Taskhand Verin Thelyss

Verin’s gaze only blurs for a moment at the magic, smiling at the sound of his brother’s voice. He hurries over to the tree, his brow furrowing in concern at seeing Essek up in the tree. “Hey! Be careful up there!” He warns, but he’s grinning ear to ear the moment he realizes what Essek is doing. He can still find his name on the tree among their hundreds of ancestors. “Is little Lilliana with you?”

"I am careful!" Essek looks down at him with his hands on his hips, offended that Verin would suggest otherwise. Though it is short lived as he turns back to the name scribbled with magic on the bark, frustrated that he was not getting the results he wanted. This was usually done by an Umavi, and close to the name of the persons parents, but he was being a show-off. "Not with me, no. But she is with the servants inside. They are acting like they have never seen a baby in their lives." To be fair, Verin was the last child to come directly from the main line of den Thelyss, so it has been a hundred years since they last had one in the den.

Verin rolls his eyes at his brother’s attitude, but he can’t hide the fond smile that still creeps onto his face regardless. Rather than wait for Essek to finish. Verin grabs a branch and starts climbing up himself. Nostalgia washes over him, remembering well when he’d climb this tree over and over as a kid. Once he reaches the closest sturdy branch to Essek, he sits down and takes a look at Essek’s handiwork. “What’re you still working on? The engraving looks fine.” He runs his fingers over his and Essek’s old engraving, their mother’s calligraphy immaculate.

Essek looks at him as he climbs. As children, he would never be the one in the tree, he would be below yelling at Verin to climb down before he fell and hurt himself. The only time he did manage to climb a bit ended up with a sprained ankle and a request to their mother to buy him the scroll for Feather fall. He then huffs, tapping the engraving tool against his boot. "It's not...It is lacking something and I do not know what." Ah, Essek, ever the perfectionist.

The climb is considerably more difficult when wearing a suit of armor, but thankfully he’s trained enough now to handle the extra weight. He’s not sure if the branch with handle him for long, but.. it’s fine for now. Hopefully. He looks back over at Essek’s engraving and hums thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it’s ’cause Lilliana-Namid is different from the others on the tree. She’s not only a Dynasty child, but a Zemnian one too. It needs something.. Caleb-y. Maybe. I dunno.”

While it was incredibly impressive that Verin could haul his and his armour's weigh while climbing, Essek, being his brother, can't help but think he looks like a toddler climbing stairs bigger than him. He bites that down, though. "Do not fall. If you fall I cannot help you." Essek thinks hard on Verin's words, on what Caleb like could mean. Cats, obviously, but he was not going to add doodles to their den's tree as if he was a kid. Maybe he could add some zemniam framing around the name. He waves his hand, the illusion spreading into decorative designs of plants and flowers around it, things he has seen in the cover of Caleb's children's stories, but he doesn't seem to convince. "Perhaps... I could cast a spell on it so that it replays something when touched."

“I’m not gonna fall! Even if I do, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far of a drop.” Verin leans against the trunk of the tree, watching Essek work his magic, literally, much like he would when they were kids. “What would you replay, though? Some memory of Lilliana and Caleb? That would definitely be unique.. it won’t hurt the tree though, right?”

"If I have to tell mother that you fell from the tree again she is going to ask if we are back to being children." He seemed amused by the idea. He had always taken every chance to prove to their mother that they were, in fact, their children and not some souls she had given a body to. "It will not hurt it, no. It is just like a sticker of sorts, something that could be taken off it needed. A memory sounds nice, or perhaps a message. I could also leave the instruction for spells Caleb and I have built together so she will find them when she is older. So many options..." Essek's eyes move as he stares at the name, searching what he could condense in a single moment that will be remembered by anyone who touches the tree.

Verin rolls his eyes, but smiles all the same at the mental image of their mother, disappointed and bemused all at once, hearing about her sons’ chaos. He reaches up to run his fingers over Lilliana-Namid’s newly engraved name, humming in thought. “Well, what if you make it a memory of you and Caleb reading to Namid? That way she can hear both your voices again even after you’re gone.” His smile turns bittersweet. “And she’ll have a bedtime story from her dads that she can play for her children and her children’s children, for generations to come.”

Essek thinks about it. Namid, if she ever became consecuted, would be an outlier within their den, with her parents not being so. Verin and Essek temporarily lost their mother, and even then that was strange, but they grew up with the assurance that she would always be there. He doubted that even if consecution was offered to Caleb that he would accept it, so leaving something to her to remember them by was not such a bad idea. That and he loved the idea of engraving into their tree the fact that a human from the Empire made it into their family, a poke at their rigid ideals of what the den should be. "That sounds lovely, Verin." He nods, resolute in it, and floats the set of tools laying on the ground towards him so he can store the one he had been using. "I will tell Caleb, then. He has a better hand for these things than I do. Did I ever tell you his tower is full of books her remembers even though he has only read them once?"

Verin grins ear-to-ear when Essek praises his idea, always happy to help in any way he can. Though he is tempted to smack to toolkit out of the air when Essek floats it up.. he’s still his little brother, after all, but he decides against it and behaves. This time. “I can’t imagine ever reading enough books to fill a whole tower, especially not in a short lifespan like his was.. nerd.” He sighs, as if disappointed in his future brother-in-law for being so much like his brother. Verin was hoping for someone he could spar with, but if Caleb was limited to melee weapons only, Verin fears he’d ana the poor man in half. “Do you need any help getting down?”

Essek raises his chin as he did when he was proud of something. "He is a very diligent and studious man, I am sure he will do great things with the added time he will have now." Essek tucks the kit under his arm, a little clumsily getting his legs out from under him. "Hm, no." He grins and then just drops from the branch. Though, of course, no harm comes to him as he just floats down. Nothing else could be expected from the man that defied gravity daily.

Verin rolls his eyes, used to his brother’s pride but no more pleased with it. He follows Essek down, taking much longer to actually climb, of course, and lands next to him with a thump. “Well, now what? Are we finally going to take a look at whatever’s going on with mother’s telescope?” He reaches over to Essek to pick a leaf out of his hair, snickering at the sight of his high-and-mighty brother with leaves in his hair like an overgrown squirrel.

Essek looks at the leaf as if it had offended his whole family, passing a hand through his hair in case there were any other intruders in it with a huff. "Yes, finally. Curiosity has been eating me, let's go before I am fully devoured." He starts heading back to the house, matching Verin's speed. "Mother is having tea with Leylas, so we should have a few hours for ourselves."

Verin grazes his fingertips over the blossoms of the tallest flowers as they walk, gaze flitting between every beautiful gift of nature present in the garden. Growing up in the estate, the gardens were always his favorite part. He’d spend most of his childhood training, but when he wasn’t training or sleeping he was out here, playing make believe and getting caked in mud. “Tea with her majesty? Is the Queen feeling better?”

Essek seems content with merely looking around, taking his surroundings in like he had done since he was a child. Their mother used to joke that he stared at things so much he might need glasses. Which, he did, and never wore them, but he was not going to tell her that. "She is, from what I know she had returned to her duties fully already. In truth, the ritual for curing Typhros only exhausts individuals for a few days, though I guess getting reacquaintanced with ones soul must be a strange process. I think mother wants to ask her about it to be prepared."

Verin nods, focus returning to his brother as they enter the estate. “I see.. I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant experience. Are you sure it has no adverse effects?” He climbs the servant stairs, the main staircase still under construction, but doesn’t have to step over any gaps this time on the way to their mother’s room. “How do you know it won’t hurt Mother? I know I have no place to ask when you’re the expert, but.. you know. We just got her back.”

Essek follows, floating up the stairs with ease. There were still things that needed to be replaced or fixed, specially the paintings. "It should not hurt her, no. I had my doubts when working on Leylas, since it would be the first time I tried it, but it has proven to be harmless." He thinks on how to explain it, rubbing his chin as he worked on simplifying it. "Think of a soul as a pearl necklace. When consecution ocurs there is a period of time during a new life where pearls are added to it, but they are different sizes and of different origins. Add to that that passing through a beacon alters the structure of the necklace, twisting it and corrupting it, and you just have a tangled mess. The process of the cure is about untangling it. Nothing is getting removed or altered, just rearranged." As he speaks, he projects in his hand a simulation of what a soul looks like. It was almost like an atom, if Verin knew what that was. Essek had said many times that the reason why he refused consecution was because it messed with the soul, aside from any other heretic stuff, so perhaps this is what he meant.

Verin still looks… lost, but he does seem fascinated by the the projection. “Huh.. well, if that’s the case, then how long does your cure ‘untangle’ a soul? Could her majesty and mother develop Typhros again?” He asks as he pulls out a rings of keys to unlock and open the door to their mother’s room, still kept as clean and tidy as possible while still keeping most people out. “Do you have the steps of the cure written down, even? So that people can recreate it and cure more on a wider scale?”

Essek lets out a little hum as he thinks, probably running calculations in his head. "A few lifetimes, I would think, though there has never been anything like this so it is hard to say. Typhros is years worth of this tangling. Perhaps it would take the same time, perhaps less, or it may be individual to each person. But it will reocurr, it is a flaw native to consecution. The whole process, from a soul's standpoint, is barbaric. It is incredible it does not cause more issues. It is hard to research, though, since the whole process is full of secrecy." He was probably exaggerating, being talking freely like the heretic he was, but he seemed convinced on his phrasing, and his knowledge. Unaware of the effect his words may have, he glides into the room, looking for their mothers telescope. "No, I have not written it down, nor will I until my pardon is permanent and the Queen realizes her way of handling the research of Dunamancy is foolish. Without my title it is the only thing I can hold against her. But even if I wrote it down it would be hard to find other people able to perform it."

Verin grimaces at his brother’s.. harsh interpretation of consecution, but decides not to argue about it this time. They have bigger things to worry about, and he knows he won’t be able to change Essek’s mind anymore than Essek would be able to change his. “You don’t have it written down anywhere? But what if, Light forbid, something should happen to you? Your research would be lost forever! Don’t you want Typhros to continue to be cured beyond just what benefits you?”

Essek huffs, as if he couldn't fathom why Verin would be so worried about it. "I have my notes, maybe Caleb would be able to use them if something happened to me. If he could even retrieve them." Essek snuffs the illusion he had been playing with, his next words angry, but not at Verin. "The cure for Typhros was not discovered because I am some incredible unseen prodigy or because I was chosen by your god, it would have been discovered much sooner if the Queen had not kept the beacons for herself so greedily. Imagine what arcanists would have been able to do already if they had been given access to one, ever. If I were to die and my notes were lost, a new cure would be discovered in weeks if she just let people actually work." When Essek was not burying himself in his work, he was playing a complex game of politics. In this case, he was poking at Leylas pride by keeping the cure for himself. If she wanted to come after him, she would have to liberate the knowledge of the beacons to more people. If she wanted to keep him working, she would have to give him access to it.

Verin’s face scrunches up in the way it often does when he and his brother argue morals or ethics. “But what about all the people who will die while you play the long game? Hundreds could be cured, if not thousands, if you shared your knowledge. You could teach others to replicate it, or help some personally! Do you not think it cruel to withhold such a cure from our people?” He argues back, voice soft but urgent. Politics mean very little to him beyond what he must indulge in for his job, and he’s always had issue with politics interrupting true progress. In a way, that makes him very alike to his brother. The same idea, just with different approaches.

"And what good would it do for people to have instructions for a cure they cannot replicate without a beacon? To watch their loved ones suffer knowing they could be cured if their Queen stopped amassing some rock she calls a god? Do you really think if that gets out that someone else will not try to steal one?" It was good their mother was not around to listen to him. He was bothered, a bit of desperation bleeding out of him as he remembered why he even stole a beacon in the first place. "Besides, Typhros is not fatal. People who have it die only because their Queen orders them too." He knows that well. Their mother did not die peacefully in bed, she died as he drove a dagger into her heart. Unconsciously, he wipes his hands on his robes, as if they were dirty with something. "I have... Studied to create an artificial beacon, if we cannot find one ourselves. But it will not be useful for this."

Verin shoots his brother a sharp warning glare at his calling the beacon a ‘rock’. “Maybe if this knowledge was revealed to the public, her majesty would have no choice but to allow further research, lest it be stolen again. At the very least, it would give the people some hope.” He thinks of all the people he’s had to send home from the field for having Typhros. All the sick he’s condemned to execution for something they cannot control and all the family members he’s had to console. If he could alleviate even a fraction of their pain, he would in an instant, no matter the consequences. Perhaps that makes him foolish. “Typhros may not kill the body, but it kills the mind and the soul. Besides, can you really be considered living if you’ve lost everything that makes you who you are?” He looks affronted by the idea of an artificial beacon, scoffing. “I doubt anything artificial could match the power of a true beacon, though. Pure divinity like that cannot be replicated.”

Essek looks as if he is going to say something, but then closes his mouth considering Verin's words, scrunching his nose as he thinks. Essek was thinking of restricting the cure for now so people wouldn't cause unrest, but maybe that is exactly what he needed. A sharp smile spreads across his face, the type he puts on when a dangerous idea ignites in his head. "Your mind may be fitted for the battlefield, but it is clear why you are not a mere soldier, Verin. I will ask Uraya for help." That was Essek's way of calling him intelligent. Sometimes he got too focused on a single point and needed someone to see it and reel him back. He may know about secrets and magic and spionage, but Verin knew about people, and society, and how any advancements or drawback rippled through the population. Essek does nod at Verin's concern over the mind. "It is a very cruel fate to have your mind tattered indeed. I... Have had my brushes with magics that alter the mind, and it is indeed awful. Thankfully it seems things get much better after it is cured." Essek raises his head proud at Verin's distaste. "Pure divinity was consecuted through an articial beacon in a person's head, I am sure it could handle a mortal." He seemed excited by the idea, his ears peaking up a little. There was so much more about it he could share.

Verin looks like a fish out of water at Essek’s compliment, torn between disbelief and pride. Of all the things Essek praised him for, his intelligence was rarely one of them. He grins at the compliment, but the sharp smile on Essek’s face feels a bit.. off, almost dangerous. He decides to ignore it in favor of basking in the praise, much like he ignores Essek’s heretical talk regardless of how excited he seems over it. He never quite understands Essek’s more theoretical arcane talk, and part of him doesn’t want to. He’s relied on the Luxon for guidance and hope in his darkest moments, and the thought that it might all be a lie is.. unfathomable, unacceptable. He’d rather live with senseless hope than all-consuming despair. Verin brushes past his brother and into the balcony, where he brushes his fingers along the ornate patterns lining their mother’s telescope. “Did you bring the magic key thingy?”

Essek turns to the balcony too, getting a good look at the telescope too. He had always found it fascinating, but he had barely used it since their mother got him one for one of his early birthdays. He nods, sneaking a hand past the collar of his robes and pulling out the key in a chain around his neck, unclasping it and holding it out. "Do you want to do the honours?" If it was anyone else, Essek would have been the one to walk directly to the telescope, insert the key and bask in what it showed, but Verin was his little brother, and their mother had taught him to share things with him.

While awfully tempting to unlock their family’s secrets himself, Verin shakes his head and reaches out to place his hand over Essek’s. “Why don’t we do it together? It’s both of our family, after all.” He smiles, soft and welcoming, despite the two of them arguing mere minutes earlier.

Essek almost throws a jab at him, the same way how, when they were younger, Essek would lie to him and tell him their mother actually found him in a box, but he realizes the moment is not right for it. Instead, he nods, testing with his fingers where the keyhole was, then moving both of their hands to push the key into it, holding his breath for what may happen.

The air is alight with gentle waves of magic wafting from the arcane torches along the wall. It makes Verin’s eyes water, almost like pollen on the breeze, but he’s able to push past and continue downwards. With each steps, more torches light themselves, and the walls are shown to be painted with intricate murals depicting every umavi of their family, centuries upon centuries before their time. The stairs go on for ages, until finally they pass a painted image of their mother and reach a room, barren with nothing around except for a large door, intricate and ornate as the rest of the estate and triple their height at least.

Essek starts getting that feeling in the back of his head when he saw a grandiose place, and he knew there was not enough time in the world for him to explore it fully, committing to memory as much as he could to write things down in his notebooks later. Seeing the door, Essek approaches carefully, trying to push it open. Even if Verin was thought to be the impulsive one, Essek was always the one pushing the big red button when it came to these types of things.

Verin reaches out to his brother with half the mind to stop him from rushing in so quickly, but he stops himself with a sigh. Essek wouldn’t stop even if he asked him to, so there’s no point in trying. The door, upon Essek’s touch, does not open. Instead, a handful of constellations light up upon its surface, though each is incomplete or incorrect. Verin immediately groans. “Don’t tell me it’s a damn puzzle..”

Verin snorts at the memory, but is looking around with just as much awe. “I always told you there were secrets down here somewhere.” He pays little attention to the bookshelves, for now at least, and instead starts looking at the first armor set he can find, flipping through the book on the lectern in front of it. “Woah.. this armor belonged to our great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, thousands of years ago..”

The tome is entirely in an older, more traditional version of Undercommon, with most of the spells being obsolete nowadays, but a few here and there with actual promise that were forgotten by time. Meanwhile, Verin carefully sets the greatsword back into its case and moves on to look at the next item, a shield inlaid with dozens of gems, most likely used for quick material access for spellcasting. “Are you suggesting I use my position and my faith to interrogate a group of believers?” He hesitates for a brief moment, but sighs. “I suppose there’s no harm in just asking a few questions. Do you know where they’re located or how I might get into contact with them?”

Essek takes time to slot into his mind the ideas of someone that once had the same passions as he does now, though with the tools of their time, fascinated by their work as if it was an old masterpiece. He wondered if this might have been someone's spellbook at some point. "I am suggesting you check on a group of worshippers that do not accept the authority of the Bright Queen." An excuse that would look good on paper. "Last time I contacted them they were established near Byroden in Tal'Dorei. I can show you in a map later."

Verin pauses, thinking for a long moment over whether or not that excuse would work.. the paperwork would be a struggle, but he should be able to swing it. “Hm.. I think I can manage it. Are you wanting to come along, or do you have questions you want me to ask?” He turns away from the wall of relics, facing his brother and the sea of books. “‘Cause if you want to come along, you’d have to tone down the blasphemy. A lot.”

Essek looked quite small next to the sea of knowledge that the archive kept, like when they were children and he would skip dinner because he was in the library and their mother would send Verin to see what Essek was doing. When Verin gives him the warning, though, he smiles like a little devil. "I can behave. But yes, I would like to come along. I would like to make them very technical questions." He hums, shelving the book and picking up another one, about history this time. "Did you know that they have a beacon? I first tried to ask them to reasearch them but they had some very strong words in return."

Verin scoffs with a roll of his eyes, all too used to his brother’s lack of social skills. “They’re not going to be happy to see you again, then. Are you sure you want to come? You might end up pissing them off more than you already have if you come.” He runs his fingers along the spines of the books before smirking and turning a few around so their pages face outwards. Just to piss off Essek. “Not that I don’t want you to come. I just don’t want you getting us into any additional trouble.”

"They never even saw me the first time, they just received a curious message from someone." Essek was going to thumb through the book in his hands, but then he stared in horror as Verin started messing with the books. It was worse than any betrayal or treason. With a gesture of his hand, he pulls the books back out, turns them around and slots them back in facing the way they should. "I will not get us into trouble, I can play nice. I can fool people into thinking I am a believer well enough."

Verin pouts as Essek uses magic to simply put the books back where they belong, shooting him a glare. “That’s not fair..” He grumbles, but stops his rampage and instead uses the bookshelves to lea against. “Can you? Every time the Luxon is brought up, you get this look on your face like you are a lemon. Covered in poison.” He picks out a book at random and starts thumbing through it with little interest. He dog-ears a page that looks mildly intriguing.

Essek just smiles smugly at pissing off his brother, proud of his little trick. He was not going to tell Verin that magic so specific was hard to pull off. "I can be very convincing." He puts on the same puppy eyed face he would do at the Queen when she went on about how disastrous the missing beacons were, or when he wanted to ask their mother for some new expensive device. "I can do it for my little brother, even if it would pain me greatly. Perhaps the anguish will just sell it better. Beside, I like to think of myself more like those colorful mushrooms. Friendly looking and highly poisonous." His face drops to outright disgust when Verin fold the little corner, complete with a sound and everything.

Verin gives Essek an unimpressed look at his puppy-dog eyes, primarily because he remembers how he’d use that look to avoid punishment after sticking Verin to a ceiling or worse. “Friendly looking? You’ve got the worst resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.” He flicks Essek’s forehead and smirks. “But it would be really fun to see you try and pull off being a believer, so I’m in.” He flicks through a few more pages and dog-ears two more before putting it back on the shelf.. in the wrong place. Out of order. It’s hard to tell if he’s doing this on purpose to piss Essek off or if he’s genuinely just.. like this.

"My face is the best resting bitch face." He huffs, shoving past Verin to reorganize the books correctly, by hand this time. He had even forgotten he had been holding one. There was nothing that pissed him off more than a disorganized library. How were people supposed to find information if they had to go through the hurdle of also finding the books they needed. "I know the prayers, I have the paraphernalia. I will do such a good job that you will believe I have actually been a believer all along."

Verin scoffs, purposely elbowing his brother as he shoves past. “With how vehemently you’ve been against the Luxon, I don’t think you could convince of your faith with even the strongest of spells.” He looks at the other titles on the nearly shelf, but shows little interest. He does smile at the idea of putting jam in one, though… just to infuriate his brother and his ancestors.

