Foxglove
Mido stands beneath the overhang, watching the servants and guards move about the estate frantically. There is no organization or guidance. His attempt to reach out to Nina has proved futile. When he whispered the incantation, it seemed to connect, only to fizzle out with his first words. He wonders if he should run for the shrine and try to gather the acolytes, or if he should stay and see if he can heal Lumi’s wounds.
When Augustus returned some nights ago and told him about his meeting with Khimi, Mido could only imagine how the conversation between the two had gone. Since their arrival, he had followed every command and whim of Saint Nina, doing everything in his power to appease the gods. Rumors had run through Rhaz about the Saint of Flames’ arrival, and Nina sought to provide Lumi with as many comforting and familiar faces she could manage. Mido suspected that Augustus’ meeting with Khimi was more forced than he let on, but he pushed his suspicions behind him.
Augustus pushes against Mido’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about it,” He whispers quietly, brushing soot from his chiton.
“I just wish I could have done more,” Mido whispers while his short-cropped tail wags swiftly. “We should get Saint Nina, she could put this fire out in a heartbeat.”
“Do you want me to run to the shrine?” Augustus asks, “I’ve seen guards dispatched already, though.”
Mido looks up at the black smoke, “I think one of us should go, I can check in on Lumi…and you’re fast enough on your feet. Someone needs to do something before the fire spreads,” he says hurriedly, looking about the courtyard.
“Alright then,” Augustus murmurs. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe, okay? We still don’t know what happened tonight.”
Mido sighs, his pointed ears twitching. “I-I feel terrible about Rashid,” he whispers. “The look in Khimi’s eyes…he’s not who I expected. I…feel like a piece of shi–”
Augustus claps his hand hard against Mido’s back and smiles. He leans against the rough sandstone wall. “I told you,” he says confidently, “he’s not who we thought he was.”
Mido nods, considering Augustus’ words. “You might be right,” he admits. “B-but I just want to know more about him.”
Augustus scoffs, “You sound unsure.”
Mido shakes his head. “It’s not doubt….It’s jus—”
Augustus gasps, interrupting Mido. “You’re feeling guil—”
“It isn’t guilt,” Mido snorts, “It’s just that…all that time, I told everyone how horrible of a person he was. I shouldn’t have judged him before I knew him. I just thought he was going to hurt him…”
“But he didn’t,” Augustus reminds him gently. “And Lumi has been safe with him since then, and they care for each other.”
“We shouldn’t be discussing this now,” Mido croaks, hitting his forehead with his palm as they watch the chaos unfolding around them.
Augustus sighs, “I think now’s as good a time as any. Nina made mention that she wanted us to keep an eye on Lumi for her. And I heard guards saying they were going to the shrine. We have plenty of time.”
They stand in silence, observing the servants rushing back and forth to protect the estate’s belongings from the impending fire. Mido leans against the wall and lets out a heavy breath, closing his eyes, while Augustus strokes his fingers through his dark locks comfortingly.
“Did you exhaust yourself?” Augustus asks, looking down at Mido with concern.
“I’m fine,” Mido interrupts, taking in a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to come here to do magick, I just wasn’t prepared.”
Someone clears their throat from down the arched path, an elderly serving woman with her hands wrapped tightly in her smock. “Lord Zeybek wishes to have you seen to your chambers,” she says with a quick and modest bow.
“We’ll be leaving shortly, we couldn’t possibly impose ourselves upon him with everything going on,” Mido replies quickly. “We don’t want to be any trouble.”
“We’ll stay the night,” Augustus says, looking at Mido with a look of confusion. “We wouldn’t want to turn away the lord’s hospitality, would we?” He asks with a knowing grin. “Is he well?”
“He’s a bit…occupied at the moment. His—Lumi isn’t doing very well,” she says, her eyes look down at the sandstone cobbles.
Mido steps from the wall, “I can see him,” he says suddenly. “As I said, I know some healing,” he offers, gesturing back towards the hallway. “I can try to tend to his wounds to the best of my abilities.”
The elderly woman nervously wipes her brow, “A-alright,” she mutters. “We’ve been waiting for an acolyte from the shrine, but none have arrived.”
