2024-03-21 The Eldritch Mind of Calla Prim - Henri

The Gilded Mirror was opulent in ways Orianna found uncomfortable. The air sang with perfumes and it shone with gold that glittered in a garish way. It was the very last place she would ever go but it was the very first place she knew she'd find Henri.

She clung to her staff to anchor her as she approached the bar, spotting the dark handsome visage of her friend. He was speaking to another patron very animatedly, clearly in his element. Not wanting to interrupt but suddenly finding herself uncertain of what to do, she stopped, half turned away, saw a man throwing rose petals over a table ten feet away, and then turned back making a beeline straight towards Henri.

"Excuse me," Orianna says to the woman Henri was speaking to, barely giving her a glance. "Henri, we need to talk. Are you free soon?"

Henri's smile falters in frustration, a finger rising as quickly as it disappears when his double take confirms the source. He turns back to his audience, an Eladrin wearing a crown of spring flowers. "Please excuse me. Family emergency." He winks, receiving giggles from behind her hand in response.

He turns to Orianna, taking the bar towel off of his shoulder and placing it on the bar, where it gets to work all on its own. "Welcome to the Gilded Mirror! Trouble in paradise, cousin? How may I be of service?" He bows, slightly and mockingly, at once both amused at Orianna's discomfort in his place of work and pleased that she visited him at all.

In Dwarvish she asks, "Can you tell me — somewhere more privately — what you and the others saw at the end of the experiment you did with Calla? She was vague for… important reasons." Her eyes flick over briefly to the spring eladrin.

"Ah. Aldon? I'll be back shortly." Behind his shoulder, he shouts to the manager for the evening, a stout gnome that waves him off.

He lowers his head in thanks to the eladrin with a sly grin, the expression changing to serious as soon as he is around the bar and next to Orianna. "The booths are quite comfortable and fairly secluded, though I understand if you would rather be… elsewhere."

Orianna glances around, her discomfort rising again briefly. "Ah, perhaps a private room would be better?" she asks, still in Dwarvish. She holds her staff even closer, its starlight gem casting intricate patterns across her face as she looks at him, expectantly.

Henri sighs, running his hand through his jet black hair. "You're right. Upstairs, I think there's one or two available." He beckons with a hand towards the staircase at the back, the view from the top giving an eagle's perspective on the entire establishment and all of its many games and tables. A cheer erupting from one of them catches him with a start, but he quickly regains his composure and raises an arm along with them.

"Here, one moment." At the top, Henri flicks a gold piece towards one of the house keepers with a nod, who gestures to one of the recently cleaned rooms. Plush red velvet covers the furniture atop a dark mahogany, and a giant four poster bed sits along one wall. "We should be fine in here for a short while," Henri says, walking in and taking a seat in one of the chairs, offering the other.

"I appreciate this, Henri. I do," the tiefling says. She perches on the edge of the chair opposite him, appearing for all intents and purposes ready to leap up at a moment. "To catch you up on, and to help you understand why I need to know what happened, I told Calla what transpired when we retrieved Throdrazz's key. When I did, I-… I discovered what is not only the manifestation of Calla's pact but where it resides within her…" Her focus softens as she stares into the middle distance and Henri sees all the worries she tries to hide manifest for a brief second before she blinks and hyper focuses on him. "She said to speak to you about what you saw. Henri, please, tell me everything. I need to know so I can protect her."

Henri slowly sits back in his chair, his hand rising to his chin in thought. "She made us promise not to tell anyone about what we saw, though if she has told you herself to ask me, I see no reason why not." He sighs, gathering his thoughts.

"I saw the manifestation of her pact too, but as a metaphor. She had used a ritual that pulled us all into her mind, both literally and figuratively." Henri mimes unzipping his head at the forehead and flipping his hair open. "We saw a couple facets of her psyche. Memory, Rationality, Dreaming, and the most core, Feeling." As he lists them off, he raises another finger towards Orianna. "I am assuming you are most interested in what we saw in the Feeling mind, and within the genie bottle?"

