Threats & Demands (Attn: Bella)

[Trent]

Durent

The deserted Gardens spoke to the late hour in which Durent found himself walking the familiar paths. The stars were bright above in the clear sky, though the moon was dark, new in its cycle. The crisp spring air bit at his skin a little, but he had long ago learned to pay it no mind. He knew the paths so well after all this time that he barely had to look down, instead enjoying the majestic view of the stars. Unfortunately, it did little to calm his fears and worry. Something bad was coming. He’d been feeling it since his return to the Tower and the feeling was getting worse. He found his way to one of the stone benches that sat in a small grove of trees and sat down, trying to let the peace and solitude of nature surround and relax him as it had so many times in the past. He pulled a metal band out of his pocket and turned it over in his fingers. His wedding ring. He hadn’t worn it in years, decades maybe. The maelstrom of emotions buried deep inside floated dangerously close to the surface. Light, but he missed her. Every day it tore up his insides worse than a whipping, and he knew the comparison firsthand. Every day he had to make peace with his failure as a husband, and as a Green, and bury those feelings deep inside and carry on. He carried on because he had to, because he was useful. When that stopped being true, he would make a one-way trip to the Blight and take out as many darkspawn as he could before the end. He pushed the feelings back down again as he always did, and put the ring back in his pocket. It wouldn’t do for someone to come across the M’Hael sobbing in the Gardens. An unexpected sound over behind a tree caught him off guard and he snapped his head over to look in that direction. He was not used to being caught off guard. He didn’t seize saidin but it was a breath away. “Who’s there?”

[Bella]

Ji'dar Seira Seira had to work hard to slip into the gardens at this hour unseen, but she had been getting more and more practice. She knew that the M'hael was here tonight and she worked to scout the area before she approached him. She had to make note of where his guards were, for the members of the triumvirate were never left alone.

More than once, she was almost found out by them, but a bit of subversive and cautious weaves helped to take care of them. It wouldn't last long, but she didn't need much time to achieve this.

She drew near. Her hood was up, obscuring her enough to remain anonymous and she angled her body as carefully as she could to keep anything from being revealed. "Be cautious what you do, sir," she said, pitching her voice low. She had seen him tense when she'd broken that small branch under her boot, even soft-soled as it was. "I have news that you would regret not hearing."

[Trent]

Durent

Wary of the hooded figure, Durent stayed on edge at first, but eventually relaxed enough to consider the situation. His body eased back down from the fighting posture he had taken without thinking from decades of training and practice. “It’s not easy to sneak up on the M’Hael in his own Tower Grounds. It also might not be terribly wise.” His brain immediately went to where his guards were. He himself always tried to lose them for some privacy, but they were very good at their jobs and likely simply let him think he was alone. Did they know she was here? Would they advance soon? She spoke of news to give him. News he would regret not knowing. Who was this person? How had she managed what she had? What information could she have for him that he didn’t already know through his own extensive contacts? Each of these questions flew around his mind at once before he forcibly fed them to the void. The latter was the only one he was likely to get answered any time soon. “You have my attention, stranger. I promise you no harm or trouble, unless you seek one of those first. What words do you have for the M’Hael of the Grey Tower that you could not have brought to an official audience with me?

[Bella]

Seira laughed from deep within her cowl. It was a mirthless sound, sad and double-edged like a sword. "What a question that is, M'hael," she replied. Even on such an errand as she was, she could not speak to him without respect. The machinations of the darkness sought to work precisely against her own, and there had been no evading this one. "You should well be able to guess why this is no official audience."

Through the darkness, a small pouch flew. It was a small bit of cloth, tied at the top with a string. "Open it, and it will show you the truth and the price of my words."

Everything she said tasted like ashes on her tongue, but she spat each syllable about none the less. "The Shadow has captured a piece of great value to the Tower's vaunted M'hael, and he will do as they want if he wishes to reclaim it. We come bearing a set of tasks, and proof of possession of your son."

[Trent]

Durent

All of the years Durent had practiced schooling his emotions did not prepare him for the words that his brain had to process in that moment. He caught the small pouch out of instinct as his mind began to spin out different possibilities, questions, and strategies. Was it true? Was she lying? Was she trying to distract him long enough to try to assassinate him? If they did have him, where would they keep him? What would they demand he do as ransom?

As his mind raced, he reached into the bag and his heart sank. He felt two things: a folded piece of parchment and a ring. He knew the ring by touch without even seeing it. The wedding ring he had given to Kylara decades past. Daeric always wore it on a chain around his neck. His son would never have allowed anyone to simply steal it from him. They either had him, or he was dead.

The thought of his son dead or taken ignited a rage in him he didn’t know he was still capable of feeling. He gripped the ring so tightly in his left hand, the stone set in it drew blood that ran through his fingers, dripping onto the stone walkway. Thunder rumbled in the clear sky above. He turned away partially while keeping her in his peripherals, breathing deeply, trying to get control of both his anger and the storm above.

It had been a long time since he had channeled uncontrolled from pure emotion. He and his son had never been as close as he wanted, but Daeric was his only blood left in this world. His only tie to Kylara. Any followers of the Shadow that had had a hand in this would burn, Oaths be damned. First, though, he knew he had to get Daeric back.

As he regained control of himself, he looked down at the paper and unfolded it. He was puzzled at what he read. They had the M’Hael of the Grey Tower in their clutches… why would they want him to step down and leave the Tower? Whatever they had planned, they wanted him gone more than they wanted a powerful puppet or informant. He filed that information away as he looked back to the messenger, hatred blazing in his eyes. “How do I know he’s still alive?”

[Bella]

Seira lifted her eyes to the sky, bringing her hand to tug on her hood and keep it from falling back as the wind picked up. She knew that the M'hael was a Cloud Dancer and this sudden storm did not surprise her, but it still worried her. Storms could be strangely intrusive and upsetting to plans, and this razor's edge that she danced on was too dangerous as it was.

This brought her no pleasure. She was not like the others.

Lowering her head, she looked at him even though he could not well see her she knew. The Ji'dar inhaled carefully, not wanting to reveal her own emotions as she forced another mirthless laugh. "Do you really want to take that chance, sir?"