Completed A Spot of Tea?

[Solomon Regis]

Homecoming was meant to be a joyous time in the city of Valenntenia, a time in which to celebrate those who so loyally protected and served the remnants left behind by the Gods themselves to ensure the safety and peace of the Children of The Rune. This year, it instead become one of the most taxing trials the aging Absalon Solomon Regis had ever contended with. Usually by the end of the second night of Homecoming, he would be soaking in a warm bath in The Tower, a book open under his nose by candlelight, while the ones who worked so hard underneath him enjoyed a well-deserved sabbatical from arduous, often thankless work.

That changed when Fire's Guardian vanished into thin air. Then it only got worse when Klaus, a veteran of the Vanguard assigned to protect Fire's Guardian, reported him dead. Now Solomon found himself practically storming from the medical facility where said Vanguard remained in a critical state and headed back towards the tower with muscles tense and a heart murmuring with turmoil. It mattered not the situation, or the circumstances. There were some appointments he refused to miss.

The death of a Guardian wasn't exactly a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Things happened outside of the city that they could not control, unfortunately. If the taxes of battle did not kill you, insanity or nature itself could just as easily snare your life away. The reality of their title as Guardians was that they would always be placed into dangerous situations, and they would be equally responsible for withstanding any such trial.

So, what made this different? Well, nothing. Not on the surface anyways. There was more, though. There was always more. What troubled Regis so ceaselessly about this latest death was that it was not as spontaneous as everybody had been led to believe. There had been warning signs. Signs that pointed to this attack being a targeted one.

Whoever killed Fire had likely known about the Stone. More than that, it had been their objective to retrieve it.

That revelation had groundbreaking consequences. It changed how the whole situation could be perceived. For generations, they had served in secret, without any outside of the city who truly knew of the origins, purpose, or capabilities of their birthright, The Runestones.

So it came down to one question, and it was a query that would change everything depending on its answer. Had the Stone been stolen under the assumption that it was a magical artifact worth selling? Or was the one who killed Fire aware of its true nature? The latter possibility would mean a sweeping change in Guardian policy, and a full-scale mobilization to retrieve the Rune.

It was far too much to sort through in one night, and the seemingly endless list of possible scenarios made both Solomon's head and heartache just pondering them all. No, there were some conundrums that even the Absalon could not decipher on their own. He needed time. Time and counsel. The former may have been in short order, but he had the latter in spades. The massive tower doors swung open and he ascended the spiraling staircases to his own dining room, adjacent his quarters. There was one whom he'd always been able to confide in, one who could ease his mind with her presence, if only because she knew him better than any else, after the death of his wife.

Stella, The Wisdom Guardian.

Wisdom's protector was unlike any other. She was the only Guardian not of Descendant blood. In fact, she was not technically even human. Solomon had met the Dragon long ago by a chance encounter, and while things between them had started out... tense, due to the fact he'd aimlessly wandered in on her while she dozed, the two found a kinship in their desire for knowledge. When the Stone of Wisdom proved to be a difficult one for the current generation of Descendants to handle, he proposed she take up that mantle and join him as a Guardian.

For the promise of Ancient Wisdom, Stella was happy to oblige.

And so the holder of the Wisdom Stone was not only a Dragon, but his oldest and most cherished friend. It was for that reason that they always reserved some time for tea and conversation when she was in town. Tonight was no different, and she was no doubt growing impatient on account of how late the day's events had caused him to be. Swinging the door to the dining room open, the disgruntled Abalon tucked away his frustration and spoke as politely as possible.

"I apologize for my truancy. It has been a... trying day."

Stella

 

[Stella]

"There is no need to apologize," it was a simple statement of fact, spoken with gentle absoluteness. Solomon had neither harmed nor offended her personally, and if a dragon of her age had anything in surplus, it was time. A few extra minutes spent in silence while engrossed in her current subject of study was of no consequence at all.

With a gesture of her human hand, Stella closed the tome of her current occupation and whisked it away with a short glimmer of magic, then stood from her seat at the table to greet the Absalon.

"I would expect nothing less than trying," she offered him kindly, though her expression remained impassive as it tended to do, belying her lack of experience ... or perhaps practice, of human emotive expression.

"You are clearly stressed," she offered, swaying a hand toward the fireplace where the crackle of flames between two overstuffed armchairs offered a warm and comforting respite, "rest first. Let us take tea by the fire so you may collect your thoughts."

