RP:Quiet Dreams of Crowns and Metamorphosis

Part of the Welcome To The End Of Eras Arc

Part of the Once Upon a Midnight Dreary Arc

Summary: Quintessa invites Kasyr to a meeting on neutral ground where she attempts to address and set aside the bitter resentment she feels for him. The discussion goes far better than anyone could have expected.

The Sage Forest Bell

The dense canopy of the forest cover parts here, allowing the sunlight to stream down and bring a subtle warmth to your face. Rising up from amidst the spinney of thistle ahead, a tower of whitened Sagewood ash catches your attention. Intricate notches are cut into the once living pillars that form the base, creating rungs to reach the platform high atop. Hanging mystically just beyond reach is a bell of gleaming silver, long dormant as its purpose has become shrouded in time.

Quintessa arrives at the selected location alone, dressed in simple black and red silk robes, a long trail dragging through the leaves and dirt behind her as she walks, the black fabric hiding how utterly filthy it had gotten. This was not the outfit for such travel but she wore it anyway. As always, her inactivated invisibility cloak hangs around her shoulders, hiding whatever other equipment she might have brought- through the unnaturally potent aura of the Jubaku no Kijo and its hateful influence is notably missing. Quintessa pulls the cloak around her against the slight chill of the night air, her mismatched eyes scanning the area as she approaches the Sage Forest Bell, her gaze appreciating its luster in the light of the twin moons above. Her emotions, for the time being, are placid and calm. In truth she’s rather looking forward to this secret meeting on neutral ground though a part of her fears Kasyr will stand her up. To combat this idle nervousness Quintessa occupies her time with a cigarette, the scent of clove and lavender intermingling with the Sage’s night air as she waits.

Kasyr s' surprisingly punctual- a fact that comes at the expense of another meeting in Vailkrin being momentarily postponed, a member of the as-of-yet-to-be-disbanded House Nasar left to spin their wheels. This is no doubt intentional, given Kasyr's first stop hadn't even been the meeting point, but a sidequest a late night cafe, to collect some sanguine soaked biscotti, and candied eyeballs. It's thusly armed that he flickers into existence, a small circle of scorched earth forming around his briefly sparking form. And, surprisingly enough, he's actually dressed in something other than his trenchcoat- with his chosen armour for the evening being a fine spidersilk suit, a navy blue vest, and a silver tie- neatly pinned with a signet matching that of house Azakhaers heraldry. There's a moment where he looks for some piece of furniture or the ilk, but failing that- he'll simply offer forward the plate of snacks, "I felt it might be prudent to break bread first."

Quintessa might actually break a smile when she turns to see Kasyr and his gifts, a familiar gleam in her eyes- the look of a cat that has cornered a sparrow, though while mischievousness radiates from her core no ill emotions were present. Quintessa seems to be in a very good mood tonight, though her forced emotionless expression wouldn’t betray it. “Oh my,” Her tone is teasing but pleasant, “And you told me you didn’t care about the pomp and ceremony.” She moves forward, bold and unhindered by fear or hesitation, her eyes inspecting his garb- the House Azakhaers heraldry more specifically. Before she gets too distracted with it, however, she pulls her gaze up to meet the Kensai’s eyes. “Yes, let us break bread. Our formal promise of peace here.” Quintessa rolls up her right sleeve to reveal the Bloodstone Bracer of Thorns, a pulse of druidic magic borrowed from Kanna emanating as she clenches her fist, the roots of the nearby trees shifting and morphing to her will, forming a simple, uncomfortable table with two stools to sit upon as they spoke. She gestures to one of the makeshift stools before plucking a candied eyeball from the plate he held. “Join me.” She says, only taking a seat once Kasyr has.

Kasyr couldn't tell if it was discomfort or amusement he felt at the changelings scrutiny- though the lack of curtly applied titles, or bitter formalities already helped to make this feel somewhat less stilted then he'd been expected. Enough so that she earns a brief half-smile, before his attention flickers towards the seating she provides. There truly were worse venues they could have gone to, which makes getting comfortable easy. And true enough, his hands would soon scoop up a bit of biscotti to snack on. "I can -dislike- plenty of elements, and still make use of them when it's practical. Such as intimidating Nasarites." There's a pause, and a brief roll of his eyes, "It does help to have a fledgling who found my minimalistic wardrobe utterly abhorrent." Still, as fond as he might have sounded for a moment, the reality of the situation is never far from his mind, "That said- I can't imagine we're here to talk about my forcible acclimatization to better fashion."

