RP:The Glimmer Becomes A Glance

Part of the The Seven Sins of Sagittae Arc

Summary: Seteth begins to realize the full extent of his fears, even as Quintessa begins to realize the thief is more to her than a tool. With Lord Andor Sprague's ball postponed, and the bard Raphaline presently unaccounted for, Seteth of Sagittae's time is running out. A trip to Venturil to investigate a lead on a possible crystal sighting is proposed, and the changeling Lady of House Dragana transforms from valuable ally to invaluable lifeline.

House Dragana

Quintessa Dragana furiously flips through the pages of a thick tome in her laboratory, a few pieces of differently coloured chalk held tightly in her grip as the changeling's slender digits press alone the pages to translate the runes held within. The young spellcaster had been at it for days, rememorizing countless runes from a number of ancient cultures and races long forgotten by common folk. But Quintessa wasn't very common. Quintessa was a rising star in age of stagnation. A dark horse whom had come along to snag up baronies and ranks much more quickly than the average person. Quintessa of the Black Pond was an oddity in more ways than were blatantly apparent. "Aha!" declaims the changeling as she finds the last rune she was looking for and moved to the area of her experimentation. Swiftly, the hex blade copies the last two runes and adds them to a pair of previously collected circle of runes and she waves her hand over them to imbue her arcane energy to them. "Ysgogi." she says, the air in the room sucking in the direction of the circles as the fabric of the material plane neatly splits open to fill the circle of runes, creating a portal between the two points. "Excellent!" squeals Quintessa, her experiment having been a success. "This will make traveling between here and my office in Xalious much more expedient." By this time in her arcane studies, Quintessa had forgotten all about the missive she had sent to Seteth, asking for his hasty appearance as soon as the letter had found his hands. There wasn't much detail left in the letter, but the baroness seemed urgent. It was best not to keep a lady like Quintessa Dragana waiting for long...

Seteth of Sagittae was in glum spirits this evening, and no amount of lovely, lightly-drizzling rain could remedy that. With news that Lord Andor Sprague had postponed his planned ball and art gala due to security concerns entirely unrelated to the young thief and his crystal-thieving plans, sneaking into the manse and pilfering the prized possession would be significantly more difficult. He wasn’t sure he could pull it off -- not with the martial law that seemed permanently in place in the dreary city of Larket. By contrast, the outskirts of Vailkrin and even the Dark Forest seemed almost pleasant. The weather was nice and chilly, the clouds were often a looming grey, and miscreants shuffled about unstopped. To plenty of other people, Larket would seem preferable, with its higher quantity of clear skies and more temperate winter, and its orderly cultural fashion. Crime had been reduced to a sliver in the City of Stone, which in many ways even Seteth appreciated -- murder was often needless, rape was never not disgusting, and public indecency was just plain indecent. But here in the pale moon-lit lands of Vailkrin, freedom rang like a bell. And though he would spend no more time in the Hanging Corpse than absolutely necessary, nor venture into the slave pits to disprove his delusion, Seteth at least enjoyed the unmarked soils outside Vailkrinite walls.

And he had come to enjoy the abode of House Dragana most of all, and not merely in the manner in which he initially did. What had begun as a purely sexualized fascination with the Lady Dragana had seemingly matured into a genuine respect for her intellectual prowess and outside-the-box thinking. In another life, a life which felt more distant than it should have for any lad of nineteen, Seteth could envision Quintessa slumming it by his side in the seediest quarter of Sagittae, eking out a living by sheer force of savvy and an unwillingness to surrender. It was something he would never have considered when he had first met the girl, but in two short months the world had changed. It may have been an age of stagnation for Lithrydel at-large, but for Seteth it had already proven to be a realm of self-discovery. But all good things must come to an end, and the thief feared that the good things he had found with Quintessa would soon fade away. No true progress had been made with the search for the crystals, save for the one, which was now out-of-reach until further notice. Baron Alm and his compatriots expected results, not romance. The clock was ticking as Seteth was permitted entry into House Dragana’s halls, seeking the changeling who had transformed his worldview.

