Post by Lyall British on Apr 26, 2015 11:26:50 GMT -5
(continued from "The Way Lyall Said Goodbye)
Four days. She had been left alone to recover, to rethink and revive herself for four days. There was Helena and a handful of other servants who worked on his estate. Beyond that, people that seemed more like henchmen and thugs, the men dressed in brown, occasionally showed up. It must have been for transactions that required less finesse. They never brought him items, only money. It could have been the taxes that people paid to live on his land.
There were times she would see him, too, but Alex kept to himself a great deal. He did not eat with the others, drink, or engage with them personally. In the four days she was there he had no callers, no social gatherings and nor did he attend them. It could have been that the sample of the day to day life at the enormous stone manor (or was it a castle? It was decidedly contemporary in design if it was) was unusual and that he was much more engaging, much more sociable, than that.
"The Collector wants ta see you, Alisha." Mr. A. Alex. The Collector. There were a handful of names that were interchangeable that her employer went by. Helena had seen the young woman crying. Lyall had cried, too, and sometimes seemed so distraught and disjointed, talking about strange things that none of them understood but tried to show him sympathy for.
Her payment had not been in money, as expected, but in clothes that weren't cheap because everything had to be handmade. The essentials that she needed, which were clothes that fit her properly,had come from her wages but she was still left with a small handful of coins. In her room was a small combination safe, strangely modern given everything else around her, that was used for her to store money. Helena explained that all the workers here were honest but that money in these times was agreat temptation. Those that worked for Alex knew that when his courier was gone it was more distant than simply being in the other room.
"He's in his room, you know the one." She pointed unnecessarily towards the hall that would lead to the room with the marbel floor. It was where she had first met him and where she had returned to him at the end of her mission.
Four days to wrap her mind around being back where she really didn't want to be. The food was fair and the servants were kind. But the manor and it's lord, were nothing more than shelter from the elements to her. She did not want to be in this place, nor did she want to be anywhere else Alex decided to send her. Well, except for home. She didn't allow herself to think of home very often. To do so would bring an onslaught of tears and enormous pain. Only in the dark of night when she was truly alone did she ever allow herself to slip into that pit of despair. During the day she spent her time being fitted for new clothes and pampered by Helena and the other servants. Pampered might have been a strong word for it, but to Alisha their tokens of kindness and sympathy were balms for her soul.
"I don't want to see him," she replied a bit haughtily and very defiantly. Alisha turned her back to Helena so that she could button up the shirt that she'd put on. Already in breeches, knee high boots and a blouse, the shirt was added for extra protection from the sun. Alisha had known that Alex would be calling for her, so she made sure that she was ready for anything. He was going to toss her into another strange world and she was going to be prepared.
Once the shirt was on, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and tied it off with a thick blue ribbon. Alisha turned and gave Helena an apologetic look. "I really don't want to see him. I'm sorry I snapped at you." She then tucked in her shirt and grabbed her bag of clothes. There was no reason to use the safe, she kept what few coins Alex gave her in her pockets. And with a determined squaring of her shoulders, Alisha headed out of the room and into the long hall. Her footsteps echoed in the dimly lit room and when she put her hand to the wooden door, it creaked open.
"Alex?"
"Afternoon. Have you been able to eat and sleep well?" It was almost exactly like the first time she saw him. He sat at a large table with many papers layered over it. Four candlesticks were lit on the table, brightly brightly and providing him the additional light that the large windows could not pour into him.
Alex's eyes were sharp and dark, like the eyes of a hawk, when he looked at someone. He stood up when she entered, "Come closer-- this mission will be a complicated one. You must go to multiple places and act decisively. I... have concerns for whether or not you succeed." The documentation of what had happened was not written in parts and in others, was too vague for him to be certain.
Alisha waved off the questions regarding her eating and sleeping. She knew that Alex really didn't care if she lived or died. That was more than evident with how the man had reacted to hearing of Lyall's death. She wandered up to the desk and picked up a piece of yellowed parchment. "That's what you said last time," she scoffed. The paper was sat back down onto his desk. She didn't understand the scribbled writing anyway. "But since you have such a lack of faith in my ability, I'll just be going back to my room." Without a glance to him, Alisha turned towards the door and began to walk.
