"Mirianette, wake up!" Luistia called as she shook her sister awake. The young girl muttered in her half-awake stake, twisting her body away from Luistia and towards her thick cot. Bits of straw were starting to fall out-yet another task that she'd have to fix up later as Mirianette ran around doing other things. Most of it was still tightly bound, the individual strands weaved together to create a perfectly straight pad. "Ya have chores waiting on ya."

Mirianette groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Why don't you ever have chores to do? You never sweep, or clean, or do anything besides work on broken things and carry feed," she complained, her voice caught in her usual childish whine. "Bostrim and Leunk wanted me to help them this morn, you know! We're doing' highly important things!"

Luistia put her hands on her hips, muscles moving as she waited for her sister to get up. "I'm through arguing with you, young lady. Do your chores. Then, once they're finished, ya run off and play with whoever. Be cautious, it's still raining an' this storm doesn't look like it'll let up for the next couple'a days."

Mirianette groaned again, giving her sister a glare as she braided her hair in two parts. "Do you have any twine?" she asked.

"Yeah. Here," Luistia said, handing her the twine. Then, she walked out of the small room, leaving Mirianette to dress herself for the day. Luistia herself had donned some dark trousers and a nice blouse. She used to wear dresses the same as her sister, but once she started working for the wizard she found that the attire fitted her better for the jobs around the tower. Not only did she fix up the old clock-which hadn't been working for years before hand-she also fixed up his carriage and chairs around the places. The bookshelves were next, fixed into the walls and put higher up so to keep them from getting hurt. Most all of the wood was protected by magic, which she had to redo every couple of months to keep them safe from fire.

The smaller type magic, simple protection casts and charms, she could do easily. Whenever it came to actual spells and magical orbs and the like, she always found herself less interested and bored. Luistia's magic came from her father, weak and hardly good for actual wizardry. Her sister, on the other hand, never had shown any skill in magic before. She'd always been interested, but until the night prior no magic had actually worked its way through her.

Whatever Destrim had said during his spells must have been the case, Luistia assumed. Either way, she wasn't going to focus much on it. With his focus now on Mirianette, it meant that she had more time to get back to her work. Just the day before the storm had started she had stumbled upon a series of secret hallways. Most all of the latches were broken, and offered little to no protection if someone were to go looking for anyone down there. She had a few tools that would fix it, but she'd have to find time to go into the market to get the majority of them. Lucky for her, the market was only down the street.

With stiff shoulders, she made her way up the stairs to the wizard's room. There, he was sleeping with his door open. His skin was as thick as leather, but darker and closer to the color of burnt bark. Like a puppet, his mouth hung open as he breathed, little bits of spit dried on the corner of his lips. A blanket lay on the floor next to him from where he'd kicked it off the night prior. She chuckled slightly, leaning against the door frame and just watching him. In the past few year he'd aged more than she could have imagined, his body weakened from the constant strain of his magic. When she first became his assistant at the age of sixteen, almost seven full years prior, he seemed middle aged at most. Now, he looked to be on his death bed half the time. The other half he just looked old.

"Oh, Master Destrim, you might want ta wake up," she called in a sing-song voice.

He snorted, moving over to face the wall.

"Aw, come on now, old man. You know you've gotta get up. If ya don't drink your lemosta you'll get that cold 'gain," she reminded him. Luistia took a few steps into his room, caught whiff of a weeks old bottle of gin, and grimaced. "Have ya been drinking that nasty stuff again?"

Once again he snorted, awake but not wanting to get up just yet.

"I've told you a thousand times, Destrim, the more you drink that the worse off it'll make you in the morn."

He sat up at that, "I'm fine in the morn! And that's Master Destrim-"

She laughed heartily, "Yeah, yeah! Master Destrim, because you spent thirty winters and summers working ya butt off to earn that title and you're not gonna to lose it just because some assistant doesn't want ta call you by your title. I've heard it a thousand times. You've got more luck convincing Marian ta do her chores with a smile than ta get me to call you Master each and every time I address you."

Destrim gave her a hard stare, then coughed into his sleeve. "Help me get dressed. You runnin' off 'gain today?"

"That's the plan," she said. As she spoke she walked to his trunk, opening it up and pulling out a nice pair of trousers, his undershirt, his over-shirt, and his cloak. The material was grainy in parts, soft in others, but overall well made to suit him. She knew that the undershirt alone could keep a knife out of his chest, but of the quality of the rest she had no clue. "So, ya feeling blue or gray today?"

He coughed loudly.

"Sorry. Are ya feeling up for blue or gray today, Master?" The way she pronounced Master is as close to urchin talk as he's ever heard, and enough to cause him to smile briefly. Of course, only while she was still turned around and looking through his trunk.

