The tavern door was flung ajar; quite unremarkably, as it often was. From it, a man stepped forth while customers busied themselves within. None paid him mind; people arrived and left at all hours of the day, and this was easily the busiest one of it.
“
Kiros?”
The call rang out through the tavern filled with patrons – all of whom were all busy eating, drinking, and conversing. None gave it much mind – aside from Kiros himself, who sat with attentive stillness at the mention of his name. He had just finally recovered from
Itra’s horrible smiting. Worse still, he'd found himself without his supply of shade to treat the terrible pain of it all. Even making it to the tavern had been an effort of itself. But after so many days and such an abysmal ‘quest’, beer was simply sorely needed just that badly.
“Have I got a ‘Kiros’ here? Big guy, white robes?”
His eyes shifted across the room, watchful for any patrons that the name might be plausibly referring to. Kiros had the common sense to do away with his robes at least, having opted for a simple tunic and trousers for his outing.
“Name looks Kaliti…”
Fame was the last thing he wanted. It had been thrust upon him on encountering that weird old man, and making discovery the fact that Itra had done the unthinkable and revealed Herself. And as She had shown, it would be much better had She
not. Whomever this man was, he'd be much better off
without the assistance of ‘Pneria’s Prophet’.
“
Hey, you! Do you happen to know this
Kiros?” The man asked next, a finger pointed directly at Kiros himself. He looked back at the man for an awkward moment before he spoke in response – out of seeming necessity.
“I actually do. But I implore you to believe me – you ought not seek him out.”
“Uh…I'm mail delivery. That’s sort of the thing I'm supposed to do.”
“Oh.”
“Look, whatever. I don't know who he is, I don't care who he is – but if you know the guy, can you just give him this letter when you see him?”
“I’ll…see that this reaches him, yes.” Kiros responded before taking the sealed letter and stowing it on the table in front of him. The conversation had been awkward, and he needn’t make it more so by reading a letter he had
just stated wasn’t for
him. Once the carrier left, and after a few moments more for safety, Kiros finally had a look.
It had been sent by Visha of all people; the crazed pyromancer he had mistaken for ally during the battle with Geladryx. He’d no clue if she had ever realized that herself. It was possible; if she did, perhaps the letter was a trap.
Heirahit's newly bestowed enchantment detected nothing unusual, no matter how he moved the envelope about the staff. Carefully, Kiros tore open the envelope and pulled the folded paper out to give it a read. He was honestly wondering what had happened after he’d blacked out anyhow.
…the answers of which were evidently lost to Visha as well. Most of her writings had been on the topic of that pitfall trap she’d found herself in and of desire to enact her mad brand of vengeance upon the culprit.
She still didn’t know that they had been of opposing forces.
That he was utterly perplexed by the letter was a severe understatement. He knew little of what to make of either it, or her. The thought of falsely accusing one and earmarking them for her vengeance came to mind…but she and Kiros clearly had differing ideas on what vengeance actually entailed. Neither did he know what to make of the favour Visha had concluded her letter with, scarcely recalling her having made mention of such when they first met.
He'd no inclination to reply under normal circumstances. And while the smiting he had received had been high and far above 'normal', the lack of any shade with which to treat it had made the ordeal of recovery all the more gruelling. He had imagined the innkeepers had stolen it during his coma, and alcohol as a painkiller was a poor substitute.
Did Visha steal it?
Perhaps. Would she also bluntly admit it if asked?
Oddly likely; the woman was about as blunt as a battle mace.
If for no reason other than to find out, Kiros actually wrote her a response. Having already accused the innkeepers, he needed to confirm that Visha had not been the culprit and his blame had not been misplaced. Well, once he had access to a dictionary and confirmed the spelling of the word 'Sincerely'.
Trade was such a backwards language.
Dear Visha,
I’ve naught any clue of the battle's conclusion either, regrettably. Nor am I yet aware who was responsible for the pitfalls. Well, should I discover that, I shall let you know.
And no, I’ve not redeemed that favour before our departure. But fret not about it.
Sincerely,
Kiros
P.S. You didn’t happen to acquire my ‘medicine’, did you?
