RP:Faithful Are the Wounds of A Friend

Part of the The God of Undeath Arc

Part of the Welcome To The End Of Eras Arc

Summary: Valrae invites Kasyr and Lanlan into her home for drinks. Surprising absolutely no one but herself, the night ends in disaster.

Room for Entertaining

The long hall opens into a comfortably furnished sitting room. Couches and chairs are grouped around wide hearths or short, polished tea tables. There are fresh cut flowers on most open surfaces arranged neatly in crystal vases. A bar rests against the southern wall, heartily stocked for distinguished visitors to the city. Waitstaff in clean black uniforms move about the room, serving guests and elected members of Cenril’s government as they relax or work. Long stemmed and crystalline glasses line the wall behind it, with several vials resting on a shelf just below. Northward is the mayor's official office.

Valrae || As the sun sinks low into the ocean off of Cenril’s shore, the mansion has been cleared of guests and staff for the evening. All but the guards were released from their services in the expansive home, which made the grand space strangely silent as Valrae rushed through her final tasks for the day. Her heels clicked loudly against the marble floor as she crossed the room to gather the already prepared tray of meats, cheeses and crackers. Jars of honey and jams, seasonal fruits and olives that were grown from Cernil’s own olive groves, had already been sat out. There were treats from Khitti’s bakery that her staff had fetched for her, as well as more savory things she’d had made in the kitchens. The impressive and thoughtfully prepared display was arranged in an artful way on a long table that sat before a hearth empty of fire. Summer was hot in Cenril, and with no need for a fire, there were instead dozens of lit candles dripping pools of waxy white onto the ashen stone. The tall windows were opened, allowing the sea laced breeze to cool the room and carry in the duskiness of night and the earthy, sweet scents of expansive gardens in full bloom. Near the high backed, plush ivory velvet seating there was a cart heavy with crystalline glasses and chilled carafes filled with the liquor from the bar. She’d even made sure bloodwine was part of the selection, her need to be a gracious host outweighing her squeamishness and distaste. Nerves mingled with a sense of excitement in Valrae’s chest. These would be her first personal guests in her new home, one that she often passed through with the sense of a misplaced stranger. There was a naively hopeful feeling that all would go well nestled like a glowing ember between her ribs. This hope persisted despite the mountain of historical evidence that was contrary to its existence.

Kasyr once again feels out of place. It's not the city itself, coated in the light of a bloody sunset- it's squalor sequestered to alleyways and slums. That, at least, feels like home in a certain sense. What perturbs the swordsman is the letter in his hand, it's saccharine invitation to an oasis of civility, as though it had any place in their current situation. Some part of him hopes that this, at least, is simply pretense. An attempt at pleasantries to wash out the taste of total annihilation. But there's an odd sort of anxiety linked to the letter he'd received, along with a lingering hopefulness- which has the swordsman already sifting through a predetermined list of excuses he can use to extricate himself from a social engagement. It's only when the sun finishes its descent, and streets begin to grow dimmer that he finally finishes his stroll through the streets- an uncanny exactness to his arrival, hearkened by a trio of knocks. Still, Valrae may be in for at least some semblance of a pleasant surprise, given that the Kensai -isn't- sporting a small arsenal of weaponry for once. No, due to some admonishment disguised as advice (Or vice-versa), he's actually dressed as a prospective politician might when visiting a 'neighbor' in the field. Just for this 'occasion', he's allowed himself to be talked into a set black spider-silk pants, a light blue dress shirt, and a surprisingly crisp looking charcoal vest. One that has been notably divested off the Kensai's every attempt to smuggle sharp implements inside of it. There -is- technically a tie as well, but it's long since been loosened past any sense of properness. "Good impressions my-" Is that footsteps? Best behavior now, like a good trained monkey. "Merde."

Lanlan was found in relative wellness by the owl. Physically at least. The rest seemed to be fluctuating at an exhausting rate. When the owl drops a note on his head and proceeds to explode into glitter, he paradoxically only sighs as it bounces onto the ground. There it lie for unmeasured time. He picks it up. Scanning the contents doesn’t seem to trigger any measurable reaction, save a second sigh. He drops it unfolded onto the closed archmage’s compendium. Once, its legendary contents seemed to taunt him. The many secrets and successes of the ones who came before him were always just out of reach, or when they weren’t? They judged his eyes unworthy to see. Today it wasn’t even worth the effort it took to open it. Rather than question it, he escapes to Cenril, where there seemed to be optimism for him to leech.. He arrived at Valrae’s new manor wearing fresh clothes for the latter half of the day; dressed all in black brocade corners and straight edges, with only the occasionally shimmering silver runes (styled like a kind of paisley) to break up the shadows. The sun had gone down, but his reflective midnight colored glasses stayed on anyway. He measured the room through them inch by inch. A large placement for the ‘smallest of gatherings’. His sunglasses hid his surprise at seeing Kasyr here well, and his heart was known to skip beats occasionally. “You made it,” he says, as if he knew who was coming. “Looks like we’re both early.” He kept a manageable distance in case he underestimated Valrae’s disappointment in him.