"I'm thinking gray. It's a somber day, unless you couldn't tell."

"That it is. The weather's lookin' awful bad lately, isn't it? Wouldn't have anything to do with your spell casting last night, would it?" she asked, turning around to glance back at him as she gathered up his things. The old man shook his head no. "Well, not certain if I'm to believe you, but whatever you say. Arms up."

He lifted up his arms as she took off his bed shirt and slipped on his undershirt, then his gray over-shirt.

"You're gonna have ta stand now, Master," she told him with a sigh. "It'd make things a lot easier if you just took your lemosta every day as ya supposed to."

"That lemosta works less and less each time I take it, I tell you," he grumbled. With a cough he stood, loosening his belt and pulling down his trousers the best he could before she took them off the rest of the way and helped him into his day ones. "If you'd make it stronger-"

"If you'd stop complaining when I do-"

"Well, I would if you did your job right-"

"I do my job right," she said, tightening his belt too tight before slapping it down against him. He yelped, smacking her upside the head. "Hey! Don't ya hit me."

"You tightened that too tight," he complained, his voice eerily similar to Mirianette's.

She rolled her eyes, making a 'tsk'ing sound in the back of her throat. "I'm sure I did. Do ta need me to comb your hair too, Master Destrim, or is that yet another thing outta my task range?"

He eyed her, hobbling over to his desk and hanging mirror to take a glance at the state of his hair. It was messed up more than he'd seen it in awhile, and with a sigh he motioned for her to get over and fix it. She chuckled smugly as she did so, combing it fast without a care for any tangles he might have. Destrim ran his hands over his shirt, checking for holes he might need to sew up.

"While you're in town today, I'll need you to pick up a few items for me."

"More spells ya planning to cast?"

"Something like that," he muttered. Eyes cast downward, the old man smoothed out his hair some more before yanking the brush out of her hands. "Now, sit down."

"What for?"

"Your hair looks like you've been through a hurricane. I don't want you going out like that," he said, voice softer than usual. Then, he coughed and his voice returned to his usual gruffness. "Someone might think you're a carpenters assistant instead of mine. That old woman's a wench in her highest form, I swear to you. Last time I saw her she was chopping wood with a hammer and a wedge."

Luistia rolled her eyes again, but sat down on his stool obediently. Her eyes closed as he ran the brush through her hair, carefully going down each side several times to tame the wild tangles that had taken up residence there. It was soothing in a weird way. Her father had done the same for her when she was a little one, way back before he and her mother decided to run off to Partrall. The year after he left she took up job with Destrim, who allowed both her and Mirianette to live with him in his large tower. The old man had a reputation for disliking everyone and giving even the King and Queen a hard time. But, the second he'd seen the little five summer's old Mirianette he found himself at odds. Mirianette hadn't been ruined by politics and corrupted by money yet, and he fought to keep her out of such things. Luistia had been older, but he eventually warmed up to her as well. At times he'd smile around her, though not nearly as bright or for as long as he would around her younger sibling.

All the same, she didn't mind it. She liked the way he was rough around her. It showed her that he cared, even if his words stung at times and even if his slap stung worse. She'd learned to hit back, and hit harder, until they'd reached a compromise in one or the others favor.

"Three things of sage, a thack of hackberry, and as much bristle-thorns as you can get," he told her when he finished his brushing. He worked his fingers through her hair, trying to braid it up into a respectable bun. While they slid out of her hair several times, and were shaking badly, he eventually managed to get it up. "Hand me some twine, girl."

She did so quietly, untying a strand from her wrist. There she kept several for safe keeping. Mentally she wrote down the list of things he wanted her to get, keeping in mind that when he said thack he really meant two pints worth.

He tied off the bun with a grunt, then coughed into his sleeve again.

"You'll need to take that lemosta today, Destrim."

"All right, all right. You remember what I told you to get?"

"Yes, Master."

"What are you going into the market for anyways, girl?"

She stood up, hands gently patting around her head as she tried to get a good look at it. Despite the bun, she still had shadows under her eyes and dirt around her neck and forehead, but the old man knew better than to try and get her to clean herself up that much. While she kept the rest of them in order, Luistia wasn't much for cleanliness herself.

"I just need some parts for my fixing," she said carefully. Though he allowed her to go through and fix what she wanted, Luistia wasn't quite certain how he'd feel about her going into the secret places of his tower. He kept several floors away from both the girls, telling them that they'd figure it out on their own accord later on. Still, she knew that he'd want them fixed if he knew how broken those doorways were.

"All right." He waved her off, picking up his cane as he did so. "Just make me a pot of that darn drink before you go."

"Yes, Destrim. Ya better drink it this time," she told him as she walked to the door.

