THE CHOICE

She had just bent down to drink from a creek when a familiar presense was felt. "I notice a great many things, Zephyr," Sakkara murmured, wiping the cold water from her chin and standing. "Your absence is not the least of which. The Stones have called to every Dúnedain, no matter how astray." I think of you every day; I hear you in the wind and see you in the dancing leaves. But she did not say so, choosing instead to turn and face her former student with an impassive facade, not thoroughly convincing. Her heart ached. "Iskaldrik is healed. You must be content." I fought for it only in your honor, and in my daughter's.

"They called and yet I did not answer...", he spoke only in his own mind, a thought corrupted by the Dark One's influence, one that he knew he would regret saying out loud for it wasn't something he'd believed was right, he was the one who wanted to help the Iskarans the most amongst those of druidic nature; he'd lost his place, his right and his closest friend over this, and yet he could not answer the call to help that Kingdom and, most importantly, its people... Through pain he'd fought day and night, at times, for his plan to reclaim leadership of his organization, in others, inside his mind, led to places he'd never been by an unseen force, unable to turn away to pick up the pieces he'd left behind, all of that as assertion of dominance, to show the Genasi he would not be the one in control soon enough. "No matter how astray...", the words rang as bells to his ears, but he didn't see his actions as incorrect, he'd done nothing but fight for what was right, for good, and there she was, judging him again. She loathes you... Yes, that must be what it was, after all this time, it was all the same, he was still the one in the wrong. You are nothing but a failure to her... It made sense, that's why she couldn't see things the way he did, because in her mind she would always think lowly of him, because the Dúnedain could never be wrong. "The Stones themselves had to call for the Dúnedain for you all to realize that it's better to do something than do nothing and it seems not a thing has changed..." He scoffed, a giggle following as if it was comedic. "-I'm still the evil Genasi that chose people over their duties... What a sin! I'm still the one astray..." She still looked at him as a rebel, a pitiful creature.

Show her your truth... Maybe he should, afterall, he deserved the space to make himself heard after all that had been done. Zephyr was no longer one that could hold it all in and pretend like everything was fine. "And you must be dissatisfied then. Every single one of you must've hated each second of this madness, afterall, how is it different from what I did? Aren't we the same now?" He laughed, although there was no amusement, it was rage that was brewing inside of him. "Wasn't it those same Dúnedain that told me my concern was unrequited? That I had to find peace in balance as an observer, that the problems would solve themselves with time or some bullshit like that..." His smile cracked, leaving behind the intensity of his feelings unattended by the mask he usually wore. "-Or perhaps it takes evil to manifest in a different way for an action to be warranted...?" He stopped himself, his eyes showing more emotion than he would have wanted. "If you-..." Say it, she deserves it... He couldn't bring himself to it, his words had failed him, he could never blame only her for abandoning him. "If any of you had listened to me back then... Iskaldrik wouldn't have fallen to begin with." It was due to the evil he fought against, the one he alerted the Dúnedain about and was shunned away for, the shaming, the prejudice and that damned inquisition against the supernatural that Iskaldrik had fallen prey to the enemy so easily. "Go on... Tell me I'm wrong, Sakkara. I dare you..." There was no more line diving where Zephyr ended and the Dark One's influence began. Good boy...

Getting information about the weird shit stirring under Caribella, however? That was the sort of information plenty of people were concerned about, so her seeking answers wouldn’t come and bite her in the ass. 

“That is certainly a question to be asking a customer,” she drawls in amusement as she leans backward and crosses her leg. “Would saying yes give me a discount or just grant you the satisfaction of the answer?

Their relationship had always been one of give and take, and while she does enjoy his company at times, she knows that rarely does he do anything without getting something in exchange… At least when it comes to his exchanges with her.

“Caribella has been acting strange,” she says slowly, deliberately. “And I thought the knowledge as to why would be under your purview.”

