The Legacy of Kyra Stuurm - 29/08 & 05/09 - Keros
Sept 9, 2024 22:41:11 GMT
Jaezred Vandree, Andy D, and 1 more like this
Post by Tom M on Sept 9, 2024 22:41:11 GMT
Co-written with and transcribed by Jaezred Vandree
The Four Fair Winds is quiet when Keros enters. Jaezred is sitting at the bar with Imryll, a panther lying asleep at their feet. He has a sad look on his face as he nurses a glass in one hand and she is holding the other, her thumb stroking gently. They appear to be speaking quietly in Elvish.
His keen eyes catch Keros’s hulking form at the door and he says to her, “I’ll be right back.”
He gets off the stool and walks towards the minotaur, sighing as he adjusts his jacket. “Yes?”
Keros looks over Jaezred’s shoulder as he approaches. “Jaezred. Been a while.” He nods toward Imryll. “Thought you could use an update, but I can be brief.”
Jaezred stares up at him for a moment. They’d not spoken since Keros refused to help Rae the first time. “I’ve heard of the…commotion in the Feythorn, and I’m aware who was responsible for it.”
“Well I can tell you that they are alive. They are physically safe. The book is gone.” Keros’s manner is cold, but he struggles to maintain eye contact.
“Good to hear. Is there anything else?”
“They are in a bad way, Jaezred. I am not the person to help them right now. Things between us are too complicated.” A tinge of irritation enters his voice. “And I know what you are going to say. I could have helped before and I did not listen to you. This time is different.”
The two men stand there by the doors for a while, a silence strung between them.
Then Jaezred sighs again. “Sit down, have a drink.”
Keros hesitates. “I do not want to take away from your time with Imryll.”
“It’s fine. We were actually talking about Rae,” Jaezred admits, not meeting Keros’s gaze in that moment.
Imryll, understanding, stands up as the two of them approach. She tells them that she’ll leave them to it, leaving her partner with a light kiss on his forehead, and vanishing in a puff of sparkly mist.
“Well, my to-do list is pretty limited for today.” Keros sits down awkwardly. “I wish I could tell you more, but the details I am sure you will get from them.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Jaezred flags down the bartender and holds up two fingers as he points at his near-empty glass of whisky.
“Just what you have always done. I told you this was a brief visit,” Keros says with a shrug.
“No, Keros. Before they ran off to the Feythorn, I…I found out that they’d been working on this. Looking into that blasted book again. Said you were in on it this time. And I lost my temper.”
“I lose my temper for a living, Jaezred. It happens.” He nods in thanks to the waiter as a glass of whisky appears in front of him. “And by the gods have they given plenty of reason for it lately. What did you say?”
Jaezred gulps down his first, near-empty glass. “In that moment, I thought you were right, that I’d been too soft on them and that’s what led to this. So I told them the honest truth…and other manners of horrible things that I cannot take back now.”
Having walked for the better part of a day after getting his mind tampered with by the spirit of a woman he killed and repeatedly stabbed by one of his friends, Keros similarly empties his glass. “The truth hurts, but you two are going to have to move on. All three of us have hurt each other. A lot. For what it is worth, I apologise for the part my stubbornness played in it.”
“I thought you knew better.” Jaezred’s hands ball up into fists on the bar. “What were you thinking, encouraging them like that? Feeding into their delusions?”
Keros does not get angry in return and looks the drow dead in the eye, “Jaezred. If I had not said what I did then Rae would not have told me where they were going and what they were planning to do. If there is one part of this story I do not regret it is the part that meant I am not coming here to tell you that Rae is dead. Or worse. Or would you prefer they had been standing alone in the Feythorn when that ritual went off?”
Jaezred holds the stare for a long while, his own gaze searing, threatening to boil the air around them. Finally, he shuts his eyes and breathes out, letting his hands and shoulders unclench. “Fine. You made a good point. I shall refrain from doing what the priest calls ‘lashing out’ — or whatever he calls it, it’s bullshit anyway.”
As if sensing his agitation, He’lylbreia the panther wakes up, yawning wide, and rubs their head into Jaezred’s outer thigh. He reaches down and strokes their smoky, shadowy fur as he says, “Tell me how Rae is doing now.”
Keros exhales deeply, relaxing from the strain of his instincts rising to meet a perceived threat. “Physically? Much better. Mentally? Another story.” He shakes his head. “The person who ended a civil war, teleported in front of a moving hillsurfer to save a child, and damn near killed themselves trying to save me from an inevitable fate is trying to figure out if they are a good person deep down.”
“What happened? How was the curse broken?”
"...That's it? That's all it took?"