Essek rubs at where Verin struck, almost going through the motions of casting a spell against him just out of instinct, but the energy fizzles in his hands as he remembers he cannot be doing that anymore. Instead he just throws some curses at Verin that their mother would demand to know where he even learned them from. “Perhaps not you, because you know the truth. Do I have to fool some priest before you believe I can act my part? You forget that I was the Shadowhand sometimes.” He leaves his own book where he found it.

Verin sticks his tongue out at Essek. Childish, as always. “And you say I swear too much..” He starts walking down the aisle of books, eyes scanning the spines for anything relating to poetry or polearms. “I believe you can play the part, I’m just baffled by your willingness to act like a believer, even for your pursuit of knowledge.”

Essek sticks his tongue back at him, a wholly undignified look. "Because you do." He follows Verin, though his scanning being related to subjects like dunamancy or astrology. Who would tell these people from the past how much things have changed? That even the moons in the sky are not what they think? He has a tought to also look for books on divinity, the older the better. "Well, acting is not the same as reality. Besides, false worship is blasphemous, remember?"

“Hypocrite.” Verin throws a centuries-old book at his brother in an archive full of priceless relics and infinite knowledge. “I suppose so, but even false worship can power a god, no?” He spots an old prayer book, funnily enough, and snatches it up, thumbing through it with a half-interested hum. It’s a bit harder to read, given the archaic version of Undercommon, but the words themselves are poignant.

Essek barely catches it with a mage hand, flinching back as he does. "Verin! I am telling mother you are disrespecting the den's heirlooms when she comes back." He was absolutely going to snitch on him. After the mage hand puts the book back, it slaps him on the back of his head before disappearing. Essek, on his part, grabs an old, old tome from the shelf. It was an essay on the gods and, as he pages through it, he counts just how many the writing mentions. "If it did, the Betrayers would just make farms of false worship. To my knowledge, only Asmodeus does that sometimes." Essek had zero qualms when talking about it, as if they could not smite him where he stood.

“Wha—hey, that’s not fair! I’m telling mother you’re swearing up a storm in the den archives, thus disrespecting the family name.” Verin retorts, crossing his arms defiantly, but the slap to his head has him whining. He rub the back of his head and grumbles, glaring at Essek with all the rage he can muster. Which isn’t much. It’s hard to get him truly angry.

"Is she going to believe that her proper, well behaved son would do something like that? I do not even know any curses, Verin." He smirks knowing full well he could sway their mother's punishment. Even if he denied it, he acted like he was her favourite. After not finding what he was searching for, he leaves the book once more, stepping back to take in just how much knowledge had been stored under their house all this time. "Knowing I only had one lifetime mother could have let me into her secret sooner..."

Verin glares daggers at his brother. “And you say you’re not the favorite child.” He shoves Essek into the bookshelf, toppling a few books in the process. He wanders further, mainly just walking around to keep from staying in one place. He hates standing still. “Maybe the whole point was to convince you to consecute yourself by showing you all this stuff.” He gestures vaguely around the place while walking backwards, but stops abruptly when he nears the center contraption. He clutches his chest and a hiss, as if having a heart attack, and quickly scrambles away from the thing.

Essek lets out a noise of frustration, having to control all self control he had to not blast Verin across the room. It was not fair that he couldn’t use his own abilities against him while Verin could just shove him around. When they get his magic aversion resolve he was going to pin him to the ground for hours. “I would sooner die a painful death and be tortured for all of eternity that ever become consecuted.” He sughs and, even through his frustration, goes grab his brother to drag him away. “You need to be more careful, you cannot die in such a stupid way.”

Verin scoffs at his brother’s chiding, but his focus is on the device in the center of the room. His expression is one of both confusion and haunting familiarity. He stares, not speaking, for a whole minute before he turns and starts walking back towards the exit. “Well should leave.” He says sternly, posture rigid and strangely guarded as if readying for battle. “You saw everything you wanted, right? There’s no need to loiter.”

Essek frowns at Verin’s sudden change of demeanour, looking between him and the device. If it was anything else, it may not have been weird to see that look of recognition from his brother, but this was a magic artifact, not a weapon or armour. So, he estands his ground. He felt like his brother didn’t want him to continue looking around. “Verin, what is in the device?” It was phrased as a question, but he was telling Verin to tell him, not giving him room to not do so.

Verin shakes his head and does not stop walking. If anything, his pace speeds up minutely. “I don’t know, but..” He rubs at his chest. He can feel it tightening and bile creeping up his throat. “Something feels wrong. We should leave. Ask mother about what the hell is down here or something, but we should be anywhere but here.”

Essek hangs back, crossing over his chest, thinking if what he should do. He knew he should follow Verin out and ask their mother later about it, but he was a fool, and too curious for his own good. He does not miss the feeling as the hair at the back of his neck stands up, as if he is going to make a big mistake. “I am staying. I need to see this.”

Vern finally stops in his tracks, whirling around to face Essek with a look of both frustration and worry. “Essek, no.” He takes a few steps towards his brother, even when everything in him is screaming at him to run. “Don’t be an idiot, not when I know you know better.” He extends a hand towards his brother, almost pleading. “I will drag you out if I have to.”

"Do not get closer, you will get hurt." Essek doesn't move though, staring at the device, his expression twitching as if he was deciding what to do. Even after what he had done and learned, he could not resist that pull that knowledge had on him. "What if this could help you? What if you could come out of here cured?" Verin had seen the slightly manic look in his brother's eyes, the type where his mind was quickly spiraling down into unwise decisions and obsessing over finding answers. "I just need ten minutes, to know what it does. And then we can leave." Unless he found out it was something really interesting.

Verin shakes his head and disobeys Essek’s command, stepping closer. He can’t let his brother do this. “No. We can’t afford what-ifs, Essek. You can’t afford them. You are a father now, remember? You can’t be reckless like this, not when you have a family that relies on you.” He walks closer until he can reach Essek, grabbing his wrist. “We can’t always come back, but we should know what we’re getting into first.”

Essek looks down at where Verin has grabbed his wrist, almost offended that he didn't seem to listen to what he was saying. Then, he looks back at Verin, stern, but not pulling away. "My life has been what-ifs since I was born until this moment. Every day I go to rest thinking about what if your Queen decided to retire my pardon, or a volstrucker managed to hunt me down, or I would wake up to a message that you had been killed for something I did not manage to fix quick enough." There was something strong beneath the last scenario, an 'again' that he didn't say outloud. "Would our mother hide anything truly dangerous under the house where her two new soul children live?"

Verin’s grip only tightens on Essek’s wrist, his desperation growing. “But this is a needless risk, Essek, one that you can’t be taking now that you have a child!” He argues, tugging on Essek’s wrist in hopes of coaxing him away. “Maybe, I don’t know. That machine is encasing it, so maybe it’s not dangerous now, but fucking around with it and opening it up probably isn’t a good idea.”

Essek's eyes soften ever so slightly at Verin's desperation, and his words. He knew if something happened to him, Liliana would be in good hands, so he did not worry about her in that sense. And he was not scared of his brother mourning him, it would happen sooner or later, he was afraid that he would get angry at him. But the strong dunamantic energy and his brother's recognition of it did not sit well in him. He lowers his head a little and, just as it looks that he is going to give up on it, he weaves his fingers in the direction of the device to cast Locate Object, one of the most rudimentary spells in his book. The chance was very slim, but he was testing if the device held a Beacon in it.

Verin is quick to catch his brother, grabbing both his arms to steady him. Essek’s words have his eyes wide and he can’t speak for a moment, then shakes his head. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?” He looks between Essek and the contraption. His mind is made up, and he starts dragging Essek towards the exit. “Nope, nope, nope—we need answers before we go anywhere near it.”

Essek doesn't put up a fight anymore, following Verin with the uncharacteristic sound of steps following his movement. His raises his hand towards his mouth as his mind tries to make sense of it, nibbling at the knuckles of his finger until he draws blood. "We cannot tell anyone that it's here." Did the Queen know? Or their mother? Was that what the volstruckers were actually after? When did their family even acquired it? There were so many questions that were too dangerous to ask. "We need to make it untraceable. We need--lead, a lead casing." It was like finding a bomb underneath their childhood home.

Verin gets Essek outside the room and shuts the huge door with a loud bang, then returns to his brother’s side. “Essek, hey, hey—“ He gently pulls Essek’s hands from his face, using his cape to dab away the blood. “Shh, hold on, it’s okay.” He might not feel too confident himself, but looking at Essek, he knows he needs to be strong for him. “It’s been down here and the house has been fine, right? Let’s just settle down and we’ll talk to mother and figure it out.”

Essek hisses as he sees the blood, not having noticed he had bitten down so far. It was impossible to know which of his concerns he should voice first, but as Verin mentions their mother, he shakes his head. "No, we cannot tell mother. Not now. She is still sick. If she says anything it could be catastrophic." He pushes down all the anger that was beginning to boil inside of him. They had a beacon under their house all this time. "Mother has been keeping a beacon from the Queen. If she caused a war for two missing for a few months, the hells would tremble if she found out her best friend had hidden one from her." Essek passes a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. There were little times in his life where he had felt so in danger. "We have to be cautious. And quick. I doubt those volstruckers were meant to cause a distraction now."

Verin searches through the pouch he keeps around his waist, usually for battle emergencies, and pulls out a small healing potion. He pours it over Essek’s bite wounds to heal them. “Why are you so sure the Queen doesn’t know? I mean.. mother told the Queen everything. Even all our embarrassing childhood bullshit!” He tries to lighten the mood. It doesn’t quite work. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all this! In fact..” He glances back at the archive they just exited. “Maybe there’s something in there that tells us why it’s there?” He looks at his brother again and frowns. “Later, though. We need a break.”

Essek thinks about pulling away when Verin goes to use a whole healing potion on him for just a bite, but he doesn't want to add more worries to his brother. So he just lets him, watching the wounds close and prestidigitating away any remnants of it once the effect is over. He hated the feeling of it on his skin. "Maybe she knows, but it doesn't make sense. I have never seen any records of it." He almost goes on to bite at his finger again, but catches himself and instead runs his hand across the embroidery of his robe. But he nods. They needed to look into it further. "Let's have a break, then. But we need to figure this out."

Verin nods, hooking his arm through his brother’s for stability before starting to make his way back up the long, winding staircase. “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this, no need to worry.” He assures, but the words sound hollow even to him. When they eventually reach the top again, Verin sits Essek down on their mother’s bed and sends his echo out to get them some water. “I still think we should talk to mother, though. She’ll know better than anyone what’s going on.”

Essek allows Verin to guide him, decorum being the only thing keeping him from flopping on the bed. There were very few times where he had slept in their mother's bed as a child, but it was still as comfortable as he remembered. "I... Guess we can ask her. If it goes wrong there are ways to fix it." He pats the spot at his side for Verin to sit with him. He felt guilty that Verin had been stepping up to console him so many times lately, as if he was a child that could not control himself.

Verin checks over Essek one more time, smoothing his hair back from his eyes, before taking a seat with a sigh. There’s a lot to process from just this one day alone. “Mother is strong, remember? She can handle a few questions. It either that or we go back down there and look for answers ourselves.” Verin, unlike Essek, has little to no decorum and flops back into the bed like a marionette with its strings cut.

Essek doesn't follow, but he does pull his legs under himself so he can turn to face Verin. "I know she is. She is honestly the only one I am not worried about." He sighs, pulling back his hair as if in a ponytail and, as he presses his hand to it. Even without a ribbon, the hair stays as he lets go. "I overreacted, I fear. But what worries me is the political implications of it. Either the Queen does not know, or she knows and for some reason does not keep a record of it." He props his chin on his hand, looking around the room. "I would like to go back down, but I also do not wish for it to hurt you. It may just be contained there, yes. But what if it is a device to amplify its effect? It could hurt you." As he thinks about it, he lets out a small nervous laugh. "I would not wish to explain mother how her son died because we were snooping around."

Verin watches Essek put his hair up and wishes, not for the first time, that he could use magic. Without having to learn it, of course. He finds magic lessons terribly boring. “Our den has been good friends with her majesty for centuries.. it’s unlikely they’ve kept this a secret from her. Not impossible, sure, but I wouldn’t freak out just yet.” He reaches up to boop Essek’s nose, as if that will assuage his fears. “You.. have a point. We could just try and find information first, like a manual or record or something.” He drags a hand down his face, which scrunches up in thought. “Don’t libraries usually have some sort of record of everything inside them? I guess in our case it’s more like a museum, but still.”

Essek raises an eyebrow at the boop, raising his hand confused as to why his brother was like that. "Maybe, but then it raises another question as to why the Queen would hide it from anyone else." He smoothes out his robes, making sure they were properly tucked inside of his hip wrap. "Most of them do, yes. The good ones do at least. I could try locating some kind of ledger, but without knowing the specifics of the object it would be kind of hard."

Verin shrugs and turns to flop on his stomach instead. “Well.. we did have one beacon stolen.” He gives his brother a look. “So hiding another one somewhere no one knows about would be a good idea.” He nudges his brother’s knee with the cold, armored boot. “You do know you don’t have to use magic for everything, right? We can just.. look. With our eyes. If the ledger holds information for the entire archive, then it’s bound to be out somewhere so it can be edited frequently.”

Essek puff out his chest at Verin's little jab. While he regretted the consequences that his actions had, if things had turned out different, he would be inmensely proud of the heist itself. "And look at how that turned out." He pushes Verin's foot away, towards the edge of the bed, even if he could not do much against Verin's muscular and armored leg. "The ledger for the Cobalt Soul is so hidden it gets lost sometimes. Magic just makes things easier." He pauses. "Also, I like it."

Verin rolls his eyes, but stops kicking his brother, at least. For now. “There’s nothing wrong with liking magic, but you can’t always rely on it.” He remembers all the times in battle he’s fought spellcasters who relied so heavily on magic they didn’t know what to do when a physical battle came along. He knows his brother is smarter and more skilled than that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry. “Do you want to look for the ledger now, or do you need a break?”

"Not all of us were blessed with bodies that will not snap at the lightest forms of physical activity. Besides, you are only obsessed with it because it is your line of work, I could say the same to you about learning magic." Essek scoffs, not bothered at all that his little brother grew up to be broader and taller than him while he could get a sprained ankle just by walking down stairs. Not at all bothered. "Let's go look for it before mother gets back. I have barely spent any of my energy today anyway." He stands from the bed, putting his boots back on and recasting his floating cantrip.

Verin slinks off of the bed and stretches, fixing his hair real quick before starting to head back towards the balcony. “Come on then, dalninuk, the night is young!” He forces cheer to make the situation seem less, well.. dire. Surely, if he’s optimistic enough, things will turn out fine. Surely. “I only have a few hours before I’m needed back in Bazzoxan, so let’s hope this doesn’t take too long.” He starts hopping down the stairs three at a time.

Essek chuckles at that, shaking his head as he floats down the stairs behind him. "Do not say that, now it will surely take long." While they descend, he pulls out his spellbook once more, flipping through a few pages as he checked some things. He almost bumps into Verin at some point, his habit of forgetting to look forward having not died down, it seems. "If it is a beacon down there, once we fix what is wrong with your magic aversion, we could get you consecuted again." Consecution didn't work like that, he knew, but the believers seemed to think the theatrics were necessary.

When Verin feels Essek bump into his back, he’s quick to shoot a glare behind him and flip him off.. as a warning, of course. If it happens again, he’s going to throw his brother down the stairs, magic be damned. But the mention of being consecuted once more is enough to perk him right back up, eyes brightening. “You really think so? Do you know how to consecute people?” He asks excitedly, but it fades just as quickly as he shakes his head. “Nono, being consecuted without the Queen’s blessing goes against the Luxon’s teachings and Dynasty law. But it’s a nice thought.”

Essek had not even noticed his brother's response with his head burried in his book, just muttered something that might have been an apology. Might have. "I do, it is one of the rituals available through Dunamancy, though less flashy." He only pays attention to where he was when they reached the door once more, starting to open it again. "If it is the Luxon that allows consecution, wouldn't their acceptance of it override the Bright Queen's jurisdiction?" It was those types of questions that would get him in trouble as a kid, those times being some of the only ones their mother would get actually mad at him.

As they step back into the archive, Verin takes a deep breath and rests his hand on the hilt of his backup shortsword. It’s not his usual glaive or polearm, but it’ll do in an emergency. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it. “If I was to operate outside of her majesty’s guidance, I fear the Luxon would reject my consecution entirely. Even if it did work, it would be against the law and against my honor code as a knight of the Aurora Watch.”

Essek scrunches his nose, as if Verin's strict beliefs were rarer than a two eyed beholder. "I will never understand you holy people." If he was in Verin's situation, he would just seize the opportunity and override whatever the Bright Queen said. She was just a woman that said she spoke for a god. As they make their way inside, Essek dips a hand into one of his pockets then rubs his eyelids with something, casting True Sight on himself. It looks like his irises became slightly translucent, which was admittedly a bit creepy, but as the spell takes effect he looks around to see if they had missed anything.

"Ah, there we go." Essek heads straight for it, passing right next to the device as if unconsciously flaunting that he could. He looks around as he approaches, taking in anything that might peak his interest. Once he is right in front of it, he leans in to discern if it was what they were searching for, grabbing the edges of his waist wrap to keep himself from reaching out to it. For now.

Verin shoots his brother a glare, not that the other can see it, when he walks next to the device. Verin gives the contraption a wide berth, but even then he still shudders at the wave of dizziness that washes over him. He manages to pass without further issue, though, and walks as far away as he can. When they reach the book, Verin peaks over Essek’s shoulder to read. The pages are filled with lists of books and relics and a brief description of each item.. and the words glint faintly with magic. When touched, a magic image of the item would appear.

Essek starts flipping through the book, learning that the images pop up the hard way by touching one accidentally and getting spooked ever so lightly. From then on he just hovers his hand over the page to keep track of where he was on the list, almost like an Aeormaton with how mechanical he was being. Not that Verin had met one, most likely. He will only come to a stop once he finds it or he is done with the whole book.

Verin bites back a snort at seeing Essek spooked, but besties that is quiet as he watches his brother. The book is thick, filled to the brim with item and item, and Verin struggles to pay attention.. he’s never been good at sitting still and waiting. But eventually, the title ‘Beacon Container’ is found, accompanied by the image of the contraption. But unlike the other relics on the list, there is very little detail other than the date acquired — centuries ago by now — and a note that reads: ‘Keep hidden and mention to no one, on command of her majesty. The people cannot know.’

Essek lets out a sigh at that, looking over the image. “Well, at least there is that.” He scoffs, infinitely annoyed by the Dynasty’s obsession of being as cague as possible. He understood not telling anyone, but even in their ledger, really? “So, no mentions as to why this is here aside from keeping it a secret. It does not mention to be anything other than a container, though, so maybe I could take a look.”

Verin grimaces and crosses his arms, still quite hesitant. “I still don’t think messing with it is a good idea, not when we still know so little.” He chews on his bottom lip in thought. “Maybe it’s best if we ask mother about it first?”

Essek has not noticed Verin's hesitance, his mind focused forwards in time. "Mother will still take some time to come back, one look can't hurt." He looks back at the machine. "Besides, we do not know how to even open it. We can look into that. Or I can, you can be around in case something happens."

Verin sighs, clearly still not on board, but resigned to the fact that he can’t persuade Essek once his mind is set on something. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chews at his bottom lip nervously, torn between what his instincts are teling him and what his brother wants.

"It will be fine, just do not stand too close." Essek heads towards the device, intent on checking the runes that surrounded it once more. Now that he knew it was meant to be some kind of storage device, he was trying to gauge if any of the runes in it seemed out of place for its function. He knew it was probably activated by the lever that came out from it, but he wanted first to make sure there wasn't anything amiss in how it worked.

With Identify cast, the runes shine crimson for a brief moment, as if warning against further inspection, before the answers come to Essek in a rush. This device is not only meant to hide the Beacon from those seeking to steal it, but to contain the dangerous and unstable power within. The stray rune implies that the Beacon it holds is, in some way, defective and malfunctioning.

Essek groans, mumbling to himself as he straightens up. He jots the new discoveries down, walking back to Verin as he does. Whatever he found, he resigned himself to not continue his research. "That is enough. Let's go ask mother, hopefully that will clear some things up. I do not have the energies to spend to find out more today." He closes his tome and throws his book up, letting it dissapear.

Verin visibly relaxes the second Essek turns away from the device. “Yes, let’s.” He says, clearly relieved that they’re not conducting experiments of any kind. He’s not sure what he would’ve, or could’ve really, done if Essek ended up hurting himself in the process. He’s already walking towards the exit before Essek can reach him.

Essek glides behind him, accelerating his pace a bit to catch up to him. If Verin looked, he would see that his brother was concentrated on something, biting just very lightly at his bottom lip. Enough that Verin could tell with the years of experience of knowing him, but not enough that anyone else could. He was running through the possibilities of why a corrupted beacon was under their house, and what it meant. He had already heard of something similar from the Bright Queen, a beacon corrupted by the Spider Queen. Maybe it was something like that. Instead, he voices a much lighter thought. "Does my floating cantrip make you sick when I am near you?"

Verin watches his brother closely in silence as they head towards the exit, simultaneously trying to figure out what’s going on in that mind of his and making sure the other is alright. Beacons are a sensitive subject for them both, after all. But Essek’s question catches him off guard, and he blinks dumbly for a few seconds before replying. “Your.. floating cantrip? No, not really. I feel a bit of pressure in my chest when you first cast it or if you get too close, but nothing crazy.”