"You'll be thrown out of your room if you don't work." He reminded her, speaking to her back evenly. Then his eyes went down, "I feel that you will be distracted and you will not do the job that I am asking. Partly from your moody little outbursts. Could you focus on the job?" His voice did not become a yell, or spike too high after her spoke. His eyes watched her form as he straightened from where he, took, had been leaned over looking at the documents.
Alisha stopped just as she got to the door. One day she was going to keep on walking. But today was not that day. She was still too new, too green. She had no idea what really lay beyond the boundaries of the manor, and she didn't have the courage of her convictions. What really bothered her was that he knew it. She turned slowly, trying so hard to keep her face as placid as she could. But those storm clouds in her eyes could not be hidden. "Well, if you put me there for a week to get a simple dagger, when all it would have taken was a few hours, then I wouldn't have gotten all caught up in the lives of the people that were in that village," she replied bitterly. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. "All I want is to get in, get out, do the job and get paid. Don't toy with me, Alex."
"I needed to know about the dagger, for one," he said and then sat in his chair, "Also, you must imagine that I am sending you through hundred of thousands of miles through space and time where even a fraction of something being miscalculated would result in you being off by five hundred years. Planets such as that one, at times before space travel, have a history which is hard to coordinate." As if he had had to explain this before and was irritated at doing so. He summarized it, "Suffice it to say, sending you certain places is difficult. I give you time. You could have been a hundred miles away from where the dagger was. You could have instantly been imprisioned for looking different." When she talked about getting in and getting out he looked at her carefully, "Do you think you can manage just getting in and out, this time? I am sending you to Rhy'Din."
There he goes, doing what he does. Berating her as if she were a child and throwing all sorts of numbers and variants at her as if she were two. She sighed and put her hand to her hip and leaned more on one leg than the other. To her, he sounded like the teacher from the Peanut's Gang cartoons. "Waa waa wa waa waaa" And truly, she was already tired of his lecture. She was about to turn back around and walk out when he said the one thing that had her eyes snapping upwards to look into his eyes and her jaw dropping slightly. "Rhy'din?"
"I need you to steal something from Lyall," he said as he looked at her, knowing that the destination would get her attention, "As I said, I feel that this mission is a challenge for you because you will become distracted and you will fail. I understand that you come from Rhy'Din," he lifted a piece of paper from the others and put it on the table, closer to her. Alisha had seemed to forget that Alex could be vicious if she pressed him too hard. Somewhere along the wall of the room was a beam for her to hold onto if she needed to be caned.
"I have some special items to help you with this business."
Alisha almost became a different person. She smiled prettily and nodded her head eagerly when he told her the plan. "I'll get to see my family... Thomas?" She looked at him with hope in her eyes. She'd do anything to see him again, hold him, even briefly. "Please, give me time with Thomas."
"Why?" Alex looked at her. Clearly, her seeing Thomas was not to his benefit. "What reason have I to give you any favors? What could you possibly give me for that?" It was going to have to be an exchange and not a pleasant asking that would will him in to helping her. Though... something, it was hard to tell. There was, behind the blackness of his eyes a small give. It showed in the flexing of his jaw as he looked down at the tables as if to hide the momentary empathy he might have felt.
Alisha canted her head, confused by his answer. "I got you the dagger, when you didn't think I could. I'll get you whatever you want, I just want to see him. I want to tell him that it's not his fault that I disappeared. I want to tell him I'm sorry." The tears were welling in her eyes and she was fighting them with all of her strength. "Please, just a little time."
Alex paused when he looked at her and then sighed, "You understand that you travel space and time and that when you see him it may not be the day after you saw him? It could be five weeks before you've even met. It could be years that you've been gone." When her eyes started to get glassy it seemed to anger him more than pull on sympathetic heart strings, "Alisha, if you cannot complete this mission successfully I will not trust you. I will throw you out and you will fend for yourself on the streets of this planet. If you... are successful, quickly... whatever time remains you may do with as you wish. Just understand one thing," he cleared his throat and looked at her, "What has happened, has happened, and cannot be undone. If you see Thomas now and he has not seen you for years, you cannot go back in time to change that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"So what year are you sending me back to? The date, and time? And if I go back to when I was still in Rhy'din, I won't be able to do interact with him? To tell him that I love him?" She sat on the edge of the desk and put her face into her hands. "What's the point? I'm never going to have Thomas back and you're going to end up throwing me on the streets anyway. Just do it and get it over with. Stop threatening me."