"I believe so, if that is the last place you were at the end of the 'experiment.'"

Henri waves a hand, and an image of shimmering silver begins to weave in midair from the threads he wears beneath his vest.

"Within the bottle, the representation of Calla's pact, we met her representation of Arcavine." He shakes his head, as though in disbelief. "It was how Calla saw him, then. Back when she made the pact. And because it was her end of it, she could shape its terms. She ended up exchanging one boon for another."

Her brows draw down and together. "What sort of boon?"

Henri frowns. "I'm not entirely sure. She mentioned trading the armour she was gifted so that it would be around her mind instead of around her form."

Orianna goes very still. "You're sure? Around her mind?"

"That is what she said. Though if I were Arcravine, I would not give away armour I could not myself subvert."

"He certainly wouldn't… In fact, I surmise he would make it so he could know everything he could. He would not let rescind such access, especially if Calla did not know, nor understand how she was being used…"

"Likely not. However, before we discuss options, there was one more thing," Henri continues, trailing off. "It's not something we were meant to have seen, really. It was a deep memory, covered over by amethyst and obsidian. Buried there, though by either Calla or Arcravine I couldn't say."

He takes a deep breath. "It was her family, toasting the success of their master's plan. They had returned the Blood of Opal, and in the presence of the bloodline the Heart had grown stronger. And now, with their latest progeny, the plan was fulfilled. And Calla would be the one to fulfil it."

"Does-… Does Calla know about this?"

Henri nods. "Yes, she does. She was there with us, and then, as a child. She is Kessarax's Herald because her family created her to be so, as bid by Arcravine. And just as she has her vessel, they each had their own pieces of the First Mountain. We don't know what kind of relationship they have, but it's safe to say that now that Arcravine has regained his power, he has enough to start making pacts again."

Orianna shakes her head. "This is… a lot. Worse, even, than I could have thought possible…" Her eyes close as she rests her head against the cool metal of her staff.

"It is. But as I said, she did not want us to tell anyone, and I don't think I want to find myself on Calla's bad side." He looks at Orianna with some concern. "I don't think it changes much, though. No matter how it happened, Calla is in line to be Herald. And if she refuses it passes to her siblings."

"I don't think you quite understand, Henri. How did Abrax and Phystal know where our home is-" She gestures between herself and him, but it encompasses more than her. "-if there wasn't someone among our allies acting as informant? Who spends their time at home, who has been key to so many of our plans and moves in this conflict?" Her violet eyes stare intently into Henri's silvery ones, begging him to understand it so she doesn't have to spell it out.

He holds her gaze for a moment that stretches to an infinity in the quiet room, ending it only with a clench of his jaw, the muscles working in his cheek. "You're right, as always. But could Arcravine have predicted that she'd meet us? That she'd want to turn against him?"

"Possibly not. But the likelihood of Calla meeting us was high. For just as the Archwyrms are connected to each other, we Heralds are too."

A thought flashes across her mind and her face crumples. Orianna looks away, trying to steady herself. "There was a time when we were all in the same place, where our Nine Houses lived together. To have one of us unknowingly be the cuckoo in our nest is just-" A single, shining tear falls. A hand comes up to quickly wipe it away. "It is cruel."

Henri leans forward slightly, unsure if he should offer a hand in comfort or let her vent, and settles instead for placing his hand on the arm of her chair, within reach. "It is, but there is weakness in wanton cruelty. It's short-sighted. And as much as it pains me to admit," he says, grimacing through a smile, "we share more than we might like with our patrons. I have rarely seen Calla taken by surprise, but when I have it is when she has received a kindness. Maybe Arcravine can be swayed in a similar fashion."