 

[Solomon Regis]

Solomon felt some measure of his weariness slide off of his shoulders at her immediate, albeit stoic, reassurance. To others, the lack of emotion in Stella's voice and expression could be off-putting, perhaps unsettling. To The Absalon, it was a comforting memory. His oldest friend had always been this way, and he wouldn't have changed her even if such a thing were possible.

"It's that obvious, then?" Solomon laughed lightly, bowing his head politely to Stella as she rose before turning to the now kindled fire, warm and welcoming by his favorite chair. His tired bones carried him, a noticeable limp in his step as he walked across the room to sit by the flames.

"Five years sober and I finally broke today." He mumbled as he sank into the maroon upholstery, laying his arms on the wooden rests on either side of the antique chair. "Dorian deserved it, though. A toast. If not from all of us, then at least from me."

Stella presented him with a cup of tea, and Regis found himself looking up at her with grateful eyes once more. There was a time when he'd feared her, and another when he'd worked along side her. Now, it almost seemed she spent more time taking care of him than anything else.

A pang of guilt ran through his gut as he sipped the warm drink, his muscles relaxing against the heat of the fire.

"I'm beginning to grow jealous, Stella. Age is far kinder to you than I, after all these years."

Solomon offered a playful smile.

Stella

 

[Stella]

"And it always will be," Stella returned to him, her head tilting just slightly as she looked the man over, "but jealousy will not save you from your fate, my friend."

There were ... options, of course, to prolong his life. She knew of many, informed him of such, but he'd never been interested which was something that caused her some curiosity. How much more he could do and achieve in his goals and worldly endeavors if he could but outlast the swiftness of expiry. Not just for himself, but the collective that he represented.

Stella took her seat after several moments taken to contemplate the many other things Solomon's death would mean for herself, for the others, for the world.

"My offer still stands, of course, should you change you mind on the matter."

A gift of her blood, taken once a day as he might take his tea, to add longevity and strength to his body and mind. It would not make him immortal or as long-lived as she, but it could grant him many additional years he would not have otherwise.

 

[Solomon Regis]

A low, raspy laugh left his lips as she again reminded him of her offers to extend his lifespan. It had touched him the first time she'd given him the choice, as he understood it wasn't considered ordinary for such knowledge to be offered by her kind. Even so, his answer hadn't changed.

"Thank you, Stella. You know that your desire to help me means much." Solomon took a sip of his tea, his body relaxing under its warmth as it slid down his throat and filled his belly. It was as though all the stress of this tumultuous homecoming melted away against the warm fire and steaming tea. It was just what he'd needed. "I still don't think that would be the best decision, unfortunately."

He'd given it thought, honestly. Of course, there was some part of him that wished to live longer, so that he may ensure the well-being of his city and his Guardians long after he would normally, not to mention the desire every father had to see their children grow into respectable men. Villam was getting there, but he'd yet to conquer his demons.

On the other hand...

"I'm tired, old friend." Regis looked down into his tea as he spoke, a hint of melancholy to his voice. "For all that I've done, all that holds me here now are the Stones. I am too old for adventure, and life between Homecomings is a lonely one." His son was now a Guardian, so he too had left the nest. With his wife's passing, work consumed Solomon's life. "In my darker moments, I admit wishing I could be reunited with Aurabella sooner rather than later."

It was a dark confession, but one he followed with another sip of tea and a solemn shake of his head.

"But I am healthy, for my age. I will fight for Valenntenia and all of her people, just as I always have."

Stella

 

[Stella]

His companion remained reticent, as she was most often want to do, and listened while sipping her own tea. For a dragon to understand the emotional attachments to things, people, and places was a difficult thing. For Stella, she likened it to the care and protection a mother dragon gave her clutch - but even at her own age she had yet to experience even that. Such was the rarity of her kind and, frankly, her lack of passion on the matter.

Knowledge had replaced any maternal urge long ago.

"It is settled then," she said finally once he had finished, "I will find you a new companion to fill the days between homecomings with purpose."

If that is what it took to keep her friend happy, she would see it done. That was the logical answer to his current issues.

