The Assassin's Tale; Together Again

Credits; Krell, Rea,

Rea had the decency to turn around before he finished reforming.  She may have been a oddity, and at fourteen yet nearly twelve thousand years old there was no other way to put it, but she didn't have any issues with giving others privacy.  She didn't seem to particualrly want it herself, but that was an issue for another day. 

Krell glanced around, his new eyes already adjusted to the flickering torchlight of the relic chamber in this Medean vault.  He quickly conjured up some clothes.  It had been ages since he'd had to wear casual clothes, but after four hundred years in a habbit the last thing he wanted was more robes.  And since he was technically dead, he no longer could wear his old naval threads. 
"Say Rea, you're good with fashion right?"
"I do own a makeup company, why?"
"I don't suppose you could reccomend me some clothes?"
He could almost feel her excitement.  Before he knew it there was a towel wrapped around his midriff and she was circling him with a clipboard and a tape measure he was certain had not been in the room a moment ago. 
"First order of business is going to have to be underwear.  That's your problem, I don't do underwear."
"Right, been along time since I needed that."  He quietly summoned some underwear, and for good measure a pair of socks and some boots.  Rea stopped in front of him and looked down. 
"Boots?  You can do better than that, all that time hovering around and you want to wear something heavy and inflexible?  I ought to make you run barefoot."
"I happen to like boots."
"Well I don't, but I suppose it's your choice.  I can't make you."
"Thank you."
'You aren't welcome.  Formal or casual?"
"Casual, I've got nothing to be formal for."
"Adventurer casual or civie casual?"
"Depends, how much adventuring do you think we'll be doing?"
Rea stopped circling again and looked up at him.  "You said we."
"Something odd about that?"
"No no, I just..I like how it sounds."
"You need to stop saying stuff like that, it makes you sound creepy."
"Sorry."  She conjured a pair of cargo pants and a gray T-shirt covered with little red-gold specks that read 'Touch of Ash'.  A nice touch, and with any luck added to his new youth people would assume it was for a band they'd never heard of.  Then he realized that he was young, and alive.  He glanced around for a mirror, even though he knew full well that there wasn't one around. 
"Sneakers would go so much better with that outfit."  Rea was leaning back to inspect him better.  She still had her own clever joke T-shirt on from when she'd been impaled by wall earlier, it seemed like some sort of calling card for her conjurations. 
"Just let it go."
"Just saying.  Now, we'll need to buy you some proper gear when we get back to civilization.  Then we'll set up your bank account with Stormguard and I'll introduce you to the Countess, who will in turn introduce you to the pantheon."
"Why can't you introduce me to them yourself?"
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her book.  The meaning was clear; her little leather book of marks consisted almost entirely of immortals.  The pantheon, the high council of the immortals, would be obligated to attempt to bring her to justice on sight.  He suspected that at least a few of them knew her casually and knew better than to challenge her, but the rest would try it as soon as she was recognized. 
"Right.  Don't suppose it says who your next target is?"
She paused and looked down at it.  Her smile fell and she closed it, then quickly reopened it.  She did this three times before putting it back in her pocket. 
"Something wrong?"
"Maybe, but I'm not sure.  I'll check it again tomorrow."
Krell looked at his hands.  Alive again after so long, all this skin and blood was amazing.  He could feel the cold of the chamber, and hear the gentle hum of the protective wards over the various artifacts in their cases.  Then he noticed something on his right hand.  There was a red scar around his right ring finger.  It stretched all the way around the finger and went from one knuckle to the next without stopping.  He hadn't a blemish or mole to speak of, not that he'd had any while he was alive, but here was a scar that he had never seen before. 
"Rea, do Lich normally come back with a scar?"
"Only one other guy has ever come back, and I assure you he didn't come back with a new scar." 
"Then how'd I get this scar on my finger?"  She looked away and started sketching a bit of alchemy on the wall. 
"Rea, how did I get this scar on my finger?"
"I 'unno"  She mumbled. 
"Rea."
"Well, maybe if something hadn't been with you when you were destroyed, a knuckle or something.  It could, maybe, leave a mark."
"What did you do?"
She turned around, but still couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. 
"Rea, did you do this to me?"
"I.."
"Why would you take a man's knuckle?"
"There's a spell."
"There generally is; what was it for?"
"You can make a lich reform at the piece instead of the phylactery."
"Why would you want me to reform at you when the plan was to destroy me and have me reform at the phylactery?"
"Because when you got destroyed again you would have reformed at the phylactery again.   And if you reformed there than..." She trailed off, clearly trying to find the right words.  Krell held up his hand and stopped her. 
"The truth."
"I wanted to make sure you came back.  I was afraid you'd get caught up in the spotlight, or sent to jail, or worse.  I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you came back."
Krell took a deep breath, it was nice being able to do that again.  She just...why?  She just kept doing things without telling him.  And always in the name of not hurting him, or because she wasn't ready.  What did she have against the truth?
"You could have asked."
"You would have said no."
"No, not about the knuckle; that was stupid and ridiculous and never should have worked.  Why didn't you just ask me to come back for you?"
"Let's just go.  We need to get you to Stormguard."
"I expect answers Rea.  You made a promise, not just what I need to know, or what was relevant, all of it."
"Fine, just...later."
"On the ship, and I won't get off until you tell me."
"Fine."