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What Caleb knows
- Dynasty dens can be vast, with hundreds of members.
- Essek has many relatives, among them a little brother he has not spoken to in many years.
What Caleb doesn’t know
- That Essek’s little brother is named Verin (don’t ask me why he doesn’t know that).
- That Essek’s brother is freaking hawt.
Seven months after Essek’s departure from the Dynasty.
Bazzoxan looked the same as the last time Caleb was there. It was a village populated almost entirely by soldiers; hardened men and women who had experienced endless demonic incursions for decades, but who kept their spirits up with strong camaraderie and booze.
Caleb appeared on a back street so as to not cause too much alarm. Normally, he wouldn’t teleport straight into a regiment of twitchy soldiers, but he had gotten instructions and an anchor, and he was expected.
“Caleb Widogast?” a voice behind him barked and he spun around on his heel. A ragged gnoll in leather armor and dusty cape waived at him with a clawed hand. “Please, follow me.”
The gnoll led him into one of the larger barracks close to the Umbra Gates, a low stone building with a slate roof and some sad looking flowers in a planter by the door.
“You can wait in here.” The soldier pointed to a room on the left. When he nodded and walked in, she closed the door behind him without another word.
He looked around the room and noticed it was both an office and a living space. It was simple, but well taken care of. The tiny window had a clay pot on the windowsill, with a little plant leaning towards the light. There was a table in the middle of the floor, some chairs, a meticulously made bed and a shelf with some folded clothes and books. His eyes snagged on the books, and he saw a few about history, one romance novel and some Ashari poetry.
Caleb doubted all soldiers had a room like this, and started to suspect he was meeting with an officer. The message he got had only specified that he would meet a member of den Thelyss. It was his idea, and Essek didn’t like it, but Caleb thought his plan was good enough.
After five minutes of waiting, he heard footsteps and laughter from the corridor outside.
“You did great, Aradin,” a pleasantly deep voice said, “but you still need to work on your backstep. That’s when I get you.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“The human is waiting in your office, sir.”
“Alright, thank you. Rest well. Great work all.”
Multiple people wished each other a good rest, then the door opened and a wide shouldered and muscular drow stepped in. His hair was long and in traditional braids, and the smile he had worn for his soldiers still lingered on his handsome face, but his eyes became cold and calculating when he saw Caleb.
“Ja, hallo,” he hurried to say, holding out his hand. “My name is Caleb Widogast. The researcher you agreed to meet.”
The man hung his glaive in a stand by the bed and then shook Caleb’s hand. The skin of his palm was calloused and warm, and the grip mildly crushing.
“Verin.” He still smiled, but he did not relax. “Sorry, I've just trained my team. Do you mind?”
Caleb stood unmoving for a moment, not entirely sure what he would or wouldn’t mind, then Verin unlaced the neck of his shirt and pulled it off. The quick glance he got of hard, sculpted muscles on a sweaty torso was enough to send a rush of heat through his body, and he quickly glanced out the window, while mumbling, “no, not at all.”
“Thank you for coming all the way here.” Verin was lifting a copper basin from under the bed. “To the edge of civilization.”
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Caleb made the mistake of turning towards the man again. He had put the basin on the table and was pouring water in it from a bucket. His pecs would have made Fjord jealous. In his left nipple gleamed a little silver ring. Caleb looked at it for too long.
“It’s all been very secretive,” Verin said. He started to wash himself, completely unbothered by Caleb’s without-a-doubt red cheeks. “Can you tell me what this is all about?”
“I’m afraid I must keep much unsaid. I cannot risk the plans that wiser people than I have made.”
Verin nodded and seemed to understand. “The Bright Queen is involved. She rarely bothers with international politics.”
“Indeed, she has shown much grace and support.”
Caleb was fighting not to stare at how Verin’s abdominal muscles flexed when he scrubbed his armpits.
“She also shows some caution. I’m not a member of the Court, but I have my orders.”
Verin took some clean water and rinsed his face. It clumped his long white eyelashes together, and Caleb noticed his eyes were the same lovely shade of violet as Essek’s.
“I understand. Well, I asked for certain information regarding ley lines, and it seemed your den could provide a tome?”
Verin gave him a long look while he dried off. It made Caleb acutely aware that this drow, while still young, was probably over a century old, and as an officer very used to sniffing out bullshit.
The man put away his wash things, but to Caleb’s mortification he didn’t put on his shirt again. He just sat down and pulled out a bottle of spirits and two glasses from one of the desk drawers.
“Sit,” he said, with the confidence of a man used to having his commands followed. Caleb didn’t mind. He took the offered glass.
“To peace between our nations,” Verin said.
When Caleb drank the smokey alcohol, he noticed Verin’s eyes linger at his throat and lips.
