- Messages
- 36
- Character Biography
- Link
The corridors of the College were quiet at this hour - too quiet for his liking. Calixtus’s boots clicked against the flagstones as he moved, the sound crisp and deliberate, as though it might keep his thoughts from circling back to the one truth he couldn’t ignore.
Emrys was gone.
No word, no letter, no trace of his brother’s precision or pride. The Blodwyns were treating it as a family matter, which of course meant burying it beneath layers of silence and reputation. Calixtus, however, was not nearly so patient.
He reached the study hall where Bliss Gradimir was known to haunt late into the evening. For a long moment he stood there, jaw set, before rapping his knuckles lightly against the doorframe.
“Gradimir,” he called, voice smooth but edged with something taut beneath it. “You’re always so desperately buried in busy, I expected to find you sleeping on the table.”
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back. His tone was dismissive, even bored, though his eyes flickered with something restless.
“I require… a consultation.” The pause between words was almost imperceptible, but it was there. It was a rare hesitation.
“Of a magical nature. Discreet, naturally.”
He didn’t meet her gaze just yet. Better to control the narrative before she could sink her teeth into it.
“My brother has been called away on… business. Some matters of his office remain unresolved. I need another set of eyes on them.”
The lie was flimsy, transparent even - but he delivered it with such smooth arrogance that it nearly sounded believable. Nearly.
Emrys was gone.
No word, no letter, no trace of his brother’s precision or pride. The Blodwyns were treating it as a family matter, which of course meant burying it beneath layers of silence and reputation. Calixtus, however, was not nearly so patient.
He reached the study hall where Bliss Gradimir was known to haunt late into the evening. For a long moment he stood there, jaw set, before rapping his knuckles lightly against the doorframe.
“Gradimir,” he called, voice smooth but edged with something taut beneath it. “You’re always so desperately buried in busy, I expected to find you sleeping on the table.”
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back. His tone was dismissive, even bored, though his eyes flickered with something restless.
“I require… a consultation.” The pause between words was almost imperceptible, but it was there. It was a rare hesitation.
“Of a magical nature. Discreet, naturally.”
He didn’t meet her gaze just yet. Better to control the narrative before she could sink her teeth into it.
“My brother has been called away on… business. Some matters of his office remain unresolved. I need another set of eyes on them.”
The lie was flimsy, transparent even - but he delivered it with such smooth arrogance that it nearly sounded believable. Nearly.
