Act 3: The Ball - Departure

Konrad replies while gazing at his girlfriend, I heard. Listen, this literal waking paralysis is giving me the most uncanny sense of dread, and I wish to try something Steve did with May.

Samantha: Oh, and what... Oh, you mean that?

Konrad: Yes. I'm going to try to bring you into one of my memories so we can talk more comfortably.

Samantha again: You heard what Jacob said.

Konrad again: Yes, but Steve was alright after the one time. And I would like to finally do this face-to-face. In the meanwhile, perhaps I'll fall down and hit my head. Or Femke will catch me. Either way, I'm a grown man, I can take it.

You realize it'll be my pain for a while? Well, alright then, Samantha hesitantly replies. Where are we going?

Suddenly, the world spins, and Samantha is taken to the Vulcan at midnight. Konrad leans on the rail leading up to the ship's wheel. He remembers her appearance from the mirror she looked at for applying her makeup on the Happy Frog. Upon examining herself, Samantha sees that she's wearing her uniform.

The Conspiracy agent looks around and sighs with disapproval. In the blink of an eye, her uniform transforms into a plain skirt, a blouse and thin overcoat, and a pair of sandals for her feet. The homely ensemble breathes better than her uniform. "There we go."

To Konrad, she looks like a mother planning to stay home all day and play with her kids. He whistles. "I think that would suit Femke really well!"

Sam laughs. "We're not in my memories anymore. I can be as lazy as I want! Speaking of which, I've seen plenty enough sails and wooden decks for a lifetime. Two even, if we're counting the dreams. Can't we go somewhere else?"

Konrad looks up in contemplation. "Hmm... Ah, I know just the thing."

The moon disappears, plunging the ship into darkness. The world fades in a moment later. The light bouncing off of the dry sand and dirt threatens to blind them both before they can adjust, and the sun shining down on them burns them in a way that reminds Sam of her day off with Edward and Triston on the northern shoreline of Medial. This time, she finds herself standing on flat ground dusted with sand, hemmed in by wooden stands that rise higher in the back to give seated spectators a proper view. The ground and the stands are reminiscent of tournament grounds where the Emperor's vassals held jousts and melees, but on a grassy field instead of sand. Scattered here and there are a few athletes and spectators, but far on the opposite end of what could be called a crowd.

"I know where we are!" she says, lighting up. "This is the famous Arena, in Odwaz!" She turns and sees Konrad in a topless raiment, with naught but bracers, greaves and a breastplate for armor, all worn from constant use, and a training sword in his hand, resting on his shoulder. "You look right at home. I could tell you were from Myr."

Konrad smiles. "Good guess. I am a Red Mage." He tosses the blunt rod of iron away like a dirty sock. The noise draws looks from startled visitors, who quickly lose interest. "You recognize the place?"

"Yes, Ed and I went here during the war. It was wild. Good sense. And in a bad sense, as well."

The Red Mage grunts. "Because of the war?"

"Wait, can anyone see us?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. It's just a memory, and my frequent visits here are a blur. There were a handful of days where it was only me."

"Oh, you trained here?"

Konrad nods. "Yes, after passing the clan's muster in martial combat and magic, I came here whenever I could. I always dreamed of becoming an arena champion. Mm, how little I knew back then... So, the man we're chasing."

Samantha casts her eyes down and folds her arms in. "My husband. Ed, how could you... I should be glad that they're alive, but..." When she looks up, her eyes remind Konrad of his mother's disappointment, and by proxy, he feels a pang of sadness.

"Hiraeth," she whispers, in accented Myrzen.

Konrad blinks, and his eyebrows shoot up. She had just used the activation word he chose for the detonator he created. "Um. Excuse me?"

She blushes. "I-it has a hidden meaning, just for us. If ever you need to convince him of anything and I'm not awake, just say that. If anything, it may convince him that I've decided to trust you."

"...Oh."

Her face transforms into a glare. "And I know what you told Kieran and Jacob, but I also remember how you felt, and I won't be so easy. If you want my cooperation, you must promise me that you will NOT kill Edward in cold blood."