“Pretty much my reaction, yeah.”
“How did that crater happen, then?”
“Rae had already started the ritual when we arrived. Pipper stopped it and not… gently. I was too busy helping kill Kyra Stuurm again to see exactly what she did.”
Keros just seems tired as he relays this story. Jaezred leans back against his chair, equally weary, staring up at the ceiling as he swills his second glass of whisky. Another silence settles between them, this one far more comfortable than the last.
“I don’t know what to do, Keros. I’m not sure I can help them.”
The minotaur speaks firmly, “You can apologise for what you said. You can let them know you are still there for them if they choose to reach out.”
“And then what?”
“And then you fucking help! Jaezred, there is a gap in my memory where my father was, but even I know that.”
“Keros, I am not Rae’s father! They are not of my blood and we have not known each other for long. I am not ready… I don’t know if I ever will be.”
The earlier accusation didn’t make Keros angry but this gets a rise out of him. “Yes you fucking are. And you were a damned good one until you said that blood bullshit.”
The drow lord shakes his head. “You said it yourself: the truth hurts. I am not related to them, I had nothing to do with their upbringing, I have only just met them. We share no bond of kinship — and they should thank the gods for that.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“What makes you so insistent that I play the role of a father to Rae?”
Keros was already shaking his head at himself before the question vocalised. “You know what? I am used to you being in that role, so are they, and so are you. But they are going through hell right now and someone needs to be there for them who loves them. If you are going to let a word that scares you stop you from doing that, then maybe you have a point. I have actual good fucking reasons to keep my distance. You do not, Jaezred. Get over yourself.”
There are a number of dark clouds that cast a shade over Jaezred’s expression: cynicism, doubt, self-loathing, and two-and-a-half centuries’ worth of baggage. But there is also a glimmer of light in his eyes, a strange red moon shining behind the gloom — determination. He purses his lips and gives a solemn nod.
Keros softens and gives a relieved smile at for once, a gamble paying off. “Next round is on me, but we are going to talk about something else, okay?”
Jaezred sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Yes. A cocktail to lighten the mood, perhaps.” He stares into the bottom of his glass and then looks at the minotaur again. “And Keros, if you need help, all you need to do is ask.”
“And I will ask. Because if I still exist after my next decision I will be breaking the habit of pretending I am able to do things without help and not fuck them up.” His eyes widen at the prices on the cocktail menu before he looks back up at Jaezred. “But for what it is worth… same.”
“Fine. If you insist.”
The Four Fair Winds is quiet when Keros enters. Jaezred is sitting at the bar with Imryll, a panther lying asleep at their feet. He has a sad look on his face as he nurses a glass in one hand and she is holding the other, her thumb stroking gently. They appear to be speaking quietly in Elvish.
His keen eyes catch Keros’s hulking form at the door and he says to her, “I’ll be right back.”
He gets off the stool and walks towards the minotaur, sighing as he adjusts his jacket. “Yes?”
Keros looks over Jaezred’s shoulder as he approaches. “Jaezred. Been a while.” He nods toward Imryll. “Thought you could use an update, but I can be brief.”
Jaezred stares up at him for a moment. They’d not spoken since Keros refused to help Rae the first time. “I’ve heard of the…commotion in the Feythorn, and I’m aware who was responsible for it.”
“Well I can tell you that they are alive. They are physically safe. The book is gone.” Keros’s manner is cold, but he struggles to maintain eye contact.
“Good to hear. Is there anything else?”
“They are in a bad way, Jaezred. I am not the person to help them right now. Things between us are too complicated.” A tinge of irritation enters his voice. “And I know what you are going to say. I could have helped before and I did not listen to you. This time is different.”
The two men stand there by the doors for a while, a silence strung between them.
Then Jaezred sighs again. “Sit down, have a drink.”
Keros hesitates. “I do not want to take away from your time with Imryll.”
“It’s fine. We were actually talking about Rae,” Jaezred admits, not meeting Keros’s gaze in that moment.
Imryll, understanding, stands up as the two of them approach. She tells them that she’ll leave them to it, leaving her partner with a light kiss on his forehead, and vanishing in a puff of sparkly mist.
“Well, my to-do list is pretty limited for today.” Keros sits down awkwardly. “I wish I could tell you more, but the details I am sure you will get from them.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Jaezred flags down the bartender and holds up two fingers as he points at his near-empty glass of whisky.
“Just what you have always done. I told you this was a brief visit,” Keros says with a shrug.
“No, Keros. Before they ran off to the Feythorn, I…I found out that they’d been working on this. Looking into that blasted book again. Said you were in on it this time. And I lost my temper.”
