasn’t.

He fell to the ground, breathing heavily, “That was irrational and stupid… On the bright side, I seemed to have regained some of my mental functioning abilities…” He stood up, regaining some control of his breathing. He was running out of time… He could feel the shades getting ready for another foray into his mind, “Trap it… You could try to use wind magic… It might move the mist… Or… If there were more magicians here we could try to trap it, or ourselves in a cage of light… I saw a wizard do it once… Very interesting… Erg…”

And they were back. Telling him things he really rather not want to know… It was getting a bit unbearable. He began to hum an old song his teacher had taught him. The words were long forgotten, but the humming helped. Socrates, obscured in the mist, spoke up at Ayvajin, “Mjollnir is not going to be useful in this dilemma, and this cat cannot use the magick spells that thou can. Still… This cat thinks that trapping them is the only option. They will not leave…”

The lightning magic hadn’t worked… If anything it had charged up whatever the shades were. Wonderful.

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[Ayvajin]

“We need a container,” Ayvajin said, half to herself. Her icy eyes flashed around in the darkness as she searched for something. “We do not have enough magick to contain such a being, especially of Mjollnir is unable to help us.”

The black mist whirled around them. The female necromancer could feel the mist wrap around her legs and then around her torso. The being enveloped her body as it tried to possess her as well. Ayvajin did not enjoy this feeling at all and instead of standing in one place she started to pace about the clearing. She needed to figure out something fast if they were to get out of this situation.

Ayvajin’s hands quickly searched her body as if she was trying to find something she had lost. The canteen. Using the canteen could possibly trap the mist. Luckily, this being was not a solid nor a liquid. The entity was more of a gaseous substance and perhaps all of it or at least part of it could be pushed into the canteen.

“I am going to try and trap it,” Ayvajin said as she took her canteen from her hip and opened it. She quickly poured out the water of the canteen. She placed the container at her feet, propping it up against her.

The necromancer quickly got to work with her wind spell. Another spell said in the Language of the Dead rolled off her tongue quickly and soon a tornado spell hovered over the clearing. The mist was whirled up into the cyclone. Moonlight filled the clearing, but the world was not peaceful quite yet. The sound of the wind filled the air.

“Someone needs to hold the canteen,” Avyajin cried out as her hands did their best to contain the tornado spell and keep the mist within the wind’s grasp.

[Mjollnir]

The wind spell was working wonders. The voices were leaving his head, but he was still incapacitated. His humming had become a single note that he held onto like a life line. This was so much more difficult than he was used to. Mjollnir was on the ground, his hands cradling his face as his humming continued. Just because the mist was in a single spot, it’s abilities were still very potent.

Socrates leaped up over the ashes of the fire and grabbed the canteen in his mouth, making sure not to puncture it with his sharp teeth. There really wasn’t anything else to say. Mjollnir was completely useless. Ayvajin was focused completely on keeping her magic under control. The whirlwind was containing the mist for now…

All around the forest still seemed dead quiet, despite the fact that the wind magick had created quite a ruckus.

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[Ayvajin]

Ayvajin saw Socrates out of the corner of her eye as he picked up the canteen. She was hoping the undead cat could keep hold of the canteen as the female necromancer forced the mist into the container with her wind spell.

Her hands continued to keep the tornado spell managed as she slowly angled the spell in the direction of the canteen. Another chant came from Ayvajin as the tornado turned into a gust of wind as she caused the mist to forcefully enter the container. She was careful on how much force was being forced on the canteen and onto Socrates who held the canteen.

The wind started to flow into the canteen. The sound of the air rushing into the container was loud, but the clearing was starting to quiet down as the tornado disappeared. As the wind decreased, Ayvajin managed to keep the spell in control by one hand as the other grabbed hold of the lid to the canteen. As the last of the air and the mist flowed into the canteen, the female necromancer was quick to close of the opening.

Ayvajin could not help but to fall to her knees as the spell completely faded. She let out a huff of air. Her body was slowly giving over to exhaustion. Who would have expected that handling a tornado would be such work.

[Mjollnir]

“Well, that was interesting.” Mjollnir stood up, looking down at the container on the ground, “I can’t decide whether it’s better to take it with us or to… Do something else with it.” The strength of the shade was much less than before, but the presence of the voices were still inside his head. That meant that the container wasn’t going to hold the mist indefinitely. That was bad.

“The Maiden succeeded in a temporary solution until there is a more permanent one.” Socrates was sitting by the container, occasionally batting at it. His jaw was a little sore and he was certain that one of his teeth had been ripped loose. It was a small price to pay in the long one. Besides, thanks to his undead status, Mjollnir could just make him a new one. The thing that was disturbing was how powerful the mist was. The wind magick had stopped it for now. But… It was only a matter of time.

