Slice of Life

[The Raven Basilards]

Spring, 122 PW (Post-Gala)

The basilard sat in an alleyway, back to the wall and atop a forgotten box, thinking. It had acquired a body, that of a child. The form was weak and frail, more so due to its inferior understanding of the body’s needs. It knew what humans required for continued existence, as one did not coexist with them for two thousand years without arriving at an understanding. It was just that sleep, food, and water did not seem like natural responses to given stimuli: how was it to always know what a stomach ache meant? A dropping eyelid? Further exacerbating the issue was that it found itself routinely underestimating the importance of such matters. The basilard could not be sure it wasn’t afflicted by some disease, but if it had to guess it would say its current, exceptional frailty extended from the fact that it had not eaten in several days.

The basilard extended its gaunt left hand, the blade which held its being gripped firmly by its right. It bore a tattered sleeve, the weapon having stolen a new shirt. The tatters of the boy’s old shirt still clung to the blade, hiding its light from the world, but it suspected it would have to find a new method of cover soon. It would not hope to come across a sheath which matched its dimensions.

Far more worrisome was the issue of rebellion. Were it a conventional war, the basilard would be but another weapon. But it was not, it was a new sort of war which the basilard had a less complete understanding of. The collapse of the wall and the justice hall bombings had put everyone on edge and made its position as a magic item all the more dangerous. While there had been plenty of innocent casualties, there had been few weapons drawn. Its kin had likely left few marks upon mortal flesh. It was an inconvenient method for events to unfold, to say the least.

The basilard slid from the box, deciding that it could worry as to the nature of the rebellion at a later date. For now, it had to locate sustenance to keep its body alive. The possession of this pale, white-haired child gave it an advantage which it had not possessed for many centuries and the basilard was not about to give that up.

The basilard considered its options before eventually choosing to head for the business district. There was a higher than average risk of discovery in the area, but it would be guaranteed to find food there. The basilard wasn’t entirely certain how unstable its body was at the moment and thought it best not to take chances.

The streets were largely barren, only occasionally did it find humans walking them. Perhaps the citizens of Marn were nervous in light of the attacks. The basilard felt uncomfortable without a crowd to hide in, though the boy’s face did not change at all. It clutched its blade tightly to its chest as it shuffled down the road. His left hand covered the signature raven upon the hilt. It was well to be identified by those who knew the location of its kin, but not by a Puradyne who noted the possibility of magic.

It shuffled off down the roads in such a manner, searching for an opportunity at a food stall. It had no money and nothing to barter with, leaving theft as the only obvious option. As it walked, it took large curves to avoid approaching any others who roamed the city. When performing one such maneuver, it halted, noticing a smell in the air.

Though the boy’s expression still did not change, he did turn his nose up and sniff at the air. It was a pleasant smell, which the basilard was fairly certain meant it was appealing to the boy’s instincts and probably food. Then again, it could also be a perfume of some sort; the blade really couldn’t be at all certain. It was not familiar with olfactory senses. Or any of them, for that matter.

It followed the scent the its source, whereupon the basilard became certain that it had stumbled upon a bakery. It was a two story building and not populated. It was set right up against the road, so the basilard crept up to the wall easily. From this position, it restored focus to the senses of the blade portion of its being.

It could sense only one consciousness in the building. If it understood human expression, it might have bit its lip in indecision. As it was, the boy only stood perfectly still with his back to the wall. It wasn’t certain if it would get another chance, and the aroma was nice. The basilard jerked to attention, suddenly realizing the train of its thought. Surely there was unguarded food somewhere in the city. The weapon grew a bit concerned over the weight its new senses held upon its actions.

Perhaps seeking refuge in the familiar, it turned back to the blade’s perception yet again. With such extensive focus upon that aspect of its being, it noticed something it had missed the first time. There was magic in that person. It was weak and unpracticed, but it was there.