Quintessa plants herself on the knotted and gnarled root stool she had made for herself, constantly shifting to find a comfortable position that isn’t quite possible with how rudimentary she’s made it for herself. Still, Quintessa manages to ignore her discomfort as she pops the eyeball into her mouth, smirking at the mention of ‘Nasarites’ whenever Kasyr brings them up. News of their potential demise brought her much happiness. “Oh yes, Inky sure has impeccable tastes. I remember not too long ago she was making outfits for the Queen of Larket. Fashioning a proper regalia for you will be a simple task for her- but no, that’s not why I asked you here.” Quintessa winces a bit internally. This was turning out to be a pleasant meeting, she didn’t want to soil it with business. “This is regarding the Warrior’s Guild,” She lets that hang there for a moment as she flicks her burnt-out cigarette away from her. “Mathollak and I have decided to make my Trial by Combat a public event. We feel it’s best if my show of contrition is made as widely available to as many people as possible. I trust the judgment of my squad leader but this may take some time…” She winces again, this time externally in reaction to what she’s about to say. “In the meantime can I still engage in the duties assigned to my squad? It pains me to think they would be neglected- The Froad, it’s still out there, we need to stop it. Now, I fully understand your need to appear… I don’t know, firm in your ruling of the guild, but perhaps some leniency in this specific regard would be appropriate? Just so I’m not holding my team back. I would hate to be a burden.”

Kasyr supposes he ought to feel grateful that there hasn't been any accusations levied as of yet, or a rehash of bad blood. Frankly, so long as he wasn't being reminded by Lefty, the term out of sight, out of mind tended to ring true- especially when there weren't fresh indignities to navigate. Which is perhaps why his initial reaction to both the news and her request is less anger and more, "-ing Mathollak. Of course he'd turn it into the biggest party he could." It wouldn't even surprise the Kensai if this was some scheme to accrue even more groupies. "Still, I don't disagree with you. So, let me pose you this- Khitti, as a chaperone. I don't think allowing you to run strictly under Mathollak's jurisdiction would be right, until this is resolved- but, her presence- especially given her involvement in returning piece to the land, should function well enough to allay everyones concerns." And his own, as passing as they may be.

Quintessa sighs as Kasyr mentions Mathollak turning it into a party. She seems somewhat disappointed it’s being dragged out this way but she wasn’t the one who gave the order to Mathollak either. When Khitti is mentioned, however, the levity returns. “Of course Mother can chaperone me, I don’t mind. I’d like to spend more time with her anyway. Perhaps we’ll rip some hearts out together- her technique is something special, I’ve seen it.” Quintessa lets the awkward joke linger as she reaches for another eyeball, knowing in her heart somehow that the next thing she was going to bring up would surely sour the mood. “Thank you,” she decides to start with, her tone indicating she had more to say. “There was also another matter I wanted to speak to you about though…” Quintessa frowns, doubt creeping up her stomach and turning it as cold as ice. “Something a bit more personal.” She pops the eyeball into her mouth, giving herself time to think as she chews it slowly, letting her revelation that she had some personal issue to voice build unnecessary suspense.

Kasyr had, by this point, finished one piece of biscotti, and was now working on his second. And asofar- things seemed to be functional enough, with the changeling even seeming grateful at the outcome. And yet, there's an undercurrent of anxiety there. A cautiousness that creeps up and overtakes the mood, and leaves the Kensai picking at a fleck of sugar clinging to the stiffed bread. Here it was, then. A fresh insistence on his betrayal, and what was owed. "There's no orchestra here to provide you a drum roll, cherie. You may as well get into it."

Quintessa thinks about tapping her fingers on the makeshift table like drumsticks, but she refrains, swallowing her food instead before she speaks. “So the person I suspect is the leader of the undead rebellion reached out to me recently. My words might have stoked the flames of mutiny… though that wasn’t my intention.” Quintessa seems legitimately repentant, guilt that her harsh words meant to stand up to a bully were now being used to threaten a civil war. She wanted her name to have no part in something like that. “Quite honestly I’m left somewhat confused by what he said… Haven’t you always had the best in mind for the non-vampiric undead of Vailkrin? They- the rebels- they seem to think that the interests of the undead aren’t going to be met, that throwing their lot in with me and my fire and blood will give them a stronger position in the future.” She shrugs, “Either that or they are just hedging their bets. Regardless, I don’t have a traitor’s heart; I want no part of their rebellion and I’m denouncing them to you right now so we are perfectly clear on that matter.”