“I know, I know, Socrates… We’ll have to seal it with holy magic, I think.” Mjollnir helped Ayvajin up to her feet and smiled at her, “Quite an impressive display of magickal prowess! Good show!” He laughed a little bit. It felt good to relax after the invasion of his mind. Well… Technically the invaders were still there, but they were much less annoying. And the dangerous one were all but quiet. He slowly bent over to pick up the canteen, but drew back his hand with a small gasp of pain.

“It’s not good… It won’t let me touch it… Ugh, my head.” He hated having more than the usual voices in his head. When he had touched the canteen, his mind was filled with screaming and anger. Not a pleasant feeling to be sure. “I don’t know what we can do… Ayvajin. You have the ability to use white magicks, but I doubt it’s enough… I can’t use anything other than lighting magicks so I’m useless.. And Socrates can’t use magicks at all.” He bit his lower lip in thought. What was there to do now? If they just let the canteen be… The shades would escape, and Mjollnir was certain they wouldn’t be captured again as easily.

“A band of mismatched heros.” Socrates couldn’t have put it any better. They’d caught the shades but- Mjollnir’s eyes widened and he looked at Ayvajin, “This isn’t all of them, is it? There’s more… You don’t think that they can communicate telepathically do you? Because if they can… We’re in trouble.” If other shades had been alerted – assuming there were others – then they’d just poked the hornet’s nest.

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[Ayvajin]

“There are more; I am sure of it,” Ayvajin responded before taking a breath. There was no doubt in her mind that there were more shades wandering around. Though this was a great deal of mist that they had just captured, there had to be more.

The female necromancer ran her hand through her hair and took another breath. She was still regaining herself from what had just happened. Her energy seemed to have diminished. There was no time to be weak, though. She had to pull herself back together and come up with a solution for their problem.

“The material of that canteen will not hold the mist for long, yes,” she agreed. “We will need something sturdier to hold the entity. This evil must be contained.”

Ayvajin took another breath, her mind racing. She paced about the clearing a bit as her thoughts went back and forth. There had to be a solution, and it had to be thought up quickly. There was no telling how long the black mist would stay imprisoned in the canteen.

“We must get to Avalast. There are containers made out of gems and diamonds there. Those would be sturdier than the flimsy material of the canteen. If diamond cannot hold the mists, well, this being is much stronger than what we thought. We must see, though.”

Perhaps it was a long shot. But what other solution was there? They would have to travel through the night to Avalast. It had to be done. This was gravely more important than any other matter at hand. Ayvajin would go to complete exhaustion if she had to just to contain the mist.

“I will keep it sealed in the canteen while we travel to the city with what energy I have left. But we must travel quickly if we are to do this.”

[Mjollnir]

“Right.” Mjollnir nodded. It was absolutely crucial that they didn’t let the mist escape, but it was just as important that it wasn’t exposed to the population of Avalast. “In order to keep the mist from contaminating the minds of the citizens, I’ll have to enter the city alone and purchase the diamond. We can’t risk getting to close to such a large population with this much mist in tow.”

Socrates mewed and pawed at the canteen, “And what of this? Can the Maiden bear the demon’s screams? Even this cat cannot handle the concentrated strength of the mists.” Drat. What could carry the stupid thing? It was too dangerous to try to summon a skeleton or zombie to carry it. Those things had such weak wills that it was often too difficult to keep them from attacking willy-nilly.

Having Ayvajin transport the canteen via wing magick wasn’t an option either. She was far to exhausted to achieve such a feat as that. Walking and magick didn’t mix well… And walking with haste while weaving intermediate magick was much worse. Mjoller glared at the canteen, “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t… Know!” The situation was stressful. And the stupid voices weren’t helping him at all.

He looked down at his hands, hoping to find some solution. It only affected him when he placed his skin onto the canteen… His skin… Mjollnir let loose a short chuckle, “Let’s see if this works…” He put his gloves back on, why he removed them he couldn’t remember right then, and carefully grasped the container. The voices were loud, but bearable enough. “Got it… Got it…” His head twitched, but other than that he was in complete control. It appeared that the saying “whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” has some bit of truth in it.

Socrates nodded at Ayvajin and Mjollnir gritted his teeth in-between words, “And… We’re… Off…”

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[Ayvajin]

And then they were on their way. Throughout their journey in the darkness, Ayvajin kept a wary eye upon Mjollnir and the canteen. She knew how much the mist was troubling the male necromancer. She suspected it kept troubling Mjollnir with taunts. Perhaps the mist was also trying to get him to open the canteen and let it out.

Ayvajin felt guilty for not being able to really help the other necromancer with the burden of the black mist. So, she tried to help in little ways. They traveled by her illumination spell. She was very grateful for knowing basic magick. Basic magick did not starve her of her energy as bad as the stronger magicks. She had decided, however, that after this journey that she would definitely need some time to relax.

