Opening Up

Aeron rubbed her arm self consciously as she walked behind Mercury. She wasn’t sure why the woman made her nervous. She’d never met Mercury before, and had only ever heard good things from Mythal about her. Well, he’d said she could get a little ‘rambunctious’ sometimes, but that hadn’t come across as a bad thing. Maybe it was just Aeron’s social anxiety rearing its ugly head. Or, maybe she was just projecting her insecurities about the destination of their walk. It was probably best to just not think about it too hard.

“Mythal told you how all this is going to work, right?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

“Xavier isn’t a prisoner that we’d normally allow any kind of visitation for. The only reason we’re making an exception is because Mythal was insistent that you be given the chance to confront him. Vandrad was very reluctant to agree, particularly given your… history.”

There it was. Suddenly, Aeron understood where her anxiety was coming from. She shrank a little under the queen apparent’s gaze, those emerald eyes regarding her with a mixture of wariness and… maybe not suspicion, but certainly a sharpness. Mercury was the one that Thana had kidnapped, back when she and Aeron were still just pieces of Calliope. And while Aeron hadn’t consciously contributed to that, she was still a part of it, if only by a technicality. The Knight nodded meekly. “I understand. I’d probably feel the same way. You know, if… if our situations were switched.”

Mercury watched her a beat longer before facing forward again, continuing to lead the brunette through the halls of the manor and down into the bowels where the prison awaited them. “Yeah, well… you just keep your nose clean and we won’t have any problems.”

It didn’t seem to be a threat. Or at least, it didn’t feel like one. Mostly, Mercury just seemed to be voicing her general displeasure over the situation. It was fine. Honestly, Aeron had endured worse from people that hadn’t even been targeted by Thana before, and just wanted to judge her from her past with the deceased warlord alone. At least Mercury had first hand exposure to validate her standoffishness.

“I won’t cause any trouble.” The promise was met with a hum of skepticism, but no further remarks. The two women walked in silence for several more seconds before Aeron spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

Once again, Mercury turned to look at her, a single brow raised upon her forehead. “For what?”

The Rune Knight shifted uncomfortably. “For… y’know.. My part in what Thana did to you. What we did. It’s…” She fumbled for words, reaching up to scratch the back of her neck and mentally berating herself for even opening her mouth in the first place. “It’s all really confusing, honestly. I know I wasn’t actively a part of what happened to you… but at the same time, I know I was. I can never completely wipe myself of the responsibility for the things Thana did when she and I were the same person. You have every right to be wary of me. But.. if it’s worth anything at all, I am sorry. And… I just want you to know that I’m not her.”

Mercury watched her carefully for several long moments before eventually turning away once more. “I guess we’ll know for sure sooner or later. Mythal is convinced of that, at least… and his word means a lot to both of us, which is the only reason we entertained the idea in the first place. So, we’ll give you a chance, for now.”

It was about as much of an acceptance of her apology as Aeron expected to get. She felt like some of Mercury’s coldness relaxed in that moment, but… the former dark mage had never been a great judge of emotion. So she just decided to leave the conversation where it was and quit while she was ahead.

After a few more minutes, they finally found themselves at the jail. A single guard was posted, who gave a small bow of his head to Mercury in acknowledgement. He made no effort to stop their passage to the cells, having been made aware of this meeting in advance, so Mercury strode right past him with a small wave, Aeron towing close behind her.

“It’s your lucky day, god-king,” Mercury announced as she came into view of the cell. While her tone wasn’t outright hostile – more neutral than anything else – it was certainly less warm than it had been even moments ago with Aeron. “You’re being allowed a visitor. I suggest you make the most of it, because it’s not likely to happen again.” With a snap of her finger, she summoned a backless metal stool in front of the cell door. “I’ll come to collect you in thirty minutes,” she informed the Rune Knight. Only after Aeron nodded her understanding did the Xocili finally turn and walk away, leaving the two alone with only the guard at the entrance of the cells to accompany them.