"I don't think this is wanton cruelty. Much like her patron, Archravine plans for contingencies. He has been laying out his plans for a long, long time." She looks at him, and Henri sees a shadow in the starlight in her eyes. "If only kindness could be the answer. I wish it could be so… But Henri, do you really think that could work after what we have seen?"

Henri sighs in response. "No, I don't. But it might work on Calla if it comes to it." He runs his hands through his now-unruly hair again. "But speaking of contingencies. We have both seen what can happen if Arcravine touches a key piece. Whatever Calla chooses, he will be in contact with a Herald afterwards. We should be prepared for what happens next."

"Despite how it has appeared in the past, we have been one or two steps behind. So… What is coming next? What could Arcravine possibly gain beyond the obvious?" She holds up her hand, all five fingers splayed out. "Direct accessible contact with a Herald." Her thumb folds in to rest against her palm. "Direct connection and proxy responsibility for Kesserax's key." Her index finger folds down.

"Pantos mentioned that there was more to being a Herald than just being a soldier in this war. Maybe Kessarax's Herald has other responsibilities we do not know about? Like how I am meant to help anchor Throdrazz."

Orianna lowers another finger. "Yes…" The shadow from earlier leaves her features, replaced by a furrowed brow and a familiar thinking look.

"What if… Arcravine is playing the long game against his cousins, the other Primordial Incarnates, for what they did to him? Their decision to have him stripped of his power and position — what if that is what he plans to do to all of them? And all of this-" Orianna waves the hand being used to count down, "-what he is planning- What if it is revenge for that? Does he want to just bring them low? Or does he want to bring them low and have all the power for himself?"

Henri thinks she is done, but her eyes widen a fraction and lock onto him. He recognises the look. She has had it before. Only this time it isn't accusatory it is cautious mixed with a hope to be understood, encased in a thinly veiled shell of dread.

"Henri," Orianna starts, leaning forward to place her hand on his, gently and without hesitation. "Henri, you know what it is like to want more than you should or would have. To feel that you are stripped of something you are owed or worthy of. What might you do in order to get what you want? What you think you are owed?"

"I-" Henri stammers, his brow furrowing, as what Orianna implies sinks in, burrows into his heart. "I may be ambitious, Orianna, but I fail to see how this is related. You are suggesting that Arcravine is willing, no, acting to tread on his own family on the steps to greatness. Are you implying I would do the same? That I would trade you and all the others away for a- a boon?"

He looks away, a dark cloud of shame crossing the grey skies of his eyes. A whisper, then. A confession. "Maybe once. But you don't understand what it's like. It feels like they are in your way and won't move aside. And obstacles are meant to be overcome."

"'Obstacles are meant to be overcome…'" she repeats back in a breathless whisper. He feels it when Orianna nearly lets go of his hand but then grips it as if clinging on for dear life. "He will trade it all, _use_ us all, to get what he wants. I-" The way her voice catches has Henri suddenly looking at Orianna. Her hand rises up to her forehead but doesn't quite land. It just stays hovering as she winces, through some form of pain. "We have to protect her, Henri. Calla is- She will be-"

The words are cut off as Orianna lets out a moan of pain. Then the moment is gone but her breathing is quick, like she has been running. "I'm sorry, what was I saying?"

"You were saying that Arcravine would use any and all of us if it means he gets what he wants. And that we must protect Calla." Henri looks down to his pale knuckles, white now as death under a pale blue sky. "You two have contingencies if things go awry, yes? Some you have told us and some you have kept to yourselves?

"Yes, I- We do. I think." She shakes her horned head, clearly still dazed by what happened to her. She rubs gentle circles into her temple. "I just-… have this feeling that something… terrible is going to happen. No matter what I will try to do..."

"Maybe so." Henri tentatively places his other hand atop Orianna's, giving it an uneasy squeeze of support. "I'll keep an eye on the house and the keys while you're both away. Keep Thaneni and Rimmon company," he says with a cock of his head. "And then we'll figure out what happens next."

"I… would appreciate that, Henri. Thank you."