"What in Torvan's bloody, fucking hell did you do?" Calix demanded, trying to sit up but his muscles felt about as sturdy as bread dough.

The priest frowned, using one hand on Calix's shoulder to hold him down. 

"You shouldn't say that one's name so lightly." He tucked a strand of hair behind an ear, dark eyes flicking to what Calix assumed was a tapestry of Torvan. A curious little grin lifted the corner of his mouth before he frowned again. "Stay still. The effects will wear off soon enough."

"What—"

"Did I do to you," the priest said, cutting him off. A bored, weary expression crossed his lovely face. "If I answer that, what will you give me in return?"

Calix opened and closed his mouth, puzzled by what he'd said. So he opted for something easier. "What's your name?"

The priest blinked slowly, the white paint around his eyes cracking as he scowled. "I...suppose that is fair trade, seeing as how I know yours." He sighed, resting his chin in his hand again. "Lanxi. Bai Lanxi"

Calix licked his lips, slowly stretching out his fingers. Feeling for the cool metal of his sword. "It's not Sorveti."

Lanxi's mouth quirked. "No."

"What is it?"

"Do you really want to spend the dawn questioning my heritage or would you like to discuss the things you saw?"

Calix closed his eyes, flashes of memory bright and shining behind his lids. He took in a slow breath, reining his temper in tight. Finally, he looked up at the priest. "Will you help me to sit?"

Lanxi quirked an eyebrow, but didn't speak as he offered a hand decorated with silver rings. He pulled Calix up, helping him to lean against the center post of the tent before he sat in front of the general, legs crossed and back straight.

The cold sweat coating him made Calix shiver as he stared at the priest, trying to get a read on the man. After a few moments of this, he decided it would be easier to understand the mind of a rock. Calm and still as an undisturbed pond, Lanxi sat patiently, revealing no emotion beyond attentiveness. He made Calix uneasy. 

"What was in the powder?" he finally asked, not yet ready to lend any credence to what he'd just experienced. "Why didn't it affect you?"

"What are you really doing up here in the frozen north?" Lanxi fired back. "What did you see that made you weep so?"

Self-conscious, Calix wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. He frowned at the priest. "I thought you were supposed to answer my questions. Provide me guidance."

"Ask for guidance and that is what you will receive." Lanxi gave a smile. "If you want something more, you will need to offer more." He swept his hand behind Calix. "After all, that is generally how it works."

Calix craned his neck to peer over his shoulder, frowning at the table of offerings situated between two more braziers. 

"I saw my dead mother," he snapped. "What was in the powder?"

Lanxi didn't so much as blink. "Mandrake, black henbane, the sap of a tree we call lung li, belladonna and a few mushrooms to help you relax."

Calix had never been very good at botany or herbology, however a few of those plants were rather familiar. "You poisoned me?"

The priest gave a fox-grin. "Only a little. Just enough to show you what you needed to see."

Strength was starting to seep back into his muscles. Calix flexed his fingers, trying to banish the numbness there. He mulled that over. He hadn't died, but really it was the principle of the thing. The priest had poisoned him.

Lanxi blew out a breath, fluttering a strand of silver hair off his forehead. "Tell me what you saw."

The urge to break the priest's nose and storm out of the tent was overwhelming, but his legs were still useless. He debated sitting in uncomfortable silence until his body was once again at his command, however, Calix got the distinct impression that would only be uncomfortable for him. 

"It doesn't matter," Calix said as carelessly as he could manage. Images of his mother and Cassia flickered in his head. The phantom blood of his stepmother warmed his cold hands. "Everything I saw was nothing but an herb-induced hallucination."

Lanxi pulled a bored expression. "Unoriginal, General. I'm disappointed." He heaved a sigh and rustled the long sleeves of his robes. "Very well. I shall play along. Since nothing you saw was real, why not tell me what you dreamed? After all, it hardly matters."

Opening his mouth to do just that and call the priest's bluff, Calix was stopped by a sudden tug in his gut. Private. That's private.

Black eyes glittering with a sheen of purple, Lanxi offered another sly smile. "I'm only curious about a dream, General." He cocked his head. "Were there flowers?"

"Re—" Calix bit his tongue. His mind flashed back to the winter forest with spring petals resting on the snow. 

"Red." The priest nodded like Calix hadn't stopped mid-answer. "And I'd bet my left hand there were purple petals right alongside."

Calix blinked, then nodded. He couldn't help himself, caught off-guard by the priest's surety. "Why the left?" he asked, still not willing to be drawn into this strange game. 

Lanxi gave that odd grin of his, shaking back the sleeve of his robes to reveal a left hand missing the pinkie and ring fingers. The skin was mottled white and pink with burns long-healed. "What else were you shown, General. Aside from flowers and your mother?"

"What do the flowers mean?" Calix cursed his curiosity, eyes still lingering on Lanxi's mutilated hand. 

"Perhaps something, perhaps nothing."

Shaking his head, Calix gave a sharp grin of his own. "No. If you would like me to continue playing this game, you will answer my questions."

"You assume I know what anything of your vision meant. The flowers could be any number of things, but without further context, I cannot say anything with certainty."

Calix hated how much sense that made. Especially when one considered how nonsensical this entire situation was. A situation he had effectively volunteered to experience. After all, nothing had dragged him into the temple tent, save his own bloody pride.

Irritated with himself, he tried to move his legs and was pleased when he managed to wiggle his foot. His fingers moved more easily, the skin of his palms beginning to tingle. He still didn't have the strength to leave under his own power. For the first time, he regretted not having his guard trailing along after him.