Timidly, Aeron approached the cell, ignoring the stool for the time being. She was dressed plainly, with a green jacket over a white shirt and black jeans. “H-hey Trev– I mean, uh… Xavier. I don’t have to stick around if you don’t want company or anythin’, I just thought… I dunno… thought I should reach out. Are you… holding up okay?”

Aeron rubbed the back of her neck, one of her standard displays of social anxiety. “I guess Mythal made them a compelling argument,” she explained, informing them who they had to thank for the opportunity.

She did her best not to stare at him, a task that was difficult for a number of reasons. The first being that he had clearly seen better days, at least if his hair was any indication. The Rune Knight wasn’t privy to how inmates were treated on New Rhaegar – though he would give her an idea of that in a moment – but she imagined it couldn’t be too much different from the Knights. Basic necessities, but no frills or luxuries. But on the flip side, the other thing that stood out to her, was that he had gotten really muscular. Now, Aeron still wasn’t really the type of girl to get distracted by attractive persons, or to even really notice them at all. Mythal was arguably her biggest, and most persistent, offender in that regard…

…but if she had to admit to another, it would be Xavier. She wasn’t necessarily carrying any sort of torch for the man, despite having been on at least one date with him and sharing a kiss at the end of it. And running away like a coward immediately afterward. But it would be false to say that she didn’t have at least a small crush on the man. He had always treated her kindly and patiently, letting her move at her own pace while also encouraging her to come out of her shell and challenge herself socially. So, there was a genuine, if small, struggle to keep her eyes up, the cerulean orbs flicking briefly below his neck before hurriedly forcing themselves back to his face.

Luckily the content of his answer kept her focused, and somewhat sobered. She chuckled slightly at his dark humor, though it wasn’t totally committed. “I’m… okay. Good, even. I’ve come a long way with my magic. I still have a lot to learn, and it will take a while to build my strength back up to where it used to be, but… I’ve gotten pretty good control over it, at least. And it feels nice to not feel totally helpless in that regard, y’know?” Perhaps an insensitive thing to say, considering all the devices disguised as jewelry that were currently keeping Xavier cut off from his own magic… but he still had his magic, even if his access was cut off for the time being. She trusted he would understand where she was coming from.

Shuffling slightly on her feet, a pensive look came over her. To anyone that had spent enough time with her, they would recognize when she had something on her mind but was struggling with how to bring it up or get started. She played with the zipper on her jacket, biting her lip in contemplation before finally speaking up. “Listen… the reason Mythal got this visitation arranged when I asked for it is because he thinks that you owe me answers. He wasn’t… super pleased to find out that you were the person I’d been spending time with. And I suppose if you want to talk about any of that while I’m here, then that’s fine with me. I’m happy to listen. But it’s… not really the reason why I wanted to come.”

As usual, she was having a hard time meeting his eyes during more serious and heartfelt conversations, shifting anxiously in place as a slight blush rose to her cheeks. “I just… I just wanted you to know that I understand. About why you hid yourself. I heard some about what happened from Mythal and Serilda, though I’m not sure if they left anything out or… or don’t know everything. But I’m not upset with you. And… I know what it’s like. To have a dark past, to have done a lot of things you aren’t proud of to survive… Hurting people, and being responsible for bad things happening to them… And if it hadn’t been for just one person taking a chance to trust me, to see good in me, and going out of their way to give me a second chance without judgment… well, I don’t think I’d be where I am today.”

“So I guess that’s why I’m here. I don’t have the same… power or.. Or influence to help you the way I was helped, but… I can at least be here to tell you that you’re not alone. I understand a bit of what you’re going through, and… if someone like me can turn their lives around and become someone better, then you can, too. No matter what you did, I’m still your friend.” She finally found the courage to meet his eyes then, even if it took a great deal of physically forcing herself to do so. But more than anything she wanted him to know she was being sincere. Rightly or wrongly, she was in his corner, even if no one else was.

Even if he felt he didn’t deserve it.