Valrae || Guards would welcome first Kasyr, and then Lanlan, into the Mayor’s home. They escorted them to the entertaining room without comment, moving off again as soon as they reached the opened doors. Valrae waited, nearly springing from her seat as Kasyr arrived. She’d felt the moment each entered the city, in the faraway awareness that came from their bond, and felt as tense as a bow’s string as she crossed the room to the revenant. “Kas!” She says, smiling. She was surprised to see him dressed in fine clothes, secretly pleased at how the lines of civility, no matter how feigned, suited him. She’d worn a simple gown herself, a long chemise of white silk underneath a gossamer kirtle embroidered with golden stars. “I’ve got drinks, some food,” She waves a hand behind her to the place she’d arranged for them to be seated. “There will only be one other person joining us.” She adds, giving him a heavy look between kohl dark lashes. She’d hoped he might have already guessed it was Lanlan before his own arrival. As he enters, again dressed in shadows save only for the glimmer of silver like starlight in the form of runes, Valrae turns her wide smile to him and waves him toward the food and drink as well. “We’re all here!” She announces happily, regardless of whatever mood her guests have landed upon. Before the witch moves back toward the place she’d arranged for them to sit, she closes the heavy doors that lead out toward the foyer. “Before you even start on me,” She warns Lan, giving him a stern look as she crosses to a high table and plucks up a heavy, slightly larger than palm sized, pillar of fluorite and a black velvet bag. She places the crystal on the hearth and whispers, magic tumbling from her lips to crowd the room. The fluorite glows, as if sunlight had been caught between the layers of ocean blues. “No one but the guards have been permitted to enter the grounds, and I’ve taken every precaution. We won’t be overheard.” With that, she perches herself on a seat between them, reaching out for her own glass of sparkling white wine. She takes a small drink of it. “Make yourselves comfortable, please.” The small bag was still clutched tightly in her free hand.

Kasyr manages something like a half smile, which is mostly a -very- forced attempt to avoid his lips curving into a sneer. It's a considerable bit of work, but he manages- the guards' arrival providing him something (someone) other to focus on. Maybe this -would- be work related, It's a small hope, in any case, one that allows him to go through the motions as Valrae steps over to him, a touch of genuine warmth entering his expression, "Valrae. C'est bon de vous revoir. Which es to say, a pleasure- as is your hospitality." As she clarifies the attendance of another individual, he does his best not to look in the direction of the open doors, his gaze already flickering off in search of the seating arrangement she'd picked out. And yet, the swordsmans tactical attempts at preparing to ignore the Archmage Incumbent are abruptly de-railed when Valrae begins to quietly run through the reasons why their gathering was suitably clandestine. It -is- work then. That, at least, is something he can work with- and allows him to re-evaluate all parties present. Notably, whilst this was work related, she hadn't asked after the book currently stashed away in his vest- which implied something tied to her own mission, or some other need-to-know development. It's while he mulls on this detail that he finally takes a seat and deigns to actually recognize Lanlan's presence, "How's the office been treating you?"

Lanlan turns away from Kasyr without ever conceding any awareness, and goes to whatever treat filled table is the furthest away. Unless it happens to be the baked goods, those are being acutely snubbed on principle. A drink floats over to him, meeting his fingers as he pretends to browse. As Val anticipates his ire warning him not to start, he has an earnest response. He mumbles, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” A smile for her accompanies the sarcasm. “Ah! So it’s ‘business’ after all.” He seems vaguely disappointed. “Not to worry, I’ve learned it’s better simply not to divulge anything and assume the worst conceivable outcome in every situation.” Even accepting invitations. “We’ll kill the guards if one of us says something regretful.” He of course had no plans to, but why should he be the only one with his life implicitly threatened just by being here? Behind his glasses, he squints slightly as the fluorite basks them in unexpected light. ‘Make yourselves comfortable’ she says, and he tilts the stem of his glass up, channeling its contents smoothly down. Then another one finds him so he doesn’t have nothing to do. He plans to nurse it, until Kasyr speaks his gibberish-tongue. The eyeroll carries his head in a circle that coincidentally leads to his new glass. Just a sip though, for dignity’s sake. “The office? It treats me well. As it happens there’s something that I’ve just learned which would be of a particular interest to you!” It really would. “But lets save that for after, shall we? Valrae has something far more important to say.” He raised his glass toward her slightly, and prepared mentally for chaos.

