The man called Seer moaned as the guards picked up his chair to carry him to his daily meeting with Bloodless.
“Careful,” he pled. “Don’t rock me too much.
Whether or not they tried to keep him steady he couldn’t tell. The motion brought a surge of nausea, which he just managed to swallow until they set him down in the underground lair where he met with Bloodless. He was sweating despite the cold. It was this way all the time, now that Bloodless was using his viewings almost every day.
“Are you unwell?” came the polished voice.
“A little worse than usual. You know, it’s getting to where I think I ought to have taken you up on dying on the seventh viewing. ‘Quam,’ I pray, ‘how did I have anything else to throw up’?” Seer forced a laugh.
Bloodless chuckled too. It was an odd laugh he ha
