Prelude to Another Day

Yew studied the black chalice on her desk as if it would spontaneously grow teeth and bite her arm off. For all the trouble it had caused, it was perfectly inert now. Suspiciously inert. As if it had only ever been a somewhat plain and shiny cup in an extremely outdated style. The most curious aspect was the lack of magical residue; the curse should have left something behind on the chalice, some trace that a spell had passed through it or come from it. She poked it with a stray pencil. Nothing happened.

“Maybe the magic completely discharged? What material is this? Is there a material with perfect conductivity?” Viola stood on her right, also inspecting the former artifact. Viola looked across to Salix standing on the opposite side. Yew had conscripted the two of them to help her investigate the cup after her own prodding hadn’t turned up anything useful. Their specializations were far more pertinent than hers in this matter; Viola studied the enchantments of ancient artifacts and Salix studied their materials and construction. Yew’s focus on runes and runic evolution left a glaring hole in the shape of a pretentious cup within the landscape of her mind.

“Theoretically, yes, but that’s about as likely as discovering a perfect null material. Unrealistic at best. You may as well look for an Erudite’s Foil instead, if you’re in the habit of impossible tasks.” Salix scoffed at the thought. Viola seemed to find it funny, so Yew suspected it was one of those artificer jokes she occasionally overheard.

“Could it be location dependent? You said it did all its cursing in some kind of ruins, right? And nothing else since?” Yew nodded.

“Not so much as a single peep out of it since,” Yew supplied. Viola furrowed her brow, humming.

“How unusual, what an interesting artifact…” Her eyes gleamed a little as she looked at the chalice. Yew moved a hand to block her view, unimpressed.

“We can’t keep it. I promised we would destroy it,” she reasserted. Viola suddenly appeared shy, but Yew secretly thought it was an act. She narrowed her eyes at the younger woman, refusing to buy what she was selling. Salix snorted at them, in the way she only ever allowed of herself within their department building. Viola pouted.

“I know,” she sighed, “but can’t you let a girl dream? What if I waved a hitherto unknown rune in your face and then said ‘let’s burn it!’, I get why you have to destroy this one in particular, but I’d love to play around with it more.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I understand.” Yew sympathized, the idea of throwing away a perfectly good rune was atrocious enough to send shivers racing along her spine.

“It’s still metal,” Salix noted, “you could try melting it?” Yew shook her head; it didn’t melt, not at the temperatures she could produce. “And you already tried purifying it?”

“Yeah. Every last variant I could think of, from several different eras.” They gasped.

“But that’s like, at least 500 spells? We’ve only had this for a day, did you sleep last night?” Viola nudged her. Yew stared into the middle distance.

“Six. Hundred. Thirty. Four. To be exact, and no. I am running on ‘hopes and dreams and a medically inadvisable amount of caffeine’ as Astilbe would say.” Yew smoothed a hand over her head, pausing to stress squeeze one of her hair buns.

“What would I say?” The devil himself appeared. Yew dragged her exhausted eyes up just in time to watch Asitlbe half-flounce-half-float over to their small gathering. “And what’s with the cup? You all look like it killed somebody and you aren’t sure if you should go through with the trial or skip straight to the execution-” He stuck a finger out to touch it.

“That’s because it did,” Yew responded, still lost in the murkiness of her sleep-deprived head. Astilbe yanked his hand back like he hand just touch fire instead of a frustrating problem of an artifact. He stared, wide-eyed, jumping between her and the cup and his hand.

“This is the chalice you told me about? The chalice? The one you made the head city authority confiscate on your behalf from that viscount?” He avoided touching it again, but leaned all around it dramatically as if viewing it from every possible angle would reveal some hidden truth about it.

“Yes. It’s been more troublesome than expected.”

“I still can’t believe you sent the constable on a fetch-quest for you.” He shook his head in bemusement.

“Mmh, well, I can’t afford to get on any more noble’s bad sides this close to the ball.”

“Right,” Salix interjected, “the professor forbid you from even talking to any nobles until the event itself.”

“I don’t see why you had to involve the constable, of all people, there wasn’t anyone else? Anyone at all?” He emphasized by sharply raising his eyebrows. 

“Well, he owed me a favor,” she defended.

“For what?!” All three of them chorused together in disbelief, cup temporarily neglected upon the desk.

“The usual.” She didn’t see why that was so strange, they knew she did exorcisms outside of official quests from time to time. Technically, she’d done a lot of people favors, even without including the strays she collected from ruins-mishaps. Yew shifted her weight, causing one of her many bells to jingle slightly.

“Of course,” Astilbe chuckled.

“Even so, you used a personal favor with the constable to collect a single artifact, which you could have legally confiscated anyway?” Viola looked at her as if she had done something particularly odd and inscrutable, like pulling out a fistful of cooked noodles from her pocket and making a sandwich or rubbing butter all over her face.

“What else should I have used it for?” She was confused.

Viola shook her head, “not for an errand. At least commit a crime!” She froze as if she hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. “I mean,” voice abruptly turning soft and meek to compensate, “surely there are better ways to make use of the constable’s abilities...hahah.” The pause was deafening. Salix set a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting her gently.

“Never change.” Salix smiled. “You too, Yew, you’re fine just the way you are.” Yew didn’t fully understand, but the words made her feel warm as much as they irrationally sparked up irritation within her.

Yew appreciated the degree to which her friends accepted her, but she wanted to understand. It wasn’t quite as awful as the feeling she got when she was expected to just know certain things, but perpetual confusion wasn’t exactly comfortable. Yew pursed her lips, trying to calm down before she accidentally worked herself up and snapped at Salix unfairly. A finger tapped the desk where she was absently staring a hole into it. She traced along it and up into Astilbe’s brown eyes.

‘Later,’ he mouthed to her. He would explain it to her if she still wanted to know. The little promise caused her sudden upset to evaporate. It was mysterious how quickly she could go from calm to upset to calm again with a few words from others. One last exhale swept away the remaining feelings, so she turned her attention back to the chalice.

“If there’s no good way to destroy it, or if it needs to be at its location of origin, I suppose I’ll put it in the dangerous artifact storage vault for now.” Yew decided to put it aside for now. She could make a trip to the underground ruins it came from after the patronage ball in a couple weeks. “Since it’s strongly connected to undead, I might need to clear out those tombs first or something before I can destroy it.” Yew nodded as if to agree with herself.

“Only you would say that like it's a weekend chore,” Salix mused, “just clear them all out, she says. Unspeakable evil? Mummy cult? No big deal.”

“Mummies are pretty flammable. It’s rather light work.” Yew grinned just because she could, deeply enjoying the groans she received.