“I-I am training to be a cleric,” Mido whispers to the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “You can show Augustus to the room though…”
Augustus stares at Mido from the corner of his eye and steps beside him. “I’d be happy to see the rest of Khimi’s home if you’d be kind enough to show me,” he says with a charming grin.
The woman smiles and turns, holding her gown, “The estate is in a bit of disarray, but we’ll have stonemasons and carpenters working on the morrow I am sure,” she says, steeling herself.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Augustus says while he follows behind the woman. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling…”
The woman nods but maintains her silence. She wipes her cheek with her blouse briefly and leads them through passageways and courtyards until they arrive outside a small storage room. Two guards stand outside the room along with several servants who break bread over a wooden table. Each of them looks up from the table with a somber expression. The woman opens the door and pushes past a beaded curtain. Mido follows behind through the curtain, spotting Khimi on the edge of the bed. A pale man with black shaggy hair stands off to the side in tattered robes.
The woman bows to Khimi, “Your young friend wishes a word,” she whispers.
Khimi turns from the bed and looks up at Mido. Dark shadows hang about his eyes, his copper cheeks are red and puffy, “Candela, please take Marko from the room,” he says in a hushed tone, his brow pinched.
The woman, Candela, holds the door and motions with a snap of her fingers, “I believe Lord Zeybek would like you to leave for the time being,” she says to the man with a certain sternness.
Marko waves a hand with a disgruntled look on his face, then leaves the room with a sore expression. “I shall be in the room next door, should you have need of me,” he grumbles.
Candela taps Augustus on the shoulder, “Young man, shall I show you to the room?”
Augustus’s eyes are fixed on Khimi and Lumi, “I’m sorry,” he whispers apologetically to Khimi once the severity of the situation strikes him. “I’ll leave Mido with you. You can trust him.”
Khimi swallows hard and nods. His eyes flick to Mido, “Can you help him?” he pleads quietly, after the door shuts behind Augustus.
Mido approaches the bed cautiously. “Maybe, but I might need some time alone with him,” he whispers and reaches into the satchel to pull out a small censor and the platinum-plated tome.
“I can’t,” Khimi says, watching Mido palm through the tome, “I can’t leave him,” he whispers, then turns back to Lumi. “But…if you can help him. Please.”
Mido steps closer to Lumi, “I know…that you think I don’t like you. B-but perhaps I was too hasty before,” he mutters in a faint whisper. He sits on the edge of the bed next to Khimi, his body turned to face Lumi. “But I just need to focus.”
There is a cold sweat forming over Lumi’s brow, his skin glistening in the light from the lamp over him. Mido pushes his palm over Lumi’s forehead and brings his face closer to Lumi’s. He can feel Khimi staring through him, but he knows there is no time to wait. Lumi’s eyelids are red and puffy, his lips blue. There are a few things that come across Mido’s mind. Maybe he breathed in smoke, he thinks briefly before he forces Lumi’s eyelid open. Khimi’s hand shoots across the bed and grabs Mido’s shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Khimi asks bluntly.
“Checking his eyes,” Mido replies, continuing once Khimi releases his grip.
Mido opens the lid and assesses Lumi’s condition, noticing his labored breathing. Yet, Mido can not make sense of it, he is no trained chirurgeon. When they arrived at the estate, they were told Lumi fell from the balcony during the fire. He wasn’t breathing in smoke, Mido thinks to himself.
The scent wafting from Lumi’s lips is familiar and floral, but he struggles to place it. As a servant of the Helvia family, gardening had been one of his duties and he prided himself on the knowledge of flora. The fragrance brings to mind the trumpet flower, found only in the southern regions of Loria. The vibrant petals exude a powerful, sweet aroma which lingers long after its gone. But with its beauty also comes danger – the trumpet flower is infamous for carrying a deadly poison within its delicate structure. Mido recalls the numerous warnings from his fellow servants at the Heliva Estate about the dangerous plants they tended to. Could it be…poison? The thought sends a tingle of alarm jolting through his body.
“May I speak with the chirurgeon who was treating him?” Mido asks carefully. “It’s important.”