"I'm not... entirely sure. Lyall is difficult to track because he has been back and forth so many times. I know what happened, because it has already happened. Here, for this time," he leaned forward, looking at the written details and then looking back to her, "I am essentially back tracking you to a point that he is in Rhydin. I believe it will be before your employment with me, because you are living in Rhydin at the time... there is some record of you attending a vampire party where the police got involved. You could come across yourself, which would be bad." When she put her face in her hands he stood up, eying her so harshly she might have felt it through her hands, "Is this the woman who saved a tribe from an oppressive shaman... crying and giving up before she has ever started? Pull it together. You won't get thrown on the streets if you just mind your tongue and do your job instead of cry and complain. If this job were easy I would hire anyone to do it."
Alisha let out a breath and lifted her head from her hands. She gave Alex a baleful look and then pushed off of the desk. "Just send me where you have to and I'll get what you want. Just don't make me stay there for too long." There was a coldness in her eyes and her words were icey. If there was a switch to the emotions, she'd flipped hers to the off position.
"Alisha..." he looked at her, his impatience, the edge to him, easing, "You must understand that if you meet yourself and change any of your future actions that you will make a time loop. You must be careful if that situation arises. Lyall always stays at the Inn, which you do not frequent too much so that shouldn't be a problem. Come here," he walked away from the table and towards the door, looking over his shoulder to see if she would follow.
"Don't interact with myself or my loved ones while in my history. Got it." She nodded and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes tracked him as he moved across the room and for a moment she was locked in the place she stood. A flicker of defiance was in her eyes, but that would only lead to more arguing. She just wanted to get on with it. With a sigh, she unfolded her arms and walked towards him. "What?"
"I didn't say loved ones," he corrected her, holding up his hand, "I said you couldn't change the outcomes of what had already happened by your presence." He had one of the candlesticks from the table in his hand. Her defiance wouldn't lead to arguing-- it would lead to a caning. When she folled him he turned and then walked down the hall. They continued for several yards until he unlocked and opened a door on the right. When the heavy oak door opened, the room was without light and absoultely filled with boxes. The boxes were labeled in what she might have started to recognize was his handwriting. There were hundreds. Maybe even a thousand boxes in there. He stopped in front of one of them, which sat next to a wooden box holding the dagger she had retrieved, and opened it, "This is called the mockingbird mask." The candlestick was set down when he opened the box, reaching in to withdraw a velvet bag. He opened the bag and withdrew what looked like a long, oval piece of skin, as if someone had neatly and without any signs of blood, peeled the face off of someone.
Alisha followed, her hands folded behind her back as she strolled a step behind him. "I just won't interact with any of them. I'll do what I'm supposed to do and then hide in the Glen until you bring me back here." She'd given up hope of seeing her family again. There was resignation in her voice. She didn't think that Alex really cared one way or another, so long as she didn't create one of the loops that he'd described. And when she went into the pitch black room wiith nothing more than candlelight, her eyes widened so she could see better. She looked down at the oval of skin and frowned darkly. "You want me to peel someone's face off? I can't."
"No, not at all." After it was unfolded in his hands he placed it on his face. At first, it seemed nothing happened and then it started to seal itself to his skin. It moved, slid, and then where his face had been was now the fascade of Helena, the maid who worked for him. Alex reached at the side of his face and then peeled it off. His skin was red, it looked aggitated like he had just gotten his face waxed except that the hair was still here, "It is an effective way to mask your presense, but you should not wear it for more than two hours at a time." He rolled it up and placed it in the velvet bag, extending it to her. "I will be expecting you to return this to me when you come back."