Kasyr pinched the bridge of his nose as the words 'Might have stoked the flames of mutiny', accompanied by a sigh when it is followed by 'wasn't my intention. "Two for two, then." On the bright side, he seems more exhausted then angry at this juncture- though, that might just be reflective of the job as a whole. "...Well, there's apparently rumours I'd been keeping secret concentration camps meant to hold the entire undead populace. Somehow. And there was a whole thing where an aspiring politician somehow failed to do their research, and didn't realize that I had a historical precedent for enacting policies to ensure the independence and fair representation of the necropolis, to elevate them from second class citize-" He stops, in part because he realizes he's smiling between gritted teeth, much like he would when addressing an idiot- and largely because he was talking to Quintessa. As much as they had their disagreements, she knew the score. "In any case, we're clear on that. Just let moi know if they specifically set into motion a plan- because I'd rather deal with it when it occurs, then see some upstart drag the ambitous, or the easily roused, into a civil war that would amount to a -lot- of unnecessary fatalities." But that wasn't the whole of things, was it? He can feel his jaw clenching, and he forces it to relax, instead shifting back in the makeshift seat- and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Quintessa lets her practiced composure break when she hears the mention of concentration camps, a hand moving up to her mouth as she laughs at the absurdity of such a thing. “Gods be good. Who are you, King Macon? Let me be frank- I’ve devised a dozen different stories I could use to defame you but none of them are as categorically false as that claim.” She shakes her head, lowering her hand down to her robes to fish out a new cigarette. “So, shall I spy on them for you? I’ll keep up regular contact with him, make vague promises of support without ever doing anything. I can do this for you…” There is that pang of guilt again, feeling somewhat responsible for what is happening currently. “I…” She pauses, anxiety building up, pushing back at the admission she was about to make. “I would have vouched my support for you, y’know…” There is a deep pain in her heart now, a pain she rarely allowed herself to feel. “How did we become so estranged? It’s uncomfortable. My place isn’t here, it’s at your side. That’s where I belong.”

Kasyr may have smirked at the changelings frankness insofar at what her idle mind had considered, though, it ebbs slightly in the pause afterwards, flattening at the offer of spycraft. And yet, what's being said, and more what accompanies the words- something made all the more uncomfortable at their exchange. The question is a simple one, but one that had lingered at the back of his mind countless times. "If I had to guess, it was because we stopped talking, and then we both went our own paths. Your course was altered, as you found yourself ensnared, et trying to survive. And mine trudged biterly forward. And neither of us had the full story." There's a slightly caustic edge to that final sentence, which lingers as he resumes, "A comedy of errors. One incident compounding into the next." From an inner jacket pocket, he produces a smoke- a quick snap of fingers and inhale setting it properly alight, before he extends it over to her, "Asking you to spy for me, after all this feels- utilitarian. Et might, knowing our luck, embolden them into thinking they should act, under the pretense that they'd have support." But what then, "Would have vouched?”

Quintessa allows some of the pain to dissolve away, naturally, organically. Her clove and lavender cigarette finds her lips and she leans forward to light it off of his own. “You’re right,” Kasyr’s words resonate with her as a dark thought crosses her mind. “Perhaps this wedge was… orchestrated.” She was still very unhappy that Kasyr was kept in the dark about her and Caluss and though she did not yet think it was intentional, if she found out that was the case she would not be as civil with Lanlan regarding her reaction. “I don’t want the rebels thinking they have a foot to negotiate on, personally. Perhaps I can offer different support, a whispered suggestion that they should trust your past actions.” She pauses to take a drag from her cigarette, savoring the flavor a moment. “Yes, I would have vouched for you and supported your claim. I always wanted you to be my king, Kasyr, I was just offended I had to find out from some scum-sucking paparazzi journalist instead of you telling me personally. I shouldn’t have said what I did… and it’s not too late for me to resend those words. Admit my mistake. I see now, without the haze of everything going on at once- my home crumbling and my power waning, I see now that I was wrong to say what I did so publicly and defiantly.”

Kasyr allows his cigarette to linger between them for a few more moments, thin trails of smoke weaving between them like a veil. "If not orchestrated, then inflamed through repeated negligence." Carelessness seemed more Lanlan's methodology. A lack of foresight, and an inability to trust the Kensa- combining together in a near fatal combination. He draws on the smoke at that thought, hoping to will away the grimace, "I agree, a more diplomatic outcome es optimal. And will help the city continue to settle. I can't see a stable future if every problem has to be solved with violence, or the looming threat of it." And doesn't her promises of rescinding her statement ring sweetly? And yet, how would it look if he waffled on the decision. "I can't imagine it would look good were I to vacillate so quickly. People might come to the conclusion the government is fickle, mercurial. That said-" One hand raised up, to still any pre-emptive arguments, "were you to do the city a service, J'imagine that it would lend far more credence to your words. Now, while Shishi's task was to resolve the situation in the city of snakes, given they are, effectively, one of our neighbours- there's still much to do in Trist'oth. I want you to co-ordinate with them in reclaiming that space. I believe Lanlan and others from the mages guild are doing so, et I intended on having your mother do so- so it es not like you won't have support in the task. Because at the end of the day, it es paramount to vacate the refugees from the forest, et to ensure that the remaining feral undead is contended with, both locally -et- abroad." Having said this, he waits- gauging her expression, looking for some sign of animosity.