This made it significantly less likely that whoever was inside was a dedicated Puradyne. It was certainly still possible, but less likely. The basilard entertained the notion of contacting the baker. Crime was no longer necessary, for it had extensive knowledge of the seal. Knowledge of magic could be used to barter with mages.

The basilard chose to take the chance. It slunk over to the front door, whereupon it began to speak with its telepathy. The thoughts passed through the wall of the building. Greetings mage, it began, its voice but a whisper in her mind. Am I correct in assuming you are the baker of this building? I am outside, and wish to acquire nourishment.

[Talia Idris]

"Damn it!" The words popped out of Talia mouth before she had a chance to stop them. She waved her left hand in the air as the other reached for a hot cloth to pull out a tray of cookies that she had just burnt her hand on.

Come on Talia, she scolded herself as she slid the baked goods onto a cooling rack. You have never sworn before when you have hurt yourself and there is no reason to start now. And honestly? Burning yourself after this long in the business? What were you thinking? Pull yourself together and get back to work! Sighing she shook, straightened her shoulders and tried to smile.

As much as she tried to deny it the events surrounding the Gala had left her with many conflicting emotions. Yet it was easier to work and try and forget about what had happened, what had been said instead of simply dealing with it on her own. After all people still needed bread and buns. Not to mention she could use some of her spare time to work on her more specialized treats. Bepa and Vadim didn't mind her putting in the extra hours either so long as everything sold and the quality of the daily stock didn't go down.

Talia snapped off a portion of the aloe vera plant that she kept around for these instances, although they were mostly for Bepa who usually was too distracted with conversation or her husband to remember that a burner was hot. Applying the juices from the plant to her finger tips she hummed at the sweet relief that it brought. The burns weren't too bad although it probably would be a bit irritating to knead the dough with them for the next few days.

She frowned at that thought as she started cleaning up her mess for the night. It was getting late and she had an early morning.

Greetings mage.

A voice suddenly echoed in her mind causing the dishes in her hands to fall to the floor.

Am I correct in assuming you are the baker of this building? I am outside, and wish to acquire nourishment.

The voice continued and her eyes widened as she looked around the room trying to find the source of the words that she was hearing, her head swivelled to the locked door as it seemed to answer her unasked question. She didn't like this...this voice in her head but at the same time, she didn't feel as though she could ignore it either.

Taking a step towards the door she spoke, rather she squeaked "Yes." Clearing her voice nervously she took another step closer. "I am one of the bakers here but I think you have the wrong bakery, there is no mage here." Her voice grew stronger as she continued although she could not stop herself from approaching the door until she could have touched it and unlocked it if her hands weren't shaking.

"If you come back tomorrow evening when we are closing, there may be some day-old products that we could give you for free if you really need it." She tried not to think about the three loaves sitting untouched on the counter next to her as she waited for an answer or even better, retreating footsteps.

[The Raven Basilards]

The basilard blinked, though it otherwise displayed no unconscious expressions of surprise. The boy simply stood still, staring straight at the door while clutching the knife to its chest as if it were a favorite toy. It had not expected the response it had received. It was rare that one came across mages truly ignorant to what they were, even in a Puradyne society.

It took a long moment before it spoke again. One watching the child may have been forgiven for assuming he was a scrawny, tall lawn gnome left on the doorstep as a prank. It desired to choose its next words carefully, for the girl on the other side of the door was clearly of a meek disposition. It had little desire or cause to frighten her. The wind ruffled his pale, blonde-white hair. The basilard was surprised to find itself shaking. It took the weapon a moment to realize that its host body had just shivered.

That is untrue. The basilard eventually said simply. It was possible that she was under the effects of some sort of curse, but the basilard found that unlikely. You are a mage. My senses are never incorrect in this matter.

It considered trying to press the matter of its need for food, but decided against it. It did not see the point in reminding her of what it had said mere moments ago. It simply waited outside the door, as unmoving as a statue. Eventually it began to wonder as to the occupant’s thoughts on the matter of the being outside. She was broadcasting mild fear, to both its mental senses and its human ones. Perhaps it needed to play upon different emotions.