 

[Solomon Regis]

Solomon's body stiffened as Stella made her decision. The Dragon had good intentions, of course, but there were certain intricacies to mortal relationships that a creature of her grandeur and longevity wouldn't be easily capable of grasping. "Ah, I appreciate your willingness to help in the matter, Stella, but I really don't think that's a viable option."

To tell her why it wasn't viable would mean long-winded explanations of how human relationships worked, and while Stella did crave knowledge, Regis knew her desire to learn such matters was minimal at best. "No, I have purpose, of course, in serving as Absalon. My self-pity is a selfish feeling that I am capable of ignoring, but to prolong it is something I'd rather not do."

Solomon cradled his tea in both hands as he leaned back in his chair, the rush of embarrassment from her offer something he'd not felt in quite a few years.

"Do you ever experience feelings of isolation? An innate desire to meet with others of your kind?"

Stella

 

[Stella]

"Nonsense," Stella rebuked, "I may not be well versed in the act of attachments myself, but I have learned much of humans and witnessed more. Your kind always fares better, lives more fulfilled and content lives, when sharing your time with a bonded. I consider it not an option or selfish need, but a necessity, much like air for breathing."

She looked him in the eye pointedly, "Can you ignore breathing?" A rhetorical question of course. She knew the answer and so did he.

As to his question, "Isolation certainly not. I prefer my solitude, as many dragons do. We are not communal creatures and so far as I am aware, there are very few of my kind left. Rare enough that I have never once crossed paths with another in the entirety of my life beyond that of my own brood mother, and it is not for lack of searching. When I was younger, before I discovered the knowledge of the world, I did indeed hold the desire to find a mate and raise young. Yet as I grew wiser I understood that desire to be only of instinctive inclination and not something born of emotional need. Courtship means rather something different to a dragon than a human - dragons do not mate for life. It is but a fleeting vestige of natural cycles - a mate will take leave shortly after a brood has hatched and return only again when next I would be ready for another. There is no companionship among dragons. My fulfillment and contentment comes from learning, from my hoard of knowledge."

 

[Solomon Regis]

Of course, Solomon should have known turning her offer down wouldn't be so simple. Stella was almost as stubborn as she was wise, and when she'd set her mind to a specific goal it was a rather daunting task to try and talk her down from it. The Absalon only wished she'd chosen a less personal goal to fixate on. He did well not to let the frustration show on his face, instead tempering it with some more of the deliciously brewed tea she'd provided.

Thankfully, the outburst of information she provided in response to his question gave him a moment to think and collect himself. Not that he wasn't listening-- On the contrary, the revelation that any instinct she'd had to create and raise new life had been killed by knowledge itself was a rather depressing one, and Regis loathed the idea that his gift of unending wisdom to Stella may have played a part in such a decision.

Even so, it was just that: Her decision. Far be it from him to tell the Dragoness how to spend her time, not that she would listen to him if he did, of course. But for all of her boundless knowledge, there were some things that simply extended beyond logic.

"You are correct, Stella. Courtship is much different from humans, but I think even you cannot grasp the depths of that difference. Through no fault of your own." To tell Stella she was wrong, that she did not know something was admittedly a somewhat dangerous game, but only if you didn't then offer her an avenue of understanding. Not knowing did not bother her, not being able to learn was. "We don't treat as simply as finding somebody that matches our qualifications. There are intangibles; Factors that cannot be observed or understood in what brings humans together."

Stella

 

[Stella]

"I am a dragon," Stella reminded him, "not blind or inept. You need not be so anxious, I know precisely what it is that I will seek out for you. Now," having supped the last of her tea, she set cup and coaster aside, "the night approaches and you are weary. Let us dispense with the troublesome subject of our late Fire Rune Guardian."

 

[Solomon Regis]

Alas, his attempts to dissuade her were inevitably futile. The Dragoness had made up her mind and she would not heed his pleas to the contrary. It was the latest in a longstanding streak of arguments lost against Stella. Solomon had only ever won a debate with her once, and it was the night he'd met her. With age in both body and mind, he should have known better than to test himself against her resolve tonight.

Sighing in resignment, he placed his own cup aside and nodded. Perhaps, if he was exceptionally lucky, she would find some distraction in her quest to seek out a companion for him and he could pretend to forget this conversation had ever happened.

Not likely.

"I... suppose you are correct. Worrying will only make me restless when I should be relaxing. I must have faith in you and the others to handle the mystery of Dorian's death. There is much for me to do here, to keep this city safe from within."