Aeron wasn’t entirely sure what she thought would happen with her little speech to him. A part of her, perhaps, had assumed that it would uplift him and make him feel better, that the knowledge that there was someone out there that didn’t hate his guts would raise his spirits and give him a sense of hope for the future. That’s how friendship was supposed to work, right?

Well, she was learning very quickly that wasn’t exactly the case. Rather than being moved by her firm declaration, he looked instead like the wind had been taken out of his sails. Had she done something wrong? Said something off base? Or maybe she just hadn’t made as much progress as she’d hoped in her social and empathic skills. She listened quietly, her own countenance dampened by seeing him in such a low state, doing her best to keep her focus on him and not on her own failed attempt at comfort – though he did, toward the end, admit that he was happy to hear that she wasn’t planning on tossing him to the curb like everyone else.

When he finished with his response, it was her turn to stand quietly for a moment, the brunette churning his words in her mind and giving them careful thought. “I don’t care about that,” she finally told him softly. “You never owed me the truth. Not as far as I’m concerned. We barely knew each other. We still barely know each other. Your past, the things you went through, the things you did… that’s all personal. I’m happy to listen to whatever you decide to share, but it’s not my business and it never was. You may have hurt a lot of people, sure… but I’m not one of them.”

“And people like us? We don’t deserve second chances.” Her eyes averted, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “We deserve a lot of things, but not mercy. Not understanding, or… or forgiveness. We get those things because other people… people better than us… give them to us, anyway. It took me a long time to understand that, but it took me even longer to accept it. If I’m bein’ honest, I still don’t think I’ve fully accepted it, most days…”

“But whoever you were back then, Xavier… that’s not the person you are, now. Not from my experience, anyway. Not that I’m the best judge of character but… I know a snake when I see one. I’ve spent enough time with snakes. You’re not one of them. You care. You care about the people you hurt, and you care about the fact that you hurt them, and if that’s not a good enough reason for people to give you another chance then the whole system is fucking bullshit.”

Aeron had rejoined society because she had been made to believe that she’d misjudged it’s goodness and importance. Sure, people had their issues, and not everyone was nice. There were loads of people out there that weren’t evil, but were still selfish and inconsiderate… but there were just as many that were kind and compassionate, people that inspired her to rise above her baser nature and aim for something higher, no matter how many times she stumbled along the way. If people couldn’t at least recognize that she was doing her best and giving it genuine effort, in spite of all of her numerous faults… then what even was the point of society? At that point she may as well go back to living alone in a cave, worrying about only herself.

“Look, I know I can’t just… walk in here and make it all go away. And I’m the last person that should be giving anyone advice about… well, anything. All I want to know is this: Are you going to keep trying? She looked back up at him. “If you get the opportunity to do the right thing, are you going to give it your best shot, even if no one else thinks any better of you for it?”

It was hard to stand there and listen to him be so hard on himself, to see the hopeless acceptance that weighed down his shoulders. Is this how Mythal had felt every time he’d witnessed Aeron tear herself down? How had he made uplifting her look so easy? Mythal had always known what to say and how to say it. He still did. But for all her best efforts, it seemed she didn’t have the same skill, to lift someone out of their own darkness.

She was silent for about as long as he was, staring at her feet and feeling like a fool; like she had only made things worse for him. Maybe she should have just stayed home. It was Xavier who broke the deafening quiet first, admitting that he did have some information that Vandrad and the others wanted. Information that he hoped would help them with other mysteries they had on their plates, which he planned on handing over freely without bartering for clemency. Aeron turned her chin up slightly to look at him as he spoke about the situation, content with treating that as his last chance to do the right thing. He even smiled. It was… good to see the expression on his face. It wasn’t big, but it felt genuine. Enough so that an equally small one tugged on her mouth as well. It felt totally backward that he seemed to be the one comforting her in that moment, but… at least he was smiling.

“Then… that’s all I needed to hear,” she told him simply. She couldn’t make him believe that his life wasn’t over, and maybe she couldn’t even give him any hope or reassurance with her faith in him… but that didn’t mean she had to let go of that faith. No matter what he’d done in the past, he was trying to be a good person now, just like she was. She was sure of it, and that was all that mattered to her.

