Chapter Text
The house itself seems small, at least from the outside, with walls of stone and small rectangular windows with little planter boxes underneath them. For a moment, Essek Thelyss is uncertain that he is at the correct location until he sees some of the bowls of food and water left out on the front step for stray cats. Upon closer inspection, it seems that the plants growing in the boxes seem to be cuttings of various plants from the Blooming Grove.
Essek hadn’t really known what to expect, but looking at this small home in the Tangles neighborhood in Rexxentrum, he realized he had been picturing something more like his cousin’s former house in Rosohna, which is now referred to as the Xhorhaus. Of course, upon reflection, he knows that the manor had been a bit too flashy and noticeable for his friend’s tastes, given the large tree with lights strung up in it growing from the roof. Perhaps he expected a nice tower full of all the books he could ever read. He would deserve no less, of course.
As Essek approaches the house, a gray tabby cat jumps up onto one of the steps and starts to try to jump onto one of the planter boxes on the windows. He is clearly a stray that has gotten in more than a couple of scraps in his time, as he is missing his right eye, making his depth perception poor and making him hesitant to jump. The disguised Drow watches him for a moment before reaching over and helping to lift the cat to the windowsill. The cat blinks at him in appreciation with his one good green eye before starting to try to chew on the plants.
Essek reaches forward in alarm to grab the cat again, who squirms in his arms. “No, don’t do that, please. I do not think that Caleb would appreciate—”
The door opens very suddenly, making Essek nearly drop the cat out of surprise. Standing before him is a thankfully familiar face. Caleb Widogast stands before him in the doorway of the small home. His hair hangs loose about his face and he looks a bit tired, but that in of itself is not entirely unusual, despite the fact that it has been about six months since he had last seen him. The other wizard is wearing dark pants and a loose maroon shirt that looks fantastic with the fiery shade of his hair.
Caleb’s blue eyes trace him up and down but before he can say anything, Essek sets the cat down as gently as he can. “Hello. It’s me,” says the Drow awkwardly. “I’m a little earlier than expected, but…”
Caleb smiles at him. “I know. It is good to see you, mein Freund. Or at least somewhat,” he adds, half-joking, nodding at Essek’s disguised form.
Today, in order to pass through the Empire unnoticed, Essek is disguised as a Tiefling. His skin is a light, minty green and his eyes are the same shade of purple as his hair. His clothes are pale and unassuming, not nearly as nice as the robes he wore when he disguised himself as Dezran Thain nor when he was active as a Shadowhand to Leylas Kryn. He also has his parasol that Jester painted for him. Disguised or not, being out in the direct sunlight makes it hard to see. It also even makes him sneeze when he steps from a dark and shady place into direct sunlight.
“Why don’t you come in?” Caleb says, stepping aside in the doorway. The one-eyed cat rushes in before Essek can move and the human chuckles fondly in amusement. “You too if you want, Grün.”
Essek heads inside, folding his parasol as he does, and Caleb shuts the door behind him. The living room is sparsely decorated, with the bare minimum by way of furniture. There is a couch and coffee table, both of which are covered in stacks of books, files, and papers. The walls are bare, lacking any form of decoration. Essek does note that there are at least two more cats in this room alone, one a tortoiseshell and the other brown and white. The tortoiseshell starts to approach Essek cautiously while the other eyes him wearily from underneath the table.
As Caleb closes the curtains, Essek allows the illusion disguise to drop. Caleb turns to him with a smile. He approaches and puts one of his hands on Essek’s shoulders, smiling at him. “It is good to see you again. How have you been? How was Uthodurn?”
“It was fine,” Essek says, shyly smiling back at him. “Reani sends her love, of course.”
“And your journey here?” Caleb asks.
Before Essek can get a chance to answer, the tortoiseshell cat starts batting at the hem of the Drow’s pant leg. Essek stays very still. Caleb scolds her gently in Zemnian and scoops her up. Essek smiles at the two of them and watches as Caleb sets her down and gently nudges her towards a doorway on the other side of the room. She trots off obediently.
“Sorry about that,” Caleb says. “Elma likes to meet new people.”
“Are they all yours?” Essek asks, glancing at the brown and white one who is still under the table. The yellow eyes stare at him unblinkingly and shift slightly as he backs away.
Caleb hums a little. “Sort of. I let them in if they want to come in, I leave food for them, and name them, but I don’t know if I would call them ‘mine.’ Cats are funny that way. It takes them a while to decide to trust you.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Essek admits. “I’ve never actually had one before. I’ve seen you with Frumpkin, of course, but…”
“Would you like to meet one of them?” Caleb asks.
Essek hesitates, wringing his hands. Looking at Caleb, though, the Drow can see the delight in his eyes. Essek feels himself melt a little bit and he feels himself nodding. The human’s face immediately brightens and he moves over to the couch, setting about moving some of the stacks of paper. Essek moves over to help. He tries not to look too closely at them out of respect of Caleb’s privacy, but he can’t help but pick out a couple of words from the pages, such as Volstrucker, starvation, disfigurement, and Ikithon.
“Notes from the trial,” Caleb says simply, undoubtedly seeing the look on Essek’s face.