“So, your request was very specific,” Verin continued. “‘Information about dunamis’ influence on ley lines’. Almost as if you knew we had exactly this book in our libraries. And it just happens to have belonged to the late Shadowhand, who you knew.” The room was suddenly very small, and Verin’s gaze very intense. “So what does an Empire wizard want with our former spymaster's property?”
Ah. The war did not end that long ago. He had expected some measure of questions.
“Well,” Caleb started, “I am indeed from the Empire, and I do teach occasionally at an academy in the capital.” Verin listened intently. “But I do not work for the government, but rather for an organization that wants to hold it accountable. We are gathering information about ley lines, and since the late Shadowhand had instruments to measure the ley lines built into his roof, I just assumed he was doing some research on them. It might be a longshot, but we need all the information we can get.”
Verin nodded slowly, then he said, “What are ley lines?”
Caleb smiled and answered in his teacher-voice without consciously thinking about it. “It’s the streams of magic that encompass our world. The source of power for arcane casters.”
Verin blinked a few times, then shook his head and mumbled, “Wizards.” He took one more drink before speaking. “The Bright Queen had to sign off on this, and the book has been inspected. Den Thelyss is happy to provide help for the heroes of the dynasty.”
Caleb lifted his glass in thanks. “Den Thelyss has always been very accommodating to me and my friends. From welcoming us to Rosohna, to providing us with a home.”
“And offering you tutelage and breakfast,” Verin added with a sideways glance. Caleb was not sure, but he thought he saw a flicker of something very perceptive in Verin’s eyes. He focused on holding his own expression neutral.
“Indeed. So it felt very natural to reach out when the need was dire. I'm incredibly grateful.”
They emptied their glasses, then Verin opened a drawer in his table and pulled out a book. Caleb felt a rush of relief, but when he moved to take it Verin didn't give it to him. He instead held it in his broad hand and nailed Caleb with a curious and intense stare.
“You were close with the Shadowhand.”
Caleb tried his best to seem unmoved, even as alarm bells went off in his mind. Who was this Thelyss? Caleb had assumed he was a soldier, someone who could access den property but did not care or suspect enough to ask any questions. Instead Caleb found himself pinned by an interrogator's gaze.
“Merely acquaintances. He was not one to offer friendship, and I believe that my interest in his studies was accommodated only because it was his job to stay informed of my intentions. Apologies if this all is causing you alarm or suspicion. I swear on my life that I am truly not an empire spy.”
Verin squinted for a few moments, seemingly considering something, then he poured one more drink and put the book down on the table near where he sat. If Caleb were to take it he would have to reach over. He didn’t, and just took the offered drink.
“You’re a master of the arcane?”
“A student of the arcane,” Caleb corrected with a wink.
Verin smiled a handsome smile, not shy to show his sharp teeth or dimples. It reached his eyes this time and it transformed his stern demeanor into something approachable and warm. “Ever a student, yes? As with me and my glaive. The day I stop learning is the day I die.”
“The world keeps us humble.” They clinked their glasses. “How are the incursions? We had your situation briefly explained to us before.”
“We?”
“The Mighty Nein. We passed through here once.”
“Ah. Well, they continue. The rifts are open and will apparently stay so, but we have chokepoints and the Sacrifice Engines, so we manage. How are the Mighty Nein? I’m sorry I haven’t had the opportunity to meet you before. Heroes of the Dynasty and all.”
Caleb met his eyes, watched as decades of fighting to protect the Dynasty from the Abyss flashed in his memory.
“I’m sure the time will come for an introduction. We do not adventure as often as before, of course.”
“No, fighting takes its toll.”
“Ja. You would know better than anyone.” Caleb let himself look at the many scars from claws and teeth on Verin’s shoulders.
“But you have done some trips lately?” the man continued, smiling when he saw Caleb look. “There was something with a gigantic leviathan. The rumors of the Mighty Nein saving the Menagerie Coast spread all the way up here. You are household names for us. Blessed by the Bright Queen and all. Bringing Beacons back, catching cults, arranging peace, killing demigods.”
“Well…”
“Exploring Aeor. With the Shadowhand.”
Verin had stilled as a predator but for a muscle that jumped in his jaw. It was clear to Caleb that this man didn’t miss anything. That he was passionate and observant, but also honest, and far from the complicated doublespeak that Essek said was common in den politics.
“So… I did that, yes. Not the whole Mighty Nein.”
“I know. And you came back alone.”
“What are you implying?”
“I heard he may have perished in a chasm, but I knew him. He wouldn’t do that.”
Caleb put down his glass. He could probably grab the book and teleport away. Probably. Or Verin would be warrior-fast and break his arm before he could blink.
“The Shadowhand and I got separated, as I testified to the court within a Zone of Truth,” he said carefully. “I had nothing to do with his death.” That had Essek made sure of. “The Shadowhand died in Aeor, but it was not by my hand.” The Shadowhand died, but Essek lived.
