I ponder the marble block before me, hands trailing down the sides to mark where
I might cut the stone away. The room was hot, and the dust was almost stifling
in the air as I donned a small mask and proceeded to carve away at this as yet
unformed masterpiece. Smoothing away the chips and edges with a thought and a
fingertip, I concentrated deeply. A geomancer's skills certainly helped in
stoneworking, but I never could get the eyes right. A yell from the next room
shattered my thoughts, making me lurch slightly and removing the wrong piece of
marble.

"Damn it!" I swore under my breath, throwing a tarp over the possibly ruined
block and scurrying into the bedroom I shared with my husband, Archmage Krius.

"Llysi, where are my robes! What happened to my sandals! Where the bloody Nil
is my breakfast!" he yelled as he glared at me.

"Husband, your robes are probably in the cabinet, your sandals are under the
bed, and your breakfast is...." Damn. Knew I forgot something, it was a pity my
husband was too much of a cheapskate to hire servants. "Your breakfast is
coming, dear!"

I scurried out of the room before he could swing and hit me, one of the many
problems with being married to a taurian. As I trotted to the kitchen to fire up
the oven and throw on the kettle, I murmured, "Maybe if you spent more time
enchanting for gold and less time wenching, you would have money to hire some
help."

"What was that, you shameless hussy!"

Sigh. "Nothing dear, just trying to make sure I can feed you before your long
day of work to take care of me." Or guzzling brew at the Wailing Woman Inn with
your toadies and groping the waitresses. You know, whatever happens first you
big oaf.

Krius stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen, his eyes still blurry with
sleep and probably a hangover. I dodged a swinging ham of a fist and tossed a
plate to the table, eggs and bacon filling the oversized porcelain to the brim.
As his eyes met the food, he snuffled slightly at the plate and sat to devour
his breakfast. "Beer!" he yelled, scooping food into his mouth with a practiced
hand. Why, by Morgfyre, did I marry this uncivilized brute? He patted me on the
rump with a greasy hand as I walked by with his drink, and I knew better than to
pull away.

Taking a long chug from the large tankard I had brought him, he lurched up and
out of his chair. "Get this damned house clean while I'm working today. I'm
tired of the filth! And quit acting like you have artistic talent, that marble
block will never amount to anything and neither will you." he snarled, cuffing
me across the face and sending me sprawling. The door slammed and he was gone.

Picking myself up, I wiped away a quick tear and dusted myself off. No good
would come from crying about my fate so I wipe the table clean and swept the
floor, my mind on more important things. As the morning went on I dusted the
furniture, fed his damned mastiffs, washed the bedlinens and his clothing, and
managed to find time to clean most of my sculpturing room of dust and chips
before lunch. As the sun was high in the sky, I threw on my shawl and walked to
a nearby museum to see an old friend.

He hugged me as I entered, the smell of dust and old things wafting around his
mugwumpi form. "Llysi, you are as beautiful as ever. Won't you come sit and eat
lunch with me?"

I laughed softly. "I'm not entirely sure I should, you seem to have turned your
charm on just for me."

His eyes begged for me to at least sit, and how could I resist? "I suppose I
can, but not for too long. You know my husband is jealous that I even know you,
much less see you from time to time during lunch."

Hadrion laughed, and brought out a basket from behind his desk. We ate and
talked of life, and my love of art. I had never really made it as an artist,
though it wasn't lack of skill nor ambition. My husband seemed to have that old
fashioned idea that a woman should be seen and not heard, and then only seen
when the husband decided it was alright. Bleh. I stole random bits of time
during the day when I wasn't slaving to keep "his" house impeccably clean, to
practice my sculpting and painting. Krius put up with it because it kept me out
of his way when he was in the house.

Hadrion on the other hand? Educated, curator of the city museum, a nihilist of
some skill, and a gentleman to boot. If my husband didn't have spies watching me
throughout the day, I'd probably gust Hadrion into the next dark room and ....
well, you get the picture. What's more, Hadrion encouraged my artistic side,
often coming by the house to look at my pieces and congratulate me. I've never
won any sort of rewards nor had a piece exibited publicly, but Hadrion assured
me that the time would come. All I needed was a bit more practice, a bit more
study and I'd have my masterpiece, something to shove in Krius' face and show
him that my "playing at being an artist" wasn't in vain. It's just as well, I
never could get the eyes right anyway.

I gave Hadrion a peck on the cheek as I left his office. Making my way back to
the house, I noticed the door hanging open and glanced inside. A large paw
darted out and around my neck, jerking me inside. Home early for whatever
reason, my husband glared down at me angrily.

"Where have you been, you idiot wench!" he roared.

Barely able to breathe, I managed to mumble enough to make him put me down.
"I've been in the market, looking for your supper when I noticed the door was
ajar...."

"Where the Bloody Nil are your purchases then!" he roared, backhanding me into
the doorjam. "You've been to see that damned frog again, haven't you!"

I favored my reddened face with a hand. "and what if I did! At least he doesn't
kick me aroun..."

He balled up his fist and punched me in the gut, blasting the wind out of my
lungs. "You shameless hussy! I work and work, and all you do is sit around the
house and eat my food, take my money, and see some other man behind my back!"
Krius drew back again but I rolled out of the way before he could hit me again.
Running to my room with Krius shambling after me, I slammed the door behind me
and leaned against it. I was trapped with a raging taurian in the next room, and
only a oaken door between us. I looked around hastily for a tool, a weapon of
some kid as his fist thudded against the door at my back. Nothing was to be
found, so I weighed my options.

No windows, no grates in the room, no way out. The door was the only path to
freedom, and I surely wasn't going that way. The floor was solid marble with no
way to burrow down and out. The wood behind me shuddered again at the force of
his blows, and his cries of rage obviously weren't going to cease any time soon.
All I had was myself, the stone in front of me, and the dust on the floor that I
hadn't swept up yet. Picking myself up and lifting my chin, I gathered up a
handful of the dust. I threw the door open and caught Krius with an upraised
fist about to bash the door again. He grinned evily and lowered his fists,
reaching for me.

"Did you really think you would escape, Llysi? I'm tired of your idiocy, your
playing at trying to be better than the maid you were before I married you. When
I'm done with you and I toss this damned stone out, I'll be damned if you step
foot outside this house again."

With a snarl, I tossed the dust directly into his eyes and he threw both hands
up to clear the sediment from his eye. I slapped an open palm to his chest and
he stiffened, automatically recognizing my actions. I muttered an incantation
and he lurched towards me with his fists raised to strike me down before the
spell fully hit him. A fist smashed into my temples and I knew no more.

I woke up a few hours later, stiff as the stone statue before me. My husband
had succumbed to the little skill I had and his flesh was now stone. How long
would it take him to come out of it? I placed a palm upon his chest and
sensed... nothing. No life, nothing. Apparently the combination of overexherting
himself along with the booze and my fleshstone spell had caused his heart to
stop while under the spell. Smirking, I walked around the statue and
contemplated my future without an abusive husband who didn't tend to my needs
nor encourage my love of art.

The next day, I exibited the statue at the museum. Hadrion clapped and
exclaimed his thoughts of it being a wonderful rendition of my husband. Well,
ex-husband, as the city heard a story of his visiting relatives in the country
after our falling out.

With a practiced push, I glided a finger around an eyeball and sliced a little
bit off of each one, maiming his sight if he ever popped back out of it and
miraculously revived due to some spell. I never could get those damned eyes
right.