Valrae had smiled in delight at Kasyr, quickly chirping, “The pleasure is mine!” Before she was laughing at Lanlan and giving him a long and quiet look from across the room, “I’m sure you’d figure it out,” She bites back, leaving his words against her guards without a response. Then she is seated, crossing her legs at the knees, and resting the black bag on her lap as she smooths the thin fabric of her skirts. The bag in her hand held a fine powder of lapis and black salt. With the right spell and motions, it would be able to reveal the usually hidden silver cord that connected the three of them now. This was the most pressing reason she’d called the two men here. When she would reveal this remained to be seen. She’d hoped to ease them into it, to start a conversation that would not lead either of them towards threats and petty insults. She’s pleasantly surprised by how well it was beginning, especially as Kasyr opens up the conversation to polite, small talk avenues with Lanlan. The witch nurses her wine as they speak, hiding her smile behind her glass as she waits to steer them into deeper waters. “I was hoping,” She starts as Lanlan offers her an opening in the conversation, though she passes him a look of confusion that indicates she had no idea what he might mean, “In the right setting,” Her dark eyes move between them as she speaks carefully, “That we could have a polite conversation about current affairs and where we stood as a… Kind of alliance against Caluss.” In truth, she didn’t know what they were. This was not exactly the lion’s share of that group. There were key members missing, most notably Khitti, who also shared some animosity for Lanlan. But she did know that the weight that had been resting between her shoulders came from the fear that they would never succeed in defeating the God of Undeath, no matter what that looked like or what choices they might make, if they could not stand in a room without the fear that they might kill one another. So, if they could not agree to this on their own terms, Valrae would show them the magic that now served as a promise of mutual self destruction. “That is to say, I’d like to address the homicidal giant in the room that both of you seem to be nurturing.” She continues, “I’d like to know that in the end, we’d only be fighting on one front. I can imagine that the rest of us who have thrown our lot in would be offered a great comfort if the three of us manage to come to some sort of agreement.” She thought it might have taken her longer to get here, but Val had never been known to skirt around a point for long. So, she placed this at their feet openly. A simple request that the two of them stopped trying to find excuses to kill or seriously injure one another.

Kasyr has one of those awkward smiles on his face again, specifically when Valrae snaps at Lanlan. Not because it's awkward for the Kensai to see it- but because it's difficult not to join in. Still, Though the urge to snark hangs heavy in the air- it's not long until the witch provides them an imminently more pressing conversation topic. Whilst the nature of the cord itself was curious to the Kensai- he still had a passing familiarity with it. A memory of tugging on it, even as Daedria sought to temporarily lay claim to him. Some bleakly curious part of his mind actually reaches out to it- his fingers trying to take hold of the ethereal string, only to strum at nothingness instead. Yet, where physical strength fails him, curiosity does not- as the swordsman begins to scrutinize the empathic strands which are laid into the thread- the signs of his companions woven into, "Something you couldn't risk saying in front of Khitti, Kanna, or Tessa's creature." Weak Spots for this sort of information. That is, if she even intended on telling him. She'd avoided it yet again, weaponized politeness and a simple plea- plausibly so she didn't -have- to explain what had occured. "I would like to think my restraint in dealing with our cher colleague here has been commendable. Et this is -despite- a rather committed campaign of sabotage, et denial of resources that would benefit our endeavors." He's behaving, but it's so hard- because as he looks at Lanlan, he's already waiting for that familiar expression of smugness, and the rapid shift into something that might befit a 'victim'. Some indignation that the rest couldn't see things his way. "Perhaps if he didn't continually add to the tally, I wouldn't feel compelled to keep score, madamoiselle. But, if you'd like- I can provide an itemized list of all the recent complications he's levied at our feet." There's a moment where he folds his hands, and then smiles at Lanlan- in a disconcertingly genuine way, "Unless you'd like to. It might give you the chance to say voice how it somehow made sense.."

Lanlan is happy to let his threat fade into nothingness, it was empty anyway. A joke that maybe only he would find funny. The meeting begins with the three in very close proximity. The closest that they’ve been in a long time. But they were connected, and the actual distance hardly changed the feeling they all probably felt. And it looked peaceful, but whether or not Kasyr or Valrae were aware, it had in fact already escalated within that tiny measure of smalltalk that encouraged Valrae’s secret smile behind her drink. But Valrae distracted him with her long and winding build up. As she speaks, he waits for his turn and smirks. Yes, it was smug.. He believed he knew what Kasyr would say to this, but it would be fun to hear, and so he edges himself with waiting. Finally, a reason to live! It was better than he’d hoped. Yet victory in this instance, was not to be achieved by taking the moral high ground. Though make no mistake there was a game being played and a victory to be had… If Valrae was going to sit between them she made herself the judge, so he need only appeal to her. “Actually, I think you invited the wrong person, Valrae. You clearly meant to ask Kasyr and Khitti here, because I have no problem whatsoever with working toward a common goal with people who detest me.” It’s just rhetoric, he isn’t going anywhere. He pauses for a bubbly sip though. “Obviously. Right? Otherwise why would I have saved your life for the second time?”