To his surprise Verin’s eyes started gleaming with unshed tears. He shook his head while looking down into his glass. “I guess I didn’t really think so. You seem like a good man, and you are a symbol for hope and peace to many of the population. I just needed to hear it with my own ears.”
Caleb breathed out and let go of the arcana that had gathered in his fingertips. Verin slid the book over to him, and he caught it.
“It was Essek’s,” Verin said and his voice was a little bit thick. “It’s the only copy we have.”
“Thank you.” Caleb gave it a little pat before tucking it in his pocket. Something prevented him from leaving immediately. Verin sat slumped in his chair, broad, strong shoulders sloping. Forearms full of veins and scars, the muscles sliding under his skin when he played with his empty glass.
“I appreciate your selection of books,” he said hesitantly, not sure if the man would be uncomfortable knowing he had pried.
“Oh, thank you.” Verin gave him a small smile. Gods, he looked good.
“Would you like to trade?”
“How?”
Caleb opened his Wristpocket and pulled out Tusk Love.
“I can leave this here if I get to borrow your novel?”
“Oh?” Verin thumbed the cover with the half orc and swooning girl, but his clever eyes lingered on where Caleb’s Wristpocket had appeared and disappeared. His gaze continued to travel over Caleb’s face as if he saw him properly for the first time. Not assessing the threat he posed, but how he looked, and his small smile seemed to indicate that he liked what he saw. Caleb looked back, and allowed himself to appreciate the handsome man properly. The cut of his jaw, the prominent cheekbones, the beautiful eyes. His fit body. He looked vaguely familiar in a way. Maybe he reminded him of Wulf, or of Essek.
“Well, I will not hold you up any longer,” he said just as Verin said,
“Do you want to stay and keep me company for the night?”
“Oh.” Caleb was stunned briefly by the man's forwardness.
“Sorry, sorry. I just thought… you were looking so much and I think gingers are cute.”
“Well… I’m flattered. And not uninterested. But I would have had to make some arrangements for that to be possible. So… maybe another time?”
“Yes. You are welcome back.”
Verin stayed sitting when Caleb got up and took the romance novel from his shelf. There was an awkward pause.
“Thank you, again, for this and for the tome. It will help tremendously.”
“Treat it with care. It’s full of annotations. Thoughts and musings of a dead man.”
“Can I teleport from here?”
“Go ahead.”
Caleb gave the book to Essek and he immediately rambled the incantation he used as the Contingency phrase. The book's middle page ripped open into a void, and when he turned it upside down ten cubic feet of spell components, books and gear tumbled out.
Essek gave a sigh of relief and started digging through the pile.
“I didn’t have time to grab this when I left and I felt like such an idiot. One moment and I’ll show you.”
“Verin seemed attached to you. Sad even, when I confirmed your death. You said you didn’t have any friends.”
“Verin? You met Verin? I thought they would send a servant or a representative or something.”
“He was extremely handsome.”
Essek wrinkled his nose and kept digging through the pile until he exclaimed in triumph.
“Here!” He pulled out a notebook and held it up in the air. “Ah! See here. This is years and years and years of research, Caleb. Fantastic. You are fantastic. This was a genius plan! With my estate’s library picked to pieces by my greedy relatives I would never have been able to find this.”
Caleb smiled at Essek’s happiness, but the man he met still lingered in his mind. “He propositioned me,” he said, knowing it would intrigue Essek. “And I was tempted. Would you have minded?”
“Verin?” Essek looked up from his beloved notes with an expression that must have been disgust. “You want to sleep with Verin?”
“Yes. Or is he your ex or something?”
Essek slapped the book shut with a dangerous glint in his eyes. The possessive spark that gave them both such a thrill.
“Oh no. You will have to get that thought out of your head.” And he glided towards where Caleb stood, levitated higher so he looked down at him along his nose. “Usually I approve of almost anyone you choose,” he purred, and raked a hand through Caleb's hair until he could grab a handful at his nape. The lingering arousal from the meeting with Verin ignited in Caleb’s belly and he gasped. “As you well know, you little minx.” He pulled Caleb’s head back until his throat was exposed, and smiled when he saw the effect it had. “I now realize my error. I have told you I have a little brother, but I never said his name.”
Realization dawned upon Caleb. Surely he should have understood that the handsome drow with Essek’s eyes was the brother turned soldier he had heard about.
“Oh,” he said intelligently. “I’m sorry.”
“No, please. Apologies for my lack of consideration. I had forgotten what a slut you are, and I should have warned you that Verin is as well, if you were to ever meet.”
“I didn’t do anything. I never do without your approval.”
Essek’s grip on his hair hardened and he smiled, and now Caleb saw that those eye teeth and dimples were the same as Verin’s.
“Good. He will not get his messy, filthy hands on you. You are mine.”
And even though Caleb never got to have both Thelyss brothers, his mind was excellent, private and wild.