Avalast was a good few hours away from where they had been. By the time they started to near the city, dawn was but a few hours away. The time of night was not what bothered the travelers; what bothered them was the few hours they had spent with the canteen containing the mist.

Ayvajin was grateful to see the gates of Avalast when they finally reached the entrance. The tired necromancer even smiled a bit. Soon the black mist would be contained in a much stronger prison.

“Here we are,” the female necromancer said as they finally topped. She dispelled her illumination spell. There was no need for her to light the way anymore. Torches were burning brightly at the gates of the city. “You should allow me to have the canteen, now, Mjollnir.”

She faced Mjollnir and took the canteen carefully from his hands. Ayvajin quickly covered the container with a thick layer of ice which was not as effortless as it should have been. Instead, Ayvajin found herself settling on the ground, unable to stand. She settled there were her body had forced her to sit down. Her arms wrapped tightly around the ice covered canteen.

“I will wait here,” she said, her voice soft. “I will make sure the evil within this canteen stays put.”

[Mjollnir]

When Ayvajin removed the container from him, Mjollnir let out a gasp of relief. It was one thing to have held the mist… It was another to have walked with if for a few hours with nothing but a tired necromancer and a cat for company. He found himself panting slightly. It would appear that the trek had taken more out of him than he had intended. “Ayvajin. Stay sharp… The mist absorbs magickal energy… Don’t do anything more than you have to.”

He knew that she already knew what he had just said, but sometimes it helped to reinforce a notion with the spoken word. He didn’t waste anymore time. He turned and ran into the city, making sure to avoid the more crowded areas. Ayvajin was not looking well, and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if her strength gave out. Rounding a corner, he spotted a stand that was selling cheap gems. No good, Mjollnir couldn’t risk being cheated at the moment.

Where was it? He knew there was a shop here that sold just was he was looking for… They were expensive, but they were effective. Left, right? Which way was the darn thing? Mjollnir’s head was swimming with confusing thoughts and ideas. He was running out of time. Down one alley, up another and… There it was! Or at least… There was one like it. Some of the gems were reasonable, and then there were the ones that cost a fortune. Mjollnir charged into the shop, careful enough not to break anything but fast enough to cause quite a bit of noise.

He didn’t say a word as he picked up a diamond containment gem with a magickally sealed stopper. He rushed up to the shopkeeper and asked him breathlessly, “How much?” The man looked at him rather quizzically. The motions he made were terribly slow as he opened the store’s manuscript to check the gem’s price, “It’s… A hundred gold pieces.” The man raised his eyebrows, “Do you have that much, sir?”

Mjollnir gritted his teeth and tried to control the temper that was quickly rising, “But I have this, and I know it’s worth around the same amount as this gem.” Mjollnir drew out an odd looking herb and set it on the table. Oh how he hated stores. They wanted money… And he never had money. This certain herb… Deathroot… It was some of the most difficult stuff to get. In truth, it was worth much more than a measly hundred gold pieces, and he could tell the shopkeeper knew that. Still, he didn’t object and pocketed the root, “Splendid! Enjoy your purchase-”

Mjollnir was gone long before the man could finish. Back through the streets and around the corners once more. Time was not his friend at the moment. There was a stall as he was exiting… Wonderful. He stopped, and quickly pulled some silver pieces out of his pocket and slammed them on the table. He grabbed several potions and ran off once more, overpaying for the second time. If the shades escaped, he was going to regret this horribly.

Out of the gate and down the path a bit… “I have it. Drink these. Hurry…” Out of breath he set the potions down by her side. They were magickal amplifiers and restoratives to help her quickly regain enough strength to seal the mist again. Mjollnir was shaking as he held up the gem, “I’ll help you as much as I can… I should be able to siphon my strength to you with some old necromancer’s spells I learned awhile ago…” This was it.

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[Ayvajin]

Ayvajin quickly did as Mjollnir instructed. She knew of the potions he had given her. She was quick to open up the bottles and drink the potions. The effects of the potions would be temporary, but the female necromancer was quite glad to get a bit of energy back. She just hoped that it would be enough to transfer the mist into the stronger container.

The ice melted from the canteen by Ayvajin’s will. As she took away the ice spell, she was trying to decide how exactly she wanted to transfer the mist over to the other container. Whatever was chosen for the transfer, they would have to be very careful. If this amount of mist got loose, Avalast would be infected with this evil.

“I am going to use a wind tunnel. The tornado worked rather effectively earlier.” Ayvajin quickly began to weave a wind tunnel in the air with her hand. “Just be ready to cap the container, Mjollnir.”