Khimi narrows his brow, “Alright…but if you need to confer about anything, I am staying here,” he says quietly. “The man is strangely persistent, but the guards gave credence to his story. He was outside the gates during the fire.”
Mido shakes his head, “I just need a moment to speak with him,” he whispers in response, his ears standing up on point. “I’m curious about what type of poppy he might have given Lumi,” he adds cautiously.
Khimi sighs, then rises to his feet. “Mido, don’t make me regret leaving you alone with him.”
Mido’s eyes meet Khimi’s, his dark almond eyes stare into Khimi’s deep blues. “Lumi will be safe, I promise,” he replies, a faltering smile on his lips.
Khimi clenches his jaw, “I’ll be right back,” he mutters before leaving Mido alone in the room.
Mido passes his hand over Lumi’s brow. Lumi is so much smaller than him, with a boyish charm about him. With a cautious hand, Mido brushes Lumi’s blond hair from his eyes, then moves his hand over his lips. He knows that if he leaves Lumi like this, there is a chance he would die, but there is so little he can do within his power. What happened to you? He wonders, tilting Lumi’s head towards him. Lumi groans in his sleep, moving slightly, his broken hand reaches for his abdomen.
Mido grabs the broken wrist and holds it firmly. Part of his training with Eustes involved setting bones and fractures for more efficient healing. With a grimace on his face, he prepares himself; a loud snap fills the room and Lumi lets out a loud whimper before his head rolls to the side. Mido’s fingers wrap around Lumi’s tan wrist while he whispers an incantation. A warm glow emanates over the wound. The bruise remains, but the visible deformation smooths steadily.
“Lumi…” Mido whispers. “Does he make you happy?” he asks, taking Lumi’s wrist in his hand.
The door opens suddenly and Mido sits up straight, “I believe Lumi is on the mend,” he says quietly, focusing on Lumi’s perspiring brow.
Khimi raises an eyebrow, “Is he truly better?”
“H-he will be,” Mido replies, forcing himself to make an unnerving smile. “The miracles of magick,” he adds softly.
Marko looks to Khimi and places a hand on his shoulder, “A moment, Lord Zeybek. I’d like a word with the acolyte…if you’d please give us a moment to confer alone?”
Mido nods to Khimi with. “It’ll be alright, Khimi,” he says uncomfortably.
Khimi crosses his arms, “I told you I wasn’t going to leave his side,” he says, looking between the two. “I said if you need to confer, that I would stay.”
“It’ll be quick,” Mido says, his hand slides into the leather satchel. His fingers brush over the handle of his shotel. He turns back to Lumi and brings his fingers just beneath Lumi’s nostrils. “His breathing is returning to normal.”
Discomfort is plain on Marko’s face. “Yes,” he nods, “It’ll just be a moment,” he says, tucking his hands up the sleeves of his robes.
Khimi nods at Mido, “I’ll be outside the door…if you need me,” he says, eying the chirurgeon suspiciously.
Mido watches from the corner of his eye and shifts from the bed at Khimi’s departure. The oil lamp flickers with a soft light. The air is hot and uncomfortable, sweat drips across his body in his anxiousness. Quiet footsteps approach Mido from behind. Nervously, he grabs hold of the hilt to the shotel in his satchel.
“Poison?” Mido asks in a whisper. His sense of smell as a canis is keen enough that he can easily identify the familiar floral notes, and with every moment, he comes closer to identifying the source.
Marko croaks, “I’ve not the slightest idea what you’re referring to.”
“Really?” Mido asks, turning back to the chirurgeon. Bringing his nose near to Lumi’s lips, he whispers, “I’m fairly certain I haven’t lost my sense of smell…and you’ve been attending to him for a few hours now.”
“It couldn’t be that he was poisoned some hours prior?” Marko asks, shifting on his heels. “I mean no offense to your nose, canis, but who are you?”
Mido ignores him, “They said he was screaming and shouting…that he was given something to help him sleep?” Mido asks, his hand extended towards Marko.
“I’m afraid I used the last bit,” Marko whispers coolly. “It took quite a lot to put him to sleep,” he adds.
Mido does not trust a single word that passes through Marko’s lips, “Right, then you still have the bottle?”