"Customer?! Aren't we friends already?" He inquired with a joyful tone, although the question was rhetorical at best and a joke at worst. They weren't, but that didn't mean he could not say so playfully even though they both knew of that truth, he was just someone who knew and she was someone who wanted to know. It was a good partnership, a relationship that could last for longer than many, since people like her, eager and powerful, always wanted to know something and people like him, who happened to come across intel easily, could always be trusted with knowing or gathering those informations. "Unfortunately, a discount is out of question, money rarely lasts in my hands, you see? I'm quite the spender... But I would be very amused, nonetheless!" It wasn't a lie, but most of what he spent his money on was for his organization, buying items and artifacts that were of another client's interest or greasing the right person's palm for hearsay, rumors and "look the other way's".

"Caribella was always strange..." Of course the Captain would want to know of that island in the middle of that bay of The Veiled Sea formed within Taravell. His eyes and ears were lacking there, but not nonexistent; he'd gathered some information on the matter as more of a passtime than something he intended on selling, it was good to know it wasn't for nothing. "-But... I might've listened in on 'shark hot gossip' and 'turtle fun rumors'..." Obviously a joke, since as Zephyr knew all too well sharks didn't tend to gossip nor did turtles care about more than the next decent current they could catch to reach a good crayfish hunting ground, but it was enough to make it known that he did have something on the matter at hand.

Zephyr span his knife around his finger once, catching it on his palm and sheathing it inside his jacket as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the table, with a smirk on his lips. "However... That information is much harder to get than the last one... I'm out of favors to ask as of now, so...-" He pointed out, afterall, he was now in control of The Link, there was virtually nothing he couldn't achieve or find through his connections. "What do you intend on offering me as payment for my services, Valdís Wavebreaker?" He questioned as he mused and wondered, thinking maybe she would have something interesting to offer or that they could find a proper price through negotiation.

Vash enjoyed shopping. Of all the sins now reflected in his monstrous form, the desire to adorn himself in comfortable fabrics and colors, to wear a ruby ring and a teardrop ruby earring, to eat fine food, and to step into places where he was not welcome—these sins were the ones he most easily accepted. While the horns that marked him as twisted were easily hidden, and his cloven hooves could largely be masked, his rectangular pupils would always give him away. So, he wore slightly tinted glasses. He was not so much a devil in disguise as he was a monster imitating a peacock for its elegance, attempting to draw the right attention and dissuade others from looking too deeply at him.

The desire to enjoy his time and explore was what caused him to seek out a new store—one he hadn’t been a customer of yet. The store, The Eastern Winds, was not an established store by any means. He wasn’t sure if there would be a crowd or whether it would be quiet (he hoped for quiet). Though, whether it had a dedicated clientele or not didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter that there was nothing Vash truly needed.

Right now, he was high on humanity. The feeling of euphoria wouldn’t last forever; the soul he had devoured would eventually lose its flavor, leaving him hollow. For now, though, he could enjoy the feeling of being alive—having the purity of a non-blight-tainted soul residing in the cage of his skeleton gave him a moment of peace. He didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t partake so liberally of souls… he should suffer. Penance. Fire. Pain. He should suffer because he didn’t deserve peace and comfort.

He would force himself to suffer tenfold in the coming weeks. Starting tomorrow. Or the day after.

Today, he would follow the path she had told him about. Her name forgotten, he remembered her as the beautiful young woman with hair the color of raven’s wings and eyes that sparkled with blue fire. She had giggled and nuzzled against him, speaking about the store and the mysterious things it held, as well as the enigmatic shopkeeper. She had offered to go with him. “We could make it a date,” she had said, and he laughed, pressing her back into the soft bed. He could have let her go… she was kind, doting, sweet… she had the voice of a songbird and the potential to sing on stage… but he wished to add the sound of her giggle, and her songs, to the symphony of misdeeds he heard in his mind. He wanted to keep her, and because he knew he couldn’t—he selfishly made sure that no one would be able to enjoy her as he had.

