Best Served Cold

[Pharaoh]

“I am about to let you both in on a very old family secret.” Phocion began, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“And one which you must keep with great care.” He added, with a sternness they would both recognise as a particular emphasis. “If you don’t feel you’re capable of keeping it, I will need to have the memory removed.” He paused for a beat.

“Raithen, you and I have an ancestor known in some circles as Phædreon Extempestus— Grandson to Phædryn Callidus, born during the final years of the conquest wars. He was too young to serve during the battle of the Rending, but he was old enough to see how things changed in its aftermath… Relations who never returned, a culture that reeled and isolated itself for preservation, when it had once spread boldly out into the world. And, most palpably, the absence of our Gods.

“This was a void in his heart he could not brook. He vowed to live to see the Founders return, and so he set himself to the task of undoing Their fall. He quit our sands and went out into the world to learn and master the Craft of Æternus. When he became the foremost practitioner of his epoch, he hied him to Kaladon and spent many years toiling to set right that fell calamity. Try though he did, he came to realise the capricious Craft could not be controlled as he willed it. Phædreon could not bring Them back in his time, so he set about the work of seeing Them return in remote posterity.

“Once a century, Phædreon returns to us, the offspring of his Gens. He spends a year amongst us and has guided us all these years to accelerate Their return and to fulfill his oath- To see Them again whilst he yet lives.

“When last he appeared, Thalya was newly crowned and he met our mother, then but a child… Though none but they know what crossed between them, I do not doubt that he laid the groundwork that led to the sundering of the Realm, the return of the Zalkyrians and much more that has yet to transpire.

“After all these sundry centuries, his toil has born fruit, and he finds himself in an age where the Founders are free once more.” Phocion smiled,

“And he returned to us just last week.”

[Raithen]

The youngest held his peace still as the eldest spun secrets out into the well-warded air. While such knowledge would never willingly pass his lips it might well be that he would ask to have the secret removed, or at least shrouded away any time he left his ancestral home for other lands.

Raithen was good at the things he had been raised to be good at and a few that (perhaps) had not been intentionally laid by his family, but he relied on them entirely where matters of the protection of his mind were concerned. All of his magic and most of his mundane abilities were firmly seated in the manipulation of the physical world, even his excellent information gathering was used only to pass information to those who would know how to use it.

The revelation made sense and did not even lessen the respect he held for his mother. Being given information could be vital but it meant nothing if one did not know how to use it. He wondered if he had been a part of this plan, or, as so many had assumed over the course of his life, if he were a whim of his mother in a life otherwise so tightly controlled.

Such a mage, with such close ties to their family, would certainly make Finn's revenge a much easier prospect but when Phocion had paused for their reactions he couldn't help asking,

"Would such a being be willing to help with something so disconnected from his goals?"

His goal, at least the one Phocion had revealed, had been fulfilled, but that did not mean he would be down to play a role in whatever adventures his family descendants desired.

[Finn]

Finn liked to think he could guard his own mind. There were a handful of Mesmers who matched him, and fewer still who could outstrip him; Arvælyn being one whose draconic power pushed him past mere mastery of the Rune of Command. Then there were the wards woven into his Sentinel blacks and the tokens worn about his person in public that kept Zalkyrian plans out of nefarious hands.

He nodded.

His eyes widened at the revelation. Phocion wasn't taken to joking, so he could but take him at his word.

His eyes cut to Raithen, then back to Phocion. He nodded. Raithen's question was germane.

"I would beg as much time with such a person as he would deign spare me. For aid and to hear the old stories from a mortal participant." He had devoured old accounts, heard insights and vignettes from dragons and demigods now, but a mortal perspective was missing.

Finn did want to understand to story he was part of.

"I could leverage my divine favor for his, I suppose," he considered. He didn't know how an elf from those times would react to a foreign human man shining with Aværys' Majesty. Were he truly devout, he would bow to the God's choice, but that hadn't stopped some dissonant whispers in the symphonies of the supposed devout before. Finn's ear heard their heartbeats beating out of time with their legato lies.

But he turned his attention back to Phocion, who seemed to have already tied the ribbon around this present for them. Best to let him have his head.