Stella

 

[Stella]

Perfectly content to move on to the more pertinent and relevant subject of the hour, Stella settled her hands on either armrest of her chair and effected a look of contemplation.

"Indeed, with such a potential threat looming over us, it would be best that you did not leave the safety and sanctuary of the tower. Tell me, what information and evidence have we on his death at this time and where might I find the messenger responsible for reporting it?"

Solomon Regis

 

[Solomon Regis]

Truthfully, Solomon wasn't supposed to give the information requested away so freely. Stella hadn't been chosen for the investigation team by the Somners, and they were the only Guardians who had been given the entire briefing.

Nevertheless, Regis had already accepted that arguing with the Dragoness was an exercise in futility. He waved a hand at her questions with a sigh. "His body was located near a village only a day's travel from here, likely he was on his way to Homecoming. His Vanguard escort arrived at the village nearly dead and directed them to the corpse, near the foot of a mountain, but he fell comatose before I could question him myself. He's with the healers, but his condition doesn't bode well"

Klaus... He'd been one of their most veteran warriors for many, many years. For something to so nearly end his life, that he could be incapacitated, and his charge killed, it baffled and troubled the mind.

"The Guardians of Passion, Faith, Strength, and Dreams are currently investigating the scene. Lyta Drommer was chosen as the head of the investigation."

Stella

 

[Stella]

She sat in silence, calmly attentive to the man as he spoke, absorbing his words like a leaf took in sunlight. That she had not been requested or chosen to help the investigation was neither here nor there - Stella attached no emotion to being overlooked or disincluded for the simple fact that she believed, full heartedly, that those selected were fit for the job. It was of her pragmatic opinion that Lyta was a perfect choice to lead it and gave her the assurance required the job would be done to the utmost.

Free of such tethers, Stella could decide on her own where best she might play a role, if any at all. A decision she would not make right now.

"I will make myself available should any need arise for my assistance then," which Solomon would know to read as: I will forgo my imminent departure. Typically the dragon did not linger after these events, called to the far reaches of Arethil by whim, instinct, or intuition.

"Is there anything I can do in the meantime?" If there was one thing she could not stand, it was being idle and useless.

 

[Solomon Regis]

The old man smiled at his old friend; It was more than he would normally ask of her to stick around for a while longer when he knew full well her desire to roam at her leisure was one ingrained into her very being. One could never truly tame and contain a Dragon-- They were creatures that were born to be free and wander, plain and simple. Solomon wasn't a fool who would attempt to take that away from Stella.

"Aside from your self-appointed task as a matchmaker? There may be." Solomon chuckled and slowly rose from his seat, gently placing his cup on the table beside him before walking over to his desk, dragging his fingertips along its surface before scooping up a stray leaflet with a handwritten note written upon it. "Are you familiar with Odhran Carvyre? The one who inspired the Old Town riot last year?"

A silly question; Of course Stella remembered. Odhran was the patriarch of the Carvyre family, perhaps the only family whose influence rivaled Solomon's own. He'd long been Solomon's biggest detractor, and the riot had been the climax of it all. He was jailed for it, of course. Insurrection wasn't taken lightly.

"He's come down with a mysterious illness, and I fear for his life. Should the man die so soon after being imprisoned on my orders, the people he once inspired will look upon me with suspicion, and while we haven't seen eye to eye in many years... Odhran was once a dear friend. I was wondering if maybe you could discern what's causing his ailment?"

Stella was no doctor, but with limitless knowledge came the potential for answers.

Stella

 

[Stella]

The matchmaker remark earned him an unrepentant, pointed stare. The following question did not change the expression. Even before the Wisdom rune fell into her care, Stella had a perfect memory. But where the eddies of time slowly cast unending stream of memory into a mixed bag, the stone assisted her in maintaining a mental timeline. After a hundred years, it could be difficult to recall when one similar day happened over another. After several hundred years? They all mostly ran together.

In the end, all the information her mind contained pooled together, assimilated as wisdom.

That Odhran Carvyre had incited a riot last year might as well have been ten minutes ago for her. But for all her experience and years, she had not expected the issue to be illness. Stella blinked from her internal discourse of musings and stepped back into the present, affording the conversation her full attention, "I am no doctor," her words parroted his thoughts but not on purpose, simply coincidence, "but I am willing to assess his health and symptoms that I might know of a solution. If I cannot help, I will seek the minds of my medical betters elsewhere."