Konrad stutters. "Sam--"

She interrupts him before he can finish - "Unless he gives you no choice." Having realized how he could marginally fulfill that condition, she puts a hand over her mouth, but waits on Konrad's reply.

The Red Mage's sense of self-righteousness arcs off of him like lightning. Slowly, her fiery glare whittles down his stubbornness and bloodthirst, wrenching him open as with the palm of a hand, one finger at a time, until the invisible aura of murderous hate fizzles down to an ornery crackle. They can both sense it before he speaks the words: a contract has been made.

"I promise. Unless I have no choice, I will not kill Edward or destroy his orb."

She stares back, blinking, softening the glare to a frown. "Good. I've got your promise. I need to talk to him. I can reason with him. He might know where Triston is, if Kieran doesn't."

He nods. "Yes, I understand. I won't weasel a way around it, either. That's not my style."

She nods along. Where they are, she has no need of her grandmother's ring to suss him out.

"Anyway, I wanted to talk about Jacob's workaround. Given how different you and I are, this could have a volatile effect on you," he warns.

"That's not how it works," she corrects him. "Even if I overwhelm you, it's like a book. I can't read anything I don't want to unless I open it and look closely. I don't think I've ever had to do it... Opening the mind of a criminal sounds like an awful idea to me. If I'd never met you like this, I probably would have dominated you and locked away the key. But like you said, it's all the more reason for us to do what he suggested. If we can't prevent the mind-merge, I might have to see those memories whether I want to nor not."

"Ah, good. So, that's eight hours of sleep, then eight hours for you, and eight hours for me. I hope we can track the time."

"So, who gets hours 9-through-16? Me, or..." Samantha blushes.

Konrad holds back a grin, which quickly turns into a chuckle.

Samantha sighs again. "Oh, bells. Evening or morning doesn't really matter, does it."

"I mean, this body belongs to me AND Femke now... Look, I'll be kind. Why don't we duel for it? Right here. Winner gets to decide whether I make a pass at the lady."

She raises an eyebrow. "And what if she makes a pass at you?"

"Then... We'll skip the day after. I'll tell her about the deal."

Sam shakes her head. "No, this isn't right. We can't make this decision for her, and I can't get between you two. I'll just suck it up and deal with it." In her mind's eye, Sam can already see the memory of the previous night, from Konrad's point of view. She turns slightly redder. "Besides, I know your type. You can't keep your hands off of a woman for more than a day."

Konrad smirks and owns that fact like he always has. "'Course I can."

She can already sense the obvious falsehood and sarcasm. "Yeah, yeah. I'll weather it. You know, I knew you were a bastard when we first met. But, something's different now. Just slightly."

Konrad pauses. "Is it? I don't quite feel it yet. I see what my... 'friends', allies, want to do, and I just try to help. Sometimes when we argue, they might hold their nose and agree with me. I'm still reflecting on the road that I've been traveling."

"Are you? Or is this is about Nadia's challenge? Femke told you to forget about her."

The Myrzen shakes his head. "No. It's more than that. Yes, I still think about it. But do you remember her ultimatum?" The promise to love him for as long as she could. But for how long would that be?

"I see. So if Femke was a little more worldly-wise, the two of you would never have fell into bed? You can't control that, and worrying about it isn't going to help."

"I know, a friend taught me that, but perhaps, like my elocution, this mask will change my face if I just keep wearing it? I think she'd like that. That's the point of making it last, after all."

Samantha smiles a little, thinking about how her own relationship started. "Then you need to talk to her about that, not me. Speaking of which, we'd better head back."

As if on cue, Konrad's grip on the mind-meld starts slipping. He's no longer able to hold it, owing to the poor compatibility between the orbs. All around them, the stands begin to expand and dissipate. The sand beneath their feet starts to melt and give way, like dry quicksand. Fear takes Samantha. Feeling it, Konrad reaches out and grabs her hand.

"Thank you," she says.

"Of course."