“How did that go?” asks Essek, carefully sitting down on the couch, watchful of the stacks of paper on the floor. The cat hiding underneath the coffee table flees the room, frightened by the Drow’s presence.
“It went quite well, actually,” says Caleb, relief hunching his shoulders even as there is a certain vindication to his smile. “Beauregard was very thorough with her notes and research.”
Essek nods. He can easily picture the two humans on their hands and knees with different papers spread out across the floor before them.
“Beauregard actually arranged for me to stay in this house while the trial was going on,” Caleb continues, “This house is close enough to the Rexxentrum Archive of the Cobalt Soul that we felt it would be a good location. It’s supposed to be temporary.”
“That is why there isn’t too much decoration?” Essek guesses.
“That and Jester isn’t here to paint on the walls,” Caleb says, giving Essek a half-smile. His eyebrows raise as he realizes what he had been doing in the first place. “Just a moment, I’ll see who is willing to come to say hello.”
Caleb heads from the room, leaving Essek alone with the stacks of books and pages. Although his curiosity is biting at him, the Drow does not reach for any of the other wizard’s papers. He instead looks about the room and, despite himself, starts to imagine the space in a more homey way. Perhaps a bookshelf against the wall here, an armchair there, a coat rack in that corner for the overcoats that Caleb seems to prefer…
The human returns with the tortoiseshell cat in his arms. “I am going to put her on your lap, now. She’s already had a chance to sniff you, so maybe she will stay.”
Essek feels a jolt in the pit of his stomach. It seems very soon to him. Weren’t cats cautious creatures around strangers? That’s what he had read, at least.
He pauses for a moment to try to consider why he felt so odd about this. He looks up at Caleb with the cat in his arms, his blue eyes on the Drow. There is warmth in his gaze and the utmost patience. Essek had seen those eyes brighten when presented with a new puzzle to solve, narrow as he focuses on something, fondness when looking towards any other member of the Mighty Nein, and darken with determination when facing some trouble. He has also seen these eyes wide and empty, staring at nothing after having been torn through by the demonic wings of Lucien.
Essek tells himself that the anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach has everything to do with the cats and the cats alone.
Caleb sets Elma down on Essek’s lap. The human sits down on the couch next to him, petting the cat to help soothe her. He scratches at the base of her tail, causing her to lift it up. Elma looks at Essek with her yellow eyes and blinks slowly. She lifts up and gently headbutts Essek’s chin. The Drow feels himself smile. He reaches forward and starts to scratch her chin. Elma leans into the touch, purring. She circles around a moment before settling onto Essek’s lap, wrapping her tail around her body so that it covers her nose.
The two of them spend a quiet moment reorienting themselves in the warmth of Elma’s body and the rhythm of her purrs. Essek is reluctant to break the peaceful contentment that they are sharing right now, but he feels that he has so much to say to Caleb. Although he is not quite ready to broach the subject of their trip to Aeor, he has missed the sound of Caleb’s voice for the past six months.
“What happened in the trial?” Essek asks.
Caleb blinks slowly down at the cat on Essek’s lap, bringing his gaze closer to Essek’s face. The Drow knew that Caleb wasn’t so good with eye contact but he didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Trent Ikithon will never see the light of day again,” Caleb says proudly. “He was presented by the full force of the Library of the Cobalt Soul before the Crown and King Dwendal. They have not announced this to the public, as I believe they are still concerned about the image of the Cerberus Assembly, but those of us who were present at the trial know that he sits in the deepest and darkest dungeon in Rexxentrum, unable to talk or move his hands. I hope he thinks about everything he has done.”
Essek nods. Although he does not know all of the details of Caleb’s relationship and history with Trent, he knows that based on the way that Caleb behaves whenever Ikithon is mentioned, the way that he was speaking to Caleb during the attack on the Blooming Grove, and his own dealings with the man, Essek is happy on Caleb’s behalf that he is gone.
“And your friends?” asks Essek.
“Astrid and Eadwulf?” Caleb says. Essek nods and the human continues, “I… I don’t really know how they feel about things per-se, but… I do know that Astrid has taken control of Master Ikithon’s estate and when I saw Wulf last he was mentioning a potential pilgrimage to Vasselheim and visiting the Duskmeadow District.”
Essek has read about Vasselheim. He knows of the different districts, one each dedicated to the Platinum Dragon, the Stormlord, the Lawbearer, the Wildmother, the Raven Queen, and the Everlight. He knows that the city itself is supposed to be incredibly ancient; it’s not called the Cradle of Creation for nothing. There could potentially be a lot to learn from the history of the city but Essek has no real desire to go there. He is not a very religious man to start with, but the fact that arcane magic is frowned upon within the city makes him uncomfortable.
“And Beauregard? I know that she did a lot of work for this. Is she doing well with being idle now that Trent Ikithon has been locked away?” Essek asks.
Caleb actually laughs at that. The sound of it makes something in Essek’s chest flutter. “I don’t think that Beauregard Lionett has been idle a day in her life. Now that Ikithon has been dealt with, and the trial with her father, of course, she and Yasha are working to get custody of T.J.”