Drawing himself out of his memories, he saw the sign indicating the entryway to the shop. It moved back and forth with a slow swing, as though there were wind to push it despite the humid, calm day. He studied it for a moment before allowing himself inside. There, he saw the shopkeeper. Or the one he assumed to be the shopkeeper. Perhaps it was an assistant. Or a clever thief who had murdered the shopkeeper and stashed his body underneath the floorboards.

“The man of mystery, I presume?” Vash greeted. “The stories a friend of mine told me about your store said it was as peculiar as the one who ran it. I wanted to see it for myself.”

The Genasi had recently bought plants and flowers as decor for his shop from a beautiful intricate place in another part of Lysara, the Wildflower Well, and, now that they had arrived, he was trying to find the correct place to position them. That was one of the reasons he only ever noticed someone had come in when he heard the steps closer to the balcony, turning towards the visitor and possible client with a huge smile.

"Man of mystery?" He asked, furrowing his brows slightly and then letting out a short chuckle. "I'm not as mysterious as one might think, really." That was not true, but he'd rather pretend he was an open book than have others try to figure him out and find things he didn't know he had to hide. "Good thing your friend speaks greatly of my store, though. Who would that be, I ask? Maybe a discount on their next purchase is in order." Not too much, he was still an indebted man. "I am Zephyr, the owner of The Eastern Wind." He offered a hand towards the other, over the glass balcony. "Nice to meet you...?" He awaited an introduction.

The instructions for the drop were followed to the letter as per usual. Aegean arrived at the safe house, face shrouded by his hood and his weave, with the ledger deposited on the lone table precisely at the specified time. “Every detail of each Iskaran merchant and trader’s disrupted foreign shipping deals. As of the time of collecting this data, none have been able to resume business.” Just as he did not need other thieves inquiring too deeply into his movements, Aegean minded himself and did not even attempt to probe Phyr's thoughts. He kept his eyes trained forward. Secrecy was a condition of these intel drops and the last thing he needed was to incur the ire of someone who paid him decently for jobs like this, call if professional courtesy. “I wouldn’t dare assume what your intentions with such information are, but should you choose to move in on these ventures you'd surely see sizable profit returns,” he says, thankful that Calla was requested personally to assist the Agents with clearing refugees. “Returns that I can expect a percentage of if I’m to continue my good work for you, no?”

"The only faith I place is in myself." Alessia's betrayal still sat on his shoulders, there had been a time when he thought it would be the two of them against the world. It was only in retrospect that Alrik realized how childish it was, their paths diverged and from here on he would walk his alone. Phyr's candor surprised him though, "I didn't expect to hear that from one of their own." Alrik had eyes, insight, and history with the merchant beside him. That they were both hiding in plain sight in Yggdrasildal wasn't lost on him. Alrik, who'd never met a witch he trusted, then asked, "What made you so jaded?"

The merchant stopped for a second and decided to look beyond his own personal experience, as it did not matter. "I think I've just drank too much." He laughed it off. "It doesn't even really matter... The Druids may be assholes, but they can be helpful to the right people." If that aligned or did not interfere with their notion of balance and equilibrium, that was. So far as the other's wishes were fair, he could find answers in their Ancient Stones. The Genasi stood up from his chair. "I think we'll see how that goes... Good luck, young friend." He chuckled, leaving a few coins to pay the bill on the table and left.

"You might need to stop that before I grow an ego," she teased him. But Phyr's question had her then reaching over and ruffling his long, dark hair as she grinned. "If Fate wills it, a long time from now." A long time could be defined as years, and druids still lived to a ripe age. If she was lucky, Sakkara would leave this world an old woman again - her staff serving as a cane instead, laugh lines on her face and a sense of peace that she would not be returning again this time. "Because we still need to make it to Lysara, don't we? Astoria has been exhausted, you have learned everything you need here. I wanted to keep it a surprise until I was sure but tonight I am. I've continued drawing the card of Death in regards to your path as a student. As I've told you, it isn't a scary card, especially not for you. It just means the end of one thing," She looked hopeful and excited, thinking of all the opportunities a new country would have for him. "It's time to expect the start of something new."