The Rune Knight throught briefly about what to say next. She was sure Xavier was interested in hearing more updates about her life, and originally she’d thought to tell him that she was having some troubles lately. Every once in a while, out of the corner of her eye, she was sure she’d been spotting Thana out and about in the crowds while Aeron was working, or otherwise out in public. It was just fleeting glimpses, and by the time she’d focused her attention there was never anyone there that even remotely resembled the woman. Aeron knew Thana was dead, of course, but it didn’t make her feel any less uneasy. Especially when she knew that Darius could only answer so many questions when it came to Ataxia’s avatars, making the all-knowing archmage less than reliable on the topic.

But she’d been enough of a downer on Xavier for today. He had more than his own fair share of problems, and now that he was smiling again she just couldn’t bring herself to put another frown on his face. So instead, she reached into an interior jacket pocket and withdrew a plastic bag. “I uh… may have smuggled in some cookies.” Her cheeks went bright pink with sheepish embarrassment. She’d been sure she was going to be forced to empty her pockets before being allowed in the jail, but Mercury hadn’t even performed a security search. At least, not a physical one. At one point the queen apparent had looked her over and it had felt more like the woman was looking through her – so, maybe she had other means of checking for weapons and the like. But, no remark had been made about the snack tucked away in her jacket. She held it up. “Wanna share?”

Presuming he didn’t decline, she’d hand him one of the delicious, chocolate laced pastries and pulled up the stool, happy to just chat with him about lighter topics for the rest of the time they had left.

---

Meanwhile, in a different area of the island, another round of meditative training was finishing up. Ryori sat in a circle with Vandrad, Saffron, Cedric, and Victoria. Vriko was also present; after Ryori had learned that the former bandit had been training with the rest of them prior to Ryori’s arrival, and that she possessed Faera’s blessing, Ryori had extended an invitation for Vriko to join them. Vriko may not have had any connection to the Weave, but the fraction of godly power she possessed was no less important to hone, and she was a fierce believer that meditation could help any mage with their craft, no matter what brand of magic it was.

The mental exercise had been going on for several months at this point, with Ryori having gradually introduced other training into the mix over time. She was well aware that the vast majority of the group was not altogether thrilled with the practice of emptying their minds for long periods of time. Very few of her students in the past ever had been. To most, meditation was boring at best and infuriating at worst. But to those who fought through their initial misgivings and frustrations, determined to learn, they would start to see the results before long. The vast majority of the group needed little by way of additional combat training. While there was always room for improvement and growth, they were all well trained enough that she felt such work was less critical with her, especially given that most of them still worked on physical combat together outside of her own lessons. That would change, eventually. Soon, even. But for now, her focus was on making meditation as thoughtless and easy for them as breathing, and most had come quite a long way.

Most.

“That’s enough for today.” Her soft voice cut through the silence, rousing each of them from whatever amount of trance – or not – that they’d managed to achieve. Rising to her feet, she brushed bits of grass and dirt from the back of her pants while the others stretched and shook some mobility back in their limbs. It was still morning, but the afternoon sun would soon be upon them.

As talk broke out about getting in some actual physical exercise, Ryori turned her gaze to one of her pupils. “Cedric, do you have a few minutes? I would like to discuss something in private, if you don’t mind.” Assuming he agreed, she’d nod a silent farewell to the others and in the blink of an eye they were gone.

The island of New Rhaegar would be replaced by the sight of a large and isolated prairie, tucked in a valley between some mountains. The only man-made landmark was a single quaint home set behind a small brook. Wildflowers of all colors grew as far as the eye could see, though it was obvious that effort had been taken to cultivate them aesthetically around the home as well, the flora sprouting from a number of pots and boxes around windows and beside the front door. A well used dirt trail lead away from the house and up into a smaller hill behind the house where a small grove of trees sat, and if Cedric took the time to look carefully he might catch a glimpse of three large stones set side by side of each other, the middle one taller than the two on either side of it.