Quintessa was in the middle of dropping objects into her portals when her butler brings Seteth to her, mismatched eyes watching as the items flew out from the matching companion portal and the hex blade giggles each time the experiment succeeds. Next, she drops a live rat through the circle and it comes squeaking out from across the room until it hits the floor and scurries away. Quintessa grins, obviously proud of her success. "Now I'm thinking with portals," she professes, hands on her hips before she turns to see the two men standing before her. "Lady Dragana..." the vampire butler drones on, but Quintessa interrupts him with a gasp and she rushes over to the young thief that accompanied him. "Seteth!" the changeling seems happy to see him, "You got my letter!" At first Quintessa had regarded Seteth as curiosity, something to use and to toy with, but after their trip to the Black Library together she had started to view him in a different light. He was a survivor like she was. He was adaptable and intelligent. He had the grit necessary to make it in this world. Seteth was now more an equal in her eyes than 90 percent of Lithrydel was to her. Slender hands reach out to take his and she pulls him into her laboratory as she gives a lazy nod to her butler, "Thank you, Jeeves. Shut the door on your way out please." The vampire was about to remind Quintessa that his name was not 'Jeeves' but he decided to just close the door instead. It was the safer route. "Sorry we haven't spoken in a few days- I've been very busy with..." she trails off, looking around at her horribly messy lab that was once neat and organized. "My research." she finally finishes, letting go of his hands to move over to her desk and put away the Haathian artifact that was not meant for him to see. "Have you heard from Raphaline?" she changed the subject quickly away from what she'd been working on, "She's not at her cabin in Xalious. If you haven't seen her see might be all the way in Rynvale by now." Quintessa shuts the drawer that the rectangle with a fitted lens was placed inside and slides her bottom to rest on surface ofthe desk. "We might have to search for a new avenue to find these crystals."

Seteth was so taken aback by Quintessa’s forwardness tonight that he almost immediately recovered from the shock of seeing the rat’s teleportation and the changeling’s ability to shatter fourth walls through mere tugging at valves. The young thief held her hand with a certain gentility until she let go, and then he ogled the room with a trademark smirk, his emerald eyes taking in the entirety of the girl’s trinkets and baubles and toys. “As ever, it appears your research has led to success.” He whistled as genuine curiosity briefly overcame him. Quintessa was a survivor, like he was, armed with the grit and determination to make it in this world. Yet whereas he was magicless and swift, she was elemental and unyielding. She was like the gathering storm outside her abode; he the traveler who enjoyed the rain. “I haven’t,” Seteth conceded. “I haven’t heard from Raphaline since before I found out Sprague delayed his gaudy party. I suppose it’s possible that she heard about the delay before I did, and had pressing business back home.” Seteth’s shoulders sagged and he sighed. He took a few liberal-minded steps toward Lady Dragana and deftly hopped up beside her, sharing in the complete, willful ignorance to the desk’s true purpose. “And I agree with you, my lady.” He gave Quintessa the title without a hint of mockery for once. Swaying his feet a bit almost like a child, he gave his shackles a glance. He wore them without coverage around Quintessa and no one else but Quintessa. “I have possible leads, though I had possible leads upon my arrival in Lithrydel as well and none bore fruit. I’ve heard there’s a dust-up in Venturil -- a mage with a certain shimmering artifact who has been causing quite a stir with the saurians. And my contact in Kelay says some elves have been attacking merchants who stray too far from the road, and there have been earthquakes also, though I don’t see the connection on that front.”

Quintessa grins at Seteth when he spoke her title as 'Lady' without mockery for once, flashing him her unnaturally sharp teeth at him as she pulls a leg up onto the desk to fold under her. Seteth might not have noticed until today, but Quintessa didn't wear shoes when she was in her manor. Secretly she hated them, and every moment spent in them was an agony she skillfully suppressed just like she did the pain from the whips of her late father's leather belt. The mention of Venturil and saurians brings back uncomfortable memories of the Razurath, and the odd girl frowns at the prospect of returning there. Would she find Luffy's desiccated corpse still there on the battlefield? "I know about the elves and earthquakes in Kelay," she admits, brushing the hair from her messy bob behind her ear as she slightly turns to face him. "There's a whole mess with rune stones and cultists- nothing to do with these crystals probably." Quintessa didn't know for sure. "But tell me more about this mage- He doesn't sound like anyone in the Guild. The last the Mage's Guild had dealings with saurians it climaxed to the end of the Razurath race."