Essek nods, as if he was writing it down in the library that was his mind. As they come out of the archive, he is the one to close the door to it. With his hands, not magic. He goes before Verin up the stairs, hands neatly tucked beneath his cloak. "Maybe you are just used to it. What do you think is afflicting you?" This was probably the first time Essek had asked about his theories on it and not about what happened. Maybe he was just exploring another avenue to find out what was happening, or maybe it related to what he had been pondering.

Verin looks at Essek funny when he closes the door by hand, confused as to why his brother, who relies on magic for just about everything from the mundane to the grand, would deign to close a heavy door by himself. He’s even more confused when Essek asks for his opinion oh his illness — in his mind, Verin isn’t skilled enough to try and theorize. “I.. don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about the specifics, more just about how to live with it. I sort of went past the understanding it and straight to the living with it.”

"That is understandable. You would wish to know how to navigate your life with it if you did not know how to get better." Essek doesn't say it with malice, just as an observation. "But I still think your opinion would be valuable, even if it is just a guess. Even if it ends up being something else. So, what do you think?" Once they are back outside, he waits for Verin by the telescope, giving it a spare glance with a tilt of his head.

Once they reach the balcony again, Verin hops up onto the railing and swings his legs over, gazing at the twinkling stars as if they may hold the answers he seeks. “A guess..” His face scrunches up in thought. “Maybe I interacted with some cursed artifact while on assignment and didn’t know it?”

Essek reaches out towards him, but quickly lets his hand drop with a huff when he realizes Verin is just sitting down. He had always been a bit anxious about his brother's recklessness, but being a father now had made him even more. He was going to turn greyer. "That is a good theory. An artifact powerful enough can work undetected. The Nein told me that Veth carried a cursed blade without them knowing for a while." He twists the key back out of the telescope, leaning on the railing next to Verin. "But even the most powerful artifacts can be dispelled. We will figure it out."

Verin sighs, looking up towards the beautiful night sky, eyes tracing the different constellations. “I know. I trust you to be able to figure it out. If anyone can solve this mystery of mine, it’s you.” He glances back at his brother with a small smile as he swings his legs back and forth like an overeager child.

Essek scoffs, straightening up as if he was insulted by the mere implication that he could not. But Verin knew better. Essek was flattered by it, raising his head proudly. "It is very hard to remain humble if you speak of me that way." He looks up at the stars, seeing in then less the mythical aspect of them and more the mathematics and physics he had found himself attracted to. He could fix Verin's problem, he just needed a stroke of inspiration.

Verin rolls his eyes, but the fond curl of his lips gives away his lack of true annoyance. “It’s not that hard, you’re just an egoist.” He elbows Essek, lightly this time, just to scold. He takes a moment to admire the sky a bit longer before swinging his legs back over the rail and hopping down. “Well, I should probably get going. I can’t be away from Bazzoxan too long, and I’d say my curiosities are satiated for the time being.”

“And you used to call me addicted to my work.” Essek returns the elbowing, much less effectively. He understood that there were differences between their labour, and that Verin’s was urgent and more immediately necessary, but they both were. Probably a side effect of their upbringing. “Alright, I will let you go to them. Do you wish me to wait formyou to ask mother about the beacon?”

Verin scoffs, already heading off the balcony. “Yes, well, we’re both workaholics, admittedly.” The two of them really could use a vacation. Or three, really, to catch up on all the time they’ve spent working their lives away. “No, you can go ahead. I trust you to relay the information. Besides, Mother is more likely to be honest with you than me.”

Essek follows to see him off as he always did before Verin returned to his station. He never missed the chance to say goodbye to him. "I am not a workaholic, I also knit sometimes." He had began to do that recently, a suggestion that had a high chance of coming from Caduceus. "I will continue with it, then. But do not doubt mother, though. She would answer if you asked too."

Verin scoffs as the two walk through the estate, avoiding the few sections still under repair. “Oh, yes, because knitting makes up for the dozens of hours straight you spend hunched over your spellbook like a shrimp.” The brothers soon reach the front door to the estate, which Verin exits out of before stopping by the small stable where the Den’s mounts are kept and retrieving his jet black mare. “Yes, I’m sure she would, but she more likely to give you more details than me.”

"It does. Instead I am bent for hours over a strand of yarn and some needles." Essek was not making it to 300 with a straight back, it seemed. Essek waves at Verin's horse, once more keeping his distance from it as he did. "That may be true. I will ask her, then relay anything important to you. Let's hope she decides to not be too difficult."

Verin shakes his head and slaps his brother on this back. “You’re going to need some posture correction before you’re 280, I swear..” Verin carefully strokes the mane of is beloved mare before starting to ready her for travel, putting on her saddle and reins. “Please, when has Mother ever made anything easy for us? I wish you luck.”

Essek straightens up out of instinct, the act not too different from when their mother would push on his back when he was slouching while reading. "If I make it to 280 I will consider it a victory." He watches his brother with no interest. Essek had only traveled by horse a couple of times and they had all been disastrous. "Oh, absolutely never. It is nice to dream, though."

With his horse now prepared, Verin turns to his brother and pulls him into a quick but crushing hug. When he pulls away, it’s with his usual beaming smile. “Well, I hope she’s not too difficult this time. Let me know if you need any help, okay?” He squeezes Essek’s shoulder encouragingly, then turns away and mounts the black mare with ease.

Essek lets out a very undignified noise at being crushed, the surprise and strength absolutely throwing him off. When Verin lets go, he huffs, fixing his hair and robes. "Yes, let's hope she does. I will contact you if needed, or if there are any new revelations." He crosses his arms over his chest, always a bit uneasy to see his brother depart. "Do not die, alright?"

Verin nods with a determined grin and gives Essek a quick salute. “It takes a lot more than a few demons to take me down.” The cockiness runs in the family, it seems. “I’ll see you soon, dalninuk. Until then, try not to get into any trouble.” He waves to Essek one last time before grasping the reins and galloping off down the street.

Verin’s gaze only blurs for a moment at the magic, smiling at the sound of his brother’s voice. He hurries over to the tree, his brow furrowing in concern at seeing Essek up in the tree. “Hey! Be careful up there!” He warns, but he’s grinning ear to ear the moment he realizes what Essek is doing. He can still find his name on the tree among their hundreds of ancestors. “Is little Lilliana with you?”

"I am careful!" Essek looks down at him with his hands on his hips, offended that Verin would suggest otherwise. Though it is short lived as he turns back to the name scribbled with magic on the bark, frustrated that he was not getting the results he wanted. This was usually done by an Umavi, and close to the name of the persons parents, but he was being a show-off. "Not with me, no. But she is with the servants inside. They are acting like they have never seen a baby in their lives." To be fair, Verin was the last child to come directly from the main line of den Thelyss, so it has been a hundred years since they last had one in the den.

Verin rolls his eyes at his brother’s attitude, but he can’t hide the fond smile that still creeps onto his face regardless. Rather than wait for Essek to finish. Verin grabs a branch and starts climbing up himself. Nostalgia washes over him, remembering well when he’d climb this tree over and over as a kid. Once he reaches the closest sturdy branch to Essek, he sits down and takes a look at Essek’s handiwork. “What’re you still working on? The engraving looks fine.” He runs his fingers over his and Essek’s old engraving, their mother’s calligraphy immaculate.

Essek looks at him as he climbs. As children, he would never be the one in the tree, he would be below yelling at Verin to climb down before he fell and hurt himself. The only time he did manage to climb a bit ended up with a sprained ankle and a request to their mother to buy him the scroll for Feather fall. He then huffs, tapping the engraving tool against his boot. "It's not...It is lacking something and I do not know what." Ah, Essek, ever the perfectionist.

The climb is considerably more difficult when wearing a suit of armor, but thankfully he’s trained enough now to handle the extra weight. He’s not sure if the branch with handle him for long, but.. it’s fine for now. Hopefully. He looks back over at Essek’s engraving and hums thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it’s ’cause Lilliana-Namid is different from the others on the tree. She’s not only a Dynasty child, but a Zemnian one too. It needs something.. Caleb-y. Maybe. I dunno.”

While it was incredibly impressive that Verin could haul his and his armour's weigh while climbing, Essek, being his brother, can't help but think he looks like a toddler climbing stairs bigger than him. He bites that down, though. "Do not fall. If you fall I cannot help you." Essek thinks hard on Verin's words, on what Caleb like could mean. Cats, obviously, but he was not going to add doodles to their den's tree as if he was a kid. Maybe he could add some zemniam framing around the name. He waves his hand, the illusion spreading into decorative designs of plants and flowers around it, things he has seen in the cover of Caleb's children's stories, but he doesn't seem to convince. "Perhaps... I could cast a spell on it so that it replays something when touched."

“I’m not gonna fall! Even if I do, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far of a drop.” Verin leans against the trunk of the tree, watching Essek work his magic, literally, much like he would when they were kids. “What would you replay, though? Some memory of Lilliana and Caleb? That would definitely be unique.. it won’t hurt the tree though, right?”

"If I have to tell mother that you fell from the tree again she is going to ask if we are back to being children." He seemed amused by the idea. He had always taken every chance to prove to their mother that they were, in fact, their children and not some souls she had given a body to. "It will not hurt it, no. It is just like a sticker of sorts, something that could be taken off it needed. A memory sounds nice, or perhaps a message. I could also leave the instruction for spells Caleb and I have built together so she will find them when she is older. So many options..." Essek's eyes move as he stares at the name, searching what he could condense in a single moment that will be remembered by anyone who touches the tree.

Verin rolls his eyes, but smiles all the same at the mental image of their mother, disappointed and bemused all at once, hearing about her sons’ chaos. He reaches up to run his fingers over Lilliana-Namid’s newly engraved name, humming in thought. “Well, what if you make it a memory of you and Caleb reading to Namid? That way she can hear both your voices again even after you’re gone.” His smile turns bittersweet. “And she’ll have a bedtime story from her dads that she can play for her children and her children’s children, for generations to come.”

Essek thinks about it. Namid, if she ever became consecuted, would be an outlier within their den, with her parents not being so. Verin and Essek temporarily lost their mother, and even then that was strange, but they grew up with the assurance that she would always be there. He doubted that even if consecution was offered to Caleb that he would accept it, so leaving something to her to remember them by was not such a bad idea. That and he loved the idea of engraving into their tree the fact that a human from the Empire made it into their family, a poke at their rigid ideals of what the den should be. "That sounds lovely, Verin." He nods, resolute in it, and floats the set of tools laying on the ground towards him so he can store the one he had been using. "I will tell Caleb, then. He has a better hand for these things than I do. Did I ever tell you his tower is full of books her remembers even though he has only read them once?"

Verin grins ear-to-ear when Essek praises his idea, always happy to help in any way he can. Though he is tempted to smack to toolkit out of the air when Essek floats it up.. he’s still his little brother, after all, but he decides against it and behaves. This time. “I can’t imagine ever reading enough books to fill a whole tower, especially not in a short lifespan like his was.. nerd.” He sighs, as if disappointed in his future brother-in-law for being so much like his brother. Verin was hoping for someone he could spar with, but if Caleb was limited to melee weapons only, Verin fears he’d ana the poor man in half. “Do you need any help getting down?”

Essek raises his chin as he did when he was proud of something. "He is a very diligent and studious man, I am sure he will do great things with the added time he will have now." Essek tucks the kit under his arm, a little clumsily getting his legs out from under him. "Hm, no." He grins and then just drops from the branch. Though, of course, no harm comes to him as he just floats down. Nothing else could be expected from the man that defied gravity daily.

Verin rolls his eyes, used to his brother’s pride but no more pleased with it. He follows Essek down, taking much longer to actually climb, of course, and lands next to him with a thump. “Well, now what? Are we finally going to take a look at whatever’s going on with mother’s telescope?” He reaches over to Essek to pick a leaf out of his hair, snickering at the sight of his high-and-mighty brother with leaves in his hair like an overgrown squirrel.

Essek looks at the leaf as if it had offended his whole family, passing a hand through his hair in case there were any other intruders in it with a huff. "Yes, finally. Curiosity has been eating me, let's go before I am fully devoured." He starts heading back to the house, matching Verin's speed. "Mother is having tea with Leylas, so we should have a few hours for ourselves."

Verin grazes his fingertips over the blossoms of the tallest flowers as they walk, gaze flitting between every beautiful gift of nature present in the garden. Growing up in the estate, the gardens were always his favorite part. He’d spend most of his childhood training, but when he wasn’t training or sleeping he was out here, playing make believe and getting caked in mud. “Tea with her majesty? Is the Queen feeling better?”

Essek seems content with merely looking around, taking his surroundings in like he had done since he was a child. Their mother used to joke that he stared at things so much he might need glasses. Which, he did, and never wore them, but he was not going to tell her that. "She is, from what I know she had returned to her duties fully already. In truth, the ritual for curing Typhros only exhausts individuals for a few days, though I guess getting reacquaintanced with ones soul must be a strange process. I think mother wants to ask her about it to be prepared."

Verin nods, focus returning to his brother as they enter the estate. “I see.. I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant experience. Are you sure it has no adverse effects?” He climbs the servant stairs, the main staircase still under construction, but doesn’t have to step over any gaps this time on the way to their mother’s room. “How do you know it won’t hurt Mother? I know I have no place to ask when you’re the expert, but.. you know. We just got her back.”

Essek follows, floating up the stairs with ease. There were still things that needed to be replaced or fixed, specially the paintings. "It should not hurt her, no. I had my doubts when working on Leylas, since it would be the first time I tried it, but it has proven to be harmless." He thinks on how to explain it, rubbing his chin as he worked on simplifying it. "Think of a soul as a pearl necklace. When consecution ocurs there is a period of time during a new life where pearls are added to it, but they are different sizes and of different origins. Add to that that passing through a beacon alters the structure of the necklace, twisting it and corrupting it, and you just have a tangled mess. The process of the cure is about untangling it. Nothing is getting removed or altered, just rearranged." As he speaks, he projects in his hand a simulation of what a soul looks like. It was almost like an atom, if Verin knew what that was. Essek had said many times that the reason why he refused consecution was because it messed with the soul, aside from any other heretic stuff, so perhaps this is what he meant.

Verin still looks… lost, but he does seem fascinated by the the projection. “Huh.. well, if that’s the case, then how long does your cure ‘untangle’ a soul? Could her majesty and mother develop Typhros again?” He asks as he pulls out a rings of keys to unlock and open the door to their mother’s room, still kept as clean and tidy as possible while still keeping most people out. “Do you have the steps of the cure written down, even? So that people can recreate it and cure more on a wider scale?”

Essek lets out a little hum as he thinks, probably running calculations in his head. "A few lifetimes, I would think, though there has never been anything like this so it is hard to say. Typhros is years worth of this tangling. Perhaps it would take the same time, perhaps less, or it may be individual to each person. But it will reocurr, it is a flaw native to consecution. The whole process, from a soul's standpoint, is barbaric. It is incredible it does not cause more issues. It is hard to research, though, since the whole process is full of secrecy." He was probably exaggerating, being talking freely like the heretic he was, but he seemed convinced on his phrasing, and his knowledge. Unaware of the effect his words may have, he glides into the room, looking for their mothers telescope. "No, I have not written it down, nor will I until my pardon is permanent and the Queen realizes her way of handling the research of Dunamancy is foolish. Without my title it is the only thing I can hold against her. But even if I wrote it down it would be hard to find other people able to perform it."

Verin grimaces at his brother’s.. harsh interpretation of consecution, but decides not to argue about it this time. They have bigger things to worry about, and he knows he won’t be able to change Essek’s mind anymore than Essek would be able to change his. “You don’t have it written down anywhere? But what if, Light forbid, something should happen to you? Your research would be lost forever! Don’t you want Typhros to continue to be cured beyond just what benefits you?”

Essek huffs, as if he couldn't fathom why Verin would be so worried about it. "I have my notes, maybe Caleb would be able to use them if something happened to me. If he could even retrieve them." Essek snuffs the illusion he had been playing with, his next words angry, but not at Verin. "The cure for Typhros was not discovered because I am some incredible unseen prodigy or because I was chosen by your god, it would have been discovered much sooner if the Queen had not kept the beacons for herself so greedily. Imagine what arcanists would have been able to do already if they had been given access to one, ever. If I were to die and my notes were lost, a new cure would be discovered in weeks if she just let people actually work." When Essek was not burying himself in his work, he was playing a complex game of politics. In this case, he was poking at Leylas pride by keeping the cure for himself. If she wanted to come after him, she would have to liberate the knowledge of the beacons to more people. If she wanted to keep him working, she would have to give him access to it.

Verin’s face scrunches up in the way it often does when he and his brother argue morals or ethics. “But what about all the people who will die while you play the long game? Hundreds could be cured, if not thousands, if you shared your knowledge. You could teach others to replicate it, or help some personally! Do you not think it cruel to withhold such a cure from our people?” He argues back, voice soft but urgent. Politics mean very little to him beyond what he must indulge in for his job, and he’s always had issue with politics interrupting true progress. In a way, that makes him very alike to his brother. The same idea, just with different approaches.

"And what good would it do for people to have instructions for a cure they cannot replicate without a beacon? To watch their loved ones suffer knowing they could be cured if their Queen stopped amassing some rock she calls a god? Do you really think if that gets out that someone else will not try to steal one?" It was good their mother was not around to listen to him. He was bothered, a bit of desperation bleeding out of him as he remembered why he even stole a beacon in the first place. "Besides, Typhros is not fatal. People who have it die only because their Queen orders them too." He knows that well. Their mother did not die peacefully in bed, she died as he drove a dagger into her heart. Unconsciously, he wipes his hands on his robes, as if they were dirty with something. "I have... Studied to create an artificial beacon, if we cannot find one ourselves. But it will not be useful for this."

Verin shoots his brother a sharp warning glare at his calling the beacon a ‘rock’. “Maybe if this knowledge was revealed to the public, her majesty would have no choice but to allow further research, lest it be stolen again. At the very least, it would give the people some hope.” He thinks of all the people he’s had to send home from the field for having Typhros. All the sick he’s condemned to execution for something they cannot control and all the family members he’s had to console. If he could alleviate even a fraction of their pain, he would in an instant, no matter the consequences. Perhaps that makes him foolish. “Typhros may not kill the body, but it kills the mind and the soul. Besides, can you really be considered living if you’ve lost everything that makes you who you are?” He looks affronted by the idea of an artificial beacon, scoffing. “I doubt anything artificial could match the power of a true beacon, though. Pure divinity like that cannot be replicated.”

Essek looks as if he is going to say something, but then closes his mouth considering Verin's words, scrunching his nose as he thinks. Essek was thinking of restricting the cure for now so people wouldn't cause unrest, but maybe that is exactly what he needed. A sharp smile spreads across his face, the type he puts on when a dangerous idea ignites in his head. "Your mind may be fitted for the battlefield, but it is clear why you are not a mere soldier, Verin. I will ask Uraya for help." That was Essek's way of calling him intelligent. Sometimes he got too focused on a single point and needed someone to see it and reel him back. He may know about secrets and magic and spionage, but Verin knew about people, and society, and how any advancements or drawback rippled through the population. Essek does nod at Verin's concern over the mind. "It is a very cruel fate to have your mind tattered indeed. I... Have had my brushes with magics that alter the mind, and it is indeed awful. Thankfully it seems things get much better after it is cured." Essek raises his head proud at Verin's distaste. "Pure divinity was consecuted through an articial beacon in a person's head, I am sure it could handle a mortal." He seemed excited by the idea, his ears peaking up a little. There was so much more about it he could share.

Verin looks like a fish out of water at Essek’s compliment, torn between disbelief and pride. Of all the things Essek praised him for, his intelligence was rarely one of them. He grins at the compliment, but the sharp smile on Essek’s face feels a bit.. off, almost dangerous. He decides to ignore it in favor of basking in the praise, much like he ignores Essek’s heretical talk regardless of how excited he seems over it. He never quite understands Essek’s more theoretical arcane talk, and part of him doesn’t want to. He’s relied on the Luxon for guidance and hope in his darkest moments, and the thought that it might all be a lie is.. unfathomable, unacceptable. He’d rather live with senseless hope than all-consuming despair. Verin brushes past his brother and into the balcony, where he brushes his fingers along the ornate patterns lining their mother’s telescope. “Did you bring the magic key thingy?”

Essek turns to the balcony too, getting a good look at the telescope too. He had always found it fascinating, but he had barely used it since their mother got him one for one of his early birthdays. He nods, sneaking a hand past the collar of his robes and pulling out the key in a chain around his neck, unclasping it and holding it out. "Do you want to do the honours?" If it was anyone else, Essek would have been the one to walk directly to the telescope, insert the key and bask in what it showed, but Verin was his little brother, and their mother had taught him to share things with him.

While awfully tempting to unlock their family’s secrets himself, Verin shakes his head and reaches out to place his hand over Essek’s. “Why don’t we do it together? It’s both of our family, after all.” He smiles, soft and welcoming, despite the two of them arguing mere minutes earlier.

Essek almost throws a jab at him, the same way how, when they were younger, Essek would lie to him and tell him their mother actually found him in a box, but he realizes the moment is not right for it. Instead, he nods, testing with his fingers where the keyhole was, then moving both of their hands to push the key into it, holding his breath for what may happen.

