See the comments on this link for the prompt? Long story short, he's been sent by the gods into the elf's life because Wraithvine NEEDS him.
https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-03379-i091-eternal-regrets -- DaniAndShali
[AN: The comment in question is, "The more I read of Amatu the more I really think his quest is to help WRAITHVINE bring the light back into hir life. I'm starting to think the poor immortal elf has endured so much pain hir heart is starting to slip. Maybe the gods put Amatu into Wraithvine's life to "heal the healer" and "help the helper" for a change. What do you think?" ]
Immortals can turn sour. Live long enough, witness enough repeating cycles of history, try to engage in the Sisyphean task of trying to break those cycles too often, and even the brightest star will turn dark.
With a looming confrontation with a Lich, a Lich that Wraithvine used to love, it was inevitable that the immortal Wizard would fall to melancholia.
Amatu returned the favour once paid by Wraithvine's nursing him back to health, by finding any and all slimmest chance of hope. He found a bright and cheerful inn to rest in. Inside a picturesque hillside village called Raolsaphold. There, he made certain that the room had at least some seasonal blooms, growing in pots so that they wouldn't die. There, he had the local or visiting Bards play cheerful songs. And there, with little else of a chance, he focussed his powers on helping Wraithvine and sounded his bell.
This time, with clear intent and concern and a familial bond behind it, the ringing of the bell did something entirely different.
Wraithvine lifted up from his rest, elevated in the air despite being fully awake, and left behind a dark shape of clouded misery. The shadow of Wriathvine's melancholia scurried to the opposite corner of the room and hissed like a cat.
It, like Malforence, was a roughly coherent and dark cloud. This one was more blue-ish than black, though it was hard to tell unless it swirled.
"I can't erase you," said Amatu, "If I did that, I would do more harm than good to a good Elf. What I can do is reduce you." He put the bell down. "Put your weight on me. I will see what can be done."
He expected misery. He expected depression. What he got was love. So many happy memories tainted by the inevitability of the conclusion. The worries, the fears, all for naught. And the knowledge that ze was going to lose another to the lure of fast, cheap, nasty necromancy. Watching, trapped by love, as the person he knew was eroded by fear and want and vile, dark temptation.
I don't have the time to help... wailed Wraithvine's miseries.
"You've had the time since," reasoned Amatu. "I know you enough to know that you never let go of a problem. What have you got since the attempt went wrong?"
The hint of eyes in the swirling mass looked up at the levitating body where it usually resided. I have worked on it. Ze knows. I am just the belief that it is all hopeless.
"Wraithvine? Help please? What are your solutions?"
Wraithvine, deep in hir trance, said, "A new body. A stronger body. An Elven body so he could have a long life. Homunculus. Use necromancy to defeat necromancy. And once he is inside and comfortable? Remove the curse. It might kill him outright. It might save him. I still do not know."
The misery shrank down to half its size. We do not want to kill him.
"I think," said Amatu, "I might be able to help with that. Remember my gifts? All I need is his consent."
The cloud shrank to the size of a housepet. To a mouse. Amatu let it back inside Wraithvine and released his grip on his magic.
Then he fell into a slump because it was surprisingly exhausting.
"Hoenigh!" Wraithvine leaped up and scooped Amatu into the bed. "Don't scare me like that."
"I'm fine. Just tired. Promise." He summoned a smirk for his mentor. "And now you've done it twice. Once more and you have to tell me what it means."
"I will and I will thank you, belike," said Wraithvine. "Just as I thank you now. That was... a very interesting experience, I must say."
Interesting, in Wraithvine's dictionary, could mean anything from almost fatal to a close encounter with godhood.
[AN: Big thanks to TotalSapphicPanic for the kind donation of dollars. You have made my day, and are now immortalised as the picturesque village of Raolsaphold.]
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / scanrail]
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Yyyyyup