The Midnight Sun

Waving one hand dismissively and turning her head to one side, Naoki makes as if to brush off the thanks, but the smile on her face suggests that she doesn’t very much mind.

“If one were to consider states that could crumble at the drop of a metaphorical hat… Alban is very much up there. I mean no offense, but if my understanding is accurate, if anything were to happen to your King Averin or that sword of his, the whole nation would sink back into war, and in that situation, I don’t think the human population of Alban fares well.”

The term human is used loosely, of course, but Naoki figures the meaning is clear enough. However, it does lead her to wonder if Little Alden here has inherited any of his mother’s wolven bits. Ask about that later, perhaps.

“I’m not going to see you or your family as one or some of many refugees, so if things start looking at all questionable, get out as quick as you possibly can, come stay up with me, and go back later if it turns out to be safe to do so and you’d like to. Better to come when you might not need to than to be denied the opportunity to come at all.”

As Naoki is speaking, another individual approaches their table. Rather than the server that had delivered the basket of bread or any of his fellows, this individual is rather nondescript, one of many 30-something middle class men who might plausibly be a patron of The Midnight Sun, save for the fact that he wears a white scarf as a sort of sash over one shoulder. He simply approaches, places a small box at the end of the table, turns back about, and leaves, without offering any sort of greeting or even so much as making eye contact.

“Beyond that, the place is more than large enough for me to make offers such as that, and I’m sure you would do the same in my place. In any case, this is the second thing, this box here, and the item within…”

Reaching over with her free hand, Naoki slides the box toward herself. It’s a small - perhaps 3” by 4” by 1” - nondescript wooden sort of thing, not of any particularly exquisite craftsmanship or ornamented in any particular way. It has a simple latch, which Naoki undoes, and then proceeds to open the box. She takes a moment to glance at the contents, assure herself that it’s the right item, before turning the open side of the box to face Moonflower, and sliding it a bit in her direction, but not quite close enough to allow Little Alden to grab it.

The item within the box is a vial of clear glass, just large enough to have to be placed into the box at an angle to fit. Within, there seems to be a liquid, a translucent sort of uniform, off-whitish liquid that seems to be undulating a bit and sparking as it does so. The vial is capped with a cork that seems fairly standard, and some brass wiring has been wrapped around the vial in such a way to hold it securely, and a string has been attached to the brass wiring, such that one could wear the whole ensemble as a necklace, or replace the string with something else and keep it secure by some other means.

“This here, this vial, is a potion, a product of alchemy, and a highly advanced one, at that. It doesn’t have a name in the common tongue, only in a dialect of ancient elvish, which I cannot even begin to pronounce. In fact, it was, until perhaps four weeks ago, more or less lost and forgotten knowledge. I went to great lengths to recover the knowledge and then produce some - it took me a few tries. I think the name translates very roughly to ‘Unicorn Tears’. Not because any unicorns or unicorn products were involved in the creation of it, but presumably because its function is similar to the fabled function of the tears of unicorns: healing of extreme potency.”

As she speaks, Naoki does as she tends to, and gesticulates with her hands to add emphasis and punctuation where appropriate.

“It’s a sort of restorative, see. Not quite like other potions of healing, because it sort of works to restore what was there, instead of what it thinks ought to be there, and the two aren’t necessarily the same. I have a suspicion that it does this by looking into the past in some way, perhaps as a seer might, but I can’t quite be sure. In any case, it’s capable of healing more or less any would or mutilation one might receive, and is effective on a terribly wide range of beings. I’ve not done extensive tests, and the texts certainly aren’t very helpful in this regard, but this batch that I’ve created - of which this is a single vial of - has worked on men and women here in Isra, as well as a Volkrim - a race of primarily bipedal wolf-people, they live up in the Norkari Mountains. Along with healing grievous wounds and alleviating a few sicknesses, the tears here have also apparently worked to reverse the effects of aging to a degree, interestingly enough. Again, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to do any sort of conclusive testing, but a man of sixty who had his hand crushed seemed to become taller, apparently appearing as he did perhaps ten years previously. His hand healed fully as well.”

“I would like you to take this vial, keep it safe, hold onto it, explain its function to a few individuals who you can trust, and perhaps use it to save some lives. Only a drop or two into the mouth of whoever you intend to treat should do it. They should, if they can, eat something at the same time, that’ll help. Then, it will do what it does over the course of the next forty-eight hours. I wouldn’t suggest administering any more than that, but I also don’t really know what effects doing so might have.”

At this, Naoki offers a small shrug, intending to further impress that this is very much a new and uncertain thing. Or, an ancient, forgotten and recently rediscovered thing, of which not much of the old knowledge has been recovered.

“One might also be able to utilise the deaging effect to artificially lengthen one’s life, but I also wouldn’t quite recommend that. The substance may have some manner of as of yet unseen side effects if applied multiple times. Can’t be sure. I intend to look into it, and I’ll let you know what I find out, but until then, don’t administer the stuff regularly."

Glancing away from Moonflower toward Little Alden, Naoki hesitates for the space of a moment before continuing, "… I also don’t have any data at all about how it might affect young children, so I would also suggest avoiding administering it to Little Alden unless absolutely necessary until there until he’s got a few years on him.”

Though Naoki is fully aware she’s talking her jaw off, she continues, “And further, keep in mind that if someone you care about requires medical attention, you absolutely have the option of sending a messenger to Isra, and I would be more than willing to send some of my medical personnel over there, with their professional expertise and whatnot. The same goes for if you need anything else, I owe you a favor and would be more than willing to assist you in whatever manner you might require on account of my holding you in high regard. ... It’s just that… that I’ve got a whole lot of this stuff, this Unicorn Tears substance, that I went to great lengths to research and produce, and now I need to do something with it, so I’m distributing it about in the hope that it will be used in productive ways. To friends, the aforementioned medical personnel, Sun Marshals,” Naoki nods her head in the direction that the man who delivered the box departed in, suggesting that he was a Marshal.

“...Officers in Isra’s armed forces, and other individuals who would have a high chance of needing to use it. Save some limbs, some lives. Such is my hope, at least.”

Another small sort of shrug is offered with this, the end of her spiel. As she neared the conclusion, Naoki’s demeanor shifted gradually to become somewhat more subdued, rather somber, but not to the point of being off-putting or hostile. With her whole bit said, she folds her hands before her, and sits quietly, looking across the table for Moon’s response.