Valrae watches Kasyr closely, knowing that he had the most awareness of the secret that she’d brought them together to share. A strength here, a terrible weakness in other ways. The witch seems to have been pleased that he’d already figured out why the guest list for this small meeting had been so narrowed. She only nods softly as his hand moves out to something beyond all of their reach. She doesn’t speak when the revenant begins to defend himself or point out Lanlan’s actions against him, her lips moving into a demure frown as her drink reaches them for another delicate sip. The frown only deepens as they continue. “I don’t think that-” She was going to respond to Kasyr, as he mentioned scores and tallies, but Lanlan cut her off. The smugness in his tone sends dread and annoyance in equal measures through her blood. She could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping toward her temples. “I couldn’t invite Khitti here,” She protests, knowing that eventually she would have to reveal why. What Kasyr had already suspected. “I cannot fix everything,” She adds, in a tone that belied her endless exhaustion on that particular subject. “And I’m not particularly interested in keeping score between you, either.” She places her glass down on the table beside her and closes her hands in her lap. “Has it occurred to either of you that, as a whole, we’ve done more self sabotage to each other than Caluss might have managed if we’d simply started treating one another with a bit more kindness and respect?” Her eyes flicker between them. “What if Quintessa’s actions could have been prevented if we’d spent less time arguing and trying to kill one another and more checking in? Could one of us have seen the path she was on if we’d looked close enough? Would Caluss have gotten so far with his corruption of the trees? I ask myself this often.” She pauses, thoughtful for a moment. “I think of all of us, Khitti might have known the longest. I wonder what our current circumstances might have looked like if she’d felt comfortable offering what she knew to her archmage, or a friend.” She takes up her glass again. “We worked well together when we…” She always struggled to voice what had been done to Kasyr. To her, it seemed a great disservice no matter how it had saved his life. “When we returned Kasyr’s power to him. But even that was filled with arguments and pettiness. Magic is fickle, do either of you ever wonder if what befell us that night could have been avoided if we’d entered that space with more trust? And if we are keeping score, Lan, Khitti saved you. She saved all of us.”

Kasyr can't help but morbidly wonder what would happen if something worse were to happen to the cord- if, perchance, some iota of that dread essence that fueled him was applied to the thing. Would it eat away at the strand, corrode the link that connected them, and their bodies along with it? Perhaps nothing might happen. His thumb runs against his forefinger as he peers at the thing, only lifting up as Lanlan goes through the motions of being a, "Prat." and Valrae tries to moralize about how the power of friendship might have stopped Quintessa's nature from devouring her from the inside out. He honestly can't restrain the snort that escapes from himself, "Really? I don't think more hugs would have helped Tessa. She was willing to endanger, et to deceive -anyone- that cared about her. The only solution then, es the same solution as now." There's a pause here, before the swordsman finally smirks, "But fine, I can start with how things -could- have gone better if we worked together." One finger lifts up here, pointed at the ceiling, "If I hadn't been kicked out from the mages guild in a petty powergrab, and still allowed the resources I'd accrued, including research specifically focused on -killing god-things."It's here he pauses to shoot a small little smile to Valrae, alongside a, "Thank you, by the by." It slips away though, replaced next by, "Oh, but, that's not all. No. Because that act of pettiness was also accompanied by -Literally- conspiring with an -Undead- cretin, who was parading around in an actually competent archmages' body." The second finger shoots up here, even as the Kensai leans forward, "An empty shell that -could- have been subject to Caluss' attention, that you left unattended because it suited your ambitions." A third finger pops up here, "And then you had the gall to actively hinder me regaining those papers." The fourth finger crops up, along with a playful wiggle of those gathered, "Sending Inks to kill me, after failing to fully inform her of a situation that you played party to was -also- quaint. I'm wondering what part of 'Team building Exercise' that was?" The thumb's up now, "Also, prior to all this- You spent a year trying to kill me. A -year-. You stopped being worth my time to harm after 5 minutes." And this is where the last finger pops up, the Kensai flipping him the bird on the other hand, "Also, the fact that you had the gall to take credit for Saving Val at the tree, when you were busy lying face down in the muck. Va T'en Foutre." It's upon saying all this that the Kensai hits an abrupt sort of Cathartic serenity. Like all that agitation boiled up, and then just releases all at once. With a small puff of air, from a breath he really didn't need, he gets up, and goes to pour himself a glass of bloodwine, and get a touch of chocolate, "Do either of you need anything? I'm asking for you too, Lanlan, since you seem unable to get anything with your own efforts."

