The Nightshade

"You took part in the Young Lion Rebellion?" I ask, the words feeling surreal as they leave my lips. Even though I know because of her age that Opalina lived through those ten years of bloody civil war, never in my wildest dreams would I have ever guessed she had a role in it.

"I just told you I had a reputation, did I not?" She shrugs, still looking embarrassed of the fact. "The father of a certain Princess whom we both know and love sought me out and offered me a deal. Fight with him, and I could keep as many of the fallen bodies of our enemies for my research as I wanted. If we won, he'd use his powers as King to grant me clemency and allow me to return to Tior if I ever wished to."

“Why haven’t you ever talked about knowing Sam’s father before?” I ask Opalina.

“We aren’t exactly friends. I hate him more than I hate Osbourne,” Her brow furrows as she remembers her time with the King-to-be. “Didn’t you ever find it odd how I recognized Samantha the moment I saw her?”

I shrug. “You’re a mysterious witch. When you make astute observations, I just assume you have a source of magical wisdom I’m not privy to.”

“I do. It’s called experience.” She insists, staring at me pointedly.

Ouch.

"Since you're still in hiding, I assume things didn't quite turn out according to plan."

"People promise a lot of things when trying to achieve positions of power, my Dear." Opalina reclines against the edge of the tub, her gaze turning skyward as she stares at the ceiling through layers of swirling steam. "Once they've made it, they realize they won't even be able to keep half of them. Theo needed both House Palemist and the Council of Archsage's approval if he wanted to become King, and that just wouldn't happen if I was around. It was the best he and his brother could do to keep most mentions of me out of the public records of the war. Officially, they think I was a rogue Mage who participated on both sides of the conflict wherever it suited my research most."

At this point, I feel like part of me is growing numb. Even if it's only for a moment, it makes taking all this information that much more difficult. Sighing, I take a long sip of my alcohol as everything my lover has said until now stirs in my head like a maelstrom of confusion and obscure facts. "Opal, I knew that I was in for some heavy subject when sitting down to talk about your past, but 'exiled, swamp-dwelling, peasant-kidnapping, war criminal' is a bit more than I expected to have to process."

Hearing it all spelled out like that, Opalina can't stop herself from a short burst of inappropriate laughter. It's infectious, so I end up joining along with her. The absurdity is too much, but it doesn't last forever. As we both settle down, she groans. "Now you see why I've always been so evasive about telling you anything regarding my past."

"Yeah," I utter, staring daggers into my glass of wine. "Hard not to understand your hesitancy about opening up, now..."

"Do you hate me?" Opalina asks out of nowhere, with a distant, somber feeling packed behind the question. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. I’ve done terrible things in the name of my research."

"Hate you? Opal, I can't even rationalize a lot of what you're saying... the 'you' that I've known my entire life is in conflict with everything you've told me. I've never known you to be anything but a kind woman who wants to help people with all her heart, even if you charge a decent pile of gold for each heal." This gets a small giggle out of her, which is a welcome oasis of cuteness amid these dark thoughts.

"I know it's a cliche, but the war changed me."

"It's a cliche for a reason," I nod my head acceptingly. I’m eager to hear something that will help me easier compartmentalize some of this. "War changes everyone who partakes in it. Nikita's been in wars her whole life, and she hardly seems better off for it."

"Right? That poor girl..." Opalina sighs as her mind drifts towards her Grekkan friend. Still, she soon focuses herself on the conversation here and now, dismissing the distraction. "As for me, by the end of it, I wasn't even mad that I couldn't return to Tior. All that death and misery... and for what? Another slab of meat on my dissection table? Another tiny step forward on my career ladder or a footnote on my list of accomplishments?" Opalina's eyes become hazy and unfocused as she stares into her glass, contemplating whether or not to empty it again before she decides against it. The troubled witch places the chalice behind her on the stone floor and looks me straight in the eyes, telling me, "I didn't want to be Daphne Nightshade any longer. I wanted a home where I could settle down and start doing something meaningful with my life... something that would actually help others first hand."

"I thought you said your research helped lots of people?"

"None of it was sincere. I've cured many diseases, copyrighted many original spells, and brewed plenty of potions that are now stocked on every alchemist's shelf, yes. But it all in the name of satisfying my own interests. Everything good that happened because of my work was nothing more than a byproduct of my own selfishness."

"Alright. That's how you ended up becoming a healer, then?"

"Yes... and Arrark was the best place to do so."

"Why's that?"

"I was close to a young noblewoman who served as a healer for Theo's war camp. She was a depressing and dreary girl, but she always lighted up whenever she healed others. I coveted that fulfillment, I suppose..."

"I think I can see where this is going."