May I enter? It is very cold. It did dare to hope she might open the door before the sunset. While night had previously brought it many slight advantages, it could see why mortals disliked the darkness. Mortals without sight were comparable to it without its telepathy: helpless. It brought itself out of its thoughts, waiting for the door to swing open. It had waited decades on mortals before. It could do so again. I assure you I am no danger.

[Talia Idris]

Talia took a step back with nervous laugh and shook head before realizing that whoever, whatever was out there couldn't see her actions. At least she didn't think he could. Her heart felt as though it stopped for a moment at that thought. This whole situation was practically terrifying. Instances like this is what made her regret living in the bakery on her own.

Yet a little fire of curiosity flickered inside her. She had always known that her father had possessed some sort of magical ability, after all using it was what got him killed, and rightfully so. It was only natural to assume that she had a potential for the 'craft' as well although what her skill could be was beyond her. Unless baking or growing herbs and flowers could be deemed magic.

WHAT are you thinking?! Talia questioned herself, slightly shocked at where her own thoughts had taken her. She had made a point of never wondering these things. They were what got people in trouble, hurt even. Magic corrupted good people even if they didn't want to be. It was a disease, at least that was how she always felt.

May I enter? It is very cold. I assure you I am no danger.

She bit her lip in indecision as the voice echoed inside her head once more. The feeling caused her to wince, even though there was no pain involved it still felt...wrong.

"How do I know you are telling the truth?" She asked hoping that the answer would prove to be unsatisfactory and she could get back to her evening and pretend this was just a dream. A side effect of too much work and stress over the past week.

[The Raven Basilards]

There had been a time, once, when mortals were not so suspicious of one another. When it could simply introduce itself. That had been many centuries ago, before the seal, when magic had been an omnipresent fact of life. The boy’s eyes looked upwards to the sky. It was a pointless gesture, for the seal was invisible to those without the proper senses. The basilard possessed those senses, and took a moment to feel the great barrier between this world and the next.

The seal was weaker than it had been at its formation. As far as the blade could tell, the dwindling calendar was accurate. In a mere 122 years the seal would collapse into nothingness. The blade couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of such an occurrence. It greatly desired to find its kin before such time when the calamities struck. The first step to that goal was before it, in the acquisition of food such that it could sustain its means of mobility. It continued to speak to her.

I suppose I can offer little proof of my words. I am not certain what I could say that would qualify as such. Though it again relies upon trust, it may put you at ease were I to inform you I am currently but a small distance over a meter in height and of strength comparable to a gnome's. It chose to leave out the fact that it was technically armed, and clutched the weapon such that its wrapped form would not be immediately identifiable.

The blade began hearing noises and sensing a new consciousness behind it. Careful to not release the blade, it turned its head such that it could see. A stray dog wandered down the street, sniffing at the ground. It also appeared hungry. For a moment, the basilard entertained the thought of attempting to kill it for sustenance before immediately rejecting the idea as impractical. It would gather attention, have a low likelihood of success, and be of poor nutritional value regardless. It was best to continue bartering with the one on the other side of the door.

Magic can be dangerous. You may have noticed abnormal occurrences in your daily life. It chuckled, and sent a corresponding sound across the mental link. For example, me. If you truly desire it so, I shall leave and go hungry another night. My knowledge may prove useful to another.

[Talia Idris]

Shifting from foot to foot she tried to think quickling. She did feel safer knowing that whoever stood outside her door was no physical challenge, at least if he was telling the truth. But the way he spoke...it felt to factual to be a lie. Why would somone be so honest and straight forward if they were trying to rob from her? And why not wait until she was asleep upstairs?

Sighing Talia reached her hand up, pausing for a moment before turning the lock and opening the door a crack to peak out. She eyes widened as the light behind her showed a young boy in the alley.

"You are just a boy! Why didn't you say so in the first place? " She exclaimed, trying to proccess how one so young could speak with so much maturity. Opening the door wider she stepped back and ushered him in.