Lanlan obviously wasn’t getting through to her by being (what he would call) generous. Then it was time for another drink. He props his elbow against the back of his seat and leans his chin on his hand, facing away from them as he listens. It was typical, it seemed to him, that his actions and words meant to condemn actual crimes, were equated to the crimes themselves. “No you couldn’t invite Khitti here. She has kids to take care of and a bakery to run and freight to import and dead bodies to fondle. Or whatever they do over there.” He just rolls his eyes at her handwringing at not being able to fix everything. Then he spins his head back toward Valrae. “You know what the actual cause for all this dysfunction is?” Lanlan wears a sadistic smile now, as if nursing a truth he’d been harboring for a while. “It’s that everyone’s okay with it. Most of the time. I told everyone about Quintessa. Because I -did- see signs.” He takes another sip and turns away again. “Didn’t matter.” Then he chuckles. “Oh Khitti knew? And didn’t say anything? Of course, and Karasu knew too then, didn’t she? But it’s our fault-or really, my fault. That they didn’t say anything.” He threw his hands in the air mimicking a eureka moment. “It’s all starting to make sense to me! Wow!” At least he was entertaining himself now. Until the end of Valrae’s speech when she decided to update the scorecard. He gently rests the glass down on the table. “And why did my life need to be saved that day, Valrae?” He scoffs, surprised she would remind him about that.

Lanlan takes a deep breath as Kasyr begins his verbal violence against him. There was a voice inside his head. It said ‘you don’t need them Lanlan. You never did.’ It was a consolation in these times when everyone seemed to be against him. He listened, but he didn’t speak. Somehow he knew that if he did, Valrae would only see him in a poorer view. It was painful. To learn that Valrae snuck behind his back to help Kasyr. ‘How casually she betrays you!’ Most of it was true to a degree. He did gain something by working with Ernest. He did exile Kasyr from the guild. He did hope Inks would confront her father. He doesn’t remember trying to kill Kasyr for a year, but he can embellish if he wants. Not until the last point, does he spare a look for anyone. He tilts his head slightly back toward them, so he can see Valrae in his peripheral. But its quick, and he turns back from them again. She didn’t want to hear any of his explanations. He knew that. Kasyr leaves them at the end of it, to go acquire refreshments for all of them. Now he’s prompted. ‘You only need them to do what’s required, Lanlan.’ He takes another breath and with a shaky hand, puts his empty glass on the table. “I don’t need either of you to do anything but what’s required to kill Alithyk Caluss. After that we can part ways.” Part of him hurt to say that. Hurt to hear it be said. But not as badly as he thought.

Valrae felt her mouth fall open as Kasyr spoke again. It felt for all the world like she was watching some horrible disaster play out before her. Her cheeks bloomed red as he dismissed her musings as something so simple as ‘hugs’ in regards to Tessa, which quickly gave way to boiling indignation that painted her cheeks a blooming pink. “That isn’t what I-” Be he was still speaking, dragging each skeleton out of the closet to throw them out into the light between them. She watched as he counted them off, feeling helpless to stop whatever was happening. The witch desperately wished for some off button, a lid to the box she’d opened. She might have laughed as Kasyr finished, but instead her head slipped back as if he’d landed a physical blow with this final revelation. And Lanlan was more concerned with donning his victimhood, aiming it at her like a sword. There is a look of hurt that crosses her, one she struggles to hide. “I didn’t mean-” But again, she cannot finish. He reminds her that she was the reason he needed saving. She says nothing for a long time, only sliding further back in her seat to finish what remained of her wine as Kasyr crosses the room. “I’d have more white,” She answers him in a small voice, ignoring the final insult he threw Lanlan’s way. Quintessa and the moral puzzle that she represented crowded her mind as she sulked, lips bowed into a pouting frown. She couldn’t help but feel as if they’d both turned that against her. She took their words personally. Especially Lanlan’s, as he claimed what she heard as the cause of all of this turmoil having been born of her stubborn unwillingness to jump towards violent ends. She felt small and naive, daring to hope that there was a grain of goodness within her that could have grown to outshine whatever desire she’d been cashing that led her to Caluss.