The air is alight with gentle waves of magic wafting from the arcane torches along the wall. It makes Verin’s eyes water, almost like pollen on the breeze, but he’s able to push past and continue downwards. With each steps, more torches light themselves, and the walls are shown to be painted with intricate murals depicting every umavi of their family, centuries upon centuries before their time. The stairs go on for ages, until finally they pass a painted image of their mother and reach a room, barren with nothing around except for a large door, intricate and ornate as the rest of the estate and triple their height at least.

Essek starts getting that feeling in the back of his head when he saw a grandiose place, and he knew there was not enough time in the world for him to explore it fully, committing to memory as much as he could to write things down in his notebooks later. Seeing the door, Essek approaches carefully, trying to push it open. Even if Verin was thought to be the impulsive one, Essek was always the one pushing the big red button when it came to these types of things.

Verin reaches out to his brother with half the mind to stop him from rushing in so quickly, but he stops himself with a sigh. Essek wouldn’t stop even if he asked him to, so there’s no point in trying. The door, upon Essek’s touch, does not open. Instead, a handful of constellations light up upon its surface, though each is incomplete or incorrect. Verin immediately groans. “Don’t tell me it’s a damn puzzle..”

Verin snorts at the memory, but is looking around with just as much awe. “I always told you there were secrets down here somewhere.” He pays little attention to the bookshelves, for now at least, and instead starts looking at the first armor set he can find, flipping through the book on the lectern in front of it. “Woah.. this armor belonged to our great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, thousands of years ago..”

The tome is entirely in an older, more traditional version of Undercommon, with most of the spells being obsolete nowadays, but a few here and there with actual promise that were forgotten by time. Meanwhile, Verin carefully sets the greatsword back into its case and moves on to look at the next item, a shield inlaid with dozens of gems, most likely used for quick material access for spellcasting. “Are you suggesting I use my position and my faith to interrogate a group of believers?” He hesitates for a brief moment, but sighs. “I suppose there’s no harm in just asking a few questions. Do you know where they’re located or how I might get into contact with them?”

Essek takes time to slot into his mind the ideas of someone that once had the same passions as he does now, though with the tools of their time, fascinated by their work as if it was an old masterpiece. He wondered if this might have been someone's spellbook at some point. "I am suggesting you check on a group of worshippers that do not accept the authority of the Bright Queen." An excuse that would look good on paper. "Last time I contacted them they were established near Byroden in Tal'Dorei. I can show you in a map later."

Verin pauses, thinking for a long moment over whether or not that excuse would work.. the paperwork would be a struggle, but he should be able to swing it. “Hm.. I think I can manage it. Are you wanting to come along, or do you have questions you want me to ask?” He turns away from the wall of relics, facing his brother and the sea of books. “‘Cause if you want to come along, you’d have to tone down the blasphemy. A lot.”

Essek looked quite small next to the sea of knowledge that the archive kept, like when they were children and he would skip dinner because he was in the library and their mother would send Verin to see what Essek was doing. When Verin gives him the warning, though, he smiles like a little devil. "I can behave. But yes, I would like to come along. I would like to make them very technical questions." He hums, shelving the book and picking up another one, about history this time. "Did you know that they have a beacon? I first tried to ask them to reasearch them but they had some very strong words in return."

Verin scoffs with a roll of his eyes, all too used to his brother’s lack of social skills. “They’re not going to be happy to see you again, then. Are you sure you want to come? You might end up pissing them off more than you already have if you come.” He runs his fingers along the spines of the books before smirking and turning a few around so their pages face outwards. Just to piss off Essek. “Not that I don’t want you to come. I just don’t want you getting us into any additional trouble.”

"They never even saw me the first time, they just received a curious message from someone." Essek was going to thumb through the book in his hands, but then he stared in horror as Verin started messing with the books. It was worse than any betrayal or treason. With a gesture of his hand, he pulls the books back out, turns them around and slots them back in facing the way they should. "I will not get us into trouble, I can play nice. I can fool people into thinking I am a believer well enough."

Verin pouts as Essek uses magic to simply put the books back where they belong, shooting him a glare. “That’s not fair..” He grumbles, but stops his rampage and instead uses the bookshelves to lea against. “Can you? Every time the Luxon is brought up, you get this look on your face like you are a lemon. Covered in poison.” He picks out a book at random and starts thumbing through it with little interest. He dog-ears a page that looks mildly intriguing.

Essek just smiles smugly at pissing off his brother, proud of his little trick. He was not going to tell Verin that magic so specific was hard to pull off. "I can be very convincing." He puts on the same puppy eyed face he would do at the Queen when she went on about how disastrous the missing beacons were, or when he wanted to ask their mother for some new expensive device. "I can do it for my little brother, even if it would pain me greatly. Perhaps the anguish will just sell it better. Beside, I like to think of myself more like those colorful mushrooms. Friendly looking and highly poisonous." His face drops to outright disgust when Verin fold the little corner, complete with a sound and everything.

Verin gives Essek an unimpressed look at his puppy-dog eyes, primarily because he remembers how he’d use that look to avoid punishment after sticking Verin to a ceiling or worse. “Friendly looking? You’ve got the worst resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.” He flicks Essek’s forehead and smirks. “But it would be really fun to see you try and pull off being a believer, so I’m in.” He flicks through a few more pages and dog-ears two more before putting it back on the shelf.. in the wrong place. Out of order. It’s hard to tell if he’s doing this on purpose to piss Essek off or if he’s genuinely just.. like this.

"My face is the best resting bitch face." He huffs, shoving past Verin to reorganize the books correctly, by hand this time. He had even forgotten he had been holding one. There was nothing that pissed him off more than a disorganized library. How were people supposed to find information if they had to go through the hurdle of also finding the books they needed. "I know the prayers, I have the paraphernalia. I will do such a good job that you will believe I have actually been a believer all along."

Verin scoffs, purposely elbowing his brother as he shoves past. “With how vehemently you’ve been against the Luxon, I don’t think you could convince of your faith with even the strongest of spells.” He looks at the other titles on the nearly shelf, but shows little interest. He does smile at the idea of putting jam in one, though… just to infuriate his brother and his ancestors.

Essek rubs at where Verin struck, almost going through the motions of casting a spell against him just out of instinct, but the energy fizzles in his hands as he remembers he cannot be doing that anymore. Instead he just throws some curses at Verin that their mother would demand to know where he even learned them from. “Perhaps not you, because you know the truth. Do I have to fool some priest before you believe I can act my part? You forget that I was the Shadowhand sometimes.” He leaves his own book where he found it.

Verin sticks his tongue out at Essek. Childish, as always. “And you say I swear too much..” He starts walking down the aisle of books, eyes scanning the spines for anything relating to poetry or polearms. “I believe you can play the part, I’m just baffled by your willingness to act like a believer, even for your pursuit of knowledge.”

Essek sticks his tongue back at him, a wholly undignified look. "Because you do." He follows Verin, though his scanning being related to subjects like dunamancy or astrology. Who would tell these people from the past how much things have changed? That even the moons in the sky are not what they think? He has a tought to also look for books on divinity, the older the better. "Well, acting is not the same as reality. Besides, false worship is blasphemous, remember?"

“Hypocrite.” Verin throws a centuries-old book at his brother in an archive full of priceless relics and infinite knowledge. “I suppose so, but even false worship can power a god, no?” He spots an old prayer book, funnily enough, and snatches it up, thumbing through it with a half-interested hum. It’s a bit harder to read, given the archaic version of Undercommon, but the words themselves are poignant.

Essek barely catches it with a mage hand, flinching back as he does. "Verin! I am telling mother you are disrespecting the den's heirlooms when she comes back." He was absolutely going to snitch on him. After the mage hand puts the book back, it slaps him on the back of his head before disappearing. Essek, on his part, grabs an old, old tome from the shelf. It was an essay on the gods and, as he pages through it, he counts just how many the writing mentions. "If it did, the Betrayers would just make farms of false worship. To my knowledge, only Asmodeus does that sometimes." Essek had zero qualms when talking about it, as if they could not smite him where he stood.

“Wha—hey, that’s not fair! I’m telling mother you’re swearing up a storm in the den archives, thus disrespecting the family name.” Verin retorts, crossing his arms defiantly, but the slap to his head has him whining. He rub the back of his head and grumbles, glaring at Essek with all the rage he can muster. Which isn’t much. It’s hard to get him truly angry.

"Is she going to believe that her proper, well behaved son would do something like that? I do not even know any curses, Verin." He smirks knowing full well he could sway their mother's punishment. Even if he denied it, he acted like he was her favourite. After not finding what he was searching for, he leaves the book once more, stepping back to take in just how much knowledge had been stored under their house all this time. "Knowing I only had one lifetime mother could have let me into her secret sooner..."

Verin glares daggers at his brother. “And you say you’re not the favorite child.” He shoves Essek into the bookshelf, toppling a few books in the process. He wanders further, mainly just walking around to keep from staying in one place. He hates standing still. “Maybe the whole point was to convince you to consecute yourself by showing you all this stuff.” He gestures vaguely around the place while walking backwards, but stops abruptly when he nears the center contraption. He clutches his chest and a hiss, as if having a heart attack, and quickly scrambles away from the thing.

Essek lets out a noise of frustration, having to control all self control he had to not blast Verin across the room. It was not fair that he couldn’t use his own abilities against him while Verin could just shove him around. When they get his magic aversion resolve he was going to pin him to the ground for hours. “I would sooner die a painful death and be tortured for all of eternity that ever become consecuted.” He sughs and, even through his frustration, goes grab his brother to drag him away. “You need to be more careful, you cannot die in such a stupid way.”

Verin scoffs at his brother’s chiding, but his focus is on the device in the center of the room. His expression is one of both confusion and haunting familiarity. He stares, not speaking, for a whole minute before he turns and starts walking back towards the exit. “Well should leave.” He says sternly, posture rigid and strangely guarded as if readying for battle. “You saw everything you wanted, right? There’s no need to loiter.”

Essek frowns at Verin’s sudden change of demeanour, looking between him and the device. If it was anything else, it may not have been weird to see that look of recognition from his brother, but this was a magic artifact, not a weapon or armour. So, he estands his ground. He felt like his brother didn’t want him to continue looking around. “Verin, what is in the device?” It was phrased as a question, but he was telling Verin to tell him, not giving him room to not do so.

Verin shakes his head and does not stop walking. If anything, his pace speeds up minutely. “I don’t know, but..” He rubs at his chest. He can feel it tightening and bile creeping up his throat. “Something feels wrong. We should leave. Ask mother about what the hell is down here or something, but we should be anywhere but here.”

Essek hangs back, crossing over his chest, thinking if what he should do. He knew he should follow Verin out and ask their mother later about it, but he was a fool, and too curious for his own good. He does not miss the feeling as the hair at the back of his neck stands up, as if he is going to make a big mistake. “I am staying. I need to see this.”

Vern finally stops in his tracks, whirling around to face Essek with a look of both frustration and worry. “Essek, no.” He takes a few steps towards his brother, even when everything in him is screaming at him to run. “Don’t be an idiot, not when I know you know better.” He extends a hand towards his brother, almost pleading. “I will drag you out if I have to.”

"Do not get closer, you will get hurt." Essek doesn't move though, staring at the device, his expression twitching as if he was deciding what to do. Even after what he had done and learned, he could not resist that pull that knowledge had on him. "What if this could help you? What if you could come out of here cured?" Verin had seen the slightly manic look in his brother's eyes, the type where his mind was quickly spiraling down into unwise decisions and obsessing over finding answers. "I just need ten minutes, to know what it does. And then we can leave." Unless he found out it was something really interesting.

Verin shakes his head and disobeys Essek’s command, stepping closer. He can’t let his brother do this. “No. We can’t afford what-ifs, Essek. You can’t afford them. You are a father now, remember? You can’t be reckless like this, not when you have a family that relies on you.” He walks closer until he can reach Essek, grabbing his wrist. “We can’t always come back, but we should know what we’re getting into first.”

Essek looks down at where Verin has grabbed his wrist, almost offended that he didn't seem to listen to what he was saying. Then, he looks back at Verin, stern, but not pulling away. "My life has been what-ifs since I was born until this moment. Every day I go to rest thinking about what if your Queen decided to retire my pardon, or a volstrucker managed to hunt me down, or I would wake up to a message that you had been killed for something I did not manage to fix quick enough." There was something strong beneath the last scenario, an 'again' that he didn't say outloud. "Would our mother hide anything truly dangerous under the house where her two new soul children live?"

Verin’s grip only tightens on Essek’s wrist, his desperation growing. “But this is a needless risk, Essek, one that you can’t be taking now that you have a child!” He argues, tugging on Essek’s wrist in hopes of coaxing him away. “Maybe, I don’t know. That machine is encasing it, so maybe it’s not dangerous now, but fucking around with it and opening it up probably isn’t a good idea.”

Essek's eyes soften ever so slightly at Verin's desperation, and his words. He knew if something happened to him, Liliana would be in good hands, so he did not worry about her in that sense. And he was not scared of his brother mourning him, it would happen sooner or later, he was afraid that he would get angry at him. But the strong dunamantic energy and his brother's recognition of it did not sit well in him. He lowers his head a little and, just as it looks that he is going to give up on it, he weaves his fingers in the direction of the device to cast Locate Object, one of the most rudimentary spells in his book. The chance was very slim, but he was testing if the device held a Beacon in it.

Verin is quick to catch his brother, grabbing both his arms to steady him. Essek’s words have his eyes wide and he can’t speak for a moment, then shakes his head. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?” He looks between Essek and the contraption. His mind is made up, and he starts dragging Essek towards the exit. “Nope, nope, nope—we need answers before we go anywhere near it.”

Essek doesn't put up a fight anymore, following Verin with the uncharacteristic sound of steps following his movement. His raises his hand towards his mouth as his mind tries to make sense of it, nibbling at the knuckles of his finger until he draws blood. "We cannot tell anyone that it's here." Did the Queen know? Or their mother? Was that what the volstruckers were actually after? When did their family even acquired it? There were so many questions that were too dangerous to ask. "We need to make it untraceable. We need--lead, a lead casing." It was like finding a bomb underneath their childhood home.

Verin gets Essek outside the room and shuts the huge door with a loud bang, then returns to his brother’s side. “Essek, hey, hey—“ He gently pulls Essek’s hands from his face, using his cape to dab away the blood. “Shh, hold on, it’s okay.” He might not feel too confident himself, but looking at Essek, he knows he needs to be strong for him. “It’s been down here and the house has been fine, right? Let’s just settle down and we’ll talk to mother and figure it out.”

Essek hisses as he sees the blood, not having noticed he had bitten down so far. It was impossible to know which of his concerns he should voice first, but as Verin mentions their mother, he shakes his head. "No, we cannot tell mother. Not now. She is still sick. If she says anything it could be catastrophic." He pushes down all the anger that was beginning to boil inside of him. They had a beacon under their house all this time. "Mother has been keeping a beacon from the Queen. If she caused a war for two missing for a few months, the hells would tremble if she found out her best friend had hidden one from her." Essek passes a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. There were little times in his life where he had felt so in danger. "We have to be cautious. And quick. I doubt those volstruckers were meant to cause a distraction now."

Verin searches through the pouch he keeps around his waist, usually for battle emergencies, and pulls out a small healing potion. He pours it over Essek’s bite wounds to heal them. “Why are you so sure the Queen doesn’t know? I mean.. mother told the Queen everything. Even all our embarrassing childhood bullshit!” He tries to lighten the mood. It doesn’t quite work. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all this! In fact..” He glances back at the archive they just exited. “Maybe there’s something in there that tells us why it’s there?” He looks at his brother again and frowns. “Later, though. We need a break.”

Essek thinks about pulling away when Verin goes to use a whole healing potion on him for just a bite, but he doesn't want to add more worries to his brother. So he just lets him, watching the wounds close and prestidigitating away any remnants of it once the effect is over. He hated the feeling of it on his skin. "Maybe she knows, but it doesn't make sense. I have never seen any records of it." He almost goes on to bite at his finger again, but catches himself and instead runs his hand across the embroidery of his robe. But he nods. They needed to look into it further. "Let's have a break, then. But we need to figure this out."

Verin nods, hooking his arm through his brother’s for stability before starting to make his way back up the long, winding staircase. “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this, no need to worry.” He assures, but the words sound hollow even to him. When they eventually reach the top again, Verin sits Essek down on their mother’s bed and sends his echo out to get them some water. “I still think we should talk to mother, though. She’ll know better than anyone what’s going on.”

Essek allows Verin to guide him, decorum being the only thing keeping him from flopping on the bed. There were very few times where he had slept in their mother's bed as a child, but it was still as comfortable as he remembered. "I... Guess we can ask her. If it goes wrong there are ways to fix it." He pats the spot at his side for Verin to sit with him. He felt guilty that Verin had been stepping up to console him so many times lately, as if he was a child that could not control himself.

Verin checks over Essek one more time, smoothing his hair back from his eyes, before taking a seat with a sigh. There’s a lot to process from just this one day alone. “Mother is strong, remember? She can handle a few questions. It either that or we go back down there and look for answers ourselves.” Verin, unlike Essek, has little to no decorum and flops back into the bed like a marionette with its strings cut.

Essek doesn't follow, but he does pull his legs under himself so he can turn to face Verin. "I know she is. She is honestly the only one I am not worried about." He sighs, pulling back his hair as if in a ponytail and, as he presses his hand to it. Even without a ribbon, the hair stays as he lets go. "I overreacted, I fear. But what worries me is the political implications of it. Either the Queen does not know, or she knows and for some reason does not keep a record of it." He props his chin on his hand, looking around the room. "I would like to go back down, but I also do not wish for it to hurt you. It may just be contained there, yes. But what if it is a device to amplify its effect? It could hurt you." As he thinks about it, he lets out a small nervous laugh. "I would not wish to explain mother how her son died because we were snooping around."

Verin watches Essek put his hair up and wishes, not for the first time, that he could use magic. Without having to learn it, of course. He finds magic lessons terribly boring. “Our den has been good friends with her majesty for centuries.. it’s unlikely they’ve kept this a secret from her. Not impossible, sure, but I wouldn’t freak out just yet.” He reaches up to boop Essek’s nose, as if that will assuage his fears. “You.. have a point. We could just try and find information first, like a manual or record or something.” He drags a hand down his face, which scrunches up in thought. “Don’t libraries usually have some sort of record of everything inside them? I guess in our case it’s more like a museum, but still.”

Essek raises an eyebrow at the boop, raising his hand confused as to why his brother was like that. "Maybe, but then it raises another question as to why the Queen would hide it from anyone else." He smoothes out his robes, making sure they were properly tucked inside of his hip wrap. "Most of them do, yes. The good ones do at least. I could try locating some kind of ledger, but without knowing the specifics of the object it would be kind of hard."

Verin shrugs and turns to flop on his stomach instead. “Well.. we did have one beacon stolen.” He gives his brother a look. “So hiding another one somewhere no one knows about would be a good idea.” He nudges his brother’s knee with the cold, armored boot. “You do know you don’t have to use magic for everything, right? We can just.. look. With our eyes. If the ledger holds information for the entire archive, then it’s bound to be out somewhere so it can be edited frequently.”

Essek puff out his chest at Verin's little jab. While he regretted the consequences that his actions had, if things had turned out different, he would be inmensely proud of the heist itself. "And look at how that turned out." He pushes Verin's foot away, towards the edge of the bed, even if he could not do much against Verin's muscular and armored leg. "The ledger for the Cobalt Soul is so hidden it gets lost sometimes. Magic just makes things easier." He pauses. "Also, I like it."

Verin rolls his eyes, but stops kicking his brother, at least. For now. “There’s nothing wrong with liking magic, but you can’t always rely on it.” He remembers all the times in battle he’s fought spellcasters who relied so heavily on magic they didn’t know what to do when a physical battle came along. He knows his brother is smarter and more skilled than that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry. “Do you want to look for the ledger now, or do you need a break?”

"Not all of us were blessed with bodies that will not snap at the lightest forms of physical activity. Besides, you are only obsessed with it because it is your line of work, I could say the same to you about learning magic." Essek scoffs, not bothered at all that his little brother grew up to be broader and taller than him while he could get a sprained ankle just by walking down stairs. Not at all bothered. "Let's go look for it before mother gets back. I have barely spent any of my energy today anyway." He stands from the bed, putting his boots back on and recasting his floating cantrip.

Verin slinks off of the bed and stretches, fixing his hair real quick before starting to head back towards the balcony. “Come on then, dalninuk, the night is young!” He forces cheer to make the situation seem less, well.. dire. Surely, if he’s optimistic enough, things will turn out fine. Surely. “I only have a few hours before I’m needed back in Bazzoxan, so let’s hope this doesn’t take too long.” He starts hopping down the stairs three at a time.

Essek chuckles at that, shaking his head as he floats down the stairs behind him. "Do not say that, now it will surely take long." While they descend, he pulls out his spellbook once more, flipping through a few pages as he checked some things. He almost bumps into Verin at some point, his habit of forgetting to look forward having not died down, it seems. "If it is a beacon down there, once we fix what is wrong with your magic aversion, we could get you consecuted again." Consecution didn't work like that, he knew, but the believers seemed to think the theatrics were necessary.

When Verin feels Essek bump into his back, he’s quick to shoot a glare behind him and flip him off.. as a warning, of course. If it happens again, he’s going to throw his brother down the stairs, magic be damned. But the mention of being consecuted once more is enough to perk him right back up, eyes brightening. “You really think so? Do you know how to consecute people?” He asks excitedly, but it fades just as quickly as he shakes his head. “Nono, being consecuted without the Queen’s blessing goes against the Luxon’s teachings and Dynasty law. But it’s a nice thought.”