A sudden shout pricked his ears, but it was too far away to make out what the commotion was about.

"Perhaps if you tell me why you're here, in this miserable little country, things would become more clear," Lanxi suggested, still with that fox-like expression of amusement on his face.

Calix cut him a dry look. "That's above your pay grade, Priest."

Corlana's emissary wrinkled his nose, but appeared otherwise unbothered. His bright eyes flashed and he sighed, rising gracefully to his feet. Calix tipped his head back, irritated that he now had to look up at the priest. 

Lanxi waved an elegant hand. "Very well. Then I suppose we have arrived at an impasse. If you can tell me nothing—what you saw in the vision nor why you're here—then I'm afraid you've only wasted time and several of my more expensive ingredients." He settled on the corner of the offerings table, delicately picking through a bowl of dried fruits. "You may leave."

Startled, Calix could only blink up at the man. The priest popped a piece of dried apple into his mouth, munching serenely, like he hadn't just poisoned a man and then refused to answer any of his questions. When Calix didn't move, he raised a dark brow.

"I can't move my legs," Calix snapped, feeling the need to defend himself. 

Another shout rang through the camp, followed by what sounded like running. Calix stared longingly at the tent-flap. More shouting could be heard, words muddled and unintelligible. Now he frowned, the commotion more than just a few soldiers too deep in their cups.

"There's nothing for you to be concerned about," Lanxi said mildly. He popped a few raisins in his mouth, still watching Calix with a look verging on boredom. "Are you sure you won't tell me why you're here?"

"That's for me to decide. Help me to my feet." Calix tried to push to a standing position, but only made it to his knees, his thighs and core still too weak to support his weight. 

Lanxi stared at him for a long moment before sighing. He stood, shaking back his long sleeves as he helped Calix to a fully standing position. He leaned heavily on the slight man, cheeks coloring with anger and embarrassment. Lanxi said nothing as he helped Calix move toward the mouth of the tent.

Now the shouts were close, the world seeming to grow brighter.

Torches, Calix realized. It was getting brighter because torches were getting closer. 

"This is your last chance, General," Lanxi said as they stepped beyond the confines of the tent. He tilted his head and smiled at Calix. If you tell my why you're here, I can tell you what those flowers mean."

Something fluttered at the back of Calix's mind. Some little shudder of recognition.

"I—" Calix began, then frowned when he realized the priest was staring avidly at him, reading every little nuance and expression. 

"Why must you know that?" he asked, voice very quiet, eyes scanning the line of tents around them. There. He found the little bubble of light rising above the brown, hide tents that marked a group of men with torches. "Could I not just tell you my vision?"

"Mmm." The priest muttered in a language other than Metian, and Calix went very still. "Because that is the information I need?"

Calix mulled that over for a moment, watching the snow trickle gently down to the earth. It caught in the silver strands of Lanxi's long hair, gilding him in silver and turning him to a creature of ice, his pale features cold and clear as white jade. 

"And if I order you to simply help me back to my tent?" Calix tested. 

A dagger pricked his ribs for his trouble, Lanxi still smiling that gentle smile of his. "I'm afraid I'd have to decline the offer, General, though I must confess I do like you rather a lot."

"Who sent you?" His mind raced. His legs weren't strong enough, his reflexes too slow for him to be able to get away from the assassin without being stabbed.

Lanxi tutted. "General, those are not the rules of this game."

"Release him, Zhongde Honghua." A soft, cold voice spoke from behind them. Torchlight suddenly fell on them as Tullus stepped out from around the corner of the temple tent. He was not the one who had spoken.

Calix nearly collapsed to the ground, relief flooding through him so suddenly his head spun. He did collapse when Lanxi abruptly released him.

"Do I know you?" he asked, voice polite and quizzical, his dagger disappearing into one of his voluminous sleeves.

"Likely not, Master. But I know of you. Please step away from my general. I would be quite shamed if you were to kill him."

Lanxi suddenly burst into laughter, the sound wild and volatile, making Calix look up. The assassin grinned down at him, beginning to loosen the many ties and stays keeping his deep, purple robes in place.

"I'm not here to kill him, little brother. I just needed to know why he's here. Why you're all here."

A hand was suddenly fisted in Calix's coat, hauling him backwards. He looked up to find Min, sword drawn and leveled at the assassin, his face cold and still as the ice sheeting the ground.

Lanxi held up his hands, face still split in a wide grin that made him look decidedly mad. He didn't seem to mind that more and more of Calix's guards were trickling out of the tent lines, swords drawn and hoping for his blood.

He bowed his head to Calix, smile gentling. "I bore no ill-will, General. Only soft deception. Oh, the effects of the poison will wear off soon. Until we meet again, I wish you good health."

With that, he flung the robe at the nearest guards, tangling them in the purple silk. 

Calix and the rest watched in astonishment as he leapt from the ground straight onto the spine of a tent and sprinted along it. He jumped to the next tent, then the next, light as a feather, step never faltering as he disappeared into the snow and dark.

"He said poison," Min said softly, kneeling down next to Calix. His hand was still on the general's shoulder. 

"I'm fine," he murmured, eyes still trained on the spot all trace of Lanxi had disappeared. Then, he put his arm around Min's shoulders. "Help me stand."

Min obliged, and once Calix was on his feet, he turned to the Sorveti. "You know of that man?"

The soldier nodded, looking grim. "His name means 'Red Blossom in Snow', and he is one of the deadliest assassins in the world." Min let out a shuddering breath. "You...General, it is a miracle you are still breathing."