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“Not at all. Please, ask any questions you might have. I’m happy to answer them. Yes, I am a healer; I’m a graduate of UMED.” I gave her a shy smile. “I must admit, the scholar in me is looking forward to learning more about daemon magick and how I might be able to use materials from The Dominion to modify spells and potions for the better.”
In my time here I had already come across several plants and minerals that I had never seen or heard of before. I had been wishing I had more time to learn about these materials and see if there was a way I could use them in my own healing practice. It was an opportunity of a lifetime for any healer. I was excited that this seemed to be the opportunity to do just that.
Balveria beamed at this. “Well then, this is an exciting day. I am very interested to see what good might come out of your visit to the House of Knowledge.”
Balveria led me out of the throne room and down the hall that was filled with epic paintings depicting wars and battles past. I paused several times to take in pieces that caught my eye.
“Is that you?” I asked, pointing to one that showed a daemon who looked very much like Balveria seated atop a sand drake, brandishing a battle axe in full restructium armor. She looked fierce and was surrounded by fire and carnage. Looking at the petite, curvy little daemon next to me, it was quite the shock to see her depicted as a warrior princess. Balveria grinned.
“Yes. That is I.” She said, her eyes twinkling, and I suddenly understood why Sirocco and her sons seemed so wary of crossing this seemingly demure female. If this painting was anything to go by, she was not one to be trifled with.
We continued walking and came across the portrait of the young smiling girl with flowers blooming from her palms. She laughed as butterflies tickled her nose, and she was surrounded by a bright, budding landscape full of life.
I had not missed the way Darianth had glared at Dossidian when we had passed this portrait earlier, and I was curious who this young, smiling female was, so proudly displayed among contrasting scenes of chaos and destruction.
“Who is this?” I asked, hoping that I was not overstepping my bounds. Balveria stopped next to me, looking up at the portrait. Devastation and sadness was written clearly across her face and her eyes became glassy with tears.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t need to tell me if it’s personal.” I said softly, laying a hand on her arm. Balveria glanced at me, and gave me a small sad smile.
“It’s okay. Unlike my sons and my mate, I do not run from the past. It helps to talk about it. She deserves to be remembered.”
I had a feeling the girl in the portrait was no longer with us, but to have it confirmed struck a chord deep in my chest. She looked so happy and full of life in the painting, it saddened me to learn she was no longer with us.
“This is Sirroah. My daughter, and my youngest. She passed away in an accident nearly four hundred years ago.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Dossidian has never mentioned her.” I said feeling taken aback.
Balveria linked her arm through mine and led me away, her expression darkening further.
“I don’t imagine that he would. Dossidian harbors a great deal of guilt regarding Sirroah’s death, though he shouldn’t. It was an accident, and if anyone is responsible, the blame should lie with Sirocco and I for not being more diligent with his training at a young age. We knew he had inherited my gifts but we did not know how much stronger they had manifested within him until it was too late.”
I did my best to school my expression and not let my shock show. The way she was speaking, it sounded like Dossidian was responsible for the death of his sister. Not wanting to interrupt, I remained silent and allowed Balveria to continue. She looked at me, pursing her lips.
“Dossidian’s powers are very difficult to control, and they are highly in tune with his emotions. He has worked very hard to get a firm handle on both his feelings and his powers since Sirroah’s death. My powers come from a place of fire, but I am able to control how much of my power I use when I need it. Dossidian’s powers are so wild, that even opening the floodgates a small amount, can result in a massive explosion. Every time he uses his magick, it is a risk.”
I frowned at this. “I have noticed he does not use his powers often, but I thought that daemons, especially powerful ones, needed to expand their energy regularly or risk being consumed?”
Balveria nodded. “That is true. Dossidian typically travels twice a month, alone, to the Viridian Desert to release his power in a safe, deserted space. He never comes to visit us when he does. I try not to take it personally. I know it is because there are too many painful memories here… Sirroah’s death is why he left to serve Aleites’ guard in the first place, after all.”
Balveria led me through a long passageway with arched windows facing out into Fury’s Point. I could see the Obsidian Sea sparkling in the distance, and I wondered if Raven was on one of the tiny ships that were heading out to sea.
“Darianth never makes him feel welcome here, either.” Balveria continued grimly. “He has never forgiven Dossidian for killing Sirroah, despite knowing it was an accident.”
“What about Balthion? He seems to harbor no ill will toward Dossidian.” I observed. Balthion had been lovely and welcoming.
“Balthion was Sirroah’s twin. Her death destroyed him. We hoped he would recover in time but after several years without improvement, he begged us to wipe her from his memory.”
I gaped at her. “Wipe her from his memory? How?”
“There is a flower that grows in the Viridian Desert called Memorithorn. It can only be found here and is very rare. However, if steeped in tea, it is possible to use it to manipulate and selectively remove memories. It is tricky, as drinking too much may wipe your mind clean. But in small amounts you can remove people, places or things from the mind of the user.”
This disturbed me to my core. Memory manipulation magick was highly regulated in the magick folk community. It was only ever used with the explicit permission of the recipient of the spell and memory spells were only taught to the Sorcerer General upon their coronation. Even sanctioned memory magick was controversial, and many magick folk refused to partake in board meetings in which it might be used.
When we had petitioned The Board for a forgotten vote to bid for the use of the Lens, many members of the congregation had flat out refused to participate. The fact that daemons had access to a plant that could manipulate memory was extremely concerning and could easily be used against us in the upcoming war. Memorithorn. I filed that away for further investigation. I would need to learn how this memory banishing tea was made, and if there was an antidote, so I could ensure my healer’s kit was stocked appropriately.
“Princess Balveria, I am so sorry for what you and your family have gone through. I must ask, why are you sharing all of this with me?” I had a distinct feeling that she wasn’t just telling me these things to get them off her chest. It felt like she was hoping I would do some good with this knowledge. I couldn’t for the life of me think of how I could help. I was a powerful healer, but even I couldn’t bring back the dead.
“I know my son, Meredith Abbey. He is avoiding you as oil avoids water, and there can only be one reason for that.” She said, leading down a set of stairs and through a large white, echoing ballroom. At the end of the ballroom were two towering red doors that reached nearly eleven feet tall.