Essek had not even noticed his brother's response with his head burried in his book, just muttered something that might have been an apology. Might have. "I do, it is one of the rituals available through Dunamancy, though less flashy." He only pays attention to where he was when they reached the door once more, starting to open it again. "If it is the Luxon that allows consecution, wouldn't their acceptance of it override the Bright Queen's jurisdiction?" It was those types of questions that would get him in trouble as a kid, those times being some of the only ones their mother would get actually mad at him.

As they step back into the archive, Verin takes a deep breath and rests his hand on the hilt of his backup shortsword. It’s not his usual glaive or polearm, but it’ll do in an emergency. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it. “If I was to operate outside of her majesty’s guidance, I fear the Luxon would reject my consecution entirely. Even if it did work, it would be against the law and against my honor code as a knight of the Aurora Watch.”

Essek scrunches his nose, as if Verin's strict beliefs were rarer than a two eyed beholder. "I will never understand you holy people." If he was in Verin's situation, he would just seize the opportunity and override whatever the Bright Queen said. She was just a woman that said she spoke for a god. As they make their way inside, Essek dips a hand into one of his pockets then rubs his eyelids with something, casting True Sight on himself. It looks like his irises became slightly translucent, which was admittedly a bit creepy, but as the spell takes effect he looks around to see if they had missed anything.

"Ah, there we go." Essek heads straight for it, passing right next to the device as if unconsciously flaunting that he could. He looks around as he approaches, taking in anything that might peak his interest. Once he is right in front of it, he leans in to discern if it was what they were searching for, grabbing the edges of his waist wrap to keep himself from reaching out to it. For now.

Verin shoots his brother a glare, not that the other can see it, when he walks next to the device. Verin gives the contraption a wide berth, but even then he still shudders at the wave of dizziness that washes over him. He manages to pass without further issue, though, and walks as far away as he can. When they reach the book, Verin peaks over Essek’s shoulder to read. The pages are filled with lists of books and relics and a brief description of each item.. and the words glint faintly with magic. When touched, a magic image of the item would appear.

Essek starts flipping through the book, learning that the images pop up the hard way by touching one accidentally and getting spooked ever so lightly. From then on he just hovers his hand over the page to keep track of where he was on the list, almost like an Aeormaton with how mechanical he was being. Not that Verin had met one, most likely. He will only come to a stop once he finds it or he is done with the whole book.

Verin bites back a snort at seeing Essek spooked, but besties that is quiet as he watches his brother. The book is thick, filled to the brim with item and item, and Verin struggles to pay attention.. he’s never been good at sitting still and waiting. But eventually, the title ‘Beacon Container’ is found, accompanied by the image of the contraption. But unlike the other relics on the list, there is very little detail other than the date acquired — centuries ago by now — and a note that reads: ‘Keep hidden and mention to no one, on command of her majesty. The people cannot know.’

Essek lets out a sigh at that, looking over the image. “Well, at least there is that.” He scoffs, infinitely annoyed by the Dynasty’s obsession of being as cague as possible. He understood not telling anyone, but even in their ledger, really? “So, no mentions as to why this is here aside from keeping it a secret. It does not mention to be anything other than a container, though, so maybe I could take a look.”

Verin grimaces and crosses his arms, still quite hesitant. “I still don’t think messing with it is a good idea, not when we still know so little.” He chews on his bottom lip in thought. “Maybe it’s best if we ask mother about it first?”

Essek has not noticed Verin's hesitance, his mind focused forwards in time. "Mother will still take some time to come back, one look can't hurt." He looks back at the machine. "Besides, we do not know how to even open it. We can look into that. Or I can, you can be around in case something happens."

Verin sighs, clearly still not on board, but resigned to the fact that he can’t persuade Essek once his mind is set on something. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chews at his bottom lip nervously, torn between what his instincts are teling him and what his brother wants.

"It will be fine, just do not stand too close." Essek heads towards the device, intent on checking the runes that surrounded it once more. Now that he knew it was meant to be some kind of storage device, he was trying to gauge if any of the runes in it seemed out of place for its function. He knew it was probably activated by the lever that came out from it, but he wanted first to make sure there wasn't anything amiss in how it worked.

With Identify cast, the runes shine crimson for a brief moment, as if warning against further inspection, before the answers come to Essek in a rush. This device is not only meant to hide the Beacon from those seeking to steal it, but to contain the dangerous and unstable power within. The stray rune implies that the Beacon it holds is, in some way, defective and malfunctioning.

Essek groans, mumbling to himself as he straightens up. He jots the new discoveries down, walking back to Verin as he does. Whatever he found, he resigned himself to not continue his research. "That is enough. Let's go ask mother, hopefully that will clear some things up. I do not have the energies to spend to find out more today." He closes his tome and throws his book up, letting it dissapear.

Verin visibly relaxes the second Essek turns away from the device. “Yes, let’s.” He says, clearly relieved that they’re not conducting experiments of any kind. He’s not sure what he would’ve, or could’ve really, done if Essek ended up hurting himself in the process. He’s already walking towards the exit before Essek can reach him.

Essek glides behind him, accelerating his pace a bit to catch up to him. If Verin looked, he would see that his brother was concentrated on something, biting just very lightly at his bottom lip. Enough that Verin could tell with the years of experience of knowing him, but not enough that anyone else could. He was running through the possibilities of why a corrupted beacon was under their house, and what it meant. He had already heard of something similar from the Bright Queen, a beacon corrupted by the Spider Queen. Maybe it was something like that. Instead, he voices a much lighter thought. "Does my floating cantrip make you sick when I am near you?"

Verin watches his brother closely in silence as they head towards the exit, simultaneously trying to figure out what’s going on in that mind of his and making sure the other is alright. Beacons are a sensitive subject for them both, after all. But Essek’s question catches him off guard, and he blinks dumbly for a few seconds before replying. “Your.. floating cantrip? No, not really. I feel a bit of pressure in my chest when you first cast it or if you get too close, but nothing crazy.”

Essek nods, as if he was writing it down in the library that was his mind. As they come out of the archive, he is the one to close the door to it. With his hands, not magic. He goes before Verin up the stairs, hands neatly tucked beneath his cloak. "Maybe you are just used to it. What do you think is afflicting you?" This was probably the first time Essek had asked about his theories on it and not about what happened. Maybe he was just exploring another avenue to find out what was happening, or maybe it related to what he had been pondering.

Verin looks at Essek funny when he closes the door by hand, confused as to why his brother, who relies on magic for just about everything from the mundane to the grand, would deign to close a heavy door by himself. He’s even more confused when Essek asks for his opinion oh his illness — in his mind, Verin isn’t skilled enough to try and theorize. “I.. don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about the specifics, more just about how to live with it. I sort of went past the understanding it and straight to the living with it.”

"That is understandable. You would wish to know how to navigate your life with it if you did not know how to get better." Essek doesn't say it with malice, just as an observation. "But I still think your opinion would be valuable, even if it is just a guess. Even if it ends up being something else. So, what do you think?" Once they are back outside, he waits for Verin by the telescope, giving it a spare glance with a tilt of his head.

Once they reach the balcony again, Verin hops up onto the railing and swings his legs over, gazing at the twinkling stars as if they may hold the answers he seeks. “A guess..” His face scrunches up in thought. “Maybe I interacted with some cursed artifact while on assignment and didn’t know it?”

Essek reaches out towards him, but quickly lets his hand drop with a huff when he realizes Verin is just sitting down. He had always been a bit anxious about his brother's recklessness, but being a father now had made him even more. He was going to turn greyer. "That is a good theory. An artifact powerful enough can work undetected. The Nein told me that Veth carried a cursed blade without them knowing for a while." He twists the key back out of the telescope, leaning on the railing next to Verin. "But even the most powerful artifacts can be dispelled. We will figure it out."

Verin sighs, looking up towards the beautiful night sky, eyes tracing the different constellations. “I know. I trust you to be able to figure it out. If anyone can solve this mystery of mine, it’s you.” He glances back at his brother with a small smile as he swings his legs back and forth like an overeager child.

Essek scoffs, straightening up as if he was insulted by the mere implication that he could not. But Verin knew better. Essek was flattered by it, raising his head proudly. "It is very hard to remain humble if you speak of me that way." He looks up at the stars, seeing in then less the mythical aspect of them and more the mathematics and physics he had found himself attracted to. He could fix Verin's problem, he just needed a stroke of inspiration.

Verin rolls his eyes, but the fond curl of his lips gives away his lack of true annoyance. “It’s not that hard, you’re just an egoist.” He elbows Essek, lightly this time, just to scold. He takes a moment to admire the sky a bit longer before swinging his legs back over the rail and hopping down. “Well, I should probably get going. I can’t be away from Bazzoxan too long, and I’d say my curiosities are satiated for the time being.”

“And you used to call me addicted to my work.” Essek returns the elbowing, much less effectively. He understood that there were differences between their labour, and that Verin’s was urgent and more immediately necessary, but they both were. Probably a side effect of their upbringing. “Alright, I will let you go to them. Do you wish me to wait formyou to ask mother about the beacon?”

Verin scoffs, already heading off the balcony. “Yes, well, we’re both workaholics, admittedly.” The two of them really could use a vacation. Or three, really, to catch up on all the time they’ve spent working their lives away. “No, you can go ahead. I trust you to relay the information. Besides, Mother is more likely to be honest with you than me.”

Essek follows to see him off as he always did before Verin returned to his station. He never missed the chance to say goodbye to him. "I am not a workaholic, I also knit sometimes." He had began to do that recently, a suggestion that had a high chance of coming from Caduceus. "I will continue with it, then. But do not doubt mother, though. She would answer if you asked too."

Verin scoffs as the two walk through the estate, avoiding the few sections still under repair. “Oh, yes, because knitting makes up for the dozens of hours straight you spend hunched over your spellbook like a shrimp.” The brothers soon reach the front door to the estate, which Verin exits out of before stopping by the small stable where the Den’s mounts are kept and retrieving his jet black mare. “Yes, I’m sure she would, but she more likely to give you more details than me.”

"It does. Instead I am bent for hours over a strand of yarn and some needles." Essek was not making it to 300 with a straight back, it seemed. Essek waves at Verin's horse, once more keeping his distance from it as he did. "That may be true. I will ask her, then relay anything important to you. Let's hope she decides to not be too difficult."

Verin shakes his head and slaps his brother on this back. “You’re going to need some posture correction before you’re 280, I swear..” Verin carefully strokes the mane of is beloved mare before starting to ready her for travel, putting on her saddle and reins. “Please, when has Mother ever made anything easy for us? I wish you luck.”

Essek straightens up out of instinct, the act not too different from when their mother would push on his back when he was slouching while reading. "If I make it to 280 I will consider it a victory." He watches his brother with no interest. Essek had only traveled by horse a couple of times and they had all been disastrous. "Oh, absolutely never. It is nice to dream, though."

With his horse now prepared, Verin turns to his brother and pulls him into a quick but crushing hug. When he pulls away, it’s with his usual beaming smile. “Well, I hope she’s not too difficult this time. Let me know if you need any help, okay?” He squeezes Essek’s shoulder encouragingly, then turns away and mounts the black mare with ease.

Verin’s gaze only blurs for a moment at the magic, smiling at the sound of his brother’s voice. He hurries over to the tree, his brow furrowing in concern at seeing Essek up in the tree. “Hey! Be careful up there!” He warns, but he’s grinning ear to ear the moment he realizes what Essek is doing. He can still find his name on the tree among their hundreds of ancestors. “Is little Lilliana with you?”

"I am careful!" Essek looks down at him with his hands on his hips, offended that Verin would suggest otherwise. Though it is short lived as he turns back to the name scribbled with magic on the bark, frustrated that he was not getting the results he wanted. This was usually done by an Umavi, and close to the name of the persons parents, but he was being a show-off. "Not with me, no. But she is with the servants inside. They are acting like they have never seen a baby in their lives." To be fair, Verin was the last child to come directly from the main line of den Thelyss, so it has been a hundred years since they last had one in the den.

Verin rolls his eyes at his brother’s attitude, but he can’t hide the fond smile that still creeps onto his face regardless. Rather than wait for Essek to finish. Verin grabs a branch and starts climbing up himself. Nostalgia washes over him, remembering well when he’d climb this tree over and over as a kid. Once he reaches the closest sturdy branch to Essek, he sits down and takes a look at Essek’s handiwork. “What’re you still working on? The engraving looks fine.” He runs his fingers over his and Essek’s old engraving, their mother’s calligraphy immaculate.

Essek looks at him as he climbs. As children, he would never be the one in the tree, he would be below yelling at Verin to climb down before he fell and hurt himself. The only time he did manage to climb a bit ended up with a sprained ankle and a request to their mother to buy him the scroll for Feather fall. He then huffs, tapping the engraving tool against his boot. "It's not...It is lacking something and I do not know what." Ah, Essek, ever the perfectionist.

The climb is considerably more difficult when wearing a suit of armor, but thankfully he’s trained enough now to handle the extra weight. He’s not sure if the branch with handle him for long, but.. it’s fine for now. Hopefully. He looks back over at Essek’s engraving and hums thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it’s ’cause Lilliana-Namid is different from the others on the tree. She’s not only a Dynasty child, but a Zemnian one too. It needs something.. Caleb-y. Maybe. I dunno.”

While it was incredibly impressive that Verin could haul his and his armour's weigh while climbing, Essek, being his brother, can't help but think he looks like a toddler climbing stairs bigger than him. He bites that down, though. "Do not fall. If you fall I cannot help you." Essek thinks hard on Verin's words, on what Caleb like could mean. Cats, obviously, but he was not going to add doodles to their den's tree as if he was a kid. Maybe he could add some zemniam framing around the name. He waves his hand, the illusion spreading into decorative designs of plants and flowers around it, things he has seen in the cover of Caleb's children's stories, but he doesn't seem to convince. "Perhaps... I could cast a spell on it so that it replays something when touched."

“I’m not gonna fall! Even if I do, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far of a drop.” Verin leans against the trunk of the tree, watching Essek work his magic, literally, much like he would when they were kids. “What would you replay, though? Some memory of Lilliana and Caleb? That would definitely be unique.. it won’t hurt the tree though, right?”

"If I have to tell mother that you fell from the tree again she is going to ask if we are back to being children." He seemed amused by the idea. He had always taken every chance to prove to their mother that they were, in fact, their children and not some souls she had given a body to. "It will not hurt it, no. It is just like a sticker of sorts, something that could be taken off it needed. A memory sounds nice, or perhaps a message. I could also leave the instruction for spells Caleb and I have built together so she will find them when she is older. So many options..." Essek's eyes move as he stares at the name, searching what he could condense in a single moment that will be remembered by anyone who touches the tree.

Verin rolls his eyes, but smiles all the same at the mental image of their mother, disappointed and bemused all at once, hearing about her sons’ chaos. He reaches up to run his fingers over Lilliana-Namid’s newly engraved name, humming in thought. “Well, what if you make it a memory of you and Caleb reading to Namid? That way she can hear both your voices again even after you’re gone.” His smile turns bittersweet. “And she’ll have a bedtime story from her dads that she can play for her children and her children’s children, for generations to come.”

Essek thinks about it. Namid, if she ever became consecuted, would be an outlier within their den, with her parents not being so. Verin and Essek temporarily lost their mother, and even then that was strange, but they grew up with the assurance that she would always be there. He doubted that even if consecution was offered to Caleb that he would accept it, so leaving something to her to remember them by was not such a bad idea. That and he loved the idea of engraving into their tree the fact that a human from the Empire made it into their family, a poke at their rigid ideals of what the den should be. "That sounds lovely, Verin." He nods, resolute in it, and floats the set of tools laying on the ground towards him so he can store the one he had been using. "I will tell Caleb, then. He has a better hand for these things than I do. Did I ever tell you his tower is full of books her remembers even though he has only read them once?"

Verin grins ear-to-ear when Essek praises his idea, always happy to help in any way he can. Though he is tempted to smack to toolkit out of the air when Essek floats it up.. he’s still his little brother, after all, but he decides against it and behaves. This time. “I can’t imagine ever reading enough books to fill a whole tower, especially not in a short lifespan like his was.. nerd.” He sighs, as if disappointed in his future brother-in-law for being so much like his brother. Verin was hoping for someone he could spar with, but if Caleb was limited to melee weapons only, Verin fears he’d ana the poor man in half. “Do you need any help getting down?”

Essek raises his chin as he did when he was proud of something. "He is a very diligent and studious man, I am sure he will do great things with the added time he will have now." Essek tucks the kit under his arm, a little clumsily getting his legs out from under him. "Hm, no." He grins and then just drops from the branch. Though, of course, no harm comes to him as he just floats down. Nothing else could be expected from the man that defied gravity daily.

Verin rolls his eyes, used to his brother’s pride but no more pleased with it. He follows Essek down, taking much longer to actually climb, of course, and lands next to him with a thump. “Well, now what? Are we finally going to take a look at whatever’s going on with mother’s telescope?” He reaches over to Essek to pick a leaf out of his hair, snickering at the sight of his high-and-mighty brother with leaves in his hair like an overgrown squirrel.

Essek looks at the leaf as if it had offended his whole family, passing a hand through his hair in case there were any other intruders in it with a huff. "Yes, finally. Curiosity has been eating me, let's go before I am fully devoured." He starts heading back to the house, matching Verin's speed. "Mother is having tea with Leylas, so we should have a few hours for ourselves."

Verin grazes his fingertips over the blossoms of the tallest flowers as they walk, gaze flitting between every beautiful gift of nature present in the garden. Growing up in the estate, the gardens were always his favorite part. He’d spend most of his childhood training, but when he wasn’t training or sleeping he was out here, playing make believe and getting caked in mud. “Tea with her majesty? Is the Queen feeling better?”

Essek seems content with merely looking around, taking his surroundings in like he had done since he was a child. Their mother used to joke that he stared at things so much he might need glasses. Which, he did, and never wore them, but he was not going to tell her that. "She is, from what I know she had returned to her duties fully already. In truth, the ritual for curing Typhros only exhausts individuals for a few days, though I guess getting reacquaintanced with ones soul must be a strange process. I think mother wants to ask her about it to be prepared."

Verin nods, focus returning to his brother as they enter the estate. “I see.. I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant experience. Are you sure it has no adverse effects?” He climbs the servant stairs, the main staircase still under construction, but doesn’t have to step over any gaps this time on the way to their mother’s room. “How do you know it won’t hurt Mother? I know I have no place to ask when you’re the expert, but.. you know. We just got her back.”

Essek follows, floating up the stairs with ease. There were still things that needed to be replaced or fixed, specially the paintings. "It should not hurt her, no. I had my doubts when working on Leylas, since it would be the first time I tried it, but it has proven to be harmless." He thinks on how to explain it, rubbing his chin as he worked on simplifying it. "Think of a soul as a pearl necklace. When consecution ocurs there is a period of time during a new life where pearls are added to it, but they are different sizes and of different origins. Add to that that passing through a beacon alters the structure of the necklace, twisting it and corrupting it, and you just have a tangled mess. The process of the cure is about untangling it. Nothing is getting removed or altered, just rearranged." As he speaks, he projects in his hand a simulation of what a soul looks like. It was almost like an atom, if Verin knew what that was. Essek had said many times that the reason why he refused consecution was because it messed with the soul, aside from any other heretic stuff, so perhaps this is what he meant.

Verin still looks… lost, but he does seem fascinated by the the projection. “Huh.. well, if that’s the case, then how long does your cure ‘untangle’ a soul? Could her majesty and mother develop Typhros again?” He asks as he pulls out a rings of keys to unlock and open the door to their mother’s room, still kept as clean and tidy as possible while still keeping most people out. “Do you have the steps of the cure written down, even? So that people can recreate it and cure more on a wider scale?”

Essek lets out a little hum as he thinks, probably running calculations in his head. "A few lifetimes, I would think, though there has never been anything like this so it is hard to say. Typhros is years worth of this tangling. Perhaps it would take the same time, perhaps less, or it may be individual to each person. But it will reocurr, it is a flaw native to consecution. The whole process, from a soul's standpoint, is barbaric. It is incredible it does not cause more issues. It is hard to research, though, since the whole process is full of secrecy." He was probably exaggerating, being talking freely like the heretic he was, but he seemed convinced on his phrasing, and his knowledge. Unaware of the effect his words may have, he glides into the room, looking for their mothers telescope. "No, I have not written it down, nor will I until my pardon is permanent and the Queen realizes her way of handling the research of Dunamancy is foolish. Without my title it is the only thing I can hold against her. But even if I wrote it down it would be hard to find other people able to perform it."

Verin grimaces at his brother’s.. harsh interpretation of consecution, but decides not to argue about it this time. They have bigger things to worry about, and he knows he won’t be able to change Essek’s mind anymore than Essek would be able to change his. “You don’t have it written down anywhere? But what if, Light forbid, something should happen to you? Your research would be lost forever! Don’t you want Typhros to continue to be cured beyond just what benefits you?”

Essek huffs, as if he couldn't fathom why Verin would be so worried about it. "I have my notes, maybe Caleb would be able to use them if something happened to me. If he could even retrieve them." Essek snuffs the illusion he had been playing with, his next words angry, but not at Verin. "The cure for Typhros was not discovered because I am some incredible unseen prodigy or because I was chosen by your god, it would have been discovered much sooner if the Queen had not kept the beacons for herself so greedily. Imagine what arcanists would have been able to do already if they had been given access to one, ever. If I were to die and my notes were lost, a new cure would be discovered in weeks if she just let people actually work." When Essek was not burying himself in his work, he was playing a complex game of politics. In this case, he was poking at Leylas pride by keeping the cure for himself. If she wanted to come after him, she would have to liberate the knowledge of the beacons to more people. If she wanted to keep him working, she would have to give him access to it.