"It's a bit cold outside, come sit by the fire and I will get you something to drink and eat." She said as she closed the door behind him running over to pull a chair up to the stove and adding a few extra sticks to restoke the fire, her focus now absorbed in making sure he was comfortable first. What he knew and how he came by it could wait a moment.

[The Raven Basilards]

Her change in demeanor was abrupt now that she believed it to be human, but the basilard had long ago noted that humans nearly universally responded more positively to its wielders than they ever did it. Her reaction came as no surprise. It chose to play along for now, but it did not expect her misconception to last long.

There was little to be gained from remaining outdoors so it did not immediately take the time to correct her. Instead it strode into the bakery and let the aroma of the bread wash over it. It noted with interest that it began to salivate. Having unconscious reactions to external stimulus was always a fascinating experience.

The girl had mentioned a fire which it could sit beside. The basilard found that reasonable, and glanced about the room. Finding that she was not referring to a fireplace, it realized as she pulled up a chair she meant the stove. It was an agreeable arrangement, and the basilard felt a bit unreasonable for expecting anything else. It moved to sit down. I thank you for your kindness, baker.

It had nearly called her by the title “mage” instead, but the basilard was aware that she was not yet comfortable with her aptitude. It had no need to press the issue. At the moment, it only required bread.

The baker’s generosity made the basilard hesitant to lie as to its nature. On one hand, it doubted she would take the news that it was actually the blade the child held in any favorable light. On the other, it had no lies prepared at the moment. Besides which, it did not care to deceive one who could be made into an ally if the situation was explained with the proper delicacy. It did have a valid line of reasoning for doing what it was doing.

As the baker worked at the fire, the basilard came up with a few plausible lies, including such things as being a mute and the blade enabling “his” telepathy for the sake of communication. The puradynes rendered such difficult, as the basilard expected such a story to be questioned.

The basilard resolved itself. It would be discovered sooner or later, but it might as well be on its own terms. It waited patiently, preparing itself.

[Talia Idris]

Once she was satisfied with the fire she stood up and walked over to the counter where the leftover bread lay. She smiled to herself as the boy thanked her, although gritted her teeth when he choose to speak in her mind instead of using his voice as she hoped he would now that they were face to face.

Grabbing her breadknife she sliced a couple thick slices before oing to the icebox. Taking out some of the ham and cheese she had bought earlier that week for her dinners she sliced a few peices off both and added them to the plate. As she turned to hand the plate to the boy she froze, noticing for the first time what he was clutching in his hands.

The plate clattered to the floor, snapping her out of her shock. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, a list of questions and accusations piling up on her tongue but unable to make their escape. Finally she simply bent over and picked the food up off the floor, placing it on the plate as she kept an eye on the boy.

Standing up again she placed the plate on the counter, leaning against it for support and crossed her arms. He hadn't attacked or hurt her yet and he certainly had ample time to as she scurried around the room practically ignoring him. Which meant that he couldn't be that dangerous. But still what was such a young boy doing with a sword?!

She waited a moment before opening her mouth, this time words actually coming out. "I can understand why you didn't tell me you didn't have a...a weapon. I wouldn't have let you in had I known. And I know that a weapon is useful when you are on your own....but isn't that a little big?" She sighed dropping her hands to her side. "Well you are here now so why don't you tell me what you are doing with it?"

[The Raven Basilards]

The basilard’s head did not turn in response to her inquiry. It simply stared forwards, into the fire. The whisper of its voice carried across the distance, barely audible over the rising fire of the stove. I was wondering when you would notice. It commented simply. With its free hand, it raised the weapon slightly. It began to unwrap it. Due to its desire to appear nonthreatening, the motion was slow and deliberate as his hand gradually orbited the blade. I have allowed you to make several misconceptions about me. Please, withhold your judgment. I assure you my reasons are sound.