Silently, she led the way inside. The interior of the home was as simple as the outside, the space immaculately tidy and minimalistic. The main room they walked into served as a joint kitchen and living space, with a small table in the kitchen. A two seater couch with two upholstered armchairs were centered around a gray stone fireplace, and a couple bookshelves rested against one wall, filled with tomes new and ancient, many of which were written in obscure, if not unheard of, languages. Two doorways off to the side led to a small bathroom and bedroom, while a worn wooden staircase forged a path to the upper floor. While there were certainly a few personal effects in the space that made it feel like a real home, it was lacking anything along the lines of pictures.

Ryori moved over to the kitchenette space and gestured to one of the chairs at the table. “Please, have a seat. Do you drink tea?” She picked up the kettle that was sitting on the stove, filling it with water from the tap before setting it back to heat up over the fire. If he expressed an interest in the tea, she’d pull a cup for him as well as herself from the cupboard.

“I wanted to discuss your training. Your relationship with your magic seems to have strengthened since we first started working together. In fact, I think you are coming along nicely in that regard; I know my methods aren’t exactly what the rest of you would prefer, but there has been an improvement in each of you, enough that I think I will be switching things up very soon. However, I think at this point I’ve seen enough to know that you don’t share a connection to the Weave like Vandrad and Saffron do.”

The remark was made gently, as though she understood this was – or at least, could be – a sore spot for the former Dread Master. She turned where she stood, leaning up against the counter with her arms folded over her chest as she looked at him. “I don’t mean to discourage you, of course. Very few people are capable of communicating with the Weave on a broader scale, even back in my day, and no amount of training can force someone to create that connection if it doesn’t already exist. So, I think it’s time we shift your training to something that will be more beneficial to you.”

“But before we can even begin to work out a new game plan, there is a deeper issue I think we need to address: I can sense that something has been troubling you lately, something more than just frustration with attempting to access the Weave. There is an… imbalance… within you. Normally I wouldn’t make it my business, but I can sense that it’s distracting you and hindering your progress, even if your poker face says otherwise. My lessons amount to fuck-all if you aren’t focused enough to embrace them. So… what’s going on?”

Despite the wording and her matter of fact approach, her tone was not that of a woman demanding an answer. If he refused to talk, she couldn’t force him to do so. But any teacher worth their salt had to be able to recognize when something in a student’s life was hindering their education, and it was obvious to her that whatever was going on with him, he’d been bottling it up for some time. So, she was going against her more private and aloof nature to open the door for him, giving him a safe space in which to express himself openly. And to her credit, there was a softness to her expression that betrayed she was bringing it up not solely because it was interrupting their work. There was a genuine interest there, perhaps even something that could be considering caring -- it was hard to tell with her, sometimes. But the floor was open to him, and it was up to him to decide if he was going to talk about it or not.

It was understandable for Cedric to be frustrated by the confirmation that he was, for lack of a nicer way to put it, incapable of manipulating the Weave to the same point that his companions could. Or even communicating with it at all. It was a sore spot that she hoped to alleviate for him soon, but for now other matters were more pressing to discuss. He did briefly attempt to brush off her query, but Ryori merely waited in patient silence, without any air of expectation; Cedric was well aware at that point that she took her trainings very seriously, perhaps moreso than even Vandrad did, and trusted he understood that this was an attempt to help him in the long run.

Her composure was rewarded only a moment later as he began to explain some of what was going on, both when it came to their training in the Weave and also with his personal relationship with Saffron. There had been a shift in their dynamic recently. Ryori had sensed it, of course. One didn’t need the Weave to see that they were keen on each other, nor that they were having a rough patch of some kind. The Omen had assumed that was the reason they’d both been off balance lately was due to some kind of lovers disagreement, though they both mostly composed themselves well in front of everyone else. Neither could fool Ryori, of course… but after a time, it became apparent that Saffron was handling the situation better than Cedric. There was an underlying peace in the blonde, an acceptance and understanding of her pain that kept it from consuming her, which Cedric did not seem to possess.

