T. A. Star
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32 - We Will Use You
🕑 Added 2023-11-06 21:32:01 +0000 UTC
Mister Oerwynt,
I am writing to request your presence at the Estate of the Noble Wayland House in Tulimeir of Tulim in regards to a matter of utmost importance regarding the divine item within your possession. During my travels performing my duty as an Adventurer, I discovered a prime candidate for consideration. It would behoove you to make haste with the item before the imminent Purge of Krafti when travel will become impeded and
“So, when exactly are you bringing her?”
Paul paused writing the letter on the desk in front of him that was beginning to feel more like his own. He had slowly been converting the study to be more to his liking but, between meetings and training Phoenix, he hadn’t made much progress.
The lord looked up to peer unamused at his younger sister and said flatly, “Not today.”
Patricia frowned and rolled her eyes at him, “It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve returned with her and that is the same answer you have given me every time I’ve asked.”
“And it will continue to be my answer until I believe she’s settled enough,” the paladin responded, attempting to go back to writing his letter to his old teammate. It was still early in the morning and he wanted to finish in time to stop by the mailhouse before his meeting with Agatha, followed by lunch with Phoenix and more training.
The runeforged sat down in the plush chair across from him without invitation and continued prodding, “You told me she’s picking up her Adventuring License today, I’d say she’s settled.”
Paul didn’t look up as he corrected, “Now she has to settle into her new duties as an Adventurer.”
She scoffed at him, “Then after that I’m sure you’ll find some other thing she’ll need to settle into.”
“That’s the plan,” he said without missing a beat.
“Paauul,” she whined as though they were both kids again, then leaned forward to try to get his attention better, “This is your Protégé we’re talking about here. How do you expect me to properly protect her from the aristocratic vipers if you won’t even let me meet her?”
“With your own viper’s tongue, Pati,” the ex-paladin responded promptly. Then he finally paused, glanced up, and inquired, “Are you trying to tell me it is beyond your capabilities?”
“Please,” she said in mock offense, “I’ve been able to keep them chasing their own tails. Unless she does something outrageously public, there won’t be a soul who knows she even exists.”
“Public spectacles are not really her thing from what I’ve seen so far,” he said before turning back to his letter once more, “She’s rather non-confrontational unless attacked first.”
“And I might have known that if you’d bring her here!” Patricia exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation before rocking back in her chair and muttering sadly, “It’s like you’re afraid of her meeting your family. Like you’re ashamed of us…”
Paul stopped his pen strokes and leveled his gaze at her, “That is not true, sister.”
“Then help me understand!”
He gave a long sigh and finally set his pen down and matched her posture as he explained, “I’ve told you she’s a Wayfarer. When she landed here, she was powerless, lost, scared, and under constant threat from both monster and Magi. I’ve built rapport with her but she’s having trouble learning to trust the people of this world, with good reason.”
“You barely trust people,” Patricia pointed out.
“I’m learning along with her,” he said in all seriousness and the runeforged sobered, “We both need time, Pati. Getting thrown to the snolves without having a single person to confide in is not going to make your job any easier and could easily destroy the relationship I’ve built with her and that’s not something I want to risk right now. So please, show me some trust and wait for me to let you know when she’s ready.”
His sister gave a drawn out sigh but didn’t argue, merely nodding in acquiescence. Paul watched as she leaned forward again and pulled the piece of paper he had been writing on towards her and read over it, her face contorting in anger.
“You’re seriously writing to that prick?” Pati asked in disgust.
“He has something I need,” the paladin answered simply.
“Then send a messenger. He doesn’t need to come here,” she argued.
He met her eyes and stated bluntly, “I don’t trust anyone else.”
They stared at each other for a long while, neither blinking or glancing away. They didn’t even breathe as the silent battle of wills filled the space. Patricia finally blinked and looked away with an annoyed huff as she tossed the paper back on the desk and promptly stood, “Cheating Emerald not needing to blink,” she complained then waved towards the letter, “That makes you sound like a pretentious prick as well, you know. He’ll never respond to something like that. He might even think it was a trick or trap of some kind and vanish again.”
‘She is correct, Wayland,’ the background voice within his mind added in that constant monotone, ‘There is a 94% chance that Oerwynt will not believe it is you.’
As Pati turned and left the study, he picked up the piece of paper again and reread it himself before huffing in annoyance, crumpling it up, tossing it in the fireplace, and pulling out a fresh sheet.
Jerem,
I’m back in Tulimeir.
I have a Protégé now.
Bring the weapon.
- Paul
Paul found himself once more in the office of the Branch Director of the Alliance of Adventurers and unhappy with the events that were unfolding around him. Agatha Trayvious had requested his presence at a meeting concerning an upcoming mission but had failed to mention the additional presence of the cinderen man sitting beside him. The two men sat on the other side of the large desk Agatha claimed as she looked between the pair who were pointedly not looking at each other.
“Well, let’s dispense with the pleasantries and I’ll just get to the point of why I requested both of you here today,” the runeforged said, aimlessly shuffling papers around her desk as an obvious distraction.
The cinderen spoke first, “If this is some sort of powerplay-”
“No, Duke Tul,” Agatha said quickly, cutting off that line of thought, “I am merely abiding by your own request to be informed of and included in discussions regarding any missions that might deploy one of our few Emerald Casters or involved either the Soul Reapers or the Purifier’s Renseres.”