The female necromancer moved the canteen and the diamond container close together. Her small wind tunnel connected the lids of both containers. With a quick movement, Ayvajin opened the canteen and at the same time the wind’s speed drastically sped up. The black mist was now being forcefully pushed into the diamond container. Ayvajin kept the wind going with her new found energy, and soon the canteen was empty. The mist had completely entered the other container.

[Mjollnir]

Mjollnir quickly stopped the gem and gave a sigh of relief. The diamond had turned a sickly dark green color… A symbol of evil. Thankfully, it was much more secure. He couldn’t hear the voices at all now. He grinned at Ayvajin, “Looks like this investment was worth the cost.” He held the container close up to his eyes and peered into it. The gem looked much more like a rotting rock. Disgusting.

He checked Ayvajin to make sure she was all right, apart from her overuse of magick, she appeared all right. He slowly sat upon the ground, the gem still in his hands, “That was close… I could feel it while I was in the city.” Shaking his head he set the gem on the ground between the three of them, “Quick thinking, Ayvajin.” Socrates moved up to examine the gem, pawing at it without his claws out.

“To think such a large amount of mist could fit in such small a gem.” The cat yawned and stretched before laying down beside it. It looked so improbable that all the mist fit into the small gem, but it wasn’t anywhere near unlikely. It was probable that they could have fit even more in, maybe double the amount. Still, it was a feat that Mjollnir didn’t want to repeat. He was mentally exhausted, and having siphoned plenty of magickal energy to Ayvajin wasn’t doing anything for his state.

“At least the city didn’t get infected.” They would have a whole separate problem if the mist had overtaken the city. Come to think of it… There had been plenty of mist to cover the entire city, and then some. “You don’t think this was a premeditated attack, do you?” Now that would be interesting. The shades coordinating their strikes… It would make them much more dangerous.

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[Ayvajin]

“I am not sure,” Ayvajin said before taking a slow breath. “I do not have the mind to think of such things right now. My energy has been taken from me. I do not even have enough energy to think.”

The female necromancer gave a laugh before laying down upon the ground. She placed a hand over her eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness of her palm. She pulled her fingers through her hair, pulling the loose strands away from her face. Exhaustion had finally set upon Ayvajin and it was difficult to not completely succumb to the fatigue.

“We should find a place to lay our heads in Avalast,” she said with a yawn, her arm moving over to shield her eyes. “I sadly lack strength.”

Now this was a real predicament. Ayvajin had used all of her strength this night and getting up and walking in the city would be an impossible chore. The female necromancer was ready to settle on sleeping out in the elements if she had to. She needed to regain her strength. She was somewhat unhappy that she had spent all of her energy, but it had been necessary for the safety of everyone else. The sacrifice was well worth it.

[Mjollnir]

As tired as he was, Mjollnir wasn’t about to let the female sleep outdoors when a comfy bed was just a few yards away, “Well! You may be content to sleep upon the ground, but I find it much more supplementary to my health to rest my bones upon a proper bed!” He smiled and slowly stood up. Physical exertion was rather difficult at the moment. Still, he wanted to repay the kindness that Ayvajin had done him (the traveling, of course) and leaned over her with a silly grin upon his face.

“For tonight, and tonight only, I shall escort you via my back.” Socrates, who had been curled up near the gem, looked up at Mjollnir and mewed with what sounded like bemusement, of course, it was very difficult to tell as cats are rather stoic creatures. The little cat picked up the diamond in his mouth and sat there, watching Mjollnir with his green knowing eyes. Apparently, the cat didn’t want to miss a moment of what was about to ensue.

Mjollnir looked at the cat and tisked at him. “Really, Socrates! You have absolutely no faith in me.” The cat simply stared back at him. From the cat’s perspective, he was grinning. Though, as it was mentioned before, it is a fine art to ascertain what a cat is feeling. This particular feline simply looked bored and that only caused Mjollnir to stick his tongue out at the feline, “You don’t think I can do it, do you? Well!” He smiled down at Ayvajin, “She’s small enough that it shouldn’t be a problem. Now, let’s get to an inn so that I can sleep off this weariness that those blasted shades have so graciously given me.”

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[Ayvajin]

Ayvajin slowly sat up from where she had laid down upon the ground. She did not want to be a burden to Mjollnir in the least bit. She could force herself onto her feet if she must. There was no reason to allow the other necromancer to pick her up and carry her off to an inn.

“No, I will muster up some strength,” the female necromancer said quickly. “I do not want to be a burden to you, Mjollnir.” Ayvajin sent him a smile as she tried to gain as much strength as she could. She knew that she would feel guilty for allowing Mjollnir to take her into town.

As much guilt as she would feel could not, however, force her strength back into her muscles. She struggled to push herself into a straighter seating position.