Quintessa || There is no sign of animosity in Quintessa’s expression, only careful thoughtfulness as she weighs his words, her cigarette idly rolled back and forth between her fingers as she thinks, nodding her head slowly. It seems like she agrees with the assessment- or at least doesn’t have a reason to argue against it even though her brow furrows a bit when he mentions Trist’oth. “Well,” there is hesitation in her voice as she speaks, still considering her words. “It *is* important to restore the social order of things, and the sooner we can put the dark elves back in the underdark the better… I will obviously help in this endeavor regardless of your intentions with me, but I do not roll over like a hound, Kasyr. When I return to Vailkrin it will be to reclaim what is rightfully mine- through violence or otherwise.” Her tone is unsure, maybe indicating that she wasn’t as committed to her plans of ‘fire and blood’ as her people or even Karasu was, but Quintessa knows deep down that fire and blood are poor materials for building- how was she supposed to rebuild with those tools alone? “But the wedge. It’s uncomfortable. I’d much prefer it if you invited me back after you’ve deemed my punishment sufficient. I see no reason I should be compelled to make a show of force to you, you are already intimately aware of how formidable of an enemy I can be. We can negotiate without it coming to that.” Quintessa flicks her ashes before taking another drag of her cigarette. “But I will not return with a diminished title or less political anatomy. Say what you will about me, but the truth is clear: I kept the peace in Vailkrin for the last three years while you did nothing to help me. Me. Quintessa Blackwell, the true protector of Vailkrin, and the people still remember this, that is why those discontent with your sudden takeover are coming to me for support. Your rule already seems ill-made and fragile, done in the shadows without the consent of the small folk or the high lords, but imagine if your biggest opponent, I, were to flip and declare support for you publicly. Those still discontent with your rule, notably the non-vampire population, would be forced to reconsider this position. I do not mind seeming fickle, after all, knowing to change your mind is a virtue.” Clove and lavender smoke hovers around Quintessa like a haze, her shrewd, mismatched eyes piercing through it. “Other Kingdoms are already courting me for positions in their realms. Larket has even offered me land and dominion over the Eternal Forest. Other realms see the value I can bring… Will this task, fixing Trist’oth, help you see my value as well? Is that what it will take?”

Kasyr had, at some point, resumed eating- a thoughtful expression on his face. While the desire to correct her on certain points loomed- a part of him wondered if it was intentional, meant to bait out certain tidbits, or to see how readily she could rouse him. Perhaps it was a genuine misinterpretation. Whatever the case, it was certainly a lot more palatable compared to other misunderstandings. "Again. Let's skip the threats. The last thing either of us need, is those truly loyal to us getting themselves killed on our behalf." And what would restrain either of them, then? "I'm not asking you to play the role of a hound. Simply to make things right, and this course of action does neatly contradict your public statement to the paper as well- which would help to underline it's...incendiary content. I imagine the editors would have had a field day backpedaling on that one." Would have might be slightly emphasized, if only because someone had firebombed their office. Officially, the Vailkrin government knew nothing about it- but, it was a bit funny that the delivery had come from out of the city. "In any case, I am aware of Larkets courtship of you. That said, despite that opportunity- despite everything, we're here." Because Vailkrin was her home. And perhaps, somewhere beneath the resentment of old indignities, she believed in what it could be. Though, he'd be fooling himself if he pretended there wasn't some form of ambition at play. "As for your concerns- My offer as representative for Fae concerns in Vailkrin was not lip service. Their courts, et those outsiders which fall beyond the range of vampire, human, ou undead- need someone to speak for them, and the fact that you have historically been willing to hold a dissenting opinion es useful. I could count on you to properly lobby for what benefited them, and to find details I might otherwise miss." That -hadn't- been her sole concern, though, had it? "If it's a matter of your rank, You never -were- granted a proper title. That said, if you're able to resolve things in Trist'oth in a timely manner- I don't see why you couldn't be re-instated to the peerage as a recognized Viscountess- with Karasu likewise being recognized by the crown."

Quintessa finds herself relaxing somewhat, not noticing her posture had tensed until Kasyr points out that they should skip the threats. “Forgive me, it was not meant as a threat. I have seen visions of the future, of many potential futures, each existing on an infinitely growing fabric of infinity expanding possibilities and I keep seeing it, a grand conflict with much death and sorrow. It’s unclear, only fragments, but I know you and I will be entangled in it. I can only assume I am seeing the day when Karasu and I return with the support of allies powerful enough to stand against you and the crown.” Her tone is cautious and doubtful, her heart not really in the conflict she has been preparing for. All the same, she ignores the comments about firebombs, putting a note in her mind to question Karasu for details later. “I want to avoid this conflict,” she admits, “But Karasu…” There is a feeling of dread that overcomes Quintessa, her eyes drifting away as if her partner would discover her here with Kasyr and explode on them both. “I think she lives for it. The D’chath ritual performed on her has awoken something- a fire that I cannot even begin to understand or control. Even if I was able to solve the issues in Trist’oth overnight I wouldn’t be able to accept the terms of your feudal contract. Karasu remains an obstacle.” Quintessa sighs. Though she might try to hide it, the truth was clear; Quintessa was a little bit terrified of Karasu. “She wants to skin you alive and present your hide to me as a gift on our wedding night.”