“You have a mission for me then?” Paul asked as calmly as he could at being ambushed like this.
“You can’t possibly be considering on sending a Fallen-”
“Please, your grace,” the director interjected once more, “Remember, you are here as a courtesy. With the blood moon nigh, we need to put aside our differences and past grudges in order to best serve the people of Tulim.”
‘Should we set his hair on fire?’ the feminine voice said from within his mind and Paul glanced over at the man he had a rather contentious history with, ‘There is not much so it should not hurt too painfully.’
He tried to hold back the smirk the mental image conjured but replied silently, ‘No, Bela. Now be quiet, please.’
Paul’s fellow hostage grumbled in discontent at the Director’s words but fell silent with a curt nod and gestured for her to continue.
“Thank you,” she said with a return tilt of the head, her long dark braids falling forward and she pushed them back behind her shoulder as she continued, “We’ve gotten reports of potential Soul Reaper activity at a Reality Rift near the southeastern edge of the tundra, just across the border with Epa Toivo.”
“What is Marquesse Surul doing about it?” Duke Tul asked, seemingly deciding to ignore Paul’s presence and focus on Agatha’s report instead.
“Please, Victor, you and I both know that Surul doesn’t do anything himself,” Paul said sourly.
“That’s Duke Tul to you,” the cinderen growled then continued addressing the director, “The Toivoans have protection treaties in place with Kun Nul Lun. Have they dispatched anyone?”
The former paladin tried his best not to roll his eyes as he also chose to respond to the Duke through Agatha, “The King there sits up in his pretty, heavily guarded, palace in San Gra Lan and only cares about his own people. He won’t risk draconid lives to help the sandstep voxen, despite whatever protection treaty he signed in exchange for better trade.”
“The AOA stationed there should still have honored the treaty and posted a mission,” Tul said in growing agitation, his grip on the arms of the chair tightening as though trying to keep himself from lunging at Paul.
“They did,” the director said, obviously not trying very hard to hold back an amused smile, “Nobody responded within the first week, I’m guessing due to similar reasons that the king seemed so unmoved. So they opened it to the entire country and increased the reward, as per procedures. After another week of no suitable teams stepping forward, they have called upon neighboring nations.
“Which brings us to the problem of not having known about a problem that threatens one of our own border towns until now,” she said darkly, “We had a team nearby that happened to be accompanied by one of our Emeralds and dispatched a runner to relay the new mission. Which they accepted with the additional request of reinforcements.”
“Which Emerald?” Paul asked curiously. He had already made a point to meet with most of them after arriving back in town to make clear his intentions of assisting with the blood moon and building some rapport. He had a reputation to repair, after all, his sister had dutifully informed him.
“Talvehtia,” the director answered with a slight sigh.
“Talvehtia?” Victor repeated incredulously, “The man can barely take care of a floof and you want him running head first into a Rift with Soul Reapers?”
“What were the reported enemy Castes and numbers?” Paul questioned trying to get a clearer picture of the problem.
“No solid numbers but the reports mention many Sapphire Caste auras,” she read from one of her papers.
“Cages or Casters?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” Agatha responded with a frown, “It’s because of the unknown that reinforcements were requested.”
“And you want me to be the reinforcements?” Paul questioned, assuming that’s why he was being included in this conversation at all.
She nodded and the Duke scoffed again and muttered, “I’m not sure he’s much better than Talvehtia.”
“Talvehtia is normally an Emerald Caste Smith, your grace,” she reminded with the patience of a saint, “He had agreed to go on missions recently just to get some more hunting experience before this blood moon.”
“And a disgraced former Paladin is so much better?” the cinderen sneered.
“Yes,” she answered bluntly, “Lord Wayland has been a Midshift Striker with the AOA for over four decades. He has successfully completed over five hundred combat missions with experience in both teams and solo situations.”
She leaned forward slightly to stare at the Duke while she pointed at Paul and said sternly, “Despite your desires, this man is the most powerful Caster in the tundra and any mission we want to ensure succeeds at all costs will require his inclusion.”
Duke Tul stared at her for a long moment before slowly turning to finally look at Paul and asked, “And you accept this position of responsibility?”
That had not been what the ex-paladin had expected to come out of the man’s mouth and he raised an eyebrow in silent question.
“If you do, make no mistake, Lord Wayland. We will use you. We will despise you. We will fear and envy you. We will wring out every drop of power you can give and then keep squeezing,” the Emerald Caste Duke said without a hint of humor.
“The people of this city mean more to me than any ill reputation you may be dragging around, any threat that might bear down on these walls, walls that have stood for millenia, or any self-righteous agenda you may be trying to enact behind the scenes,” he continued.
“And once this is all over, once the blood moon is over and the Soul Reapers repelled, once the people of the tundra, my tundra, are safe and can live without fear of annihilation, we might even respect you,” Victor finished monologuing and locked eyes with Paul, “Do you accept the responsibility of keeping my people safe?”
Paul contemplated the man before him and the responsibilities he had already taken upon himself and slowly nodded, asking the director, “When do I leave?”
“In three days, I want to gather a few other people and then-” Agatha was cut off as an alarm rang in her office and a small model of the city near her desk showed the temple district flashing with white light and the small woman breathed out, “Shit.”