The human takes a moment to reflect. “Perhaps the two of them can take care of the cats while we are in Aeor. I know that Beauregard likes to pretend otherwise, but she was always fond of Frumpkin. Yasha was too. They might like our friends here.” Caleb waves a vague hand at Elma.
“How soon did you wish to depart?” Essek asks, running his right hand over Elma’s back, enjoying the smooth softness of her fur.
“Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to get more supplies before we leave. Healing potions and such, since Caduceus and Jester won’t be there to heal us,” says Caleb, “but perhaps we can depart by the end of the week. If you are comfortable with that,” he adds.
Essek nods thoughtfully. “I think I would be comfortable with that. Is there a particular inn you would recommend I stay in?”
Confusion flashes across Caleb’s face. “I apologize, but I was under the impression you were to stay here until our departure for Eiselcross. If that is not your desire—”
Essek’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Oh! My mistake for the misunderstanding.”
“I figured it would be best to save some of our coin for potions,” Caleb says, ever practical, “and if you wish you can look through some of my pages I would not mind in the slightest.”
“Saving our coins sounds logical,” agrees Essek primly.
“Of course,” Caleb adds hastily, “this home only has one bedroom and I know that you are accustomed to your own space and privacy, so I would not blame you if you wanted to find a place to sleep elsewhere anyway.”
“Elves don’t really rest as humans do,” Essek points out. “I only need to meditate for a couple of hours and then I will be just fine. I would not mind doing so here.” He waves the hand that is not on Elma lazily around the room.
“Just so that you are aware, the cats are more active at night.”
“I am a Drow,” says Essek, giving Caleb a small smirk, “by all rights I should be more active at night, should I not?”
Caleb laughs again. “Of course.”
From there, the two wizards spend much of the rest of the day chatting about mundane things, steering away from heavier subjects such as the trial and how Essek is officially a deserter of his duties in the Kryn Dynasty. Instead, they chat about Essek’s time in Uthodurn (“The Vellum Steeple has quite the collection, wouldn’t you say?”) and how Beauregard and Yasha have moved into a lovely place just a few blocks away from Caleb’s current temporary home (“I don’t know why they invited me over to help move furniture. I suspect that Beauregard mostly wished to laugh at me as I tried to push an armchair across a room.”)
In the evening, Caleb helps to prepare the two of them a simple dinner of bread and soup. Essek finds himself oddly touched that Caleb remembered his favorite meal even after six months. That amount of time was not very long to Essek, of course, but he was sure that it was much longer from the perspective of a human, especially when there has been so much emotional turmoil since the last time.
Eventually, Caleb bids Essek good night, giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before heading to his room. To Essek, it seems quite unfair that humans have such short lifespans and yet their bodies require them to waste so much of it on sleep. Caleb must feel similarly, given how often he seems to forsake rest for his research.
As Essek does not feel quite ready for his evening meditation yet, he starts to investigate some of the piles of papers and books. He is keenly aware of several pairs of cat eyes following him as he moves about the room but he pays them no mind. They could do as they pleased. Throughout their day together, Caleb had been letting various cats in and out of the small home, so the Drow isn’t terribly surprised to see more cats present than there had been upon his arrival that afternoon.
Some of the books, Essek notices, have the seal of the Cobalt Soul. The Drow quickly figures out that Beauregard must have smuggled them out of the library for him. He picks up the one on top and thumbs through it, realizing that this stack of books is mostly texts on Eiselcross. The one that Essek picked up is on the Wildfolk, who live nomadically, following around herds of elk and mammoths. His interest piqued, Essek takes the book with him back to the couch and starts to read.
Essek has only just gotten to a section on the Wildfolk’s punishment for murder when a makeshift bookmark falls out from the book into his lap. Essek makes sure he remembers the page number he was on before picking the bookmark up, realizing that it’s an envelope. For a moment, the Drow hesitates, before he opens up the envelope and withdraws the papers inside.
The page on top is a letter from Jester. Written in loopy handwriting in pink ink, she describes how she wanted to send messages to everyone but was worried about conserving her spell slots so Fjord had suggested she send letters instead. Much of the rest of the letter is spent describing the music played by someone named Orly, some giant sea turtles she saw, and how well Kingsley is doing on the Nein Heroez.
The other page has some drawings on it, but to Essek they did not look like Jester’s art style. In fact, upon closer inspection, scribbled in the right corner as if as an afterthought is New tattoos? Input on design appreciated. —King. Most of the drawings do seem to be nautical in theme, with realistically drawn waves, a compass, and a lighthouse in the shape of a woman with wild hair that tangles and curls around the shoulders.
Essek smiles at the letters for a moment before folding them and putting them back into the envelope. He returns it to the page that it had been marking and gets ready to return the book to the pile when a black cat jumps up onto the couch next to him. Essek looks at the cat for a moment and the cat looks back before blinking slowly. The Drow offers his hand to the creature, which headbutts him easily. The cat trots onto Essek’s lap brazenly and sits there, starting to purr.
Well, Essek supposes, looking down at the cat who has claimed his lap for her own, perhaps I will read more of this book for a bit after all.