Kasyr may have smirked slightly at her mention of prognostications, "It's not like it would be the first time I've defied a would-be future, given my past with Lithrydel's once-parasite. Nor you, en fait- given the shrubbery had been 'fated' to wipe us out." The swordsman pauses, all the same. If it was a reoccurring vision with numerous permutations- the idea of a conflict wasn't beyond the pale. "Et it's not like a great conflict, involving death et tragedy, needs us to catalyze it. I could count off a few pending disasters." That- might not have been the best admission, really- but at the same time, part of their myriad problems had been his general reticence to share the burden of responsibility. "Still, I see the problem. Regardless of what you want, the odds are that Karasu will connive et sabotage the whole process in a desire to get even on your behalf, even if it might get you hurt or killed- because, it's what she feels you're owed. Which complicates things considerable, since -excluding- her from any arrangement will likely set her off . . .?" He has to refrain from keeping the humour out of his voice, at the grim irony insofar as the pairs swapped roles, "Et, I suppose, the worry that if she goes too far et escalates- it will result in one of us going off the deep end. Quelque chose comme ca? Rather, does that sound close to correct?" Considering what's been said, he seems to be in fairly high spirits, "That -does- make teaching her how to refine that shift in her nature trickier. ..It's not like I failed to notice it." It had, after all, led to him endeavouring to expand her connection to it, when he'd hucked her at Xicotl. "Still, Not to cast aspersions on your partner. But. She'd neither be the first, nor will she be the last to make threats like that."

Quintessa raises her gaze to meet him when he mentions the once-parasite and then there is a tug at her lips to smirk at the claims that the shrubbery had been fated to destroy them. “This is true, that’s why I’m careful to present these as possible futures- Even the most skilled Chronomancers know that the future is impossible to perceive or grasp, much less perfectly predict. I can only interpret my visions and warn you about them, nothing more.” She pauses to take a drag from her cigarette before continuing, exhaling the smoke in a cloud over her head. “If there *is* to be a conflict, however, I want to be on your side of it, but as you already pointed out that might prove difficult. Karasu is my fiancée, I must support her endeavors the best I can and yet…” Quintessa shakes her head, a bittersweet pain stabbing her in the chest. “It's not time for you to die yet, I still have much to learn from you. I have much to teach you too. Our relationship had always been mutually beneficial until the God That Never Was got involved and used my loyalty for you against us. It will take time, but I think it might be possible to convince Karasu to listen to reason. She and I already had a conversation about how I could not trust her with the truth because she might act out on it, this will be a similar conversation. Even if I can get her to lie and pretend to put her aspirations to permanently destroy you aside, at least that’s progress. Until I figure out a solution, however, it's not safe for me to bring her back into Vailkrin. I must endure this exile for however long it takes and find a new home. I can’t stay camped in the Sage Forest forever.”

Kasyr considers what Quintessa is saying. In a sense, it was similar to their approach with the undead. Avoid an imminent confrontation. Delay their potential plans- and adapt from there. "You're hoping to convince her to lie, long enough that she either has time to see reason, or things become muddled, et she becomes the mask." That -would- seem like something the changeling was familiar with. "Convincing her to bide her time and re-establish yourselves as students, so she could enjoy the 'irony' of killing me with my own lessons would probably serve as a nice little incentive as well- though if she's set a timeline for her 'victory'." How -would- she go about it, were she intending on achieving those ends as a wedding gift. Plausibly as murderous anniversary event? Probably prudent to mark the calander whenever that gets confirmed- in order to prepare for yearly assassination attempts, or something of the sort. "...Mm. But." But, if she'd already come to that conclusion, then, "..So, your earlier questions were your attempts at feeling out if there was any hope of reconcilement et working together, et whether you actually intended on bending the knee?" Given she already seemed to know the answers.