Valrae || That hurt resurfaced as Lanlan finally spoke again, it cut deeper than the accusation that she might be weak. “Lanlan,” His name falls from her lips like a gasp. Instead of arguing with him, the witch takes up the black bag that had been resting in her lap. It was with little joy or flair that she completed this bit of magic, emptying the powder onto her palms before leaning close to whisper magic into her opened hand. It swirled about the room as if carried on an unseen tempest, glittering like black starlight around them. When it had settled, the silver cord that bound them was revealed. “This is why I couldn’t invite anyone else here,” She says, looking toward Lanlan. Her eyes were wide but unusually closed off. “When Kasyr was dying, I used magics that… That I didn’t fully understand. And it was beyond me, it required more than I knew. It chose you, Lanlan, because you were close or because… I don’t know.” Her thin shoulders roll into a long, slow shrug. “Whatever it was, we’re bound now. I felt it when Khitti brought us back and then again when Caluss attacked the tree. When you died.” She could have pointed out here, in their game of scores, that it had saved him, but she had never shared their desire for blood. She looks away from the drow now, back to Kasyr. “I assume you felt it too. I don’t know the extent of its power, but I do know that we are bound and whatever happens to one of us… Well, the consequences will reach all of us.” It wasn’t as if her motives were purely altruistic. In fact, they had been born of a great deal of self preservation, though she was perhaps more interested in the preservation of the two men sharing the room with her. Even when it seemed they might not share that interest, particularly Kasyr, who had always struck her as someone who approached his own continued existence as something of a small chore. At least she could count on Lanlan being concerned with his own well being, even if it was at times furthered at the expense of others. “That is why I could not invite anyone else here.” She waits, her chin tilting up a fraction, before adding, “And you could put as much distance between us as you’d like, Lan, but we are connected now.”

Kasyr doesn't really -need- to say anything more to Lanlan at this juncture, as the magus seems more inclined to direct his sullen outburst at their host. Instead, the Kensai simply stacks a few bottles worth of what Lanlan had been drinking onto a tray, and flicks a bit of electrical energy into the metal itself- enough to send the item surfing over towards the drow. "I found a few bottles for you to wallow at the bottom of." Oh, he's just -enjoying- this now. Lanlan retracting any semblance of 'friendship' after their long antagonism, was just- "Gods. Damn that's funny." It's a mutter, but one that makes it a bit harder to collect Valrae's order, which he puts a bit more care into delivering, since he adds a few snacks on so she can snack her misery away. Hence sorted, he's just in time to sit down and bear witness to the magic trick proper- half expecting for it to carry on into a more -practical- application of what it does. Instead, she continues to be diplomatic, even in the face of their continued antics, even going so far as to try to draw them both into the conversation, to a point of civil conversation. "I'm assuming it was his death that -brought- me there in the first place. It was hard to miss." There's a certain sense of distate that accompanies the statement, before his attention flicks away now, not wanting to see what sort of satisfaction Lanlan might take out of the realization. Instead, his next question is aimed for the witch, "So, what es it that you want from this, anyways? Despite my grievances, I've left him alone. Despite -everything-. Even before I had realized the bond was there." ...Though, to be fair, it had curbed some of the temptations.

Lanlan stood out of his seat and stared at the cord over the rims of his sunglasses and seethed. He’d seen the cord before, in a place almost like a dream. In a place he didn’t want to remember. And now here it is again coupled with the revelation that it was Valrae who looped it around him, binding him to her and Kasyr. It was as thin as could be, but after finally mustering up the strength to do what was ‘necessary’, it held him back like a heavy chain. And there was something else. “You killed me to save him.” It was so obvious looking back at what happened that day. He wondered if some part of himself didn’t want to believe it could be true, and that’s why he neglected to consider it. His mouth opened, but no words followed. The anger was burning frigidly now, that while he was revealing a secret part of himself to her, she was keeping something so critical from him. “And…you tell me now because you’re afraid that if one of us would die then you would too.” Kasyr directly in front of him was preparing a volley of glass bottles clearly designed to embarrass him more than hurt, and he used them as an excuse to close the distance between him and Valrae. Everything distinguishing him from the ground he walked on and the chair behind him and what was in the background seemed to blend together suddenly, in a whirl. And he seemed to slide magnetically over to Valrae, as the bottles crash through the part of the blur where he used to be. “Break it. Cut it. Whatever you have to do.” Then he glares at Kasyr from the blur, his eyes seeming to magnify ten times their normal size as he thrusts a hand out toward him. The mild curse temporarily forces his voice to come out like a duck’s quack. “You can’t just do this,” he says to her.