Verin’s face scrunches up in the way it often does when he and his brother argue morals or ethics. “But what about all the people who will die while you play the long game? Hundreds could be cured, if not thousands, if you shared your knowledge. You could teach others to replicate it, or help some personally! Do you not think it cruel to withhold such a cure from our people?” He argues back, voice soft but urgent. Politics mean very little to him beyond what he must indulge in for his job, and he’s always had issue with politics interrupting true progress. In a way, that makes him very alike to his brother. The same idea, just with different approaches.

"And what good would it do for people to have instructions for a cure they cannot replicate without a beacon? To watch their loved ones suffer knowing they could be cured if their Queen stopped amassing some rock she calls a god? Do you really think if that gets out that someone else will not try to steal one?" It was good their mother was not around to listen to him. He was bothered, a bit of desperation bleeding out of him as he remembered why he even stole a beacon in the first place. "Besides, Typhros is not fatal. People who have it die only because their Queen orders them too." He knows that well. Their mother did not die peacefully in bed, she died as he drove a dagger into her heart. Unconsciously, he wipes his hands on his robes, as if they were dirty with something. "I have... Studied to create an artificial beacon, if we cannot find one ourselves. But it will not be useful for this."

Verin shoots his brother a sharp warning glare at his calling the beacon a ‘rock’. “Maybe if this knowledge was revealed to the public, her majesty would have no choice but to allow further research, lest it be stolen again. At the very least, it would give the people some hope.” He thinks of all the people he’s had to send home from the field for having Typhros. All the sick he’s condemned to execution for something they cannot control and all the family members he’s had to console. If he could alleviate even a fraction of their pain, he would in an instant, no matter the consequences. Perhaps that makes him foolish. “Typhros may not kill the body, but it kills the mind and the soul. Besides, can you really be considered living if you’ve lost everything that makes you who you are?” He looks affronted by the idea of an artificial beacon, scoffing. “I doubt anything artificial could match the power of a true beacon, though. Pure divinity like that cannot be replicated.”

Essek looks as if he is going to say something, but then closes his mouth considering Verin's words, scrunching his nose as he thinks. Essek was thinking of restricting the cure for now so people wouldn't cause unrest, but maybe that is exactly what he needed. A sharp smile spreads across his face, the type he puts on when a dangerous idea ignites in his head. "Your mind may be fitted for the battlefield, but it is clear why you are not a mere soldier, Verin. I will ask Uraya for help." That was Essek's way of calling him intelligent. Sometimes he got too focused on a single point and needed someone to see it and reel him back. He may know about secrets and magic and spionage, but Verin knew about people, and society, and how any advancements or drawback rippled through the population. Essek does nod at Verin's concern over the mind. "It is a very cruel fate to have your mind tattered indeed. I... Have had my brushes with magics that alter the mind, and it is indeed awful. Thankfully it seems things get much better after it is cured." Essek raises his head proud at Verin's distaste. "Pure divinity was consecuted through an articial beacon in a person's head, I am sure it could handle a mortal." He seemed excited by the idea, his ears peaking up a little. There was so much more about it he could share.

Verin looks like a fish out of water at Essek’s compliment, torn between disbelief and pride. Of all the things Essek praised him for, his intelligence was rarely one of them. He grins at the compliment, but the sharp smile on Essek’s face feels a bit.. off, almost dangerous. He decides to ignore it in favor of basking in the praise, much like he ignores Essek’s heretical talk regardless of how excited he seems over it. He never quite understands Essek’s more theoretical arcane talk, and part of him doesn’t want to. He’s relied on the Luxon for guidance and hope in his darkest moments, and the thought that it might all be a lie is.. unfathomable, unacceptable. He’d rather live with senseless hope than all-consuming despair. Verin brushes past his brother and into the balcony, where he brushes his fingers along the ornate patterns lining their mother’s telescope. “Did you bring the magic key thingy?”

Essek turns to the balcony too, getting a good look at the telescope too. He had always found it fascinating, but he had barely used it since their mother got him one for one of his early birthdays. He nods, sneaking a hand past the collar of his robes and pulling out the key in a chain around his neck, unclasping it and holding it out. "Do you want to do the honours?" If it was anyone else, Essek would have been the one to walk directly to the telescope, insert the key and bask in what it showed, but Verin was his little brother, and their mother had taught him to share things with him.

While awfully tempting to unlock their family’s secrets himself, Verin shakes his head and reaches out to place his hand over Essek’s. “Why don’t we do it together? It’s both of our family, after all.” He smiles, soft and welcoming, despite the two of them arguing mere minutes earlier.

Essek almost throws a jab at him, the same way how, when they were younger, Essek would lie to him and tell him their mother actually found him in a box, but he realizes the moment is not right for it. Instead, he nods, testing with his fingers where the keyhole was, then moving both of their hands to push the key into it, holding his breath for what may happen.

The air is alight with gentle waves of magic wafting from the arcane torches along the wall. It makes Verin’s eyes water, almost like pollen on the breeze, but he’s able to push past and continue downwards. With each steps, more torches light themselves, and the walls are shown to be painted with intricate murals depicting every umavi of their family, centuries upon centuries before their time. The stairs go on for ages, until finally they pass a painted image of their mother and reach a room, barren with nothing around except for a large door, intricate and ornate as the rest of the estate and triple their height at least.

Essek starts getting that feeling in the back of his head when he saw a grandiose place, and he knew there was not enough time in the world for him to explore it fully, committing to memory as much as he could to write things down in his notebooks later. Seeing the door, Essek approaches carefully, trying to push it open. Even if Verin was thought to be the impulsive one, Essek was always the one pushing the big red button when it came to these types of things.

Verin reaches out to his brother with half the mind to stop him from rushing in so quickly, but he stops himself with a sigh. Essek wouldn’t stop even if he asked him to, so there’s no point in trying. The door, upon Essek’s touch, does not open. Instead, a handful of constellations light up upon its surface, though each is incomplete or incorrect. Verin immediately groans. “Don’t tell me it’s a damn puzzle..”

Verin snorts at the memory, but is looking around with just as much awe. “I always told you there were secrets down here somewhere.” He pays little attention to the bookshelves, for now at least, and instead starts looking at the first armor set he can find, flipping through the book on the lectern in front of it. “Woah.. this armor belonged to our great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, thousands of years ago..”

The tome is entirely in an older, more traditional version of Undercommon, with most of the spells being obsolete nowadays, but a few here and there with actual promise that were forgotten by time. Meanwhile, Verin carefully sets the greatsword back into its case and moves on to look at the next item, a shield inlaid with dozens of gems, most likely used for quick material access for spellcasting. “Are you suggesting I use my position and my faith to interrogate a group of believers?” He hesitates for a brief moment, but sighs. “I suppose there’s no harm in just asking a few questions. Do you know where they’re located or how I might get into contact with them?”

Essek takes time to slot into his mind the ideas of someone that once had the same passions as he does now, though with the tools of their time, fascinated by their work as if it was an old masterpiece. He wondered if this might have been someone's spellbook at some point. "I am suggesting you check on a group of worshippers that do not accept the authority of the Bright Queen." An excuse that would look good on paper. "Last time I contacted them they were established near Byroden in Tal'Dorei. I can show you in a map later."

Verin pauses, thinking for a long moment over whether or not that excuse would work.. the paperwork would be a struggle, but he should be able to swing it. “Hm.. I think I can manage it. Are you wanting to come along, or do you have questions you want me to ask?” He turns away from the wall of relics, facing his brother and the sea of books. “‘Cause if you want to come along, you’d have to tone down the blasphemy. A lot.”

Essek looked quite small next to the sea of knowledge that the archive kept, like when they were children and he would skip dinner because he was in the library and their mother would send Verin to see what Essek was doing. When Verin gives him the warning, though, he smiles like a little devil. "I can behave. But yes, I would like to come along. I would like to make them very technical questions." He hums, shelving the book and picking up another one, about history this time. "Did you know that they have a beacon? I first tried to ask them to reasearch them but they had some very strong words in return."

Verin scoffs with a roll of his eyes, all too used to his brother’s lack of social skills. “They’re not going to be happy to see you again, then. Are you sure you want to come? You might end up pissing them off more than you already have if you come.” He runs his fingers along the spines of the books before smirking and turning a few around so their pages face outwards. Just to piss off Essek. “Not that I don’t want you to come. I just don’t want you getting us into any additional trouble.”

"They never even saw me the first time, they just received a curious message from someone." Essek was going to thumb through the book in his hands, but then he stared in horror as Verin started messing with the books. It was worse than any betrayal or treason. With a gesture of his hand, he pulls the books back out, turns them around and slots them back in facing the way they should. "I will not get us into trouble, I can play nice. I can fool people into thinking I am a believer well enough."

Verin pouts as Essek uses magic to simply put the books back where they belong, shooting him a glare. “That’s not fair..” He grumbles, but stops his rampage and instead uses the bookshelves to lea against. “Can you? Every time the Luxon is brought up, you get this look on your face like you are a lemon. Covered in poison.” He picks out a book at random and starts thumbing through it with little interest. He dog-ears a page that looks mildly intriguing.

Essek just smiles smugly at pissing off his brother, proud of his little trick. He was not going to tell Verin that magic so specific was hard to pull off. "I can be very convincing." He puts on the same puppy eyed face he would do at the Queen when she went on about how disastrous the missing beacons were, or when he wanted to ask their mother for some new expensive device. "I can do it for my little brother, even if it would pain me greatly. Perhaps the anguish will just sell it better. Beside, I like to think of myself more like those colorful mushrooms. Friendly looking and highly poisonous." His face drops to outright disgust when Verin fold the little corner, complete with a sound and everything.

Verin gives Essek an unimpressed look at his puppy-dog eyes, primarily because he remembers how he’d use that look to avoid punishment after sticking Verin to a ceiling or worse. “Friendly looking? You’ve got the worst resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.” He flicks Essek’s forehead and smirks. “But it would be really fun to see you try and pull off being a believer, so I’m in.” He flicks through a few more pages and dog-ears two more before putting it back on the shelf.. in the wrong place. Out of order. It’s hard to tell if he’s doing this on purpose to piss Essek off or if he’s genuinely just.. like this.

"My face is the best resting bitch face." He huffs, shoving past Verin to reorganize the books correctly, by hand this time. He had even forgotten he had been holding one. There was nothing that pissed him off more than a disorganized library. How were people supposed to find information if they had to go through the hurdle of also finding the books they needed. "I know the prayers, I have the paraphernalia. I will do such a good job that you will believe I have actually been a believer all along."

Verin scoffs, purposely elbowing his brother as he shoves past. “With how vehemently you’ve been against the Luxon, I don’t think you could convince of your faith with even the strongest of spells.” He looks at the other titles on the nearly shelf, but shows little interest. He does smile at the idea of putting jam in one, though… just to infuriate his brother and his ancestors.

Essek rubs at where Verin struck, almost going through the motions of casting a spell against him just out of instinct, but the energy fizzles in his hands as he remembers he cannot be doing that anymore. Instead he just throws some curses at Verin that their mother would demand to know where he even learned them from. “Perhaps not you, because you know the truth. Do I have to fool some priest before you believe I can act my part? You forget that I was the Shadowhand sometimes.” He leaves his own book where he found it.

Verin sticks his tongue out at Essek. Childish, as always. “And you say I swear too much..” He starts walking down the aisle of books, eyes scanning the spines for anything relating to poetry or polearms. “I believe you can play the part, I’m just baffled by your willingness to act like a believer, even for your pursuit of knowledge.”

Essek sticks his tongue back at him, a wholly undignified look. "Because you do." He follows Verin, though his scanning being related to subjects like dunamancy or astrology. Who would tell these people from the past how much things have changed? That even the moons in the sky are not what they think? He has a tought to also look for books on divinity, the older the better. "Well, acting is not the same as reality. Besides, false worship is blasphemous, remember?"

“Hypocrite.” Verin throws a centuries-old book at his brother in an archive full of priceless relics and infinite knowledge. “I suppose so, but even false worship can power a god, no?” He spots an old prayer book, funnily enough, and snatches it up, thumbing through it with a half-interested hum. It’s a bit harder to read, given the archaic version of Undercommon, but the words themselves are poignant.

Essek barely catches it with a mage hand, flinching back as he does. "Verin! I am telling mother you are disrespecting the den's heirlooms when she comes back." He was absolutely going to snitch on him. After the mage hand puts the book back, it slaps him on the back of his head before disappearing. Essek, on his part, grabs an old, old tome from the shelf. It was an essay on the gods and, as he pages through it, he counts just how many the writing mentions. "If it did, the Betrayers would just make farms of false worship. To my knowledge, only Asmodeus does that sometimes." Essek had zero qualms when talking about it, as if they could not smite him where he stood.

“Wha—hey, that’s not fair! I’m telling mother you’re swearing up a storm in the den archives, thus disrespecting the family name.” Verin retorts, crossing his arms defiantly, but the slap to his head has him whining. He rub the back of his head and grumbles, glaring at Essek with all the rage he can muster. Which isn’t much. It’s hard to get him truly angry.

"Is she going to believe that her proper, well behaved son would do something like that? I do not even know any curses, Verin." He smirks knowing full well he could sway their mother's punishment. Even if he denied it, he acted like he was her favourite. After not finding what he was searching for, he leaves the book once more, stepping back to take in just how much knowledge had been stored under their house all this time. "Knowing I only had one lifetime mother could have let me into her secret sooner..."

Verin glares daggers at his brother. “And you say you’re not the favorite child.” He shoves Essek into the bookshelf, toppling a few books in the process. He wanders further, mainly just walking around to keep from staying in one place. He hates standing still. “Maybe the whole point was to convince you to consecute yourself by showing you all this stuff.” He gestures vaguely around the place while walking backwards, but stops abruptly when he nears the center contraption. He clutches his chest and a hiss, as if having a heart attack, and quickly scrambles away from the thing.

Essek lets out a noise of frustration, having to control all self control he had to not blast Verin across the room. It was not fair that he couldn’t use his own abilities against him while Verin could just shove him around. When they get his magic aversion resolve he was going to pin him to the ground for hours. “I would sooner die a painful death and be tortured for all of eternity that ever become consecuted.” He sughs and, even through his frustration, goes grab his brother to drag him away. “You need to be more careful, you cannot die in such a stupid way.”

Verin scoffs at his brother’s chiding, but his focus is on the device in the center of the room. His expression is one of both confusion and haunting familiarity. He stares, not speaking, for a whole minute before he turns and starts walking back towards the exit. “Well should leave.” He says sternly, posture rigid and strangely guarded as if readying for battle. “You saw everything you wanted, right? There’s no need to loiter.”

Essek frowns at Verin’s sudden change of demeanour, looking between him and the device. If it was anything else, it may not have been weird to see that look of recognition from his brother, but this was a magic artifact, not a weapon or armour. So, he estands his ground. He felt like his brother didn’t want him to continue looking around. “Verin, what is in the device?” It was phrased as a question, but he was telling Verin to tell him, not giving him room to not do so.

Verin shakes his head and does not stop walking. If anything, his pace speeds up minutely. “I don’t know, but..” He rubs at his chest. He can feel it tightening and bile creeping up his throat. “Something feels wrong. We should leave. Ask mother about what the hell is down here or something, but we should be anywhere but here.”

Essek hangs back, crossing over his chest, thinking if what he should do. He knew he should follow Verin out and ask their mother later about it, but he was a fool, and too curious for his own good. He does not miss the feeling as the hair at the back of his neck stands up, as if he is going to make a big mistake. “I am staying. I need to see this.”

Vern finally stops in his tracks, whirling around to face Essek with a look of both frustration and worry. “Essek, no.” He takes a few steps towards his brother, even when everything in him is screaming at him to run. “Don’t be an idiot, not when I know you know better.” He extends a hand towards his brother, almost pleading. “I will drag you out if I have to.”

"Do not get closer, you will get hurt." Essek doesn't move though, staring at the device, his expression twitching as if he was deciding what to do. Even after what he had done and learned, he could not resist that pull that knowledge had on him. "What if this could help you? What if you could come out of here cured?" Verin had seen the slightly manic look in his brother's eyes, the type where his mind was quickly spiraling down into unwise decisions and obsessing over finding answers. "I just need ten minutes, to know what it does. And then we can leave." Unless he found out it was something really interesting.

Verin shakes his head and disobeys Essek’s command, stepping closer. He can’t let his brother do this. “No. We can’t afford what-ifs, Essek. You can’t afford them. You are a father now, remember? You can’t be reckless like this, not when you have a family that relies on you.” He walks closer until he can reach Essek, grabbing his wrist. “We can’t always come back, but we should know what we’re getting into first.”

Essek looks down at where Verin has grabbed his wrist, almost offended that he didn't seem to listen to what he was saying. Then, he looks back at Verin, stern, but not pulling away. "My life has been what-ifs since I was born until this moment. Every day I go to rest thinking about what if your Queen decided to retire my pardon, or a volstrucker managed to hunt me down, or I would wake up to a message that you had been killed for something I did not manage to fix quick enough." There was something strong beneath the last scenario, an 'again' that he didn't say outloud. "Would our mother hide anything truly dangerous under the house where her two new soul children live?"

Verin’s grip only tightens on Essek’s wrist, his desperation growing. “But this is a needless risk, Essek, one that you can’t be taking now that you have a child!” He argues, tugging on Essek’s wrist in hopes of coaxing him away. “Maybe, I don’t know. That machine is encasing it, so maybe it’s not dangerous now, but fucking around with it and opening it up probably isn’t a good idea.”

Essek's eyes soften ever so slightly at Verin's desperation, and his words. He knew if something happened to him, Liliana would be in good hands, so he did not worry about her in that sense. And he was not scared of his brother mourning him, it would happen sooner or later, he was afraid that he would get angry at him. But the strong dunamantic energy and his brother's recognition of it did not sit well in him. He lowers his head a little and, just as it looks that he is going to give up on it, he weaves his fingers in the direction of the device to cast Locate Object, one of the most rudimentary spells in his book. The chance was very slim, but he was testing if the device held a Beacon in it.

Verin is quick to catch his brother, grabbing both his arms to steady him. Essek’s words have his eyes wide and he can’t speak for a moment, then shakes his head. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?” He looks between Essek and the contraption. His mind is made up, and he starts dragging Essek towards the exit. “Nope, nope, nope—we need answers before we go anywhere near it.”

Essek doesn't put up a fight anymore, following Verin with the uncharacteristic sound of steps following his movement. His raises his hand towards his mouth as his mind tries to make sense of it, nibbling at the knuckles of his finger until he draws blood. "We cannot tell anyone that it's here." Did the Queen know? Or their mother? Was that what the volstruckers were actually after? When did their family even acquired it? There were so many questions that were too dangerous to ask. "We need to make it untraceable. We need--lead, a lead casing." It was like finding a bomb underneath their childhood home.

Verin gets Essek outside the room and shuts the huge door with a loud bang, then returns to his brother’s side. “Essek, hey, hey—“ He gently pulls Essek’s hands from his face, using his cape to dab away the blood. “Shh, hold on, it’s okay.” He might not feel too confident himself, but looking at Essek, he knows he needs to be strong for him. “It’s been down here and the house has been fine, right? Let’s just settle down and we’ll talk to mother and figure it out.”

Essek hisses as he sees the blood, not having noticed he had bitten down so far. It was impossible to know which of his concerns he should voice first, but as Verin mentions their mother, he shakes his head. "No, we cannot tell mother. Not now. She is still sick. If she says anything it could be catastrophic." He pushes down all the anger that was beginning to boil inside of him. They had a beacon under their house all this time. "Mother has been keeping a beacon from the Queen. If she caused a war for two missing for a few months, the hells would tremble if she found out her best friend had hidden one from her." Essek passes a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. There were little times in his life where he had felt so in danger. "We have to be cautious. And quick. I doubt those volstruckers were meant to cause a distraction now."

Verin searches through the pouch he keeps around his waist, usually for battle emergencies, and pulls out a small healing potion. He pours it over Essek’s bite wounds to heal them. “Why are you so sure the Queen doesn’t know? I mean.. mother told the Queen everything. Even all our embarrassing childhood bullshit!” He tries to lighten the mood. It doesn’t quite work. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all this! In fact..” He glances back at the archive they just exited. “Maybe there’s something in there that tells us why it’s there?” He looks at his brother again and frowns. “Later, though. We need a break.”

Essek thinks about pulling away when Verin goes to use a whole healing potion on him for just a bite, but he doesn't want to add more worries to his brother. So he just lets him, watching the wounds close and prestidigitating away any remnants of it once the effect is over. He hated the feeling of it on his skin. "Maybe she knows, but it doesn't make sense. I have never seen any records of it." He almost goes on to bite at his finger again, but catches himself and instead runs his hand across the embroidery of his robe. But he nods. They needed to look into it further. "Let's have a break, then. But we need to figure this out."

Verin nods, hooking his arm through his brother’s for stability before starting to make his way back up the long, winding staircase. “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this, no need to worry.” He assures, but the words sound hollow even to him. When they eventually reach the top again, Verin sits Essek down on their mother’s bed and sends his echo out to get them some water. “I still think we should talk to mother, though. She’ll know better than anyone what’s going on.”