The former Dread Master might be surprised by Ryori’s reaction. Rather than ridicule him or dismiss the issue as an unacceptable excuse to fall behind, she merely… nodded her head gently in understanding. “Matters of the heart are always the heaviest to shoulder… and the most difficult to navigate.” There was a softness to her statement, one that perhaps spoke to experience – and a deep level of it at that. She was quiet for a long moment as she thought, giving his words on the subject careful, perhaps even thorough consideration.

The kettle began to whistle, the pot enchanted to heat up water more rapidly than a mundane one. As she turned to turn off the fire and poured the clear steaming liquid into the teacups, Ryori told him, “You and I have a great deal in common. More than I like admitting, anyway.” She had, of course, learned some of Cedric’s background and childhood in the course of understanding the groundwork upon which is training and education had stood, and while she was sure he had left out a large number of details, she’d learned enough that she felt she could infer a few of the spaces inbetween.

The Omen pulled forward a jar that was resting at the back of the counter, withdrawing what appeared to be two hand made tea bags attached to strings and placing them in the cups. “My formative years were spent among people who viewed me only as a tool. I was a fully grown adult by the time I developed any sense of humanity for myself, and that only happened after I had escaped the circumstances of my birth.” She was leaving out a vast number of details, glossing over the finer points of what one could only assume was an unforgiving start to life. However, her generalized statements were coming less from a place of not being willing to talk about it so much as not wanting to overload him with a minutiae of information that strayed from her conversational destination.

She moved over to the table with a plated cup in each hand, placing his in front of him before setting her own down and taking the seat opposite him. From the cup his nostrils would find a fragrant herbal aroma kissing the air, a robust and earthy scent that was sure to be unlike anything he’d smelled – or tasted – in a tea before. Holding the string, she carefully bobbed the teabag in the water a few times, allowing the mixture to infuse properly into the water. “Most people start to figure all that shit out as kids; socializing, friendships, familial bonds, navigating disagreements and romance. Those skills – and they are skills – are a lot tougher to learn as an adult. You, at least, seemed to have picked up enough talent to convince others you were reasonably well adjusted. I did not.”

There was the barest of smirks that tugged on her lips, the first sign of humor that didn’t come at the expense of someone she’d spoken ill of. Ryori was well aware of her own faults, namely that she was hardly much of a people person, and wasn’t afraid to take a crack at herself over it. Withdrawing the bag from the liquid, she set it on the small plate beneath the cup. “I can still remember how fucking frustrating and confusing it was to learn how to care about others, and myself, in a healthy way. Or, even more baffling: to learn what it meant and how it felt for others to care about me. There were people in my life that were willing to show me, but I was… mistrusting. Cynical. Angry. To say I was a piece of work would be putting it in the mildest terms. After all these years I’ve learned to overcome most of that, but even to this day I can’t say it’s completely gone.”

She blew steam from the top of her mug and took a small sip, savoring the brown liquid in her mouth before swallowing it. “The matter of your training with the Weave is it’s own thing, and I’m sure you’ll come to terms with it well enough in your own time. As for everything with Saffron…” Ryori’s voice trailed off for a moment as she thought. “I don’t have the audacity to assume I can solve that problem for you with any worthless platitudes. I have heaps of my own experience that I could probably spend hours boring you with, but the lessons I learned may not help you or be applicable to you in the same way they did me. You can ask for advice and feedback from others all day long, but ultimately it’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.”

“What I can offer you is my observations… and perhaps a place to start: you describe the situation with a lot of reason and… what we’ll call an ‘academic’ logic. You seem to understand the situation well enough… but those words don’t match the weight that you’re carrying about it inside. Logic and emotion rarely operate on the same spectrum. So, you can recognize the situation for what it is, but that doesn’t change how you feel about it deep down. Set aside the logic for just a moment… What do you feel..?”