The light began to show more and more through the folds of fabric, until the room was basked in a faint, pulsating violet. The orange glow of the fire seemed to war with the foreign light rather than mix with it, casting weird and alien shades throughout the bakery. The basilard’s light gradually faded, letting the natural light reassume dominance.

It placed the remnants of the cloth at its belt with a small amount of difficulty before raising the dagger such that its point was straight down and the eyes of the weapon looked into hers. This is my being. The voice you hear now, whispered into your thoughts, does not belong to the boy.

I am a Raven Basilard. The eyes of the weapon caught the remnants of the glow, creating two disturbing pupils in the empty eye sockets upon the hilt. The flickered away in but a moment, but their effect was only enhanced by their brevity.

The basilard brought an end to its theatrics by drawing the weapon back to its chest. The blank stare of its human side had never faltered, gazing into the fire with the dedication only the ill could muster. It was matched only by the stillness of the rest of its body.

The light decorated the shirt, but no longer passed beyond as the basilard’s glow hit its minimum. The knowledge may prove itself a burden, yet I feel it wise to entrust you with my purpose. Its whispery, echoing voice seemed somehow weaker, as if it were struggling to muster the will to push the thoughts across space.

The boy’s head finally turned to stare at Talia. Though its expression remained blank, its posture betrayed interest as it leaned forwards. It expected her reaction would reveal certain insight.

[Talia Idris]

If not for the counter that she had been already leaning on Talia would have ventured a few steps back as the sword revealed itself to her. Rather then fear, shock registered clearly on her face as she watched the battle of lights. An unsettling feeling washed over her when the light caught in the eyes of the raven on the hilt. She felt as though it was looking deeper then just speaking into her mind.

The arms she had crossed in a show of assertiveness changed until she was holding herself as if to keep herself from falling apart. Her mind raced as the basilard continued to speak to her. Her thoughts flickered to calling the guards to solve this issue but then it could be found out that she had some sort of magical ability and that would cause another whole world of trouble for her. There was Drayel of course, she was sure he would be willing to keep things hush hush but she already caused enough trouble for the poor man as it was. Not to mention he was a father now and she didn't think it wise to bring him into anything that could cause more possible harm to him. No, for now she would try and figure this out for her own.

Her mind darted to what the sword had called itself, a Raven Basilard. She spoke the words out loud, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling the words roll around her mouth. Her eyebrows knit together as she tried to recall where she had heard that name. It only took a moment before her eyes lite up in memory.

It had been late one night when she had still been working at any pub or tavern that needed a server or cook. A lonely traveller had entered the establishment, silent until he had imbibed several drinks. He then proceeded to babble on about some ancient glowing sword that could turn you into a raven if you stared into it's eyes. Talia had refused him anymore drinks and sent him off to his room and in the morning he had already departed. She had taken his story as just another myth that was told by a drunk.

Obviously not all parts of the travellers story had been true. She had looked into the eyes of the basilard and as far as she knew she remained fully human.

"Why me?" She finally burst out. "Would it not have been better to find some one who perhaps was a...a mage and actually was aware of it? What do you even want from me?" Her voice was shaky, she couldn't hide it.

She shifted on her feet and looked away, not being able to hold the expressionless gaze of the boy. She perked up a bit and glanced back to him and it. A worried look on her face. She felt bad that it took her this long to think about him.

"Is the child alright? You aren't causing him pain or anything?" She didn't know if she could trust the sword to answer her truthfully but it appeared to trying to be honest with her now. She looked towards the door for a moment wondering if it would be possible for her to escape for help if indeed it was hurting the child.

[The Raven Basilards]

The basilard’s light rose once and dulled again. It continued to do so, rhythmic like a beating heart. The blade was thinking. Her reaction was rather mild compared to those it had faced in the past, though the basilard had expected as much. She truly was like a mouse; timid, yet curious.

Why you? It repeated, That question is easily answered. My purpose in coming here is not to use or employ you. I simply wish to feed the child. It sent a chuckling noise to Talia through telepathy. I only came for bread. I was unaware that you were ignorant as to your nature.