Alisha watched in fascination as the mask first molded it to his skin and then changed his very appearance. She blinked twice and then he began to peel the mask away once again. The information was stored away into her brain. More than two hours... and then what? Alisha didn't want to know, so she didn't ask. Taking the bag, Alisha backed out of his storage closet of goodies. "How long are you sending me?"
"That is up to you," he lifted up the candle and stepped out with her to the main hall. With its large windows, it now seemed silly that he was carrying a candle at all because of how the sunlight flooded through the windows. "Have you any history of being a thief? I am asking you to steal something from someone who is much like you--" beyond the fact that it was her father, "Lyall will protect it as you would protect the items I ask you to gather. I do not know how difficult he will be for you to work with."
Alisha followed, once again, a step behind with her hands folded behind her back. The velvet bag slapped against her behind. "Well if I just tell him that you want me to bring it back, to give him more time doing whatever it is he's doing, I'm sure that he'll be alright with it." It seemed pretty simple to her.
"No, you don't understand," he turned to look at her, "Lyall has already failed to give me the goblet. It has already happened, you can't change that. It was stolen from him when he was in Rhy'Din and he was unable to get it back for me. It was," he paused, a small inflection in his voice, "one of the last missions he did for me. The only thing I can hope for, at this point, is that you steal it before it is stolen."
"Oh, so I have to steal it from him before he either loses it or sells it." She got it. No interaction with anyone. She could do it, she was sure of it. Then she'll be back here and the pain of leaving her home once again would be over. "I'll bring back your goblet. Do you have a drawing or photo before I go?"
"I didn't say he lost it or sold it," Alex blinked at her, wondering where her inferences came from, "I said it was stolen from him." When she asked him about the drawing he nodded and returned to the large marbel room where the papers had been. There was a drawing, even some of the green colors of the item detailed on the paper before he handed it to her.
"How do you know it was stolen from Lyall? Is it that valuable?" She thought of the dagger. It was a hollowed out piece of what looked like bamboo. Except for that village, it would have been worth nothing. Gazing upon the image of the goblet, she pouted just a little bit, thoughtfully.
"Because I was paying Lyall with time, time that he wanted, very much, more than money or anything else. He would not have sold it, he would not have given it up willingly because he wanted only what I could give him. It is... valuable, in the same nature that the mocking bird mask is. That your watch is. Unusual, with properties that may be what I want." He arched a brow at her. She was correct in her assumptions about the dagger in the village. It hadn't been an item that, in and of itself, had value. It was all about what it could do-- which apparently wasn't what he had been looking for.
Time was valuable, Alisha knew it and nodded solemnly. "Alright. Do what you need to do and I'll do what I need to do. If your calculations are right, this should be an easy snatch and grab."
"I don't know," he admitted, looking at her, "would stealing anything from you be an easy snatch and grab?" The candle was set on the table. He adjusted his arms so that the sleeves were pushed back from his hands, "Are you ready? Hand me your wrist."
Alisha knew nothing was ever as simple as speaking the words. She threw another baleful gaze at Alex before she thrust her arm out and her wrist into his hands. "Two beeps for the twenty four hour warning, right?" She just wanted this to be over with. The thought of being on familiar ground was hard enough. Not going to familiar places or seeing familiar faces was quite the other. She steeled herself, ready for whatever Alex was going to do.
"Yes. Then two beeps for one hour reminder. Then a beep at the time you must go." Because time was relative, and strange. Some planets orbited slower to where a day was not twenty four hours.
When her wrist stuck out to him he reached over, index fingertip gliding over its surface as it lit up. There was some chirping. He looked back at the papers, of his long calculations and then began to enter some numbers, "How does a week sound?" Before she sound tell him it was or wasn't enough, the world blinked, spun on its head and she was gone.
The white light and chaos surrounded her and the voices of a billion people murmuring all at once deafened her. Her inner gyro spun out of control as she was hurtled through space and time. It had happened twice before, but she would never get accustomed to the utter terror of plummeting through such a thing. And then suddenly the noise and light suddenly stopped. It was night time and dew was settling onto the grass in the Glen. Some cosmic breaks were put on to allow her to land at a gentle (somewhat) five miles an hour. It knocked the air from her lungs as she looked up into the black sky with a million twinkling stars. Shifting her head to the right, she saw the twin moons and knew that she was home.