"I will see to him now, if you wish."

 

[Solomon Regis]

Solomon nodded sagely. He wasn't expecting a cure from Stella, but her vast wealth of knowledge owed her more insight than he currently could muster himself. "Of course. That is all that I request of you. I am not so callous as to deny the incarcerated proper care, and with his daughter attempting to make noise in the city as of late..."

He trailed off, giving a shake of his head. Stella would not care in the slightest about this political theatre Odhran's daughter was attempting to start. The Absalon wouldn't trouble her with it unless it became necessary. For now, he slid his hands behind his back and headed for the large ornate doorway of his chambers, looking behind him towards Stella, a silent gesture for her to follow him to the dungeons.

This late into the night, most of those living within the Tower had retired for the evening. Only housekeepers and Vanguard assigned to the winding halls to protect both him and the Stones wandered now, giving both he and Stella respectful bows of the head as they passed. The dungeons were not originally a part of the tower, having been constructed by Valenntenian hands when the city reached a size that begat some level of criminal activity to combat.

Respectable in size, the several dozen cells were never fully utilized, due to a relatively low crime rate even now, but last year had been the first time such a dubious feat had been nearly accomplished. Odhran was the last of that group that remained now, thanks to his role as instigator and refusal to show remorse.

The narrow, winding staircase that led beneath the grand hall was dimly lit, cold, and dank. Every footstep echoed far into the depths below. Despite that eerie passageway, the dungeons themselves seemed rather well-maintained. Torches kept the entire hall of cells illuminated, though half were extinguished at night to allow for enough darkness to sleep. Two Vanguard were stationed on watch, and one immediately marched over to greet the pair.

"He's been sleeping most of the day, but his condition is worsening Sir, Madame. Can't get him to eat, barely get him to drink. I don't know..."

Solomon raised a hand up slightly and nodded. The guardsmen turned and led them to the largest cell, placed far back in the stone hallway. through the metal bars was a man around The Absalon's age, thin and wiry, with frazzled gray hairs coating his face like a silver lion's mane. Dressed in old noble clothing that had seen better days, the man lay on his side, pale face blotched with dark blue bruises or something that resembled them.

"Stella, meet Odhran Carvyre, once the second most powerful man in Valenntenia."

Stella

 

[Stella]

It had been some time since Stella had visited this area of the Tower. It was not often that she partook in any business dealings with prisoners, prompted only by the request of the Absolon for purposes of either memory retention of information, or clarification of known intelligence. She followed in silence, discomforted as she was by the narrow and small spaces. The largest cell was still quite stifling for her metaphysical self. Physically, she had plenty of space. Spiritually? Mentally? Stifling. She was filling out every corner of the dungeons with her presence and fit to bursting the seams of the foundation.

Dragons like their enclosed dens, but this was far too small and cramped for her personal liking. She recalled with great clarity now the same feelings of claustrophobia from each prior visit. Best to wrap this up quickly.

Her eyes settled upon the miserable prisoner not with pity or disdain, but a keenness for detail. After several moments of study from afar, Stella gestured a delicate hand at the lock of his gated door and opened it with the invisible will of magic. Lock-picking spell ... after her own capture by hunters on several different occasions over the years it had become an essential skill in her repertoire of tricks.

Pressing the gate open, she stepped through to the man's bedside where she bent down to more closely inspect his face, "Master Carvyre, I have been requested to assess your illness. If you please, lay on your back," she gently placed a hand on his shoulder to assist him should he not resist, noting his apparent lack of strength and energy.

"I do not recall an ailment of this nature in Valenntenia for all the years I have known this city," Stella remarked aloud, mostly to Solomon, "are there records from before my arrival of such things?"

 

[Solomon Regis]

---

Odhran POV by Doonaday

Odhran lifted his head, a worthy attempt as he groaned long and deep before shifting to his back as the woman had asked. “The city poisons me.” He muttered, a dry cough soon to follow. “Not much a dragon can do against the people.”

He had glimpsed the vision of Solomon as Stella helped him to his back, and a smile curves on his face. His teeth had yellowed, from illness or lack of daily hygiene, but it still held that conniving edge Odhran Carvyre was known for. The same look in his clouding eyes mirrored that of Lale, his eldest daughter.

