Private Tales The Task At Hand

[Livia Quinnick]

There was a reason many Dreadlords on the task force to hunt down rogue Archons were here in Elbion. Although the number of those left to find were now merely a few, Livia had been put to work not just in the Vigilite, but with the task force. Now that her magic was no longer an issue, would not cause the wielder harm, Liv had poured hours into tracking over long distances. Consulting maps, artefacts from various cities to create zones of where to aim her searches.

Finally, Elbion called to her like a beacon she could not ignore.

She needed to make an appearance at the gala, where chance would have it, Alistair Krixus and Henk were present. Even Salak, one of her previous Proctors at the Academy, had been there.

The mission had been for her alone. No one knew where Alistair had disappeared to, or even Salak. Even Livia had lost touch with Henk after she set off for half a year to gather artefacts with Erodin, Amelia, and Cenric. Seeing her friend and mentor had struck her with a nostalgia for the days she were still an Initiate. A year had passed now, and yet it still felt as if years had passed since graduation day.

Finding Henk in this city was easy. No one could truly hide from her, especially those she knew well.

Livia Quinnick hid her surprise that her magic lead her to fine lodgings, but she should not judge someone on their surprising tastes when after all, Henk was able to afford a ticket to the gala and transport himself to Elbion. Dreadlords could live well off their wages, could spend it how they pleased.

He better be alone. Came her next thought as she made up the stairs that took her to a long hall where closed doors gave guests privacy. She stopped at the door near the end, raised a hand and rapped against the wooden door with four knocks done by double beats.

"It is Quinnick." She voiced, leaning closer to his door so that her name could be heard on the other side. "We must talk."

 

[Henk]

How different things could have been...

It wasn't the silken sheets, bubbling bath, or expensive wine that had drawn him to this room for his temporary stay in Elbion. It was the view of the city from the wide floor to ceiling window beside the bed, so perfectly facing the line where the sun met the towering buildings at dusk. The orange glow of the sunset soaked into his skin, filling him with a pleasant warmth from head to toe.

This place... it was a distorted reflection of Anir. It was an example of what could have been, had fear, hatred and greed not shaped his home into the militaristic force it was. Would things have been different for him here? If his youthful piety had been served and not stamped out? Would he bear these scars? The ache in his eye? The void in his heart?

Henk smiled, reminding himself once more that such hypotheticals meant nothing. What was, was. With the hand he'd been dealt, he had done all he could to better the world, rather than sink it further into depravity. That, Henk had come to accept, would have to be enough.

But now, the knock on the door he'd been expecting for some time. The voice he'd anticipated would follow. Closing his eyes, he spoke back.

"Enter."

As the latch clicked, and the door opened, Henk turned from the window to face his visitor. He looked a far cry from his appearance at the Gala; With his armor removed and arranged neatly on the table by the door, it was clear that the apparatus he wore, in combination with his cloak, only served to hide how Henk had bulked up.

A hand rose to his chest, his arm marred with old burns and singed flesh all the way up to his elbow, exposed by the lounge shirt the hotel had provided him. "Lady Quinnick," Henk spoke with a bow. "Your company is welcome, this evening."

Sliding his hands behind his back, as though he hadn't an inkling why Livia would be visiting him, he made his way over to the tea-set on the countertop by the furnace. "May I interest you in a cup of tea?" He did not wait for an answer before pouring two cups, having prepared it in advance.

"Or... are you here on assignment? I can't fathom what the Vigilite would want with a grunt such as I."

There was... something behind that last sentence. Not venomous, but lacking the layer of warmth that Henk usually spoke with.

Livia Quinnick