“Certainly,” Marko whispers. He begins to dig through his robes. “It’s around here somewhere.”
“Even if you find it,” Mido begins in a hushed tone. “It doesn’t matter,” he adds, standing from the edge of the bed. He releases Lumi’s hand. “You did this, didn’t you?” He asks with a throaty and nervous croak.
Marko’s brow furrows, his hand shoved deep into his sleeve. “Hells,” he mutters under his breath. “Fine, you want to accuse me…here’s the bloody sedative,” he grumbles. His hands slide from within his sleeve, revealing the glass bottle and dropper.
Mido does not need to smell the contents of the bottle to know that it is poison, he truly does not even need to see it. Marko’s fluttering heartbeat is enough to tell Mido the truth. He’s lying. The room grows tense while the two glare across the room from one another. Mido’s fingers grip the handle of his shotel in anticipation, while he extends his other hand and waits for the vial. Sweat drips across the chirurgeon’s brow.
Marko’s lips twitch, “Come now, what’s your game?” he asks, his hoarse voice suddenly becoming gravelly.
“So you’re a performer now?” Mido asks. Suddenly, he wishes that Augustus was with him.
“Best you shut them lips, boy,” Marko chides, tossing the bottle at Mido.
Mido remains still, the bottle soars through the air before it crashes on the sandstone tiles before him. The vile splashes on the floor and across his sandaled feet. Marko’s movements are quick, the reflexes expected of an assassin. A dirk slides from inside his sleeve with a quick shrug of his shoulders. He catches it in his hand and tosses it expertly.
Mido had expected Marko would grow impatient. His fingers squeeze the hilt of his blade, the dagger clanks against the wall behind Mido. The shotel slides from the satchel, and he crosses the room with a quickness, meeting Marko in the center. Steel clashes against steel, and Mido feels his lack of combat experience while the assailant pushes against him with the smallest amount of effort. Mido fights with every ounce of strength to keep Marko back from Lumi, but he all too quickly finds his arms growing weak. With a yelp, Mido pushes against the assassin’s dagger and shouts. A look of utter surprise comes across the man’s face, his dark eyes look up at Mido from beneath his shaggy hair. He pushes the dirk in his hand against the curved shotel unsuccessfully.
The door opens with an explosive bang, Khimi appears with a cook’s blade in his hand. Mido holds his ground, the assassin glances back at Khimi before making a dive at Lumi. Mido slashes while the man passes him, but it is Khimi who appears with a sudden ferocity. With the single edged blade in hand, Khimi stabs the blade into Marko’s back repeatedly. Blood splatters across the floor in dark red lines, flecks of red mist fly around them with each violent stab. Marko’s dirk clatters to the ground, and Mido’s body shakes nervously, watching the horrific scene before him. There is a heat in Khimi’s eyes, his brows furrowed. The blade had already done it’s work, but Khimi does not stop, he holds onto Marko, stabbing into him a dozen times. Marko’s eyes roll back into his head, his body slumps to the floor, the kitchen knife jammed in his back.
Khimi stands over him, breathing through his mouth, blood splattered across the entirety of his form.
“Hells!” Khimi whispers through his teeth, “I bloody knew it. I fucking knew it!”
Mido looks up from the mess on the tiles, “I-I wanted to tell you,” he stutters, his eyes meeting Khimi’s briefly before he turns to Lumi. “I didn’t want to scare him by having too many people in the room.”
“Lumi…” Khimi whispers. “What was it? What did he give him!?” He inquires with an intense heat in his voice.
“Some kind of poison…a trumpet flower; foxglove. Something like that…at least I think,” Mido replies. “If he was alone with him longer…I think we would have been too late.”
Khimi maintains his silence and stares at Mido. “You can’t ju—”
“I’m sorry!” Mido shouts, lowering his head. “I just wasn’t thinking…I thought I could handle it.”
Khimi kneels over Marko’s still body and pulls the blade from his back, letting it clatter to the floor by his boot. He tosses the assassin’s dirk away from the body, then presses his fingers against the side of his neck, checking for any signs of life. Blood pools beneath the tattered rags.