Seteth suppressed a laugh for worry Quintessa might misinterpret it. Since when had he ever cared what a woman thought? How odd. But had he laughed, the laugh would have been out of recognition that of course she knew about the earthquakes in Kelay. What didn’t she know? It was true that Seteth had ample reason to believe Quintessa seldom slept judging by how far and wide she trekked, and just how many things she seemed to be entangled in. Seteth wandered, too; in fact, in some ways it was all he did. But Quintessa… Quintessa was a lightning rod. “Aye, so this mage, then. I’ve heard conflicting reports. The logical thing to do in cases like these is sift through the sand to find the gold dust -- the things which are mutually agreed-upon via multiple reports. If three different people tell tale of a dragon, and all three say its wings are of a different color, but all agree its eyes were red, chances are two to three of them have bad vision but the dragon’s eyes, at least, are red.” He grinned, leaning in toward the hex blade faux-conspiratorially in a playful tone attempting to mask his agitation over the hourglass that was his life. “These things are almost certainly true: the mage has a band of brigands doing their dirty work; the mage is human; the mage is either fairly young or fairly capable of disguising signs of aging; the mage’s base of operations is somewhere in the mountains not far from Venturil proper; the artifact in the mage’s possession has been seen with them every time they’ve struck; their small army has been responsible for at least thirteen murders; the corpses of the dead are always missing their arms when they’ve been found; the mage has a penchant for attacking during the night -- how cliche, I mean really -- and the locals believe the mage is related to mythical folklore, but my contact believes that to be hogwash.”

Quintessa rarely slept, and while she could hide the bags under her eyes with foundation and eyeshadow, the insanity that lingered at the edges of her mind were becoming harder to deny. Seteth had already witnessed once her succumbing to the primal rage induced from her twisted nature and abusive upbringing. Now, however, her emotions were jovial and placid, even with painful memories tearing away at her heart. Quintessa missed Luffy, the Murder-Dragon of Frostmaw, and she had not yet processed her pain even after all this time. Instead she filled her time with arcane discovery or appealing to her id. The odd girl giggles as Seteth explains his deductive reasoning and she can't help but to stare into his eyes when he speaks to her. How had she not heard of this mage yet. "Worrying," she says, a single finger moving up to tug at her bottom lip, "The Mage's Guild wouldn't like to hear about this," she tells the lad, icy blue and warm hazel eyes drifting away as she thinks. "If they have a small army perhaps I can request a small retinue to assist us. I might be skilled but I don't imagine I can take a whole army... However, if we are stealthy about it we can sneak in an assassinate him. Hmm, seems like there are many different ways we can deal with this Apostate Mage."

Seteth had rather hoped his investigatory monologue would earn him a giggle. Self-satisfied, his own worries began to relax, and his posture gave in fully to comfort. “You’ve always been on top of things,” he suddenly said. “I’ve been in Lithrydel for only a fraction of time, but I’m given to understand you’ve not been in plain sight for much longer. Look how much you’ve already built, how much you’ve already been entrusted with.” He waved his left hand in a display of their surroundings, the shackle on his wrist pulsating with a faint blue glow as he did so, filling his forearm with a painful bit of discharge. It did that at times, often at the most inopportune of them. The shackles were every bit the punitive burden they’d been designed to be. Seteth was unable to suppress a flinch, and he bit his tongue to conceal the hurt. “I admire it,” he continued, quick to regain his verbal and nonverbal composure alike. “We,” the thief said with a smile. “You’re immediately involving yourself with this, and I admire that as well.” Assassination may have indeed been their best bet but further inquiry was not unwise. “I’d like to visit Venturil; further perspective is warranted, and besides, I’ve not yet been there myself.” He winked at her. “How am I ever going to know everything there is about the world without basking in its fullness, or stealing the wallets of the well-to-do?”