Valrae thanks Kasyr softly as he passes her wine, surprised that he’d been thoughtful enough to make her a small plate. Beyond any sort of formalities now, the witch kicks off her heels and pulls her knees to her chest, balancing the plate on them as she sips her wine and picks at the food. And she nods, her mouth too full to speak, as Kas mentions Lan’s death being the reason he’d been called to them. “Mhmm,” She murmurs. She was still processing the hurt that Lan had inflicted upon her, saturated in grief that her hopes were now dashed so thoroughly, in ways she’d never even considered. She had been fitting the better part of a blueberry muffin in her mouth when the revenant asked her his question. She blinks at him, her cheeks full. It takes several long moments for her to finish and speak next. “I…” She stalls by drinking more of her wine. She could feel her head spinning with it, making the tension in her body melt and her usually iron grip on herself weaken. “I wanted us to try to become something closer to friends.” She says honestly. “In a world filled with danger and hungry Perdere bent gods, pardon the-” The glass shatters and drowns out whatever word the witch turns the air blue with here, “Out of me for thinking that we could be better to each other so that the time spent between trying not to die, or let the world end, might be filled with something other than this.” She takes a short breath, her cheeks red now from both wine and anger. “What is the point in saving the world, after all, if it’s only misery? But I may well be the weak ingenue you two take me for.” She rolls her eyes, happy with the amount of sarcasm and bitterness she’d put into those words. But Lanlan is sitting next to her now. She stands as he accuses her of revealing the cord only to save her own life. The food Kasyr had gathered for her falls, the plate shattering around her bare feet. “No.” She says the word firmly. “You will not assign me this self serving position because it is familiar to you,” She emphasizes that word, letting it roll off of her tongue like a poison. “And I will do no such thing.” She asserts, crossing her arms around herself. She doesn’t reveal that she’d tried, that she had no idea how. “The bond isn’t leaving until I know, beyond a single doubt, that you two will stop trying to kill each other at every perceived opportunity. Despite the myriad of unfortunate things you seem to take me for, or how expendable I am to you, I’ve come to care a great deal for the both of you and if this is what it takes to make sure you both remain living when this is all done... So be it.” In her anger, she missed the curse Lanlan had thrown Kasyr’s way.

Kasyr doesn't even bother to avoid the illusionists outstretched hand- morbidly curious to see what might come from his actions, and if it would finally serve as a reason to provide the man a more lasting reason to place their hostilities on the backburner. And yet, what moves to take hold of him feels- minute. In the face of things like an anti-magic curse, it feels like something he could overwhelm, "Quack?" He asks, his expression shifting from inquisitive, to befuddled, to an odd sort of realization. "Quack." And yet, if Lanlan's hoping for some effulgent rage, it's not what he gets. At the end of the day, while this was inconvenient, in the face of being cursed with your tongue melting out, and ensuing muteness for a year? This was water off a duck's back. And so the Kensai simply sits down, his cheek propped up on one hand- and one leg folding over the other as he enjoys the show. Really, the only thing that detracts from the vampires morbid enjoyment of the situation is the grief that ripples through Valrae. That's the only element in all this that's uncomfortable to behold- though he has no words to offer her. There's something of a sad, but resigned shake of his head, and a simple heft of shoulders in a helpless gesture, before he inclines his head over towards the drow. ...Pantomimes being what they are, it's enough to stir the Kensai into check his pockets for something to use as a writing implement, his intended canvas being the 'seemingly-blank' journal that he'd acquired from their expedition.

Lanlan :: “So he came to the tree only because I died?” He smiles, sadistically once again. “Then I guess I did save you, didn’t I?” It was only twisted logic and reaching that got him there, but it got him there. This anger at being so thoroughly betrayed (in his own mind) was causing him to examine every vulnerability he had. And removing them all at once. He felt numb to his former earthly tethers if they could be used to harm him like this. Or maybe it was something else within him. “Friends don’t do this Valrae! You can’t use my life how you want to without permission!” Why was he the only one mad about this? He looks at Kasyr expectantly. ‘Quack…’ Then he just waves him off. He was surprisingly calm about this curse. Maybe it reminded him of something much worse. “Haladavar thought he could use people’s lives too. Their souls. How is this different? Because you’re good and he’s bad?” He stomps away from her. She was breaking things now and he is unable or unwilling to force her into anything. Also it would make him a hypocrite if he tried. “We were friends! I thought.” Kasyr’s quacks couldn’t even get through to him, persuasive though they were. “You know, he’d be trying to murder me right now if he could.” Possibly true, but he clearly wasn’t thanking her. “Is that you think you’re doing? You think you’re saving me by making us all connected like this? Wait.” Did this have to do with what he found in the library. Did she think she was going to stop him by throwing hers and Kasyr’s body down with his? “If you think that will stop me from following him,” he says as he points to the heavens, “then…you really are naive.” Somehow, he believed that this wouldn’t sway her either. That she would call his bluff. If he is bluffing. He had to make the bond painful. “I’ve seen what-” He stops himself at the line. And then silently curses himself for his weakness. “I’ve seen what happens to your friends. It’s not good.”

