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“You don’t seem terribly happy with today’s revelation—or angry, for that matter,” Ithtar’s voice remarked from somewhere behind where Xier stood atop the wall surrounding the town of Amber’s Cradle. “You’d think one would have a stronger reaction to realizing he’s been unknowingly working alongside his long-lost father for the past tenday.”
Xier turned to glance over his shoulder at the older dark elf—the man who had revealed himself as his father earlier that day—but didn’t respond otherwise. He didn’t know what to say—what could he say, really? It wasn’t as if he had fully sorted through his thoughts just yet.
“...Do you mind if I join you?” Ithtar asked after a few beats of silence.
“No.” Xier turned back to the moonlit hills beyond the walls, where he was supposed to be watching for any undead trying to make their way towards the town under the cover of night.
In truth, he would’ve preferred to spend his watch in solitude, but he didn’t want to be rude. If Ithtar picked up on that, though, he chose to ignore it and strode up to the battlement to stand at Xier’s left side.
Xier cast a silent glance in the wizard’s direction, then returned his gaze once more to the hills.
It took Ithtar a few more minutes of icy silence to come to a realization.
“Seems I mistook your silence,” he murmured.
“It’s a common mistake,” Xier said coolly.
Ithtar sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame you for being displeased, though I will remind you that your mother and I were bound by nothing more than our desire for—”
Xier cut him off, holding up a hand to stop him. “Maybe in the beginning but, accident or not, you were bound by the children you had together—one of whom you knew about but never even bothered to meet, which is another issue completely,” he added, still struggling to understand how the older drow could have ignored his little sister’s existence so completely.
“So you would’ve expected me to leave my entire life behind to waste away in that prison of a city with a woman whom I didn’t even particularly like the majority of the time? You would have me suffer!”
“I’d have you take some measure of responsibility, whatever form it took,” Xier countered ceaselessly, and something in his tone gave Ithtar pause. Now it was Xier’s turn to sigh. “But I guess it’s pointless to be angry over what could’ve been, isn’t it?”
Ithtar didn’t respond, chewing on that. Finally, he asked, “Then what would you have me do now?”
But Xier didn’t know, so he didn’t respond. He turned his gaze back to the hills.
Eventually, Ithtar simply turned and left Xier alone with his thoughts.