Nonetheless, that wasn't a topic for today. He offered Sakkara a kind smile. "You are right." He agreed, his mind always looking for ways to find the brighter side and hoping that she had a better knowledge on that than he did. If she said it didn't mean bad things, he could trust her, right? She certainly knew what she was talking about. "Maybe I can expect the start of my sleep soon." He joked, offering a teasing smile to her. It was almost time for them to go to bed since the day of tomorrow was something they were yet to see. "I'm sure I'll be dreaming of that life you told me about, though." He was a dreamer after all... He got up from his seat and started preparing their camp for the night.

“I suspect you may know more about it than you’re letting on,” she responded, playing into his pretend ignorance for a moment or two, but his shop did interest to her, if only as an easy topic over which to engage in small talk. “Would you tell me a bit about it? Perhaps I’ll stop by before I leave the city, or the next time I return.” She didn’t have much coin to spend despite the fact she’d held a high station back in Iskaldrik.

Her eyes shifted to him again and she spent a few moments trying to decide how much it made sense to share with the unfamiliar man. His question seemed genuine, but a part of Freydis still wondered if she was more of a joke to him than anything else given their initial conversation back at the barrier. “I suppose part of it might boil down to culture shock,” she finally answered after some consideration, “and another part of it comes down to preconceived notions about me, about Iskarans in general. It seems many of those who hold higher station here think we’re savages, and perhaps as a society, we do lean a little more heavily into that sort of thing than they do here. But they look at us like we’re animals sometimes.” She was quiet for a moment before adding, “Especially the ones of us who…. Were taken.” She hoped that was all the explanation Zephyr would need to understand her meaning.

Zephyr would say he was the type that didn't deal with first impressions, and it was true, but he knew many others weren't as he was. Thankfully she seemed to be one to look past the awkward interaction they'd had before, which was a good sign. Maybe he'd misjudged her before, when he was given a recommendation by one of the members of his organization to invite her - at the time he only saw her as someone who would turn a blind eye to both good and evil, too cold to care, and that did not suit his vision of The Link. He didn't know if the status of refugee had changed her or if he'd just missed something on his analysis, but it was interesting to see he'd been wrong, as it was not a common thing in his world.

Hearing her speak of the refugees was fascinating. "I see..." He replied with a nod. "When I left Lysara to venture through Iskaldrik, I was firmly advised otherwise by friends I had made... 'It's a land of brutes and cruelty', they said... 'They'll chain you up and eat you alive'..." He looked away from her, to the waters of Tiber Bay. "But I didn't find that there. I found a land of prideful brave people... Of people who could endure injustice and grew stronger when faced against it. Misguided and mistreated..." He smiled over at her. "What I mean to say is that there is prejudice within Lysara as there was within Iskaldrik. But, as in times of need most of you grew to see past the innate prejudice against magic, it's just a matter of time until one can see past the surface of the other here." He shrugged it off. "Soon enough you'll find something good for you here, I'm sure."

Valdís is taken by surprise when the other manages to clear a table with a look and a gesture, but she keeps her face neutral as she tucks away that bit of information. It is different, she thinks, from having a vast information network, and she supposes she might have to keep a closer eye on the thief than she had initially decided to. Clearly, what he hides goes far deeper than she thinks. 

“A thief and a gentleman, what a pleasant surprise,” she snarks as she takes the offered chair and settles comfortably, leaning into the table and resting her head on her hand as she observes the thief through narrowed eyes. The Captain of the Ran Armada considers the informant for a moment, before the answer slips through her lips. “I want information on Iskaldrik and the survivors. What happened, what is happening, who made it out. That sort of thing.”