He coughed again, "You make it right and I'll drink it!"

She bounced down the stairs like she was little again before controlling herself. On the way to the kitchen she grabbed her cloak, giving Mirianette a smile as she got out the ingredients to make the lemosta. It was a simple charm drink, something that she had learned to make when she first started. It was made of some sort of powdered magic mix and dried out mint leaves. It was relativity easy to make as well. Pour the mix, pour the water, mix, chant for two minutes, then leave on the fire to warm for Destrim to drink when he feels like it. Mirianette stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her nose at the smell.

"I hate that stuff," she said, leaning on the broom. "Can't you ever make anything that tastes good?"

"It's not for ya. It's for Master Destrim. If you want something, go out and get it yourself. I'm going into town in a bit. So make sure that he doesn't hurt himself gettin' down the stairs, all right? Then you can go run off with your friends, granted you actually finished your chores," she told Mirianette with a stern face. Despite her tone and look, she couldn't help but feel a bit excited. The rain was pouring down outside and the smell of wet Estarii flowers made her feel like running. "Keep outta trouble today."

"I will, I will."

As Luistia chanted over the drink, Mirianette finished up her sweeping and dumped it out the window. A few drops of rain splattered in as the wind pushed it towards the house. She looked both ways, then stuck out her tongue and caught some of the drops. They cooled off her face, which was hot from tending the fire earlier. Bits of ash were still caught in her braids.

"Can I have some pence?"

"For what?" Luistia asked, turning to glance at her as she set the pot onto the fire. "Ya got three pence the other day, you couldn't have spent it all already."

"I'm saving up to get a water collector."

Luistia's eyebrows fell together as she looked hard at the her. Mirianette, on the other hand, smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes together as if she was having a fit. After a moment, Luisita sighed and her sister jumped with joy. "Fine," she caved, "ya can have a pence. If ya spend it on candy, I'll tan your hide."

"I won't," she called as she ran up to get the pence. Luistia reached into her pocket, making a show of looking around for the coin before handing it to the younger girl. "Thank you, Luis!"

"Just don't get in trouble today, all right?" she asked, hugging her sister tight. "I'll be on the other side of the market than ya, so if something goes wrong ya come back here immediately. I don't like this weather."

"You don't like anything," Mirianette pointed out. She gave her sister a kiss on the cheek, breath smelling strongly of mint leaves, before squirming out of Luistia's arms and racing over to the stairs.

Shaking her head, she smiled to herself as she checked on the lemosta. It, unlike Mirianette, smelled strongly of magic-which, oddly enough, smelled like rotting grass-and looked like someone had decided to relieve themselves in the pot. Taking in a whiff of it, she breathed in and out softly. The smell was sour to her, but after so many years she'd grown used to the way it knocked out any remaining sleepiness in her. Though she'd woken hours before hand, a good whiff of that always kept her up on her feet for the rest of the day.

She drew her cloak tight around her body, twisting it off on one side so that way it'd stay in place as she went out. Her hood hid her face inside of it, casting shadows onto her that made her dark eyes blend in with the rest of her. By the door she slipped on her shoes, feeling the worn soles with her bare toes. They were a little damp from the rain, but otherwise fine to walk in. She sighed inwardly as she opened the door, the wind pushing against her hold and slamming the door shut behind her. The noise vibrated through the air as she walked, each step taking her further away from the tower.

At first, all she saw was the rain and early fog that had settled in around the city. Gardelle houses line the sides of the tower, rich and poor alike. Some were small and hardly a hundred and fifty feet in total, while others ranged to the size of the Poor Inn to the local Tavern. She walked on the cobblestone road, leaning towards the poorer houses to protect herself against the onslaught of rain. Thunder crackled above her, the storm gladly making itself known. A sharp rock hit her in the side of the face and she flinched, cursing under her breath. Before she could turn around, though, the kid who'd thrown the rock was already running through the streets behind her, too far away for her to bother with.

"Stupid children," she muttered, fingers touching her face gingerly. The cut wasn't deep-it just stung like it was.

Another child ran up to her, this one a boy of scarcely fifteen. Half his face was scarred, though by what she couldn't tell. The boy looked breathless, and he paused in front of her, holding up a hand for her to wait. "Miss...miss do you know where I can find Master Destrim of Tower Gardelle?"

"Yes, I'm his assistant. What do you need?"

"I needed to tell him," the boy said slowly, still trying to regain his breath, "that the King and Queen have issued an arrest warrant for him. He's to make his way to the castle by nightfall lest wise they'll send guards to capture him."

*

Credit to @CloudyTeaCup for making me a cover! I didn't end up using it, but she's AMAZING at making them! :)