Private Tales Khronos and His Children

[Tedesco Buscha]

'To the honorable Councilor Quintus of house Vexion,

It is with a heavy heart that I must write to you, for it is a tale that I am reticent to divulge. Although it burdens my heart, my duty as a citizen of Allaria and my honor as a man demands that I redress the great injustices that I have bore witness to...'

A pedestrian life had never been meant for Tedesco. It was his father's own fault, really. All of the ambition that he displayed was a direct reflection of what Giachet Buscha had wanted from a son. He remembered when he had initially been found out, and his own father had the gall to say that his ambitions had gotten ahead of him. Had he not been the one that had told him that the world did not give unless one first took? Perhaps he'd thought of Hertstead as a way to cool him down, but it had not gone that way at all. The months of his isolation had only proven to imbitter the resolution within Tedesco. A resolution that he'd come to long ago, but had been too merciful to act upon.

All of his lessons as a child had been centered around one core concept. The reality that if he waited for good fortune to come his way, someone else would snatch it out of his fingers. His father had thought himself immune to the consequences of his own lessons. Unfortunately for his father, Tedesco would not be opposed to dragging that old decrepit figurehead down into the mud if that's where he wanted to play.

For all of this, at its heart was a game. Pieces on the chessboard, and whoever had the best angle would get the prize.

"... Within the pages attached to this letter, there are detailed accounts of Council Giachet Buscha's affairs. Even as the heir apparent, I was not aware of the business that my father had been privy to, and when I uncovered his litany of crimes, he banished me for speaking out against him..."

This letter would be the first in a series of quick moves towards his father. Racketeering, blackmail, and bribery were the very cusp of what lay as evidence within the notes, memorandums and letters that Tedesco had kept for just a situation as this. At first, Tedesco hadn't wanted to drag his family's name through the dirt, nor had he wanted his father to bear the legal repercussions of his actions. He had still been his father, and he had never detested what he'd done. Those tactics were so common place among the greater houses of Allaria, that no one would bat an eye unless it was brought to public.

Some of the other councilors would undoubtedly know what was happening here, but if he were able to create enough political pressure it wouldn't matter. Thus, great enemies might become great friends.

"... I fear my father may be watching my movements, but I still wish to meet to discuss further material that I have in regards to this matter. I know that our houses have not always seen eye to eye, and that is why you must believe that I am sincere. I know not who else might listen to such a plea, for my father has great allies that would not hear me out..."

There was no doubt that his father had been watching him, but the courier that he had sent the letter through would be trustworthy. He had spent months making certain that he had a secure channel to Allaria that wouldn't be monitored by anyone. That had been the most difficult part thus far.

"... I apologize if I am being bold, but I would beg of haste in arranging a meeting place. Somewhere secluded from Hertstead, where I am exlied and Allaria, where my father might have spies.

Tedesco Buscha"

He looked out at the vineyard that had been the original purpose of this estate. He ached to never see them again, nor to walk among the streets of Hertstead and be hailed by these peasants as some kind of equal. How he missed the arches and bridges of his home, and the manor that should so rightfully be his. A snap brought him back to the moment, as he looked down to see the crumpled remains of his quill in his hand.

It would be important to be calm and collected in the near future, but for now he could be angry. Angry for all of the wasted moments that he'd languished within the walls of this cell.

Time enough to wait for Quintus' response, and the return of Tedesco.

 

[Quintus Vexion]

Quintus' father never cared much for the Buschas and neither had his father before him.

Quintus, however, never cared much for the conflict outside of paying enough attention to keep himself from getting stabbed in the back. It was an old grudge, brought about by names he couldn't remember in a time that no one thought about when going about their day to day lives. The conflicts of the mundane had become rather trivial to Quintus. For a time when he was younger and perhaps more foolish, those were the only things that mattered. He was either using his sword to protect his family in the streets from some political rival or overseas fighting someone who looked nothing liked him all for the chance to rebel from the monotonous life that was provided for him as the son of one of the Merchant Councilors of Alliria. It wasn't until he took up the responsibilities granted to him by the power of the Star Made Armor that he understood there were threats his small mind at the time couldn't hope to comprehend. Beings he's faced who's names he could not even pronounce... and the many creatures that waited in the dark to do their bidding. Those twisted creatures were at eternal war with the voices and powers that whispered to him and wielded him as their weapon. Both a blessing and a curse.