Opalina laughs dryly. "I couldn't see what she saw in him for the life of me, but Deidre fell in love with a certain Dark Knight who was fought in the rebellion.” She pauses, then considers her statement. “Well, I suppose he was a bit more dashing back then... what with his edgy brooding and his tragic quest for revenge on King Lucadeus."

"That very same Duke who hides in his room went on a personal quest for vengeance? For what?"

My genuine curiosity ends up making the older woman sigh. "Solomon was right, we need to get you a newspaper... you at least know the gist of why Samantha's paternal grandfather was bad, yes?"

From what I know about him, her maternal grandfather doesn’t seem much better, but I answer, "Yes, of course. Lucadeus Lundreame was a tyrant convinced that Karnalle should stop worshipping the Twins. For a long time, people pretended to go along with it while still worshipping in secret. Common enough behavior for the Realm to have when dealing with a mad King, just keep your head down and remember he’ll die off sooner or later. Never works in the long run. Ignoring madness only makes it get worse..." I stop abruptly in my mind, remembering that this is an ongoing problem Sam will have to deal with and that there’s little I can do to stop it.

Opalina senses the cause of my distress but nods approvingly of my surface-level knowledge. She can’t comfort me when she’s like this, so she merely continues talking. "The last Duke Gloomcrest was especially devout to Tenebris Primis, and he paid for his piety with his life. He was killed right before Osbourne's eyes, and it was one of the major catalysts for the rebellion."

Gods, my feelings for Abigail's father just keep growing more complex the more I learn about him. Putting aside what he did to me and what he's done to Abigail, his father was killed by a mad King. His wife died prematurely, and his daughter was crippled at the same time. Then, his people turned against him a few years later... not to mention, he didn't even get the vengeance he wanted. Sam said her grandfather is still alive to this day, albeit kept as a prisoner.

All things considered, It's a miracle that Duke Gloomcrest hasn't become a tyrant himself after living a life as hard as his. I'd probably try and keep my daughter locked in her room, too, or worse...

None of this excuses his actions, but it certainly frames them.

Opalina then takes us back on track, bringing us to her point. "Because of my friendship with his wife-to-be, Osbourne and I became somewhat friendly. He offered to give me a new identity so that I wouldn't have to slink back to my swamp, and I took him up on it. I've been a simple healer ever since... except for the brief stint where I came out of retirement to help with the Rotblight."

"So you're not still secretly experimenting on your patients? I'm sorry if that sounds rude, to just blatantly ask, but..."

"No," She smiles gently, although her eyes drift away as they fill with a silent sadness. "You're well within your right to be skeptical after everything I've told you. Even to this day, I continue my research on my own time, but only as a hobby and never with human experimentation. If I make a breakthrough on something or invent a new spell or potion by chance, Xothan is given credit for it while I reap the proceeds. Along with occasional research donations from the Duke, that's my main source of income."

I figured there was more to her wealth than just charging thugs high rates for healing. "So when you say you want to dissect the Crystal Sage...?"

Opalina laughs, a bit of warmth returning to her voice. "I'm mostly joking. Mostly."

"To be fair, I don't think anyone would miss him." I chuckle under my breath, trying to defuse some of the tension.

"No one would miss many of Dewhurst's thugs, yet I've never once used them for my own devices. That's not who I am anymore."

"I believe you when you say that, Opal. Even if you're skipping over a lot of the specifics, I can see why you were afraid of telling me about your past..."

"I know what we have is... weird," The Mage sighs and looks to the side as she stands up, water trailing off her naked body and her heaving breasts. Opalina walks across the bath to sit by my side, leaning into my shoulder right after putting my glass of wine behind me. She opens her mouth to speak, but her words are delayed as she struggles to form them. Eventually continues on to deliver a heartfelt monologue, "I helped raise you... I'm forty years older than you... but damn it, after all the awful things I've done... somehow, I still have a heart. When your grandfather died, I didn't start looking after you thinking it would help atone my sins. I did it because I genuinely cared about you. That motherly love became something else over an appropriate amount of time." She puts extra emphasis on the word appropriate for some reason. It's not like I, a man who took the virginity of a Princess shortly after she became legal, would be able to judge her.

"Even as you went through your twenties, I never acted on my feelings for you because if I did, I'd one day have to tell you about my past. Then, things got worse. You grew distant, and I found it harder to help you without getting close again..."

"I'm sorry that I-"

"Shush. We're not talking about that right now. All that matters is that you suddenly came out of your depression and started aggressively flirting with me, and the rest was history. I've been happy watching you develop your business and your love life since it happened, but I've been dreading this day. It felt like I was just waiting to find out if you'd reject me or not after learning the truth..." Opalina finally gets the ever-present weight off of her chest, and it's a doozy.

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I don't have to let her words sit for long before I know exactly how I feel.

PunishedKom

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