“I lose my temper for a living, Jaezred. It happens.” He nods in thanks to the waiter as a glass of whisky appears in front of him. “And by the gods have they given plenty of reason for it lately. What did you say?”
Jaezred gulps down his first, near-empty glass. “In that moment, I thought you were right, that I’d been too soft on them and that’s what led to this. So I told them the honest truth…and other manners of horrible things that I cannot take back now.”
Having walked for the better part of a day after getting his mind tampered with by the spirit of a woman he killed and repeatedly stabbed by one of his friends, Keros similarly empties his glass. “The truth hurts, but you two are going to have to move on. All three of us have hurt each other. A lot. For what it is worth, I apologise for the part my stubbornness played in it.”
“I thought you knew better.” Jaezred’s hands ball up into fists on the bar. “What were you thinking, encouraging them like that? Feeding into their delusions?”
Keros does not get angry in return and looks the drow dead in the eye, “Jaezred. If I had not said what I did then Rae would not have told me where they were going and what they were planning to do. If there is one part of this story I do not regret it is the part that meant I am not coming here to tell you that Rae is dead. Or worse. Or would you prefer they had been standing alone in the Feythorn when that ritual went off?”
Jaezred holds the stare for a long while, his own gaze searing, threatening to boil the air around them. Finally, he shuts his eyes and breathes out, letting his hands and shoulders unclench. “Fine. You made a good point. I shall refrain from doing what the priest calls ‘lashing out’ — or whatever he calls it, it’s bullshit anyway.”
As if sensing his agitation, He’lylbreia the panther wakes up, yawning wide, and rubs their head into Jaezred’s outer thigh. He reaches down and strokes their smoky, shadowy fur as he says, “Tell me how Rae is doing now.”
Keros exhales deeply, relaxing from the strain of his instincts rising to meet a perceived threat. “Physically? Much better. Mentally? Another story.” He shakes his head. “The person who ended a civil war, teleported in front of a moving hillsurfer to save a child, and damn near killed themselves trying to save me from an inevitable fate is trying to figure out if they are a good person deep down.”
“What happened? How was the curse broken?”
"...That's it? That's all it took?"
“Pretty much my reaction, yeah.”
“How did that crater happen, then?”
“Rae had already started the ritual when we arrived. Pipper stopped it and not… gently. I was too busy helping kill Kyra Stuurm again to see exactly what she did.”
Keros just seems tired as he relays this story. Jaezred leans back against his chair, equally weary, staring up at the ceiling as he swills his second glass of whisky. Another silence settles between them, this one far more comfortable than the last.
“I don’t know what to do, Keros. I’m not sure I can help them.”
The minotaur speaks firmly, “You can apologise for what you said. You can let them know you are still there for them if they choose to reach out.”
“And then what?”
“And then you fucking help! Jaezred, there is a gap in my memory where my father was, but even I know that.”
“Keros, I am not Rae’s father! They are not of my blood and we have not known each other for long. I am not ready… I don’t know if I ever will be.”
The earlier accusation didn’t make Keros angry but this gets a rise out of him. “Yes you fucking are. And you were a damned good one until you said that blood bullshit.”
The drow lord shakes his head. “You said it yourself: the truth hurts. I am not related to them, I had nothing to do with their upbringing, I have only just met them. We share no bond of kinship — and they should thank the gods for that.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“What makes you so insistent that I play the role of a father to Rae?”
Keros was already shaking his head at himself before the question vocalised. “You know what? I am used to you being in that role, so are they, and so are you. But they are going through hell right now and someone needs to be there for them who loves them. If you are going to let a word that scares you stop you from doing that, then maybe you have a point. I have actual good fucking reasons to keep my distance. You do not, Jaezred. Get over yourself.”
There are a number of dark clouds that cast a shade over Jaezred’s expression: cynicism, doubt, self-loathing, and two-and-a-half centuries’ worth of baggage. But there is also a glimmer of light in his eyes, a strange red moon shining behind the gloom — determination. He purses his lips and gives a solemn nod.
Keros softens and gives a relieved smile at for once, a gamble paying off. “Next round is on me, but we are going to talk about something else, okay?”
Jaezred sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Yes. A cocktail to lighten the mood, perhaps.” He stares into the bottom of his glass and then looks at the minotaur again. “And Keros, if you need help, all you need to do is ask.”
“And I will ask. Because if I still exist after my next decision I will be breaking the habit of pretending I am able to do things without help and not fuck them up.” His eyes widen at the prices on the cocktail menu before he looks back up at Jaezred. “But for what it is worth… same.”
“Fine. If you insist.”