Valrae || The heat of her anger nearly evaporates in the wake of befuddlement as Kasyr… Quacks. She turns to look at him, her face painted in lines of confusion, but he only quacks again. “What?” Was all that would cross her lips. It takes too long, something she might later credit to the wine, for her to realize that Lanlan was the cause of Kasyr’s sudden ability to speak only as a duck. She laughed then, thinking of the time he’d played a similar trick on her, but it was void of any true humor. “Great,” She throws the word toward Lan, clearly thinking this was exactly the opposite of the word. But Lanlan’s anger hasn't subsided either. She flinches as he compares her to Haladavar. “I didn’t mean too!” She protests, her voice raising again. But he continues, pointing to the sky and accusing her of even more. Things she hadn’t even begun to consider yet because she’d convinced herself she might persuade him onto a different path. Things that she thought he might have known better than to mention in front of Kasyr. It was his final words that managed to cut the deepest. The witch deflates for a moment, her shoulders dropping as real, physical pain blooms between her ribs. He’d aimed for her heart and struck true. The room falls silent, a complete stillness that comes after a storm. Or perhaps before it. The look that she gives Lan now is unguarded and vulnerable, one filled with pain. She makes no attempt to argue with him, believing that this at least was true. Perhaps that’s why it had hurt her so much. Instead, she crosses the room, pretending for her ego that the glass she passed over did not cut into her bare feet, and in her anger she slaps down the fluorite pillar. It shatters on the marble floor, the magic dying in the wake of its destruction. She spins quickly, a blur of gold and white, and curtseys so deeply it becomes mocking. “Thank you both for the wonderful company. You know the way out.” Her voice was sweet, honey soaked poison. With her chin high, the witch sails from the room and leaves them both to their own misery. It wasn’t until she crossed the threshold and into the hall that she allowed the first of her tears to slip silently down her cheeks.

Kasyr’s corrective quack on the matter of their friendship doesn't mean much, but he's hoping the hastily scribbled, 'Really, since when?' might do a better job of getting through to the drow. Or rather, to clarify the matter. Just like the additional note that's scribbled in regards to his sulking about murder, which reads, 'I had years. Get over yourself.' So much for the sanctity of priceless artifacts. Really, it's enough that the tome finally does manifest some new words. Namely, beneath the part that typically reads 'This book is not meant for here' is a new line which simply reads, 'Stop that.' Kasyr notices -this- at least, and even deigns to acknowledge it. By scribbling the words 'no' beneath the books response. That said, whatever small notes he has to make about the situation- they're cut short by the curiously grandiose statement and motions that Lanlan makes- pompous gestures accompanied by the sort of self-indulgence he'd seen on a number of would be tyrants seeking apotheosis. It had taken how long as archmage for this to happen? "Quack." Is offered to noone in particular, before his line of sight drifts after Valrae, offering an uncertain wave in the wake of her decidedly dismal exeunt. Which leaves him to begin collecting himself with a sigh, though he does take the time to casually scribble out 'You done?' in the book, and direct it to Lanlan.

Lanlan wants to follow her out of the room, she can’t quit just because he hurt her feelings. He wasn’t done. His feelings were hurt too. “What so it’s fine to watch someone else do it to me but if it happens to you it’s too much? What happened to teamwork and friendship?” He starts to give chase, but his foot slides on something wet. A small bloody footprint. “Valrae…! I didn’t…” He may have made a mistake. He sees Kasyr over there. Taunting him with his book. “Nearly. I want to thank you for helping me make the decision I’ve made today. I’m sure you’ll come to find it…how to equate the emotion to an unfeeling monster like yourself.” He pretends to think for a moment. “Frustrating? Annoying?” He offers Kasyr a manic smile. “Bye!” Then he disappears in a cloud of lavender smoke and floats away back to Xalious.

Kasyr isn't quite sure -what- he'd seen in Lanlan prior. What had infuriated him so much- because the sheer -haste- in which he'd immolated the good will that Val had lent him so often was a bit difficult to follow. And even when the little bastard redirected his attention fully onto the Kensai, there wasn't much of anything for his jibes to latch on. The expression that Lanlan earns is blank, an almost disappointed, or perhaps exasperated roll of his eyes, before he casually scribbles , 'Bye' right back- out of some partial expectation that the drow had simply scampered off invisibly. Even if he -was- lurking, somehow masked from empathy and other senses, he simply wasn't a concern for the moment. Instead, the swordsman carries on in the wake of their host- favoring his feet rather than any semblance of elemental shortcut. No, there's no disappearing act from him, as he crosses over the threshold to leave. Only, he doesn't- not immediately. Whether by dint of genuine empathy, or the bond which saw fit to connect their fates- his departure is paused, the swordsman pausing to scribble out 'You did your best', in the book, and flick it open near her. There's actually a moment where he pauses to scrutinize his own words, before he underlines the 'You', and jots beneath it, 'didn't deserve what happened tonight.' That said, or scribbled, the Kensai awkwardly offers a pat to the witches shoulder, and then moves to provide her the space she'd sought out in the first place.