The barrier makes it so there will be no excursions into Iskaldrik for a while, but sooner or later it will fall, and she will be ready.

Her next words, however, spiked his interest, and the smile he had on his lips turned a bit less mischevous. "May I ask what you need that sort of information for, Captain?" He asked. They both knew all too well she didn't have to answer that question as long as she had something of value to offer, and she seemed to be offering the one thing he once wanted from her, but also a thing that was hard to accept since the barrier was still up and no one from the outside knew if those who mattered inside were still alive or had already been consumed by either the war or the darkspawn.

The Genasi didn't say anything for a moment, but soon looked over at the bartender who'd brought them two cups of ale, thanking him with a nod and watching as he went away. "I could give you the information you want, but... f Iskaran refugees can't be saved through your methods, what will you give me instead?"

"Then a hint, as is fair." Alrik took a beat, it wasn't in his nature to divulge anything that might make him vulnerable in any way, but the displacement had left him with an air of absolute certainty. He was a violent creature, he knew this, and he was hardly fair toward those who trusted him most. Alessia among them. "I don't know, yet I'm not without options. The world is happening around me and I-" Alrik paused for a moment as he chipped away at a piece of the bar, earning a scowl from the wench before he ceased his fidgeting. "I don't see my place in it. I want to go home, but there's a barrier between me and Iskaldrik. The druids once traveled through the mist, I'm hoping to find my solution among their old stones." Another beat passed, "Home," Alrik added, "that's what I'd buy."

Zephyr listened to Alrik speak, acknowledging his words and the feeling that he expressed through them. "I know the feeling of missing home..." He really did. When he faced the arches he did not once feel alone or even have a single thought of going back to his old household, and years went by seeminglessly as he studied the way of the Druids before eventually he found himself alone in this world, no family alive to call his own, it was only then that regret filled his heart that he could not be there for their final moments, but all stories have an ending. "Don't put all your hopes on their ancient stones and comforting words, though..." It was clear he still was not over his past with the Dúnedain. They had abandoned him once before. "They're known for being pricks sometimes."

“If I were to allow you to try and sell me the idea you mentioned last time, would that be a worthy price? Or has that ship sailed now that the situation has changed?” She doesn’t doubt that there are still people attempting to leave Iskaldrik, and if it were the case, her ships are likely to be a better escape than the long ass journey the troupe had made North. But perhaps the logistics are too complicated, now that Phyr is here and not over there. “And if not, do you have any preferences as for what you wish to know in exchange?”

Another huff of amusement echoes in her chest as her eyes flicker to meet Phyr’s with a playful smirk, as the raider wonders what similarities is the information broker zooming into. What comes to mind is their dislike of the law, and their desire for information, but who knows with the information broker. 

“Well, that is one thing we don’t have in common,” she muses as she falls into step next to him and heads for the Cisterns, opening the door for Phyr once they reach it and gesturing him inside. “Best you go first and secure the seats, what with this being more your territory than mine.”

At this point, he's been to the Cisterns enough times to be able to recognize a few people inside as he slips in, greeting the bartender with a tip of his head and a smile, although only the first part was mirrored by the tall man, and greeting a few other members of the Thieves' Guild before finding a table he liked, one that he usually sat at. There were two talking at this table, so he gave them a look and gestured them to leave and so they did, before he turned to the captain. "Please, have a seat." He offered, pulling a chair to her, although just as a fun performance before he took his own seat across from there.

The fox gestured to the bartender and the message was received by him as the large man started preparing two cups for them. "So, Valdís Wavebreaker... What do you wish to know from us?" He specifically said 'us' instead of 'me' to make sure she knew she wasn't talking to the man Zephyr, but to the organization behind him. He was sure she knew how that usually went, if he didn't have the information at hand, he could ask his robins to search the intel later, and he'd hardly accept payment before their service.