She relaxes substantially, nods, and then picks up her skirts and hurries off along the shore.

Elodea sighs and sits down.

Serik returns his attention to her.

"I'd say pleased to meet you but I'm really not. Why are you cursed -"

"When I was a stupid teenager a god wanted me and I was flattered and said yes and it turned out being wanted by this particular god was less fun than advertised. I tried several different methods of escape before resorting to suicide, after which I woke up immortal, released, and with what was apparently supposed to be an incentive to regret succeeding at getting away from him. Coupla times a century he saunters by and offers to fix it if I come back. I have no idea why the creep's obsessed with me in particular but there we go."

"...I have done some pretty impressively fucked-up things in my time but wow."

"Yyyyep. Sorry for being a bit of a bitch to start, I have had a pretty shitty week."

"I can imagine you might have. Would you like a guest room, I have several."

"That sounds nice. The week has actually been really low on rape, I apologize in advance if the curse gets cranky."

Snort. "Well, thank you for that. Preferences for location and decor? Oh, and my daughter has the northwest wing and doesn't like to be disturbed."

"Not gold. If you were worried, the curse only cares about heterosexual rape, your daughter isn't at risk even to the extent you are."

"'Not gold' -? All right. How about near the main dining hall, it's a reasonable walk from here and the view's nice."

"Sure. I was held captive for about half a year by a dragon with a hoard full of the traditional kind of shiny couple years back, I am kind of sick of gold as an interior design choice."

He laughs as he starts for the castle. "A dragon, wow. We don't have those around here."

"That's kind of funny, given that that poor woman back there described you as a 'sorcerer' and my translation spell is insisting that corresponds to a word in my language that refers to someone who has innate spellcasting abilities due to having dragon blood."

Snort. "No. Means something like 'wielder of semi-mythical powers'. Which is fairly appropriate."

"My powers are arguably semi-mythical but the word for what I do--which my translation spell is insisting on corresponding to 'wizard'--is the same as it was when I was a wee apprentice. And 'sorcerer' could mean someone at my level, or someone who hasn't figured out anything more than a few pretty sparkles."

"...yeah, your magic and our magic don't sound much alike."

"Quite. I don't have to torture anyone at all!"

"I haven't generally considered it much of a burden but I'm aware I have unusual interests."

"I mean, if I did have to, I have a helluvan advantage finding acceptable targets. I can't say I'd be dreadfully put out."

"Acceptable targets?"

"I mean, I'd feel a lot more comfortable torturing someone who'd just raped me than a random innocent."

"Suppose that's fair."

"...I'm trying to come up with a way of saying 'I usually kill them anyway' that doesn't sound like a threat. Um. It is only usually and even if you did most of the reasons don't apply?"

"You can't kill me, and if you somehow could I wouldn't recommend it. Part of the arrangement for my immortality involves a carefully-stabilized supply of enough pain magic that if you loosed it I wouldn't expect this mountain to still be standing afterward."