Essek allows Verin to guide him, decorum being the only thing keeping him from flopping on the bed. There were very few times where he had slept in their mother's bed as a child, but it was still as comfortable as he remembered. "I... Guess we can ask her. If it goes wrong there are ways to fix it." He pats the spot at his side for Verin to sit with him. He felt guilty that Verin had been stepping up to console him so many times lately, as if he was a child that could not control himself.

Verin checks over Essek one more time, smoothing his hair back from his eyes, before taking a seat with a sigh. There’s a lot to process from just this one day alone. “Mother is strong, remember? She can handle a few questions. It either that or we go back down there and look for answers ourselves.” Verin, unlike Essek, has little to no decorum and flops back into the bed like a marionette with its strings cut.

Essek doesn't follow, but he does pull his legs under himself so he can turn to face Verin. "I know she is. She is honestly the only one I am not worried about." He sighs, pulling back his hair as if in a ponytail and, as he presses his hand to it. Even without a ribbon, the hair stays as he lets go. "I overreacted, I fear. But what worries me is the political implications of it. Either the Queen does not know, or she knows and for some reason does not keep a record of it." He props his chin on his hand, looking around the room. "I would like to go back down, but I also do not wish for it to hurt you. It may just be contained there, yes. But what if it is a device to amplify its effect? It could hurt you." As he thinks about it, he lets out a small nervous laugh. "I would not wish to explain mother how her son died because we were snooping around."

Verin watches Essek put his hair up and wishes, not for the first time, that he could use magic. Without having to learn it, of course. He finds magic lessons terribly boring. “Our den has been good friends with her majesty for centuries.. it’s unlikely they’ve kept this a secret from her. Not impossible, sure, but I wouldn’t freak out just yet.” He reaches up to boop Essek’s nose, as if that will assuage his fears. “You.. have a point. We could just try and find information first, like a manual or record or something.” He drags a hand down his face, which scrunches up in thought. “Don’t libraries usually have some sort of record of everything inside them? I guess in our case it’s more like a museum, but still.”

Essek raises an eyebrow at the boop, raising his hand confused as to why his brother was like that. "Maybe, but then it raises another question as to why the Queen would hide it from anyone else." He smoothes out his robes, making sure they were properly tucked inside of his hip wrap. "Most of them do, yes. The good ones do at least. I could try locating some kind of ledger, but without knowing the specifics of the object it would be kind of hard."

Verin shrugs and turns to flop on his stomach instead. “Well.. we did have one beacon stolen.” He gives his brother a look. “So hiding another one somewhere no one knows about would be a good idea.” He nudges his brother’s knee with the cold, armored boot. “You do know you don’t have to use magic for everything, right? We can just.. look. With our eyes. If the ledger holds information for the entire archive, then it’s bound to be out somewhere so it can be edited frequently.”

Essek puff out his chest at Verin's little jab. While he regretted the consequences that his actions had, if things had turned out different, he would be inmensely proud of the heist itself. "And look at how that turned out." He pushes Verin's foot away, towards the edge of the bed, even if he could not do much against Verin's muscular and armored leg. "The ledger for the Cobalt Soul is so hidden it gets lost sometimes. Magic just makes things easier." He pauses. "Also, I like it."

Verin rolls his eyes, but stops kicking his brother, at least. For now. “There’s nothing wrong with liking magic, but you can’t always rely on it.” He remembers all the times in battle he’s fought spellcasters who relied so heavily on magic they didn’t know what to do when a physical battle came along. He knows his brother is smarter and more skilled than that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry. “Do you want to look for the ledger now, or do you need a break?”

"Not all of us were blessed with bodies that will not snap at the lightest forms of physical activity. Besides, you are only obsessed with it because it is your line of work, I could say the same to you about learning magic." Essek scoffs, not bothered at all that his little brother grew up to be broader and taller than him while he could get a sprained ankle just by walking down stairs. Not at all bothered. "Let's go look for it before mother gets back. I have barely spent any of my energy today anyway." He stands from the bed, putting his boots back on and recasting his floating cantrip.

Verin slinks off of the bed and stretches, fixing his hair real quick before starting to head back towards the balcony. “Come on then, dalninuk, the night is young!” He forces cheer to make the situation seem less, well.. dire. Surely, if he’s optimistic enough, things will turn out fine. Surely. “I only have a few hours before I’m needed back in Bazzoxan, so let’s hope this doesn’t take too long.” He starts hopping down the stairs three at a time.

Essek chuckles at that, shaking his head as he floats down the stairs behind him. "Do not say that, now it will surely take long." While they descend, he pulls out his spellbook once more, flipping through a few pages as he checked some things. He almost bumps into Verin at some point, his habit of forgetting to look forward having not died down, it seems. "If it is a beacon down there, once we fix what is wrong with your magic aversion, we could get you consecuted again." Consecution didn't work like that, he knew, but the believers seemed to think the theatrics were necessary.

When Verin feels Essek bump into his back, he’s quick to shoot a glare behind him and flip him off.. as a warning, of course. If it happens again, he’s going to throw his brother down the stairs, magic be damned. But the mention of being consecuted once more is enough to perk him right back up, eyes brightening. “You really think so? Do you know how to consecute people?” He asks excitedly, but it fades just as quickly as he shakes his head. “Nono, being consecuted without the Queen’s blessing goes against the Luxon’s teachings and Dynasty law. But it’s a nice thought.”

Essek had not even noticed his brother's response with his head burried in his book, just muttered something that might have been an apology. Might have. "I do, it is one of the rituals available through Dunamancy, though less flashy." He only pays attention to where he was when they reached the door once more, starting to open it again. "If it is the Luxon that allows consecution, wouldn't their acceptance of it override the Bright Queen's jurisdiction?" It was those types of questions that would get him in trouble as a kid, those times being some of the only ones their mother would get actually mad at him.

As they step back into the archive, Verin takes a deep breath and rests his hand on the hilt of his backup shortsword. It’s not his usual glaive or polearm, but it’ll do in an emergency. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it. “If I was to operate outside of her majesty’s guidance, I fear the Luxon would reject my consecution entirely. Even if it did work, it would be against the law and against my honor code as a knight of the Aurora Watch.”

Essek scrunches his nose, as if Verin's strict beliefs were rarer than a two eyed beholder. "I will never understand you holy people." If he was in Verin's situation, he would just seize the opportunity and override whatever the Bright Queen said. She was just a woman that said she spoke for a god. As they make their way inside, Essek dips a hand into one of his pockets then rubs his eyelids with something, casting True Sight on himself. It looks like his irises became slightly translucent, which was admittedly a bit creepy, but as the spell takes effect he looks around to see if they had missed anything.

"Ah, there we go." Essek heads straight for it, passing right next to the device as if unconsciously flaunting that he could. He looks around as he approaches, taking in anything that might peak his interest. Once he is right in front of it, he leans in to discern if it was what they were searching for, grabbing the edges of his waist wrap to keep himself from reaching out to it. For now.

Verin shoots his brother a glare, not that the other can see it, when he walks next to the device. Verin gives the contraption a wide berth, but even then he still shudders at the wave of dizziness that washes over him. He manages to pass without further issue, though, and walks as far away as he can. When they reach the book, Verin peaks over Essek’s shoulder to read. The pages are filled with lists of books and relics and a brief description of each item.. and the words glint faintly with magic. When touched, a magic image of the item would appear.

Essek starts flipping through the book, learning that the images pop up the hard way by touching one accidentally and getting spooked ever so lightly. From then on he just hovers his hand over the page to keep track of where he was on the list, almost like an Aeormaton with how mechanical he was being. Not that Verin had met one, most likely. He will only come to a stop once he finds it or he is done with the whole book.

Verin bites back a snort at seeing Essek spooked, but besties that is quiet as he watches his brother. The book is thick, filled to the brim with item and item, and Verin struggles to pay attention.. he’s never been good at sitting still and waiting. But eventually, the title ‘Beacon Container’ is found, accompanied by the image of the contraption. But unlike the other relics on the list, there is very little detail other than the date acquired — centuries ago by now — and a note that reads: ‘Keep hidden and mention to no one, on command of her majesty. The people cannot know.’

Essek lets out a sigh at that, looking over the image. “Well, at least there is that.” He scoffs, infinitely annoyed by the Dynasty’s obsession of being as cague as possible. He understood not telling anyone, but even in their ledger, really? “So, no mentions as to why this is here aside from keeping it a secret. It does not mention to be anything other than a container, though, so maybe I could take a look.”

Verin grimaces and crosses his arms, still quite hesitant. “I still don’t think messing with it is a good idea, not when we still know so little.” He chews on his bottom lip in thought. “Maybe it’s best if we ask mother about it first?”

Essek has not noticed Verin's hesitance, his mind focused forwards in time. "Mother will still take some time to come back, one look can't hurt." He looks back at the machine. "Besides, we do not know how to even open it. We can look into that. Or I can, you can be around in case something happens."

Verin sighs, clearly still not on board, but resigned to the fact that he can’t persuade Essek once his mind is set on something. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chews at his bottom lip nervously, torn between what his instincts are teling him and what his brother wants.

"It will be fine, just do not stand too close." Essek heads towards the device, intent on checking the runes that surrounded it once more. Now that he knew it was meant to be some kind of storage device, he was trying to gauge if any of the runes in it seemed out of place for its function. He knew it was probably activated by the lever that came out from it, but he wanted first to make sure there wasn't anything amiss in how it worked.

With Identify cast, the runes shine crimson for a brief moment, as if warning against further inspection, before the answers come to Essek in a rush. This device is not only meant to hide the Beacon from those seeking to steal it, but to contain the dangerous and unstable power within. The stray rune implies that the Beacon it holds is, in some way, defective and malfunctioning.

Essek groans, mumbling to himself as he straightens up. He jots the new discoveries down, walking back to Verin as he does. Whatever he found, he resigned himself to not continue his research. "That is enough. Let's go ask mother, hopefully that will clear some things up. I do not have the energies to spend to find out more today." He closes his tome and throws his book up, letting it dissapear.

Verin visibly relaxes the second Essek turns away from the device. “Yes, let’s.” He says, clearly relieved that they’re not conducting experiments of any kind. He’s not sure what he would’ve, or could’ve really, done if Essek ended up hurting himself in the process. He’s already walking towards the exit before Essek can reach him.

Essek glides behind him, accelerating his pace a bit to catch up to him. If Verin looked, he would see that his brother was concentrated on something, biting just very lightly at his bottom lip. Enough that Verin could tell with the years of experience of knowing him, but not enough that anyone else could. He was running through the possibilities of why a corrupted beacon was under their house, and what it meant. He had already heard of something similar from the Bright Queen, a beacon corrupted by the Spider Queen. Maybe it was something like that. Instead, he voices a much lighter thought. "Does my floating cantrip make you sick when I am near you?"

Verin watches his brother closely in silence as they head towards the exit, simultaneously trying to figure out what’s going on in that mind of his and making sure the other is alright. Beacons are a sensitive subject for them both, after all. But Essek’s question catches him off guard, and he blinks dumbly for a few seconds before replying. “Your.. floating cantrip? No, not really. I feel a bit of pressure in my chest when you first cast it or if you get too close, but nothing crazy.”

Essek nods, as if he was writing it down in the library that was his mind. As they come out of the archive, he is the one to close the door to it. With his hands, not magic. He goes before Verin up the stairs, hands neatly tucked beneath his cloak. "Maybe you are just used to it. What do you think is afflicting you?" This was probably the first time Essek had asked about his theories on it and not about what happened. Maybe he was just exploring another avenue to find out what was happening, or maybe it related to what he had been pondering.

Verin looks at Essek funny when he closes the door by hand, confused as to why his brother, who relies on magic for just about everything from the mundane to the grand, would deign to close a heavy door by himself. He’s even more confused when Essek asks for his opinion oh his illness — in his mind, Verin isn’t skilled enough to try and theorize. “I.. don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about the specifics, more just about how to live with it. I sort of went past the understanding it and straight to the living with it.”

"That is understandable. You would wish to know how to navigate your life with it if you did not know how to get better." Essek doesn't say it with malice, just as an observation. "But I still think your opinion would be valuable, even if it is just a guess. Even if it ends up being something else. So, what do you think?" Once they are back outside, he waits for Verin by the telescope, giving it a spare glance with a tilt of his head.

Once they reach the balcony again, Verin hops up onto the railing and swings his legs over, gazing at the twinkling stars as if they may hold the answers he seeks. “A guess..” His face scrunches up in thought. “Maybe I interacted with some cursed artifact while on assignment and didn’t know it?”

Essek reaches out towards him, but quickly lets his hand drop with a huff when he realizes Verin is just sitting down. He had always been a bit anxious about his brother's recklessness, but being a father now had made him even more. He was going to turn greyer. "That is a good theory. An artifact powerful enough can work undetected. The Nein told me that Veth carried a cursed blade without them knowing for a while." He twists the key back out of the telescope, leaning on the railing next to Verin. "But even the most powerful artifacts can be dispelled. We will figure it out."

Verin sighs, looking up towards the beautiful night sky, eyes tracing the different constellations. “I know. I trust you to be able to figure it out. If anyone can solve this mystery of mine, it’s you.” He glances back at his brother with a small smile as he swings his legs back and forth like an overeager child.

Essek scoffs, straightening up as if he was insulted by the mere implication that he could not. But Verin knew better. Essek was flattered by it, raising his head proudly. "It is very hard to remain humble if you speak of me that way." He looks up at the stars, seeing in then less the mythical aspect of them and more the mathematics and physics he had found himself attracted to. He could fix Verin's problem, he just needed a stroke of inspiration.

Verin rolls his eyes, but the fond curl of his lips gives away his lack of true annoyance. “It’s not that hard, you’re just an egoist.” He elbows Essek, lightly this time, just to scold. He takes a moment to admire the sky a bit longer before swinging his legs back over the rail and hopping down. “Well, I should probably get going. I can’t be away from Bazzoxan too long, and I’d say my curiosities are satiated for the time being.”

“And you used to call me addicted to my work.” Essek returns the elbowing, much less effectively. He understood that there were differences between their labour, and that Verin’s was urgent and more immediately necessary, but they both were. Probably a side effect of their upbringing. “Alright, I will let you go to them. Do you wish me to wait formyou to ask mother about the beacon?”

Verin scoffs, already heading off the balcony. “Yes, well, we’re both workaholics, admittedly.” The two of them really could use a vacation. Or three, really, to catch up on all the time they’ve spent working their lives away. “No, you can go ahead. I trust you to relay the information. Besides, Mother is more likely to be honest with you than me.”

Essek follows to see him off as he always did before Verin returned to his station. He never missed the chance to say goodbye to him. "I am not a workaholic, I also knit sometimes." He had began to do that recently, a suggestion that had a high chance of coming from Caduceus. "I will continue with it, then. But do not doubt mother, though. She would answer if you asked too."

Verin scoffs as the two walk through the estate, avoiding the few sections still under repair. “Oh, yes, because knitting makes up for the dozens of hours straight you spend hunched over your spellbook like a shrimp.” The brothers soon reach the front door to the estate, which Verin exits out of before stopping by the small stable where the Den’s mounts are kept and retrieving his jet black mare. “Yes, I’m sure she would, but she more likely to give you more details than me.”

"It does. Instead I am bent for hours over a strand of yarn and some needles." Essek was not making it to 300 with a straight back, it seemed. Essek waves at Verin's horse, once more keeping his distance from it as he did. "That may be true. I will ask her, then relay anything important to you. Let's hope she decides to not be too difficult."

Verin shakes his head and slaps his brother on this back. “You’re going to need some posture correction before you’re 280, I swear..” Verin carefully strokes the mane of is beloved mare before starting to ready her for travel, putting on her saddle and reins. “Please, when has Mother ever made anything easy for us? I wish you luck.”

Verin’s gaze only blurs for a moment at the magic, smiling at the sound of his brother’s voice. He hurries over to the tree, his brow furrowing in concern at seeing Essek up in the tree. “Hey! Be careful up there!” He warns, but he’s grinning ear to ear the moment he realizes what Essek is doing. He can still find his name on the tree among their hundreds of ancestors. “Is little Lilliana with you?”

"I am careful!" Essek looks down at him with his hands on his hips, offended that Verin would suggest otherwise. Though it is short lived as he turns back to the name scribbled with magic on the bark, frustrated that he was not getting the results he wanted. This was usually done by an Umavi, and close to the name of the persons parents, but he was being a show-off. "Not with me, no. But she is with the servants inside. They are acting like they have never seen a baby in their lives." To be fair, Verin was the last child to come directly from the main line of den Thelyss, so it has been a hundred years since they last had one in the den.

Verin rolls his eyes at his brother’s attitude, but he can’t hide the fond smile that still creeps onto his face regardless. Rather than wait for Essek to finish. Verin grabs a branch and starts climbing up himself. Nostalgia washes over him, remembering well when he’d climb this tree over and over as a kid. Once he reaches the closest sturdy branch to Essek, he sits down and takes a look at Essek’s handiwork. “What’re you still working on? The engraving looks fine.” He runs his fingers over his and Essek’s old engraving, their mother’s calligraphy immaculate.

Essek looks at him as he climbs. As children, he would never be the one in the tree, he would be below yelling at Verin to climb down before he fell and hurt himself. The only time he did manage to climb a bit ended up with a sprained ankle and a request to their mother to buy him the scroll for Feather fall. He then huffs, tapping the engraving tool against his boot. "It's not...It is lacking something and I do not know what." Ah, Essek, ever the perfectionist.

The climb is considerably more difficult when wearing a suit of armor, but thankfully he’s trained enough now to handle the extra weight. He’s not sure if the branch with handle him for long, but.. it’s fine for now. Hopefully. He looks back over at Essek’s engraving and hums thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it’s ’cause Lilliana-Namid is different from the others on the tree. She’s not only a Dynasty child, but a Zemnian one too. It needs something.. Caleb-y. Maybe. I dunno.”

While it was incredibly impressive that Verin could haul his and his armour's weigh while climbing, Essek, being his brother, can't help but think he looks like a toddler climbing stairs bigger than him. He bites that down, though. "Do not fall. If you fall I cannot help you." Essek thinks hard on Verin's words, on what Caleb like could mean. Cats, obviously, but he was not going to add doodles to their den's tree as if he was a kid. Maybe he could add some zemniam framing around the name. He waves his hand, the illusion spreading into decorative designs of plants and flowers around it, things he has seen in the cover of Caleb's children's stories, but he doesn't seem to convince. "Perhaps... I could cast a spell on it so that it replays something when touched."

“I’m not gonna fall! Even if I do, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far of a drop.” Verin leans against the trunk of the tree, watching Essek work his magic, literally, much like he would when they were kids. “What would you replay, though? Some memory of Lilliana and Caleb? That would definitely be unique.. it won’t hurt the tree though, right?”

"If I have to tell mother that you fell from the tree again she is going to ask if we are back to being children." He seemed amused by the idea. He had always taken every chance to prove to their mother that they were, in fact, their children and not some souls she had given a body to. "It will not hurt it, no. It is just like a sticker of sorts, something that could be taken off it needed. A memory sounds nice, or perhaps a message. I could also leave the instruction for spells Caleb and I have built together so she will find them when she is older. So many options..." Essek's eyes move as he stares at the name, searching what he could condense in a single moment that will be remembered by anyone who touches the tree.

Verin rolls his eyes, but smiles all the same at the mental image of their mother, disappointed and bemused all at once, hearing about her sons’ chaos. He reaches up to run his fingers over Lilliana-Namid’s newly engraved name, humming in thought. “Well, what if you make it a memory of you and Caleb reading to Namid? That way she can hear both your voices again even after you’re gone.” His smile turns bittersweet. “And she’ll have a bedtime story from her dads that she can play for her children and her children’s children, for generations to come.”

Essek thinks about it. Namid, if she ever became consecuted, would be an outlier within their den, with her parents not being so. Verin and Essek temporarily lost their mother, and even then that was strange, but they grew up with the assurance that she would always be there. He doubted that even if consecution was offered to Caleb that he would accept it, so leaving something to her to remember them by was not such a bad idea. That and he loved the idea of engraving into their tree the fact that a human from the Empire made it into their family, a poke at their rigid ideals of what the den should be. "That sounds lovely, Verin." He nods, resolute in it, and floats the set of tools laying on the ground towards him so he can store the one he had been using. "I will tell Caleb, then. He has a better hand for these things than I do. Did I ever tell you his tower is full of books her remembers even though he has only read them once?"

Verin grins ear-to-ear when Essek praises his idea, always happy to help in any way he can. Though he is tempted to smack to toolkit out of the air when Essek floats it up.. he’s still his little brother, after all, but he decides against it and behaves. This time. “I can’t imagine ever reading enough books to fill a whole tower, especially not in a short lifespan like his was.. nerd.” He sighs, as if disappointed in his future brother-in-law for being so much like his brother. Verin was hoping for someone he could spar with, but if Caleb was limited to melee weapons only, Verin fears he’d ana the poor man in half. “Do you need any help getting down?”

Essek raises his chin as he did when he was proud of something. "He is a very diligent and studious man, I am sure he will do great things with the added time he will have now." Essek tucks the kit under his arm, a little clumsily getting his legs out from under him. "Hm, no." He grins and then just drops from the branch. Though, of course, no harm comes to him as he just floats down. Nothing else could be expected from the man that defied gravity daily.

Verin rolls his eyes, used to his brother’s pride but no more pleased with it. He follows Essek down, taking much longer to actually climb, of course, and lands next to him with a thump. “Well, now what? Are we finally going to take a look at whatever’s going on with mother’s telescope?” He reaches over to Essek to pick a leaf out of his hair, snickering at the sight of his high-and-mighty brother with leaves in his hair like an overgrown squirrel.

