Two matters brought the paladin to the alchemist's door, one concerning the little Lady that ate his hours, the other so breathtakingly private that he would never mention it frankly to a soul. Always ill at ease in the warmth of the southern lands, his concerns made him feel shameful beneath the Sun. Ivan played a game with himself, a cynic's form of fortune telling, guessing who would uncover his secrets and decry him as a grotesque. And grotesque he was, eager to solve the problem of Aksinya's sleepless nights. When she slept, she was irresistible in her lassitude, her languor and loose limbs.
As he knocked at the door, he kept to the sanctity of his private mind. None knew his thoughts, and he relished in this fact.
"It is I, Ivan Ostreyalsk, come to call on the education of Lady Saesalyssa Runa Vesaksalka." All the while imagining her parted lips.
It was not but a moment before the heavy wood of the door was pulled open, revealing on the obverse side the alchemist, whose hair of sunny blond was always marred by the darkness of his dress and the circles under his eyes. From behind him crept a sort of bodiless company, curious tendrils of a thick, earthy smoke that sought freedom from the confines of the cramped workspace, and as a frustrated hand stretched out to banish that ephemeral pest from the aether, his blue eyes looked upon the sight of his appointment.
"Forgive me, sir," Alois said, tongue of the north, "My sage had gotten out of hand. Do come inside, I will open a window."
The offer extended in words was matched by gesture. The alchemist opened the door wider and moved to the window, as promised.
"Thank you," said Ivan, echoing the use of their own language and entering the room with his fencer's grace. The smoke fascinated him as much as it choked. "I hope my appointment does not impose on your research. Truly, the advances made by you and your ilk are due great respect."
"Not at all. I just lose track of the sun when I'm working," Alois reassured as he pushed the panes of said glass apart. He turned back to the paladin, extending a hand to a pair of cushions made from stitched together animal pelts on opposite sides of a low table near that open sill. "Please sit."
Returning, again, to the door to close it involved the alchemist moving past his curious collection of belongings-- his dusty books and precariously arranged desk of glassware. He paused there on the way back to pour a premixed solution, warm and steaming, into a cup. "Tea before we start?"
"Of course," said the knight, taking a seat as instructed. "Though I have heard tales..." Strange tales he felt no need to mention, mostly involving bizarre tricks of the mind. Ivan cleared his throat. "To begin, I must inquire as to your experience as a tutor. Particularly of young women."
"Tales. Naturally." Alois poured a second cup and joined his visitor. "Here, I will be completely honest with you: kava and mint, but it's not very strong. It's relaxing and will stay with you for a while, so if you have some people to rough up later, I recommend abstinence, lest you wind up a bit more forgiving than was originally intended."
Aside from sipping from his own cup, the alchemist was very still in his seat, and very focused on his company. "I've no experience with young girls, though in my childhood I did have a younger sister that I looked after. Otherwise, my tutoring skills are sharp. I've worked with many in the Asklepian since the start of my membership."
Ivan's fondness for drink was, perhaps, uncharacteristic of his typical control, and he figured Alois' brew would be no different. He took a sip and found the taste curious, exactly as he had expected from the young man in dark robes.
"A younger sister? I'm sure she is quite lovely. But yes, your reputation proceeds you. I will be honest in turn -- your selection today, for the position I discussed in my letter, depends on two things. Primarily, my appraisal of your character. Lady Runa is clever as a cat is clever, but she is naïve."
Alois tilted his head a small degree. "She's no longer amongst the realm of the living, so it would be entirely misleading for me to allow you to believe this was something recent. It's been many years, but, be that as it may, I hope you'll judge my character worthy." The thought of it was almost thrilling.
Ivan furrowed his brow at the misstep, inwardly berating himself for failing to heed the past tense of the matter. As much as he'd like it, not all young girls could live forever, or even grow into womanly beauty. There was always sickness and death.
"Please forgive me," he implored, sipping his tea beneath a furrowed brow. "I suppose I shall ask my favor, then. It is regarding my wife, Aksinya. At times, sleep eludes her."
"Apologies are not necessary; I did not mention it for sympathy, but merely for clarification." The alchemist's sentiments were clearly read upon his neutral face, matched in his calm, level tone. Life was a circle that spun around, and death only natural before another life of bones anew followed those scorched back into the soil of the earth.
"About you wife," Alois continued, "Have you tried any remedies so far? Any particular cures that have previously failed, or is this your first time seeking a solution for this problem?"
Ivan thought at length. The question quickly went from whether to lie, to how deeply. How severely. "I am not sure how intelligently I can answer that question... We have tried the usual. A strong drink, warm baths...certain teas, made with chamomile. But she wishes to fall asleep...quickly, and sleep soundly, as any delay robs her of time with our daughter the following morning."
Really, it was paper thin.
"I see… one moment, please." Sitting his cup down, Alois stood and moved to a tall cabinet to the side of his desk whose front was a multitude of small drawers. With some commotion he searched through a few, intent on locating a certain bottle that had been previously stowed away, and only when he was victorious, did he return to the knight.
Left upon the center of the table was a small, incredibly small glass bottle whose stopper was a round orb that caught nearby glints of light and reflected it back into the room. Half-full, enclosed was a thick golden mixture that was not unlike syrup with its lulled movement. The alchemist explained. "I think you will find this serum to your liking. It is made of a combination of poppy extract, passiflora, and honey. I recommend taking it straight rather than diluting to spend more time tasting it. It's an entirely humbling tincture, I've found; aside from the aid in sleeping, the passiflora will help dissolve any lingering anxieties, especially if given time to build up. Now, I know that this is not a lot, but try it," long fingers pushed the bottle closer to his guest, "and if you find it to your liking, then I will happily concoct you more. Apologies if this is rude, but… ah, is your wife a small woman?"
At the expertise shown and the elegance of the serum, Ivan raised his brows. How such educated men impressed him -- though he knew his station served him well.
"She is of average height, for a Northern woman, but very lithe..."
"Give her a drop that is approximately the size of her thumbnail. Much more, and the effects will start turning to the adverse. Nothing dangerous, assuming you won't drink the entire bottle in a sitting; mostly an upset stomach. Also, the sleep is deep. Do not be alarmed."
Relieved he wasn't forced to ask suspicious questions, Ivan took another sip of the tea. Whether the alchemist's assurance had soothed him or the substance itself was unclear, but his confidence in Alois would be clear by morning.
"One more question, before I leave you to your studies -- If she has a frightful dream during the night, will she remember it, or will the serum make her forget such things?"
Alois shook his head softly. "It is more likely that the tincture will push her past the point of dreams and nightmares. Into straight darkness, where nothing thrives; no light nor life, a sky without stars until the sun rolls around to greet the world again."
The picture Alois painted was velvet blue and beautiful, more ideal than Ivan could have hoped. He had never wished Aksinya a moment of suffering -- on the contrary, he did all her could to give her pleasure. And when his desire was too awkward and profane to please her, as it often was by nature, he would wait 'til she was horribly drunk, bound to forget any trespass by morning. Surely Aksinya knew, though he was careful to be neat, but she said nothing.
His consultation with the alchemist was only to make the ritual easier for her, perhaps even pleasant in somnolence. Ivan smiled and traced the rim of his cup with a hilt callused thumb.
"Thank you, Alois. I will see what the lady thinks of these drops, and write you when I am decided."
"You're welcome, Sir Ivan" the blond said, the hints of a smile lurking at the corners of his lips. "I hope your wife is able to get the rest she requires, and I look forward to your letter."
A curt nod. "I'll take my leave, then. A fine day to you, scholar."
And the paladin left, languid limbs and dreamless sleep on his mind.