“Does he look familiar to you?” Khimi asks, glancing up at Mido. He seems to study Mido cautiously.
“No, I’ve never seen him,” Mido whispers, resting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand over Lumi’s brow.
Khimi flips the man onto his back and pushes the man’s robes aside, revealing a poorly formed tattoo just beneath his collar. The robe opens to reveal several more daggers inside, thrust into makeshift pockets.
“Are you familiar with these markings?” Khimi asks, glancing back at Mido. The tattoo sits just above the collar bone and extends to the middle of the neck. “I’ve never seen it.”
Mido looks thoughtfully, “I think he’s a marine. Loria’s seawolf legion often marks their own with tattoos. I think it shows their fondness for the sea.” He whispers and continues to look over the whimpering boy. “Lumi has more color in his lips, maybe he’ll be okay.”
Khimi continues his search, “I guess I owe you my thanks,” he says. The buttons from the linen shirt tear loose, the fabric rips open from Khimi’s aggressive pull. “But I’d still be thankful if the saint was able to look over him.”
“I am glad for your thanks,” Mido says calmly. “But I did it for Lumi,” he says calmly. “None of those other markings look familiar. But I at least know that he was likely part of the Lorian legions.”
Khimi gazes down at the pale skinned man’s markings. Dozens of tattoos across his chest and stomach, written with names and dates. “I think some names are ships.”
Mido looks up with sudden recognition. He had heard of something similar when crossing through the Lorian city of Rigo. A barmaid once told him of a sailor who had similar markings. “He’s definitely a corsair from the Lorian coast, then,” he says quickly. “They are known to mark themselves after a capture or kill. Do you think that’s what these are?”
Khimi looks down at the man, tilting his head curiously. “I wonder if he would have written Lumi’s name?” He asks himself quietly, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
“We’ll never know…besides it doesn’t matter because he’s dead anyway. Why would someone want to hurt Lumi?” Mido whispers, his eyes flickering back at Khimi. “Is it because he is the Saint of Flames?”
“No,” Khimi whispers. “W-well, maybe, but I had my own rivals before,” he replies as he sits back onto the tiles and watches Mido tend to Lumi. “Lumi just seems to bring more danger.”
“Is it because of Emir Ziad?” Mido asks quietly. “I heard what Rashid said… and I know he’s your father.”
Mido had always known of the Zeybek name. Even in the capital, it is a name that is synonymous with the wealth and power of the Desert Cities. Mido had learned when he arrived in the Desert Cities that Ziad is well respected but feared by the populace of the Desert Cities. A man who is said to control the flow of coin from the north to Dolmas.
Khimi sighs, “Damnit,” he mutters under his breath. “As much as I don’t want to speculate…I can only assume these are Ziad’s assassins.”
“Y-your father wants to kill you?” Mido asks, shocked by the revelation.
“Not me.”
“Lumi?” Mido questions quietly. “I mean…sure, it seems your relationship has made quite an impact with well…everyone. A human and beastkin living together as you do,” he says thoughtfully as he combs over Lumi’s fingers.
“Not like it’s done anything to serve us well,” Khimi mutters. He picks up the small dirk and rolls the blade over in his hand. “And as you heard from Augustus, I have beastkin blood within me. So our bond isn’t as special as people may believe.”
Mido raises his brow, “As do many people. They just don’t want to accept it…it doesn’t change who they are. Just the perception of who they are.”
“I accept my heritage,” Khimi whispers. “And…I accept that my father is responsible for this,” he adds, nodding at Lumi.
Mido nods and stretches Lumi’s fingers, a warm light radiates from his hand, and he runs it across Lumi’s digits. “What will you do? If he went this far…then he will try aga–”
“I know,” Khimi interrupts. “I know to what lengths Ziad will go to achieve his goals.”
“Goals?” Mido asks, turning back briefly to Khimi. “Why would he want to hurt Lumi? I don’t understand…” He pauses in a long silence before continuing, “Lumi…is a good person.”
Khimi tests the steel dirk in his hand, bending the blade slightly with his fingers. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“I—”
“Do you really?” Khimi interrupts.
“Y-yes,” Mido whispers. “Why…would Ziad want to hurt him?”