Quintessa nods her head, smoke drifting from her nose. “Yes, something like that. I don’t have a solid plan because those don’t work on her. She’s too unpredictable- like a wildfire, but yes, I think the sense of irony will appeal to her. We might even find that giving her an outlet to actually try and kill you with all her might is cathartic for her, I don’t know…” She pauses for a moment, imagining what kinds of plans Karasu might have put forth to achieve her revenge on Kasyr. “In truth, I don’t know what she’ll do. I counseled her about becoming more powerful, what that path would look like, and I told her she needs to learn the basics of necromancy first, to study and master the theories just how she did at the Mage’s Tower in Xalious. Only then will I be able to transform her into a proper Reaper of Vengeance. She will not get a chance to try to kill you before we are married, not before her metamorphosis has begun. She knows she is not yet powerful enough to destroy you so I doubt she will seriously try it before then.” When Kasyr confronts Quintessa about feeling him out for reconciliation completely outside of the scope of Vailkrin politics, she becomes sheepish, her face turning away as a light blush burns her cheeks. “I-… Perhaps I was feeling you out- It isn’t though I had a plan for this meeting, I just wanted to talk to you again and be honest about my feelings for once.” She turns to look at him again, the last of her cigarette beginning to burn out from neglect between her fingers. “...Under the pretense that this was Warrior’s Guild business. Okay, so maybe I did have an agenda for tonight but… It was for a good reason. Maybe I will swear fealty to you one day, but I know in my heart I never will do it unless this resentment I feel for you is addressed. I’m a professional, Kasyr, I cannot allow these petty emotions to keep me from doing what I know is most productive for me and my people, even if they refuse to see it themselves.

Kasyr has run out of biscotti. Alas. Still, the fact that Quintessa confirms much of what he said means there isn't too much to go over at this juncture. Comments on Karasu get more of an affirming 'hmm'- but he doesn't actually pry as to the avenues. A future practical study would be more enlightening, then simple theory. In any case, Quintessa's admittance does at least earn a smirk, "One day at a time, peut-etre. At the very least, I think this likely served well enough to sate your curiosity. As for whatever resentiment you feel- do you have anything else you wish to address, or do you feel satisfied for the evening?" The Kensai can't help but add, "It -would- be nice to co-ordinate better in future, if we can stay the course. We do historically work well together."

“Yes, we do historically work well together,” Quintessa begins, the tone in her voice indicating she was about to bring up the first grievance that had been weighing on her mind. “But you-” Her composure breaks and for a moment her voice is shrill and bird-like, like when she was an angry teenager. “You were gonna frakking kill me! Come on, Kasyr, did you really think I was willingly working for that bug? Did nobody convince you otherwise? Khitti? Valrea? I already know Lanlan is a lost cause but somebody must have pointed out the bread crumbs I was leaving for you all. I even warned them about the attack on Cenril! Did you honestly think I was too far gone? Be honest with me, Kasyr, did you really not think there was something more going on?”

Kasyr supposes that he should have expected this. "The operative word being -was-." There's a pause for a moment, before he finally has to concede, "Non- I did not get any 'breadcrumbs' from Khitti or Valrae. All of our discussions came -after- I kidnapped you - and mostly took the role of admonishments for harming you, and -uncertainty- on their part, as to whether you were a lost cause. So, It wasn't -just- me that Lanlan kept in the dark." As for her hypothetical ambitions, "Considering you had made some sort of arrangement with Gospel and tapped into it during a tourney match, alongside the debacle with the trees? Non, I was not really eager to leave things to chance. The possibility -was- too strong." Again, the operative word 'was'. "That said, you -did- inspire doubt during our rencontre, which is why you were able to walk away from it. I did not -crush- your heart when my hand was in your chest, nor rip it out like your mother would. I did not finish the job/ And wasn't it -weird- that your bleeding was in part stymied, despite a gaping chest wound?" He'd mentioned these notes before, but, she seemed more level-headed in this meeting. Perhaps it would finally hit home. "It didn't help that you had to all but spell out you were under scrutiny, and were on the verge of looking like you were fraternising with the enemy. If you -were- under duress, that seems the sort of thing that would get you -smited-. Selling the deception at best, and limiting your ability to enact it's plans at worst seemed like the most logical outcome, Cherie." Was it a brutal arithmetic? Yes. However, "I told you, long ago, when we both lounged in the former Dragana abode- that I would do -anything- to protect this city, regardless of how much it pained me. Regardless of who might threaten the city."