“We are graced by the Absalon’s presence, my dear.” He did not speak to Stella, nor the guards stationed at his cell. His eyes seemed to look past Stella. “If only we had warning of his arrival, we could have cleaned up better, could we not, Little Liya?”

---

Solomon felt his gaze slip away from the sight of his oldest companion in such a sorry state. It brought an ache to his chest that he couldn't combat, seeing a man he'd spent so much of his time with reduced to a withering husk, speaking to him in tones not quite sane, but not insane. This, more than anything else, was Solomon's failure. His failure to steer a dear friend from a dangerous path, and his failure to protect him when he needed defending most.

"His daughter had her own examination done. They believe it to be a slow-acting poison from the Falwood." Solomon spoke gently, still uneased by the ghastly visage of Odhran's smile. "I've been unable to confirm such a theory, and if somebody is poisoning him, I am oblivious as to who it could possibly be. Very few can enter here, after all."

That Odhran still spoke to Liya was heartbreaking, and The Absalon knew not if such words were borne of his illness, age, or an attempt to further guilt him into despair. There were times Solomon thought to allow Lale in for more frequent visits, but... Solomon feared for the girl's heart, seeing her father in such a state.

Gods, Solomon wished to see him through this. That maybe the strong, wise man he'd once known was still somewhere inside of him.

"The only symptom he exhibited before his arrest was a noted increase in aggression. His temper grew short and he began to have frequent outbursts of rage... Nothing like this though, this... rot."

Stella

 

[Stella]

"Indeed," Stella agreed with the man about a dragon being otherwise powerless against the people where lighting the entire city on fire was not concerned. Not that she had ever considered such a thing - she was a civilized dragon, not a savage beast of yore.

She took her time examining the man, making mental notes of all the necessary things a Doctor might. Her own inhuman senses allowed her further insight, but nothing in the form of new answers. Conjuring a small crystal phial with her magic, she carefully pricked one of his fingers to retrieve a sample of blood, then applied a healing spell to the tiny wound. Her bedside manner was quiet and gentle as she fixed his blankets and gave him fresh water before taking her leave of his cell.

"I have knowledge and familiarity with a vast array of poisons and toxins, but none that perfectly fit his symptoms," Stella admitted to Solomon, the lock of Odhran's cell sliding into place behind them, "I will create a clarifying potion that should help abate some of his symptoms but it will not cure him. It should provide me with more time to investigate these theories. But Solomon," she closed the space between herself and her friend, giving a glance to the ailing man in his cell before speaking low to the Absalon, "I make no promise to any outcome. I will do what I can... I am but a dragon, not a miracle worker."

 

[Solomon Regis]

Solomon watched Stella work with somber eyes and a morose frown. It wounded him so, to see his old friend suffer in such a manner. Not only that, but to be accused of bringing about such pain by so many, to be suspected of torturing a man that he considered to be a brother... it brought an ache to his chest that in any other circumstance would have caused for great alarm.

Odhran was quiet as he was tended to by the Dragoness, only low mumblings beneath his breath as she treated him with the same tenderness and gentleness that she'd given Solomon, that fateful night he'd stumbled lost and wounded into her den so many years ago. It was a beautiful sight, to watch something so powerful perform a task so fragile, so caring.

It reminded The Absalon why he found Stella to be so special, why he considered her to be one of his closest and most trusted friends.

Finishing her task, Stella left the cell and reported her findings. There was nothing definite, and all she could promise was a bit of time. Of course, he'd expected no cure, not after one cursory look-over of his ailing friend. Solomon offered a sad smile to his Wisdom Guardian, offering a small shake of his head. as she spoke in hushed tones.

"I would never ask a miracle of you, Stella. That you came here and paid him a moment of your time is already a debt I owe you, my dear friend. Thank you, for helping."

Stella

 

[Stella]

"Mmm, yes," Stella agreed, her eyes narrowing faintly at him over a thin smile, the pupils slitting, "I await your repayment with great anticipation."

Generous she may be with her care and patience, Stella was still a dragon and a dragon's services never came free. Solomon was quite familiar with the trade.

"Well, I will be off then. The potion will be ready by this evening. Beyond that... only the fates know."

Her head dipped in a gentle bow to the Absolon and then she was on her way, following the path out of this wretched space and back to the open air of the tower and the city beyond.