Still, there was something in him that made it difficult to ignore the scion of Buscha's missive. Quintus danced with the idea that perhaps there was a hidden desire to see the patriarch of the house fall. That maybe because of the position at the head of his own family, it would be the right thing to do to appease his ancestors by seeing him laid low for all of the wicked things he'd done in this world. The side of him that he liked to listen to the most, the side that he allowed to speak and pray to the gods to whom he owed reverence and responsibility wanted to believe he did this simply because it was one less evil in the world. The part of him that loved Alliria and everything that it stood for.

To Tedesco of House Buscha,

It pleases me that there are still strong and upstanding men prepared to uphold the honor and sanctity of our home. It has long been my desire to see the rifts between our families mended, that we might make a better tomorrow for ourselves and by extension, all of Alliria. The intelligence you send me along with your letter was alarming to me and I would happily assist you in seeing justice done. My family owns an estate outside of the city, a day's ride North and by the sea. None keep to it outside of the men that guard it and those that maintain it. I will await you there in the coming days. No spies will find you there.

Kindest regards,

Quintus of the House Vexion, Merchant Councilor of Alliria

And so it was...

The path to the estate was winding after the guards let their visitor in through the first gate. They guarded it with torches to light the way ahead of them and cold, hard, steel. It's quality came from some Vexion forge in the city most likely. They would ride with Tedesco through a winding path in the country side beset by hills and low hanging trees. The road gave way to a small keep of beige stone that overlooked the Allirian Strait. And as promised, Quintus waited within in his study.​

 

[Tedesco Buscha]

The wind caught his cloak as he travelled through winding roads near Allaria. The first leg of his journey had taken him close to Allaria, where he had left his courier behind. It had seemed less conspicuous to travel by himself the rest of the way, without his guards or servants. It might be more dangerous, but it would be less likely that his father would expect him to travel alone.

Tedesco's horse was of sturdy stock, and it carried him gracefully up through the low hills that framed the road. It felt nice to be away from Hertstead, even if it was only for a small amount of time.

The keep was quaint, all things considered and it looked to be in good condition even if it was not regularly used He dismounted his horse and pulled a bottle from the saddlebags of his moutn. The way to Councilor's Study was brief and he found himself in the company of the great Star Touched Knight. He had heard of him through reputation, only. However, the history of their families stretched back beyond imagining, and it had never been for mutual gain. Perhaps, within the walls of this small keep, they could rewrite these sordid histories.

"Councilor Vexion, it is my pleasure to find you in good health." He offered a reverent bow to the Councilor.

With a flourish he presented the bottle that he'd brought with him, "This is but a small token of my appreciation for your hospitality. A bottle from our vineyards in Hertstead, where I have been presently confined to. Perhaps it will show a token of my good faith in this meeting."

He sat the bottle down on the table as he took a seat in the chair opposite Quintus.

 

[Quintus Vexion]

"You are far too kind. Your good faith is very much appreciated, friend. Come, sit."

It was strange what men gave and accepted as tokens of friendship. Alcohol, land, and gold were the bane of men both great and small. For all the benefits they provided, each one came with the promise of creating enemies. There would always be desire and jealousy. There would always be mortals with ambitions that were too great for their own good or the good of anyone else. And yet here they were, trading and dealing in such things. It was in moments like these and dealing with others the way that he was trained to that he wondered what exactly he'd proven himself worthy to the gods of. He fought and he killed other for coin in his lifetime and in it, he learned to protect the person fighting alongside him. He understood sacrifice to his very core and the gods lifted him up to become something more lofty than he would have previously imagined himself... And yet he was here, mending something in the mundane by trading in poison, power, and information.

The armor should kill him the next time he put it on.

Then again, imagine how many lives we are saving here. Imagine what good you could do with one less enemy in the world.

That was what he reminded himself of as he slid in the seat across from his visitor. For a moment he sat quietly, looking over the bottle that Tedesco had brought him. He popped the cork and began to pour the contents of the bottle into two goblets on the table.

"My father would tell me often that when I ascended to his position in our House that there would be none outside of my own blood that I should consider an ally. He was smart, sharp, and he did much for our House... but imagine what all he could have done if he'd made peace with our enemies."

It was his desire to be a different man than many of his forefathers were. Oftentimes he wondered if the handful of men that wore the Star Made Armor before him were burdened with such thoughts after seeing the gods themselves beneath the helm. Everything else seemed so small. So many sins could be forgiven and there was no blood spilled that could not be cleaned. This was good for the both of their bloodlines. Quintus wanted to remain true to what was best for them both.

"I hope that we may speak plainly and honestly here as people and not politicians. The latter rarely do anything great in the world and the former are what makes it spin."

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