News may not travel as far or fast in Nova Regnus as it did in their home world, yet Tris and Imra had still managed to catch wind of the plague that was sweeping the realm. Artorias had been kind enough to send a letter to where they were staying, one which Imra still kept folded in her book. It warned them. Told them of the disease and of its origins.
“I wish we would have talked it through more,” Imra said, a cautious glance cast over her shoulder as the pair made their way towards the dimly lit doorway of the tavern. “Laya asked me what I thought of opening the portal. It felt like we were being pressured into it.” One hand brushed back the hair that had fallen into her face, and Imra looked back over to her long-time friend and confidante. Tris’ bag was overflowing with herbs and flowers, recently harvested from their careful planting experiment along the magical veins that ran throughout the land.
Another strong breeze blew through them, and Tris tightened her cloak around her shoulders. The healer was determined though. A plague was no laughing matter; they had to demolish it as fast and as thoroughly as possible. Tris readjusted her makeshift mask made from clean linen bandages, and handed one to Imra as they walked. “If we can observe the affliction closely enough, I may be able to come up with a more natural and widespread cure.” Both women looked at one another for a moment, pausing before the door to the tavern. “Magic isn’t the end-all be-all, Imra. I don’t trust it when healing a person...not fully.” That had been a mild point of contention between the friends even in Sylbion, Imra’s warmage training had always left an uneasy feeling in the pit of the herbalist’s stomach. But they complemented each other well in that their opposing ideologies let them see the issue in a more complex and complete light.
“I know, Tris.” A confident hand was clapped on the herbalist’s shoulder before Imra pushed open the tavern door. Already, the setting was a welcome change. She broke from her friend only long enough to purchase warm meals and cold beverages for the both of them, a polite smile and generous tip left behind after paying. “Hope you’re fond of stew,” Imra commented, not noticing at first that Tris was staring at a decree posted on the wall. “Tris?” The mage looked around, spotting her friend who looked to be just a touch paler than normal.
“There’s...an amulet,” Tris said low, hands gripped tight around the strap of her satchel.
Imra’s brow furrowed and she ushered the woman to the side, giving the parchment a cursory once-over. Her lips moved silently as she read K’s decree. Familiar names were listed, but the most important part was that amulet. Wide-eyed, the women returned to their table and started to quickly dig in to their food. “If it was broken once before,” Tris said softly,” What’s preventing it again?”
There was a healthy dose of fear behind those words, and as they finished their meal both Imra and Tris continued to go over more of what they might need to make Tris’ herbs more potent and powerful. “Information,” Imra said. “Above all else, we need information.” The woman poked at a stray potato with a fork and hummed. “But how…”
Tris could only smile, for once having a surprise for Imra rather than the reverse being the case. “Oh, I have a way.”
“Do you?”
“Just an old friend you’ll be happy to see.”
It took a moment, but Imra’s eyed lit up at the insinuation. A little too excitedly, she grabbed Tris’ forearm and beamed. Maybe this wasn’t all lost after all.