[Pharaoh]

Phocion shrugged impassively at Raithen’s question.

“That is your case to make. I can make an introduction, but this is Finn’s willful undertaking, which falls outside of his role as a Sentinel. I make no promises as to His Resplendence’s willingness to aid your endeavour.” Phocion sat back in his chair.

“At this point, Phædreon Archidux remains in his private chambers at the royal palace. Before embarking into a new epoch, he likes to study up on the chronicles of what has passed since his last visit. The Vigilia Magna outfitted him with records to review. Once he gives his leave, mother will greet him with a welcoming party. I can see that you are on it or I can put you on a wait list to be scheduled by the office of Sentinel Cithæra.” Phocion inclined his head at Finn’s proposition.

“The Emblems of the Founders fell impotent during Their imprisonment. I have little doubt His Resplendence would be, at the least, intrigued to know one of the contemporary chosen. Whatever you decide, I shall see that you are alerted whenever he emerges from reclusivity. In the meantime, Raithen, look to the Vastian House of Argenti for a legal gripe against the failson Æros. Meanwhile I shall exploit some assets in the Luxium to motion for Sælyan dismissal from the Senatus Major. One blood is in the water, I anticipate a veritable feeding frenzy. The Sanguinists are quite precious about forms and strictures and many held their tongues during His Starlit Highness’ regency for fear of incurring his mercurial wrath. I don’t think it will take much to exorcise this ghost from the Curia.” He quipped with a broad smirk.

Phocion was notoriously no fan of Æros himself, having found the deceased self-proclaimed Platinum mixed blood to have been arrogant and incompetent in equally impressive measure. Whatever ambivalence his Solunarian heart felt about Finn seeking to slay his erstwhile liege, was no concern when it came to the matter of Æros— a true aberration long overdue for correction.

[Raithen]

The younger Phædryn made several quick mental notes as the conversation continued. He would need to send gifts of greeting before broaching the topic of his claim with the House of Argenti, who held sway over his prey. His mother would know what would be both appropriate and appreciated. Hilana too might have some insight into the family. The blessing of his god he had already, which could not but assist once it was made known.

His interest in meeting this ancient scion of his of his own House was purely curiosity. Unless there were things he did not know that effected his understanding, he could offer neither useful aid nor any request to the mage. Accompanying Finn would be fascinating but there was a long list of better people to do so. It often seemed that Raithen ended up in attendance at many significant happens of his time but most often it was as a cup bearer, a distraction, a pretty, or to represent or support the strength of his family.

It truly would not have surprised him if he had been called into the presence of Phædreon simply to be sent on an errand. Such a thing would not have even caused him any discontent, it was his place and not one in which he was unhappy.

He would do as he had been instructed, follow Phocion's suggestions, await his aid with the Senate and assist Finn however he could.

[Finn]

Finn didn't quite know how to react to Phocion. Calling his quest willful was hardly a commendation, but he also wasn't standing in his way. He often wished the reserved elf would speak his mind more freely and more fully, but he wouldn't force the issue.

"If the archidux grows weary of reading, you may offer me up to sing the more recent histories as a palate cleanser," he said. It wouldn't hurt to lead with a gift that might be well-received. "Thank you."

Other than that, he left the matter as settled, and listened as Raithen's suit was addressed. Finn too wished for all these things, but was content to be the junior partner in it unless Raithen desired an equal partner. He knew a few ears he could bend with choice gossip to keep the waters suffused with Sælyan blood, and he was rather looking forward to the show Khyan would put on consuming Æros' aberrant soul.

Finn wasn't vengeful by nature, but whereas he could turn the other cheek for slights against him, Thalya had threatened his husband and Æros had sacrificed his friend not even for his own life, but so he could linger on as an undead abomination. It was neither a good deal nor a clean deal, and in the intervening time, the Sælyan gens had proven complicit.

Dracarys, as they liked to say in Auris.

"Burn them to the ground," he murmured to himself.

Were they not in Phocion's subduing presence, he might have grinned and clapped Raithen on the shoulder. He would later. For now, he rose, thinking the meeting over.

"Again, thank you. Shall we, Raithen?"