The basilard hesitated in responding to her next line of inquiry. Its human eyes flicked downwards, and it began to move its feet back and forth. The effect was somewhat eerie: as the body moved like a restless child, its face still remained motionless.

The child will be unharmed, so long as I can secure sustenance for his form. You humans operate on bodily cues which are difficult to interpret. The basilard sifted through the boy’s memories, searching for information useful to the cause at hand. It cast its free hand to the side, dismissing the issue. It may serve to put you at ease were I to inform you his previous owner was quite abusive.

Such things matter not. Its voice whispered across the distance, barely audible even in the realm of the mind. Its fingers played at the weapon’s hilt, I was forged with a purpose and I will see it through. All else is but a secondary concern.

[Talia Idris]

She breathed a small sigh if relief knowing that the sword thing hadn't sought her out specifically because of who it thought she was. Her relief was short lasting however, her concern for the child still at the forefront of her mind. She looked at the plate of food she had been going to give him earlier, it had fallen on the floor but she had recently swept so there was just a bit of flour on it.

"Here." She said offering the plate to him. She took a few steps closer but still maintained the distance between them. "I know it fell on the floor but it's still good."

She had considered offering to make up a fresh plate and saving the fallen food for herself but would an inanimate object really be that particular about the cleanliness of the food going into it's host? She didn't think so.

After the boy accepted the plate and sat down, Talia crossed the room to the other chair and took a seat as well. She crossed her legs in order to try to keep her knees from shaking as she watched the child eat. Her eyebrows knit together as she thought.

She didn't like how this...this thing said that everything else was a secondary concern. If it was putting whatever its purpose was in front of the needs of it's host then it could be entirely possible that the child would eventually die. She didn't want to know how long he had gone without food or drink before the basilard had finally recognized his need for sustenance. What would stop it from wearing its' host out before moving onto someone else? What kind of purpose could an obviously ancient weapon have that it had not yet fulfilled in all those years?

She considered for a moment wrestling the sword away from the boy but she did not know if separating the two would actually separate whatever bond held them together. There was also a possiblity that it was granting the boy some sort of power that could make it harder or even harmful if someone did try to take the basilard away from it's currentt host.

She sighed silently. It was too hard for her to think of what to do this very instant but she had an idea to perhaps by her more time to figure things out.

"Have you thought about your...I mean the boy's need for sleep? He is still young and it is important if you desire for him to remain in proper health." She hated talking to the weapon as if the boy wasn't there sbut continued anyways. "I have a room upstairs with bed that he can sleep. You probably would have to leave early or stay until night falls and the Campions leave but it is warm and safe and I can bring you food."

[The Raven Basilards]

The basilard reached with its right hand to grab the plate. The balance of the dish was difficult with one hand, in no small part thanks to the basilard’s inexperience with a human form. The bread teetered ominously, threatening to crash to the floor once again before the tray settled comfortably on the boy’s lap.

The free hand then was used to reach down and grip the bread. To acquire an adequate grip, it dug its nails into the loaf as if they were the talons of the creature it derived its name from. It then raised the whole loaf to its mouth and began to gnaw upon its prey, taking great bites with a clearly deficient understanding of manners.

It continued to consume the loaf as it allowed Talia to continue her part of the conversation. She continued to show concern for the safety of the child. Perhaps she did not wish to consider the more arcane aspects of the situation, being of a Puradyne disposition. Regardless of her motives, she had been driven to offer the basilard a place to sleep and a source of food for an additional day.

It was a tempting offer. The basilard had to admit that the sensation of a pleasant taste such as the bread was enjoyable on a primitive level of the human parts of its consciousness. However, it did not believe it could trust the baker. She was concerned for the human, not the weapon which currently had control of his body. It would be all too easy for her to wrest the blade away while it allowed the boy to sleep, even considering the fact that the basilard parts of its mind were always at full activity. It had learned from hosts and wielders even before the boy that mortals were exceedingly poor at swift reactions upon being woken from sleep.