Four days. She had been left alone to recover, to rethink and revive herself for four days. There was Helena and a handful of other servants who worked on his estate. Beyond that, people that seemed more like henchmen and thugs, the men dressed in brown, occasionally showed up. It must have been for transactions that required less finesse. They never brought him items, only money. It could have been the taxes that people paid to live on his land.
There were times she would see him, too, but Alex kept to himself a great deal. He did not eat with the others, drink, or engage with them personally. In the four days she was there he had no callers, no social gatherings and nor did he attend them. It could have been that the sample of the day to day life at the enormous stone manor (or was it a castle? It was decidedly contemporary in design if it was) was unusual and that he was much more engaging, much more sociable, than that.
"The Collector wants ta see you, Alisha." Mr. A. Alex. The Collector. There were a handful of names that were interchangeable that her employer went by. Helena had seen the young woman crying. Lyall had cried, too, and sometimes seemed so distraught and disjointed, talking about strange things that none of them understood but tried to show him sympathy for.
Her payment had not been in money, as expected, but in clothes that weren't cheap because everything had to be handmade. The essentials that she needed, which were clothes that fit her properly,had come from her wages but she was still left with a small handful of coins. In her room was a small combination safe, strangely modern given everything else around her, that was used for her to store money. Helena explained that all the workers here were honest but that money in these times was agreat temptation. Those that worked for Alex knew that when his courier was gone it was more distant than simply being in the other room.
"He's in his room, you know the one." She pointed unnecessarily towards the hall that would lead to the room with the marbel floor. It was where she had first met him and where she had returned to him at the end of her mission.
Four days to wrap her mind around being back where she really didn't want to be. The food was fair and the servants were kind. But the manor and it's lord, were nothing more than shelter from the elements to her. She did not want to be in this place, nor did she want to be anywhere else Alex decided to send her. Well, except for home. She didn't allow herself to think of home very often. To do so would bring an onslaught of tears and enormous pain. Only in the dark of night when she was truly alone did she ever allow herself to slip into that pit of despair. During the day she spent her time being fitted for new clothes and pampered by Helena and the other servants. Pampered might have been a strong word for it, but to Alisha their tokens of kindness and sympathy were balms for her soul.
"I don't want to see him," she replied a bit haughtily and very defiantly. Alisha turned her back to Helena so that she could button up the shirt that she'd put on. Already in breeches, knee high boots and a blouse, the shirt was added for extra protection from the sun. Alisha had known that Alex would be calling for her, so she made sure that she was ready for anything. He was going to toss her into another strange world and she was going to be prepared.
Once the shirt was on, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and tied it off with a thick blue ribbon. Alisha turned and gave Helena an apologetic look. "I really don't want to see him. I'm sorry I snapped at you." She then tucked in her shirt and grabbed her bag of clothes. There was no reason to use the safe, she kept what few coins Alex gave her in her pockets. And with a determined squaring of her shoulders, Alisha headed out of the room and into the long hall. Her footsteps echoed in the dimly lit room and when she put her hand to the wooden door, it creaked open.
"Alex?"
"Afternoon. Have you been able to eat and sleep well?" It was almost exactly like the first time she saw him. He sat at a large table with many papers layered over it. Four candlesticks were lit on the table, brightly brightly and providing him the additional light that the large windows could not pour into him.
Alex's eyes were sharp and dark, like the eyes of a hawk, when he looked at someone. He stood up when she entered, "Come closer-- this mission will be a complicated one. You must go to multiple places and act decisively. I... have concerns for whether or not you succeed." The documentation of what had happened was not written in parts and in others, was too vague for him to be certain.
Alisha waved off the questions regarding her eating and sleeping. She knew that Alex really didn't care if she lived or died. That was more than evident with how the man had reacted to hearing of Lyall's death. She wandered up to the desk and picked up a piece of yellowed parchment. "That's what you said last time," she scoffed. The paper was sat back down onto his desk. She didn't understand the scribbled writing anyway. "But since you have such a lack of faith in my ability, I'll just be going back to my room." Without a glance to him, Alisha turned towards the door and began to walk.