Quintessa does calm a bit having gotten that off her chest, a timid nod of her head in reluctant agreement. “Yes, I know you spared me… That’s why we are having this conversation. You left me hanging just on the edge, hoping my injuries would slow me down- and they did for a couple of days, and then Caluss demanded I strike back or it would… I shall not repeat what it threatened to do to me but Kanna knows all too well. Did she not speak to you either? No matter. You spared me, I acknowledge it, Caluss just would not allow the tactical advantage of taking me out of play to last very long before I had to cripple one of you just as badly. Luckily Valrae is a secret genius, able to curse me with my own magic and leave us both bound by the threads of fate. While Valrae remained cursed and injured, so did I, completing your intended plan.” Quintessa gives him a cheeky grin, “So, you’re welcome.” She tries to lean back in her chair but this wasn’t a chair she was sat upon, it was a twisted root that she was too stubborn to take the time to shift into something comfortable. Unable to get comfortable she frowns and sighs before continuing. “One thing you got wrong though is that I was protecting the city from Caluss and was never a threat. Didn’t you think it was odd I was distracting it? Sending it to Cenril, to Alithrya, to anywhere else but Vailkrin? It wanted to nest there, to make it its home and I refused to allow it. I convinced it otherwise. It preferred to use it as a threat against me to keep me loyal. I saved Vailkrin, Kasyr, I was always saving Vailkrin, even when I was secretly going behind its back and fixing the damage I did to the trees for it. I was always working against it from day one.”

Kasyr purses his lips. While some part of himself still doubted the absolutes to her altruism, if only because her servitude had allowed to pay back a number of grudges and grievances- the fact that it's influence was primarily aimed elsewere did lend credit to the story, though- the threat that her subtler actions provided had remained a quandry to solve. "Valrae -is- resilient, oui. And a special brand of reckless I find myself admiring." The kensai shakes his head, redirecting his focus to the topic at hand, "And non- again, most of my actions were independant of everyone else. For most of these past few years, I held my own council- with only Valrae et Khitti providing some occasional support. I believe the general brusqueness in which I resolve situations was offputting to the rest of the counter-caluss conspirators." He might have smirked at that turn of phrase. "We both were doing our best to mitigate the the godling, the only way we knew- with limited intel. Something I should hope you could sympathize with- given you've been acting in accordance to a long held suspicions I'd tried to kill you. And that had somehow gone uncorrected for quite some time, given that a number of the others knew, and even the extent I'd gone to ensure it."

Quintessa finds herself rubbing the bridge of her nose with her disabled hand, ignoring the discomfort it brought her. “Yes, of course you were acting independently- that’s actually another grievance I have. You and I have to communicate more, but we can address that another time.” She rests her hand back down on the table, flicking away the butt of her cigarette with the other. “Messy, messy, messy. The whole situation was messy but I too did my best to mitigate the godling… The stakes were just a little immediately higher for me… But I forgive you for hurting me. What I don’t yet forgive, however, is how you went after my personal endeavors- things that had nothing to do with Caluss. Things I had kept serialized from the conflict. You hurt me professionally, which is far more of a slight to me than any old injury you could give me.” Quintessa leans forward, the luster in her eyes growing almost feral. “Cut me down, rip open my chest, step on my neck- Do anything you want to me but do not f- with the things I have built- my endless web of connections and influence that weren’t even being used to aid it. You tried to starve my people- cut off trade from the outside. That was you, wasn’t it? Admit it. You harmed Vailkrin more than I did just by doing that alone. Larket had no reason to join Cenril in a trade embargo until you visited the King. He told me you were there himself.”

Kasyr doesn't really provide any sort of visual cue one way or the other when the accusation comes- though it's more due to a combination of practice, and the expectation that this day would come. Then again, there was a reason that Coreliant had once favored the Kensai, a reason that accompanies the rather curt explanation, "I -did- starve et interfere with your connections, that much I already admitted- when I mentioned Mahri et Lita's questionable loyalties, though I didn't wholly strangle your endeavours. Support coming into Vailkrin was important, even if you were the source." The kensai pauses there, "Which does beg the question- if I -knew- where you were going, why wouldn't I simply smother every shipment, or take them for myself? I've certainly proved myself resourceful enough that I -could- have." He doesn't allow that question to linger long, however, "As for my dealings with Macon- there was certainly some spite there, though, much of it was more directed at Lanlan after he endeavoured to steal my research. I had myself appointed as Larkets liason for the Mage's little soiree, just so I could circumvent the banishment he levied at me. That, et bought -time- for Valrae. If you must know, I gave him an oath. That myself et house Azakhaer would do both him et Larket no harm, provided he did not act to kill Valrae before Caluss was killed. Galling terms for him, but a benefit I imagine he could not deny." There may have been a rather specific emphasis on 'House Azakhaer' there. A faint pause, and again he resumes, "That all said, the embargo wasn't -just- an inconvenience for both of us. Your little act against the mayor caused a rather nasty sweeping ban in general. Et required me to enact my own bit of smuggling with the necromancer guilds help. If I -could- have organized an embargo, wouldn't I have simply established House Azakhaer as a unilateral trading hub, instead of bleeding out resources to fix the cities problems. Pushed both Nasar et the merchant houses to the wayside? It would certainly be less dreary than having to renegotiate the price of stone with Larket, as I had to recently- and by extension, figure out a functional working relationship with Trist'oth." Not a single lie there. Not technically.