It took another bite of its bread as it considered the offer, going through the motions of chewing in a mechanical, repetitive fashion. It had eaten up to where its fingers had punctured the loaf’s crust. It twisted the remaining part such that it would not bite its fingers if it continued. It did not cease eating when it finally responded, using its telepathy to multitask. Diplomacy with humans has always been... challenging. Its whisper was weak, yet deliberate and calculated, Over the millennia that I have existed, differences in senses and thought between mortals and myself have caused certain rifts to occur.

The basilard finished the bread, and did not look in Talia’s direction. What I am saying is, simply put, I am not certain I can trust you. Not in light of what you have told me of your views on magic. Both of the basilard’s sets of eyes stared blankly forward, the hilt of the blade and the child’s seemingly suddenly not so different. It stopped eating the bread as it gazed at nothing noteworthy, even though there was but a few bites left. I can surmise that you return my suspicions. And so I must have assurance that you will not interfere before I accept.

The basilard lifted the remnants of its food to its lips and ate, careful not to waste a crumb. While chewing its meal as if it were the mildest day in history, it said I feel it wise to impress upon you that if I fail in my duty, the astral being which destroyed the society of the Ispoli giants before the event of the Great Seal will escape its prison within my form.

[Talia Idris]

Talia nodded. "I suppose I should expect that. Most people don't trust someone they just met. Although being a simple baker I doubt I am any sort of serious threat to...well whatever you and your plans are, I am just concerned about the child. Stay the night, let him sleep, I will cook a nice breakfast for the both of us and then you can leave. This way I can at least have some peace of mind about this whole thing.

She shrugged as if she didn't care what he was up to, although that was mostly true, she really was focused only on the boy right now. Plus she didn't know if she should believe the swords' whole doomsday type speech. How could one tell if an inanimate object was lying?

Standing up Talia stretched and untied the strings of her apron before pulling it up over her head. Walking over towards the door she placed the apron on the hooks besides it.

"So what's it going to be?" She asked, again trying to act as if she didn't care as she grabbed a pen and a book from a drawer as she started taking a quick inventory, praying that something would be out and she would have an excuse to run out and leave. There had to be someone whom she could go to for help that wouldn't end with her being locked up or something worse for having that telepathic sword in the shop.

[The Raven Basilards]

The basilard thought, chewing on its last bit of bread. She had demonstrated a rather underwhelming reaction. When the basilard informed the average mortal about that, the usual response was to go wide-eyed with fear or awe. Occasionally, it had endured snarky remarks about how cliché it was. But only rarely had it encountered mortals who had the gall to sound bored.

It swallowed, consuming the last of the bread. Using the boy’s free arm, it moved to place the tray on the tabletop near it, where it appeared to belong if the stack of other trays was any indication. It was impossible for her to have not heard it. Telepathy simply did not work like that.

So then, it fell to its judgment to weigh the possible risks and rewards of the situation. Food in the morning would be healthy for the child, and it could not afford to risk this body. On the other hand, staying might pose a greater danger. She was puradyne and likely to turn it over to the government. If even one guardsman came upon it while its host body was sleeping, there was no chance of the malnourished boy escaping.

Not unless it rigged events in its favor. It would be able to tell if she left the building thanks to its sense of her mind. And if she did so, it could prepare. With proper compulsion, it could even reduce the chances of any such attempt at all.

Very well, mage, It said, no longer shying away from the title. It now wanted her to be as aware of that fact as possible. I place my trust in you for this one night. My trust is not given without condition, however. I wish it to be understood that if I should fall into the hands of the government, I will ensure that the same fate is visited upon you.

It stood before bowing slightly in a somewhat dated manner. What little it understood of human politeness came from its last possession, centuries ago. There is no malice in me, mage. Either courtesy or aggression will be returned in kind. It paused briefly, craning its neck to a door it assumed led to stairs. The bed in question is upstairs, correct?