Essek looks at the leaf as if it had offended his whole family, passing a hand through his hair in case there were any other intruders in it with a huff. "Yes, finally. Curiosity has been eating me, let's go before I am fully devoured." He starts heading back to the house, matching Verin's speed. "Mother is having tea with Leylas, so we should have a few hours for ourselves."

Verin grazes his fingertips over the blossoms of the tallest flowers as they walk, gaze flitting between every beautiful gift of nature present in the garden. Growing up in the estate, the gardens were always his favorite part. He’d spend most of his childhood training, but when he wasn’t training or sleeping he was out here, playing make believe and getting caked in mud. “Tea with her majesty? Is the Queen feeling better?”

Essek seems content with merely looking around, taking his surroundings in like he had done since he was a child. Their mother used to joke that he stared at things so much he might need glasses. Which, he did, and never wore them, but he was not going to tell her that. "She is, from what I know she had returned to her duties fully already. In truth, the ritual for curing Typhros only exhausts individuals for a few days, though I guess getting reacquaintanced with ones soul must be a strange process. I think mother wants to ask her about it to be prepared."

Verin nods, focus returning to his brother as they enter the estate. “I see.. I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant experience. Are you sure it has no adverse effects?” He climbs the servant stairs, the main staircase still under construction, but doesn’t have to step over any gaps this time on the way to their mother’s room. “How do you know it won’t hurt Mother? I know I have no place to ask when you’re the expert, but.. you know. We just got her back.”

Essek follows, floating up the stairs with ease. There were still things that needed to be replaced or fixed, specially the paintings. "It should not hurt her, no. I had my doubts when working on Leylas, since it would be the first time I tried it, but it has proven to be harmless." He thinks on how to explain it, rubbing his chin as he worked on simplifying it. "Think of a soul as a pearl necklace. When consecution ocurs there is a period of time during a new life where pearls are added to it, but they are different sizes and of different origins. Add to that that passing through a beacon alters the structure of the necklace, twisting it and corrupting it, and you just have a tangled mess. The process of the cure is about untangling it. Nothing is getting removed or altered, just rearranged." As he speaks, he projects in his hand a simulation of what a soul looks like. It was almost like an atom, if Verin knew what that was. Essek had said many times that the reason why he refused consecution was because it messed with the soul, aside from any other heretic stuff, so perhaps this is what he meant.

Verin still looks… lost, but he does seem fascinated by the the projection. “Huh.. well, if that’s the case, then how long does your cure ‘untangle’ a soul? Could her majesty and mother develop Typhros again?” He asks as he pulls out a rings of keys to unlock and open the door to their mother’s room, still kept as clean and tidy as possible while still keeping most people out. “Do you have the steps of the cure written down, even? So that people can recreate it and cure more on a wider scale?”

Essek lets out a little hum as he thinks, probably running calculations in his head. "A few lifetimes, I would think, though there has never been anything like this so it is hard to say. Typhros is years worth of this tangling. Perhaps it would take the same time, perhaps less, or it may be individual to each person. But it will reocurr, it is a flaw native to consecution. The whole process, from a soul's standpoint, is barbaric. It is incredible it does not cause more issues. It is hard to research, though, since the whole process is full of secrecy." He was probably exaggerating, being talking freely like the heretic he was, but he seemed convinced on his phrasing, and his knowledge. Unaware of the effect his words may have, he glides into the room, looking for their mothers telescope. "No, I have not written it down, nor will I until my pardon is permanent and the Queen realizes her way of handling the research of Dunamancy is foolish. Without my title it is the only thing I can hold against her. But even if I wrote it down it would be hard to find other people able to perform it."

Verin grimaces at his brother’s.. harsh interpretation of consecution, but decides not to argue about it this time. They have bigger things to worry about, and he knows he won’t be able to change Essek’s mind anymore than Essek would be able to change his. “You don’t have it written down anywhere? But what if, Light forbid, something should happen to you? Your research would be lost forever! Don’t you want Typhros to continue to be cured beyond just what benefits you?”

Essek huffs, as if he couldn't fathom why Verin would be so worried about it. "I have my notes, maybe Caleb would be able to use them if something happened to me. If he could even retrieve them." Essek snuffs the illusion he had been playing with, his next words angry, but not at Verin. "The cure for Typhros was not discovered because I am some incredible unseen prodigy or because I was chosen by your god, it would have been discovered much sooner if the Queen had not kept the beacons for herself so greedily. Imagine what arcanists would have been able to do already if they had been given access to one, ever. If I were to die and my notes were lost, a new cure would be discovered in weeks if she just let people actually work." When Essek was not burying himself in his work, he was playing a complex game of politics. In this case, he was poking at Leylas pride by keeping the cure for himself. If she wanted to come after him, she would have to liberate the knowledge of the beacons to more people. If she wanted to keep him working, she would have to give him access to it.

Verin’s face scrunches up in the way it often does when he and his brother argue morals or ethics. “But what about all the people who will die while you play the long game? Hundreds could be cured, if not thousands, if you shared your knowledge. You could teach others to replicate it, or help some personally! Do you not think it cruel to withhold such a cure from our people?” He argues back, voice soft but urgent. Politics mean very little to him beyond what he must indulge in for his job, and he’s always had issue with politics interrupting true progress. In a way, that makes him very alike to his brother. The same idea, just with different approaches.

"And what good would it do for people to have instructions for a cure they cannot replicate without a beacon? To watch their loved ones suffer knowing they could be cured if their Queen stopped amassing some rock she calls a god? Do you really think if that gets out that someone else will not try to steal one?" It was good their mother was not around to listen to him. He was bothered, a bit of desperation bleeding out of him as he remembered why he even stole a beacon in the first place. "Besides, Typhros is not fatal. People who have it die only because their Queen orders them too." He knows that well. Their mother did not die peacefully in bed, she died as he drove a dagger into her heart. Unconsciously, he wipes his hands on his robes, as if they were dirty with something. "I have... Studied to create an artificial beacon, if we cannot find one ourselves. But it will not be useful for this."

Verin shoots his brother a sharp warning glare at his calling the beacon a ‘rock’. “Maybe if this knowledge was revealed to the public, her majesty would have no choice but to allow further research, lest it be stolen again. At the very least, it would give the people some hope.” He thinks of all the people he’s had to send home from the field for having Typhros. All the sick he’s condemned to execution for something they cannot control and all the family members he’s had to console. If he could alleviate even a fraction of their pain, he would in an instant, no matter the consequences. Perhaps that makes him foolish. “Typhros may not kill the body, but it kills the mind and the soul. Besides, can you really be considered living if you’ve lost everything that makes you who you are?” He looks affronted by the idea of an artificial beacon, scoffing. “I doubt anything artificial could match the power of a true beacon, though. Pure divinity like that cannot be replicated.”

Essek looks as if he is going to say something, but then closes his mouth considering Verin's words, scrunching his nose as he thinks. Essek was thinking of restricting the cure for now so people wouldn't cause unrest, but maybe that is exactly what he needed. A sharp smile spreads across his face, the type he puts on when a dangerous idea ignites in his head. "Your mind may be fitted for the battlefield, but it is clear why you are not a mere soldier, Verin. I will ask Uraya for help." That was Essek's way of calling him intelligent. Sometimes he got too focused on a single point and needed someone to see it and reel him back. He may know about secrets and magic and spionage, but Verin knew about people, and society, and how any advancements or drawback rippled through the population. Essek does nod at Verin's concern over the mind. "It is a very cruel fate to have your mind tattered indeed. I... Have had my brushes with magics that alter the mind, and it is indeed awful. Thankfully it seems things get much better after it is cured." Essek raises his head proud at Verin's distaste. "Pure divinity was consecuted through an articial beacon in a person's head, I am sure it could handle a mortal." He seemed excited by the idea, his ears peaking up a little. There was so much more about it he could share.

Verin looks like a fish out of water at Essek’s compliment, torn between disbelief and pride. Of all the things Essek praised him for, his intelligence was rarely one of them. He grins at the compliment, but the sharp smile on Essek’s face feels a bit.. off, almost dangerous. He decides to ignore it in favor of basking in the praise, much like he ignores Essek’s heretical talk regardless of how excited he seems over it. He never quite understands Essek’s more theoretical arcane talk, and part of him doesn’t want to. He’s relied on the Luxon for guidance and hope in his darkest moments, and the thought that it might all be a lie is.. unfathomable, unacceptable. He’d rather live with senseless hope than all-consuming despair. Verin brushes past his brother and into the balcony, where he brushes his fingers along the ornate patterns lining their mother’s telescope. “Did you bring the magic key thingy?”

Essek turns to the balcony too, getting a good look at the telescope too. He had always found it fascinating, but he had barely used it since their mother got him one for one of his early birthdays. He nods, sneaking a hand past the collar of his robes and pulling out the key in a chain around his neck, unclasping it and holding it out. "Do you want to do the honours?" If it was anyone else, Essek would have been the one to walk directly to the telescope, insert the key and bask in what it showed, but Verin was his little brother, and their mother had taught him to share things with him.

While awfully tempting to unlock their family’s secrets himself, Verin shakes his head and reaches out to place his hand over Essek’s. “Why don’t we do it together? It’s both of our family, after all.” He smiles, soft and welcoming, despite the two of them arguing mere minutes earlier.

Essek almost throws a jab at him, the same way how, when they were younger, Essek would lie to him and tell him their mother actually found him in a box, but he realizes the moment is not right for it. Instead, he nods, testing with his fingers where the keyhole was, then moving both of their hands to push the key into it, holding his breath for what may happen.

The air is alight with gentle waves of magic wafting from the arcane torches along the wall. It makes Verin’s eyes water, almost like pollen on the breeze, but he’s able to push past and continue downwards. With each steps, more torches light themselves, and the walls are shown to be painted with intricate murals depicting every umavi of their family, centuries upon centuries before their time. The stairs go on for ages, until finally they pass a painted image of their mother and reach a room, barren with nothing around except for a large door, intricate and ornate as the rest of the estate and triple their height at least.

Essek starts getting that feeling in the back of his head when he saw a grandiose place, and he knew there was not enough time in the world for him to explore it fully, committing to memory as much as he could to write things down in his notebooks later. Seeing the door, Essek approaches carefully, trying to push it open. Even if Verin was thought to be the impulsive one, Essek was always the one pushing the big red button when it came to these types of things.

Verin reaches out to his brother with half the mind to stop him from rushing in so quickly, but he stops himself with a sigh. Essek wouldn’t stop even if he asked him to, so there’s no point in trying. The door, upon Essek’s touch, does not open. Instead, a handful of constellations light up upon its surface, though each is incomplete or incorrect. Verin immediately groans. “Don’t tell me it’s a damn puzzle..”

Verin snorts at the memory, but is looking around with just as much awe. “I always told you there were secrets down here somewhere.” He pays little attention to the bookshelves, for now at least, and instead starts looking at the first armor set he can find, flipping through the book on the lectern in front of it. “Woah.. this armor belonged to our great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, thousands of years ago..”

The tome is entirely in an older, more traditional version of Undercommon, with most of the spells being obsolete nowadays, but a few here and there with actual promise that were forgotten by time. Meanwhile, Verin carefully sets the greatsword back into its case and moves on to look at the next item, a shield inlaid with dozens of gems, most likely used for quick material access for spellcasting. “Are you suggesting I use my position and my faith to interrogate a group of believers?” He hesitates for a brief moment, but sighs. “I suppose there’s no harm in just asking a few questions. Do you know where they’re located or how I might get into contact with them?”

Essek takes time to slot into his mind the ideas of someone that once had the same passions as he does now, though with the tools of their time, fascinated by their work as if it was an old masterpiece. He wondered if this might have been someone's spellbook at some point. "I am suggesting you check on a group of worshippers that do not accept the authority of the Bright Queen." An excuse that would look good on paper. "Last time I contacted them they were established near Byroden in Tal'Dorei. I can show you in a map later."

Verin pauses, thinking for a long moment over whether or not that excuse would work.. the paperwork would be a struggle, but he should be able to swing it. “Hm.. I think I can manage it. Are you wanting to come along, or do you have questions you want me to ask?” He turns away from the wall of relics, facing his brother and the sea of books. “‘Cause if you want to come along, you’d have to tone down the blasphemy. A lot.”

Essek looked quite small next to the sea of knowledge that the archive kept, like when they were children and he would skip dinner because he was in the library and their mother would send Verin to see what Essek was doing. When Verin gives him the warning, though, he smiles like a little devil. "I can behave. But yes, I would like to come along. I would like to make them very technical questions." He hums, shelving the book and picking up another one, about history this time. "Did you know that they have a beacon? I first tried to ask them to reasearch them but they had some very strong words in return."

Verin scoffs with a roll of his eyes, all too used to his brother’s lack of social skills. “They’re not going to be happy to see you again, then. Are you sure you want to come? You might end up pissing them off more than you already have if you come.” He runs his fingers along the spines of the books before smirking and turning a few around so their pages face outwards. Just to piss off Essek. “Not that I don’t want you to come. I just don’t want you getting us into any additional trouble.”

"They never even saw me the first time, they just received a curious message from someone." Essek was going to thumb through the book in his hands, but then he stared in horror as Verin started messing with the books. It was worse than any betrayal or treason. With a gesture of his hand, he pulls the books back out, turns them around and slots them back in facing the way they should. "I will not get us into trouble, I can play nice. I can fool people into thinking I am a believer well enough."

Verin pouts as Essek uses magic to simply put the books back where they belong, shooting him a glare. “That’s not fair..” He grumbles, but stops his rampage and instead uses the bookshelves to lea against. “Can you? Every time the Luxon is brought up, you get this look on your face like you are a lemon. Covered in poison.” He picks out a book at random and starts thumbing through it with little interest. He dog-ears a page that looks mildly intriguing.

Essek just smiles smugly at pissing off his brother, proud of his little trick. He was not going to tell Verin that magic so specific was hard to pull off. "I can be very convincing." He puts on the same puppy eyed face he would do at the Queen when she went on about how disastrous the missing beacons were, or when he wanted to ask their mother for some new expensive device. "I can do it for my little brother, even if it would pain me greatly. Perhaps the anguish will just sell it better. Beside, I like to think of myself more like those colorful mushrooms. Friendly looking and highly poisonous." His face drops to outright disgust when Verin fold the little corner, complete with a sound and everything.

Verin gives Essek an unimpressed look at his puppy-dog eyes, primarily because he remembers how he’d use that look to avoid punishment after sticking Verin to a ceiling or worse. “Friendly looking? You’ve got the worst resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.” He flicks Essek’s forehead and smirks. “But it would be really fun to see you try and pull off being a believer, so I’m in.” He flicks through a few more pages and dog-ears two more before putting it back on the shelf.. in the wrong place. Out of order. It’s hard to tell if he’s doing this on purpose to piss Essek off or if he’s genuinely just.. like this.

"My face is the best resting bitch face." He huffs, shoving past Verin to reorganize the books correctly, by hand this time. He had even forgotten he had been holding one. There was nothing that pissed him off more than a disorganized library. How were people supposed to find information if they had to go through the hurdle of also finding the books they needed. "I know the prayers, I have the paraphernalia. I will do such a good job that you will believe I have actually been a believer all along."

Verin scoffs, purposely elbowing his brother as he shoves past. “With how vehemently you’ve been against the Luxon, I don’t think you could convince of your faith with even the strongest of spells.” He looks at the other titles on the nearly shelf, but shows little interest. He does smile at the idea of putting jam in one, though… just to infuriate his brother and his ancestors.

Essek rubs at where Verin struck, almost going through the motions of casting a spell against him just out of instinct, but the energy fizzles in his hands as he remembers he cannot be doing that anymore. Instead he just throws some curses at Verin that their mother would demand to know where he even learned them from. “Perhaps not you, because you know the truth. Do I have to fool some priest before you believe I can act my part? You forget that I was the Shadowhand sometimes.” He leaves his own book where he found it.

Verin sticks his tongue out at Essek. Childish, as always. “And you say I swear too much..” He starts walking down the aisle of books, eyes scanning the spines for anything relating to poetry or polearms. “I believe you can play the part, I’m just baffled by your willingness to act like a believer, even for your pursuit of knowledge.”

Essek sticks his tongue back at him, a wholly undignified look. "Because you do." He follows Verin, though his scanning being related to subjects like dunamancy or astrology. Who would tell these people from the past how much things have changed? That even the moons in the sky are not what they think? He has a tought to also look for books on divinity, the older the better. "Well, acting is not the same as reality. Besides, false worship is blasphemous, remember?"

“Hypocrite.” Verin throws a centuries-old book at his brother in an archive full of priceless relics and infinite knowledge. “I suppose so, but even false worship can power a god, no?” He spots an old prayer book, funnily enough, and snatches it up, thumbing through it with a half-interested hum. It’s a bit harder to read, given the archaic version of Undercommon, but the words themselves are poignant.

Essek barely catches it with a mage hand, flinching back as he does. "Verin! I am telling mother you are disrespecting the den's heirlooms when she comes back." He was absolutely going to snitch on him. After the mage hand puts the book back, it slaps him on the back of his head before disappearing. Essek, on his part, grabs an old, old tome from the shelf. It was an essay on the gods and, as he pages through it, he counts just how many the writing mentions. "If it did, the Betrayers would just make farms of false worship. To my knowledge, only Asmodeus does that sometimes." Essek had zero qualms when talking about it, as if they could not smite him where he stood.

“Wha—hey, that’s not fair! I’m telling mother you’re swearing up a storm in the den archives, thus disrespecting the family name.” Verin retorts, crossing his arms defiantly, but the slap to his head has him whining. He rub the back of his head and grumbles, glaring at Essek with all the rage he can muster. Which isn’t much. It’s hard to get him truly angry.

"Is she going to believe that her proper, well behaved son would do something like that? I do not even know any curses, Verin." He smirks knowing full well he could sway their mother's punishment. Even if he denied it, he acted like he was her favourite. After not finding what he was searching for, he leaves the book once more, stepping back to take in just how much knowledge had been stored under their house all this time. "Knowing I only had one lifetime mother could have let me into her secret sooner..."

Verin glares daggers at his brother. “And you say you’re not the favorite child.” He shoves Essek into the bookshelf, toppling a few books in the process. He wanders further, mainly just walking around to keep from staying in one place. He hates standing still. “Maybe the whole point was to convince you to consecute yourself by showing you all this stuff.” He gestures vaguely around the place while walking backwards, but stops abruptly when he nears the center contraption. He clutches his chest and a hiss, as if having a heart attack, and quickly scrambles away from the thing.

Essek lets out a noise of frustration, having to control all self control he had to not blast Verin across the room. It was not fair that he couldn’t use his own abilities against him while Verin could just shove him around. When they get his magic aversion resolve he was going to pin him to the ground for hours. “I would sooner die a painful death and be tortured for all of eternity that ever become consecuted.” He sughs and, even through his frustration, goes grab his brother to drag him away. “You need to be more careful, you cannot die in such a stupid way.”

Verin scoffs at his brother’s chiding, but his focus is on the device in the center of the room. His expression is one of both confusion and haunting familiarity. He stares, not speaking, for a whole minute before he turns and starts walking back towards the exit. “Well should leave.” He says sternly, posture rigid and strangely guarded as if readying for battle. “You saw everything you wanted, right? There’s no need to loiter.”

Essek frowns at Verin’s sudden change of demeanour, looking between him and the device. If it was anything else, it may not have been weird to see that look of recognition from his brother, but this was a magic artifact, not a weapon or armour. So, he estands his ground. He felt like his brother didn’t want him to continue looking around. “Verin, what is in the device?” It was phrased as a question, but he was telling Verin to tell him, not giving him room to not do so.

Verin shakes his head and does not stop walking. If anything, his pace speeds up minutely. “I don’t know, but..” He rubs at his chest. He can feel it tightening and bile creeping up his throat. “Something feels wrong. We should leave. Ask mother about what the hell is down here or something, but we should be anywhere but here.”

Essek hangs back, crossing over his chest, thinking if what he should do. He knew he should follow Verin out and ask their mother later about it, but he was a fool, and too curious for his own good. He does not miss the feeling as the hair at the back of his neck stands up, as if he is going to make a big mistake. “I am staying. I need to see this.”

Vern finally stops in his tracks, whirling around to face Essek with a look of both frustration and worry. “Essek, no.” He takes a few steps towards his brother, even when everything in him is screaming at him to run. “Don’t be an idiot, not when I know you know better.” He extends a hand towards his brother, almost pleading. “I will drag you out if I have to.”

"Do not get closer, you will get hurt." Essek doesn't move though, staring at the device, his expression twitching as if he was deciding what to do. Even after what he had done and learned, he could not resist that pull that knowledge had on him. "What if this could help you? What if you could come out of here cured?" Verin had seen the slightly manic look in his brother's eyes, the type where his mind was quickly spiraling down into unwise decisions and obsessing over finding answers. "I just need ten minutes, to know what it does. And then we can leave." Unless he found out it was something really interesting.

Verin shakes his head and disobeys Essek’s command, stepping closer. He can’t let his brother do this. “No. We can’t afford what-ifs, Essek. You can’t afford them. You are a father now, remember? You can’t be reckless like this, not when you have a family that relies on you.” He walks closer until he can reach Essek, grabbing his wrist. “We can’t always come back, but we should know what we’re getting into first.”