Quintessa doesn’t lean back, she remains leaning forward, aggressively posed. “If you want the honest truth, I just assumed you were losing your touch. I assumed you went scorched earth on me after I attacked Valrae but you were just too weak to finish the job. That you regretted the mercy you had afforded me and then came after me full force, but I was just out-smarting you at every step. After all, I countered all those steps you took against me but I was no less offended they were taken. You mean to tell me you were playing it soft with me on purpose? I’m not sure I believe you but I’ll accept it… because of something you said about Larket.” Her shoulders lower as she relaxes her posture. “You did it for Valrae so you need not say another word in defense of it. So long as I owe her a life debt anything done to protect her is forgiven.” Quintessa pauses for a few seconds before finally she sighs, feeling the weight of that particular baggage slip away from her mind. “It certainly would have been smarter to establish yourself as a unilateral trading hub- That's what I tried to do.” Finally she smiles, flashing her shark-like teeth as she abandons her aggressive posture. “I think I disagree with some of your ideas about economics but I hope we can move beyond that and start working together again. I think I’ve at least proven myself capable in that regard, yes?”

Kasyr offered Quintessa something akin to a half-smile at the mention of scorched earth, "I think what I did to house Dragana comes closer to a decisive act of scorched earth. Though, that was it's own headache. Shishi still doesn't know it was your mother that could have come close to killing his children. Just that I wasn't the one to initiate things." A particular admission he's willing to offer only because of Quintessa's attachment to Khitt(i). As for Valrae, "Honestly, she was offended I did it, when she learned of it after the fact." Her comment on economics finishes the job her initial remark did, coaxing him to grin and roll his eyes, "I mean, in the short term- but that would -also- put the city a bit too close to a dictatorship, and the goal is to -avoid- fostering one, or building up undue resentment by exploiting it's people. I'll leave that to Larket ou Trist'oth." That she's willing to move on is at least promising enough, "I never doubted your competence insofar as cleverness, or getting things done when it was necessary. It's always been your ambition, impulsiveness, and a certain sadistic viciousness that were the worrying traits. Though, you seem somewhat- tempered by all your experiences."

Quintessa shrugs at the mention of House Dragana, “I will not weep for the destruction of a vacant mansion extracted of anything valuable. I’m sure Khitti knew it was empty before she set it ablaze- I must have informed her through the Necromancer’s Guild last time I did inventory…” Quintessa honestly can’t recall. “Well… I can’t say that my ambitions have tempered. I want to be your heir… Or Queen, if I can negotiate it one way or another. My impulsiveness? Well, I’m certainly more patient now. Inside of Caluss’ lair, time became a figment of my imagination. Eons passed like seconds. I witnessed the world decay and become reborn over and over as it tried to fragment my mind, searching for the secrets I would not reveal to it. I learned to bide my time there and hone my impulses. I might not always be able to deny them but at least now I can use them for something useful. As for my sadistic streak?” Quintessa can’t help but allow a cruel grin to spread her mouth wide. “Well, I have not harmed anyone innocent in a very long time. I can at least say that. Were there any other concerns you had about me?”

Kasyr allows himself a short chuckle when Quintessa mentions queendom, though it's less mocking, and more wry, "I'm sure that would go well with Karasu." Still, the rest of her statements provided him something to process, the comments filed away to the back of his mind, "None that can be answered promptly. In the same vein as our other business, waiting and seeing seems the best avenue. To discover if we can actually work together. At the very least, I'd say these talks have been fruitful. At the very least, I imagine it alleviates any concerns you may have had about any further hostilities on my part." Frankly, he was simply focused on the city, and his normal, paranoid preparations for terrible days to come, "Es there anything else on your end to address?"

Quintessa smirks as she slowly reaches forward to pluck the last candied eyeball from the plate. “I have two hands, I do not see why I can’t offer one to each of you.” She pops the eyeball into her mouth before slowly rising from her stool, rubbing the sore spots the knots were digging into. She shakes her head at his question, still chewing her food, indicating she had nothing else to discuss at the moment. “Oh, I’ll make sure to stop calling you ‘usurper’ to people too. It would be a bit rude to do after we had this conversation.” She raises her Bloodstone Bracer into the air, prepping it to put the tree roots back down where they were once Kasyr had taken his leave. “It was a very nice and productive talk indeed. Thank you for hearing me out.”

Kasyr actually laughs there, a brief sliver of unbridled humour, before he rises to his feet and affords the changeling a salute, "It's appreciated. I look forward to a hopefully stable future." Before the gesture's even done, a fresh web of sparks slithers over his form- the precursor to his abrupt dissapearance from their venue. The remnants of the candied eyeballs are the sole reminder that he was once there, alongside a few traces of scorched earth.