"You'll be thrown out of your room if you don't work." He reminded her, speaking to her back evenly. Then his eyes went down, "I feel that you will be distracted and you will not do the job that I am asking. Partly from your moody little outbursts. Could you focus on the job?" His voice did not become a yell, or spike too high after her spoke. His eyes watched her form as he straightened from where he, took, had been leaned over looking at the documents.
Alisha stopped just as she got to the door. One day she was going to keep on walking. But today was not that day. She was still too new, too green. She had no idea what really lay beyond the boundaries of the manor, and she didn't have the courage of her convictions. What really bothered her was that he knew it. She turned slowly, trying so hard to keep her face as placid as she could. But those storm clouds in her eyes could not be hidden. "Well, if you put me there for a week to get a simple dagger, when all it would have taken was a few hours, then I wouldn't have gotten all caught up in the lives of the people that were in that village," she replied bitterly. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. "All I want is to get in, get out, do the job and get paid. Don't toy with me, Alex."
"I needed to know about the dagger, for one," he said and then sat in his chair, "Also, you must imagine that I am sending you through hundred of thousands of miles through space and time where even a fraction of something being miscalculated would result in you being off by five hundred years. Planets such as that one, at times before space travel, have a history which is hard to coordinate." As if he had had to explain this before and was irritated at doing so. He summarized it, "Suffice it to say, sending you certain places is difficult. I give you time. You could have been a hundred miles away from where the dagger was. You could have instantly been imprisioned for looking different." When she talked about getting in and getting out he looked at her carefully, "Do you think you can manage just getting in and out, this time? I am sending you to Rhy'Din."
There he goes, doing what he does. Berating her as if she were a child and throwing all sorts of numbers and variants at her as if she were two. She sighed and put her hand to her hip and leaned more on one leg than the other. To her, he sounded like the teacher from the Peanut's Gang cartoons. "Waa waa wa waa waaa" And truly, she was already tired of his lecture. She was about to turn back around and walk out when he said the one thing that had her eyes snapping upwards to look into his eyes and her jaw dropping slightly. "Rhy'din?"
"I need you to steal something from Lyall," he said as he looked at her, knowing that the destination would get her attention, "As I said, I feel that this mission is a challenge for you because you will become distracted and you will fail. I understand that you come from Rhy'Din," he lifted a piece of paper from the others and put it on the table, closer to her. Alisha had seemed to forget that Alex could be vicious if she pressed him too hard. Somewhere along the wall of the room was a beam for her to hold onto if she needed to be caned.
"I have some special items to help you with this business."
Alisha almost became a different person. She smiled prettily and nodded her head eagerly when he told her the plan. "I'll get to see my family... Thomas?" She looked at him with hope in her eyes. She'd do anything to see him again, hold him, even briefly. "Please, give me time with Thomas."
"Why?" Alex looked at her. Clearly, her seeing Thomas was not to his benefit. "What reason have I to give you any favors? What could you possibly give me for that?" It was going to have to be an exchange and not a pleasant asking that would will him in to helping her. Though... something, it was hard to tell. There was, behind the blackness of his eyes a small give. It showed in the flexing of his jaw as he looked down at the tables as if to hide the momentary empathy he might have felt.
Alisha canted her head, confused by his answer. "I got you the dagger, when you didn't think I could. I'll get you whatever you want, I just want to see him. I want to tell him that it's not his fault that I disappeared. I want to tell him I'm sorry." The tears were welling in her eyes and she was fighting them with all of her strength. "Please, just a little time."
Alex paused when he looked at her and then sighed, "You understand that you travel space and time and that when you see him it may not be the day after you saw him? It could be five weeks before you've even met. It could be years that you've been gone." When her eyes started to get glassy it seemed to anger him more than pull on sympathetic heart strings, "Alisha, if you cannot complete this mission successfully I will not trust you. I will throw you out and you will fend for yourself on the streets of this planet. If you... are successful, quickly... whatever time remains you may do with as you wish. Just understand one thing," he cleared his throat and looked at her, "What has happened, has happened, and cannot be undone. If you see Thomas now and he has not seen you for years, you cannot go back in time to change that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"So what year are you sending me back to? The date, and time? And if I go back to when I was still in Rhy'din, I won't be able to do interact with him? To tell him that I love him?" She sat on the edge of the desk and put her face into her hands. "What's the point? I'm never going to have Thomas back and you're going to end up throwing me on the streets anyway. Just do it and get it over with. Stop threatening me."