“Because Ziad can’t handle seeing anyone in his family happy,” Khimi snaps quickly. “Ziad hates beastkin. Because he needs me to be someone different…and he knows that as long as I am with Lumi…our lineage ends.”
Mido sighs, “All of this because he wants…?”
“An heir from me, someone to continue the line. Someone to control the Zeybek estate.”
Mido shakes his head in disbelief. “But…”
“Is that so hard to believe?” Khimi asks, suddenly stabbing the dirk into the man’s chest. The sound of the man’s chest caving in from the force causes Mido to jolt in surprise.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain falls. Heavy droplets slam against the thin windowpane above the daybed. The sizzling sound of the flames quenching rings out through the courtyard.
Mido looks up through the small window, the skies darken with heavy clouds. “Nina is here,” he says quietly. “I am…surprised someone would go through such lengths. That’s all…why doesn’t he just give up?”
“Because, Ziad always gets what he wants, and when he doesn’t…well no one does,” Khimi responds deep in contemplation. He forces himself to his feet and rips the blade lodged between Marko’s ribs. “I won’t let him hurt Lumi…on my life, I won’t let him hurt him.”
“You shouldn’t make such promises if you don’t intend to keep the–”
“Keep them?!” Khimi cuts him off in a growl, flipping the bloody dirk in his hand, “I intend to live by those words.”
Mido stands from the edge of the bed, “I-I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean it. It just – I just said it,” he stammers anxiously.
“You said what you said,” Khimi says with a hint of anger, “it doesn’t matter…I speak the truth. There is nothing more important in my life than Lumi. I’d leave all of this behind if I knew it would keep Lumi safe.”
Mido lets out a low grumble. “Won’t it? If you run away? He can’t chase you across the realm!” he says with a look of disbelief.
Khimi’s laughter is filled with anxiety, “You don’t know my father. There isn’t a stone he wouldn’t upturn to keep track of me. He does not care for the Faith, so Lumi’s title means little to nothing to him. Lumi would be nothing more than a casualty in his war of commerce and expansion.”
“You could bring him to the Sun Temple,” Mido begins softly, “As the voice of the gods of light and fire, it is the Saint of Flames’ duty to act as the figurehead for the Faithful in the empire,” Mido says excitedly, “Maybe…you could reach out to them, they could protect him.”
“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong,” Khimi mutters while he walks past Mido and sits on the edge of the small bed. Lumi’s lips are still blue, with a light pinkness about the edges. “Lumi said we couldn’t trust the Sun Temple. Or any priests or clerics of their order.”
Mido kneels next to Marko. “You’ve got to trust someone, Khimi,” he says finally. “You can trust Augustus and me. We both care about Lumi…and Nina cares and loves him like her own child. Everyone at the shrine speaks of Saint Nina’s favoritism.”
Khimi presses his forehead against Lumi’s. “Everyone wishes to use him, but no one wants to listen to his wishes,” Khimi says in a low growl. “He just…wants to be Lumi. He wants to be happy.”
“Khimi,” Mido whispers. “The gods chose Lumi to be the Saint of Flames…his destiny is greater than anything that you, or I can imagi–”
“Fuck his destiny!” Khimi growls bitterly with his teeth clenched, his brow still pressed against the Lumi’s. “Lumi just wants to be happy. Why can’t people…just let him be?”
Mido’s hand runs across his chest. The anguish and pain in Khimi’s words feel all too powerful. “H-he’s important, Khimi. He will become one of the most influential figures on Talmus…people need him,” he says softly. “If he goes to Lor–”
“I need him!” Khimi murmurs, cradling Lumi’s head. “We…have been making plans,” he whispers, “we are going to find a way to bind our souls. We are going to be together,” he utters quietly, repeating his last words between Lumi’s rounded ears.
“I’m…sorry,” Mido whispers, unsure of how to help.
The door opens slowly, and Saint Nina passes through the beaded curtain. Her eyes shine brightly with an otherworldly flash of light. The straight line on his lips fades to a frown while she looks back and forth from the man on the floor to Lumi and Khimi.
“Lumi,” Nina gasps.