Quintessa was surprised how Seteth's words managed to bring a blush to her cheeks as blue and hazel eyes find their way back to the familiar green of the thief's. The hex blade paused for a moment to look around. The was Larewen's laboratory, Larewen's Manor, and Quintessa was just using it as she pleased- A product of being at the right place at the right time. Larewen was the first to truly see Quintessa's potential and pulled her out of the muck of Black Pond to make something of her. If only the elder vampire could see her now... But that was not all, Quintessa had already secured her position in the Necromancer's Guild, Mage's Guild, and Warrior's Guild, raising faster than many others before her. Her list of deeds grew longer, and her allies grew more powerful. Quintessa never stopped to think about it until now but at Seteth's admission of admiration she couldn't help but bask in it for a second. The changeling sighs in contentment and turns back to the lad, a pale hand creeping over to touch his leg. "Thank you," she says, a genuine smile gracing her chalky features. "You're right, we should do reconnaissance first. Know thy enemy as you know thy self- The Art of Aramoth. I assume you are familiar with laying low and gathering information. While we gather intel we can strategize. It's better to have multiple ways to advance anyway."

Seteth wondered if this was what it was like to know one was in a dream, dreaming pretty and unattainable things, better days that would never come, and knowing that they would soon wake up and the dream would be lost in the aether of the mind. Quintessa Dragana was his ally, his friend, and perhaps the ‘something more’ by which he had been originally smitten, but it didn’t change the facts. Seteth was still caught in the hourglass, the shifting sands of time his keeper and his eventual killer. He either gathered the seven crystals or he didn’t; if he didn’t he’d be dead, and if he did, his masters would thank him by way of some torture or another and take him far from this realm, far from this land, far from this manse and far from Quintessa. “Life is but a dream,” he blurted out all of a sudden, taking the young woman’s leg-bound hand in his, and fitting his fingers between her own. “I’m a prisoner to my captors, my lady. My fate is bound to my own potential successes, and the odds are slim I’ll escape a grim epilogue -- the only question is just how grim. But I won’t stop searching for a way to be free of this pain,” he said, waving his free arm and allowing her to see the realm him, the shackle which glistened and sent him spasms. “If anyone can help, it will be you.” His smile returned. Leaning over boldly, he kissed the changeling, though on her forehead and not her lips. Even Seteth of Sagittae’s boldness only went so far in the close proximity of a woman as dangerous as she. “Let’s head to Venturil at your earliest convenience. In the meantime, I am yours to do with what you choose.”

Quintessa let her smile grow just a tiny bit more as he spoke. He had such a way with language. "You have such a way with language," she whispers to him as he takes her hand. The heart that was supposed to be undead and motionless began to beat faster as Seteth sent on, and the teenaged spellcaster could feel herself getting swept up in the moment again, like she always did. It was hard for Quintessa to deny her passion. "But this is our dream." she whispers, leaning closer to the young thief, "And dreams are my domain..." The kiss that was meant for her forehead is intercepted by her lips as she presses herself against him, her free hand moving up to caress his cheek. This is what she chose to do with him in the meantime and she would maintain this kiss for as long as he'd allow before she was satisfied enough to break the kiss herself, surfacing for air to clear her mind. "Seteth," she breathes, her eyes refocusing on his face, "I won't let you die. I promise. I'm going to do everything in my power to help you."

Seteth had kissed before, as any street rat with limited entertainment options surely would, but the kisses had always been a purely sensual thing, a bit of fun between starvation and pilfered bread. This was something else entirely. In that poignant moment, he knew he’d been a fool to notice the woman’s physicality before her supreme mentality. Such thoughts had never entered his young mind before; romance was just a buttered-up word for traipses and tumbling and subsequently separate ways. The kiss they held seemed to halt the very hourglass of Seteth’s life, adding a punctuative grace to Quintessa’s promise. “And I believe you, just as strongly as I believe *in* you,” Seteth said. It had always been his eyes which were the singular doorway into his soul; never had he mastered masking them from the outside world, but he had at least garnered complete control over the rest of his countenance. Now, however, his cheeks went red and his smile covered his face from edge to blushing edge. He had an inkling of suspicion that he looked comically exaggerated, but he let vanity be swept aside if only for the kiss. When dawn came, they would set out, the two of them against the sands of time, in search of a madman mage and the thinnest hopes of a crystal to change both their fates forever...