"I'm not... entirely sure. Lyall is difficult to track because he has been back and forth so many times. I know what happened, because it has already happened. Here, for this time," he leaned forward, looking at the written details and then looking back to her, "I am essentially back tracking you to a point that he is in Rhydin. I believe it will be before your employment with me, because you are living in Rhydin at the time... there is some record of you attending a vampire party where the police got involved. You could come across yourself, which would be bad." When she put her face in her hands he stood up, eying her so harshly she might have felt it through her hands, "Is this the woman who saved a tribe from an oppressive shaman... crying and giving up before she has ever started? Pull it together. You won't get thrown on the streets if you just mind your tongue and do your job instead of cry and complain. If this job were easy I would hire anyone to do it."
Alisha let out a breath and lifted her head from her hands. She gave Alex a baleful look and then pushed off of the desk. "Just send me where you have to and I'll get what you want. Just don't make me stay there for too long." There was a coldness in her eyes and her words were icey. If there was a switch to the emotions, she'd flipped hers to the off position.
"Alisha..." he looked at her, his impatience, the edge to him, easing, "You must understand that if you meet yourself and change any of your future actions that you will make a time loop. You must be careful if that situation arises. Lyall always stays at the Inn, which you do not frequent too much so that shouldn't be a problem. Come here," he walked away from the table and towards the door, looking over his shoulder to see if she would follow.
"Don't interact with myself or my loved ones while in my history. Got it." She nodded and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes tracked him as he moved across the room and for a moment she was locked in the place she stood. A flicker of defiance was in her eyes, but that would only lead to more arguing. She just wanted to get on with it. With a sigh, she unfolded her arms and walked towards him. "What?"
"I didn't say loved ones," he corrected her, holding up his hand, "I said you couldn't change the outcomes of what had already happened by your presence." He had one of the candlesticks from the table in his hand. Her defiance wouldn't lead to arguing-- it would lead to a caning. When she folled him he turned and then walked down the hall. They continued for several yards until he unlocked and opened a door on the right. When the heavy oak door opened, the room was without light and absoultely filled with boxes. The boxes were labeled in what she might have started to recognize was his handwriting. There were hundreds. Maybe even a thousand boxes in there. He stopped in front of one of them, which sat next to a wooden box holding the dagger she had retrieved, and opened it, "This is called the mockingbird mask." The candlestick was set down when he opened the box, reaching in to withdraw a velvet bag. He opened the bag and withdrew what looked like a long, oval piece of skin, as if someone had neatly and without any signs of blood, peeled the face off of someone.
Alisha followed, her hands folded behind her back as she strolled a step behind him. "I just won't interact with any of them. I'll do what I'm supposed to do and then hide in the Glen until you bring me back here." She'd given up hope of seeing her family again. There was resignation in her voice. She didn't think that Alex really cared one way or another, so long as she didn't create one of the loops that he'd described. And when she went into the pitch black room wiith nothing more than candlelight, her eyes widened so she could see better. She looked down at the oval of skin and frowned darkly. "You want me to peel someone's face off? I can't."
"No, not at all." After it was unfolded in his hands he placed it on his face. At first, it seemed nothing happened and then it started to seal itself to his skin. It moved, slid, and then where his face had been was now the fascade of Helena, the maid who worked for him. Alex reached at the side of his face and then peeled it off. His skin was red, it looked aggitated like he had just gotten his face waxed except that the hair was still here, "It is an effective way to mask your presense, but you should not wear it for more than two hours at a time." He rolled it up and placed it in the velvet bag, extending it to her. "I will be expecting you to return this to me when you come back."
Alisha watched in fascination as the mask first molded it to his skin and then changed his very appearance. She blinked twice and then he began to peel the mask away once again. The information was stored away into her brain. More than two hours... and then what? Alisha didn't want to know, so she didn't ask. Taking the bag, Alisha backed out of his storage closet of goodies. "How long are you sending me?"
"That is up to you," he lifted up the candle and stepped out with her to the main hall. With its large windows, it now seemed silly that he was carrying a candle at all because of how the sunlight flooded through the windows. "Have you any history of being a thief? I am asking you to steal something from someone who is much like you--" beyond the fact that it was her father, "Lyall will protect it as you would protect the items I ask you to gather. I do not know how difficult he will be for you to work with."
Alisha followed, once again, a step behind with her hands folded behind her back. The velvet bag slapped against her behind. "Well if I just tell him that you want me to bring it back, to give him more time doing whatever it is he's doing, I'm sure that he'll be alright with it." It seemed pretty simple to her.
"No, you don't understand," he turned to look at her, "Lyall has already failed to give me the goblet. It has already happened, you can't change that. It was stolen from him when he was in Rhy'Din and he was unable to get it back for me. It was," he paused, a small inflection in his voice, "one of the last missions he did for me. The only thing I can hope for, at this point, is that you steal it before it is stolen."
"Oh, so I have to steal it from him before he either loses it or sells it." She got it. No interaction with anyone. She could do it, she was sure of it. Then she'll be back here and the pain of leaving her home once again would be over. "I'll bring back your goblet. Do you have a drawing or photo before I go?"
"I didn't say he lost it or sold it," Alex blinked at her, wondering where her inferences came from, "I said it was stolen from him." When she asked him about the drawing he nodded and returned to the large marbel room where the papers had been. There was a drawing, even some of the green colors of the item detailed on the paper before he handed it to her.
"How do you know it was stolen from Lyall? Is it that valuable?" She thought of the dagger. It was a hollowed out piece of what looked like bamboo. Except for that village, it would have been worth nothing. Gazing upon the image of the goblet, she pouted just a little bit, thoughtfully.
"Because I was paying Lyall with time, time that he wanted, very much, more than money or anything else. He would not have sold it, he would not have given it up willingly because he wanted only what I could give him. It is... valuable, in the same nature that the mocking bird mask is. That your watch is. Unusual, with properties that may be what I want." He arched a brow at her. She was correct in her assumptions about the dagger in the village. It hadn't been an item that, in and of itself, had value. It was all about what it could do-- which apparently wasn't what he had been looking for.
Time was valuable, Alisha knew it and nodded solemnly. "Alright. Do what you need to do and I'll do what I need to do. If your calculations are right, this should be an easy snatch and grab."
"I don't know," he admitted, looking at her, "would stealing anything from you be an easy snatch and grab?" The candle was set on the table. He adjusted his arms so that the sleeves were pushed back from his hands, "Are you ready? Hand me your wrist."
Alisha knew nothing was ever as simple as speaking the words. She threw another baleful gaze at Alex before she thrust her arm out and her wrist into his hands. "Two beeps for the twenty four hour warning, right?" She just wanted this to be over with. The thought of being on familiar ground was hard enough. Not going to familiar places or seeing familiar faces was quite the other. She steeled herself, ready for whatever Alex was going to do.
"Yes. Then two beeps for one hour reminder. Then a beep at the time you must go." Because time was relative, and strange. Some planets orbited slower to where a day was not twenty four hours.
When her wrist stuck out to him he reached over, index fingertip gliding over its surface as it lit up. There was some chirping. He looked back at the papers, of his long calculations and then began to enter some numbers, "How does a week sound?" Before she sound tell him it was or wasn't enough, the world blinked, spun on its head and she was gone.
The white light and chaos surrounded her and the voices of a billion people murmuring all at once deafened her. Her inner gyro spun out of control as she was hurtled through space and time. It had happened twice before, but she would never get accustomed to the utter terror of plummeting through such a thing. And then suddenly the noise and light suddenly stopped. It was night time and dew was settling onto the grass in the Glen. Some cosmic breaks were put on to allow her to land at a gentle (somewhat) five miles an hour. It knocked the air from her lungs as she looked up into the black sky with a million twinkling stars. Shifting her head to the right, she saw the twin moons and knew that she was home.