Six drinks in and Adrian was beginning to feel a little warm. After his outburst, he had gone into the room he was borrowing, hit his palm a few times, then went out and paid for an escort rather than bother with the woman he had nearly hit. She had gone anyway, likely preferring to spend her time with Wren rather than him.
Adrian slid a sweaty palm across his forehead. He palmed his tankard, briefly looking to his side then snapping his attention back, suddenly sober as the Dark Stranger sidled up beside him at the empty bar.
The owner, Mason, was currently running an errand with a recent addition to the guild. Adrian had simply helped himself while he was out.
“I don’t need a drink today, Giarmund.” The Stranger said, tapping their gloved fingers on the counter top beside Adrian’s tankard. “Neither do you, for your reckless, drunkard behavior nearly ruined the story!” They chuckled at this one. Adrian only grimaced and kept his eyes from the individual beside him. “Ah, but I didn’t come here to berate you. Instead, I regret to inform you that I’m stepping away from this part of the tale.”
“What?” Adrian croaked.
“Ahh, aha, this is only temporary. The tale is shifting focus, with Adrian Giarmund taking a backseat to his beloved.”
“My…Beloved…”
“Aye, for once I am needed elsewhere.” Holding up a finger, the Stranger dared Adrian to look their way. “I must admit that I find her intriguing, and I look forward to her invoking my power as I shall certainly revel in her own.”
“You can’t!” Adrian slammed his fist into the counter, his reddened, burning eyes glaring into the soft hazel gaze of Reaver Giarmund. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”
The face of his father grinned, then shifted into a multitude of others, one bearing the likeness of Adrian’s mother. Finally, it settled into hooded darkness as the Dark Stranger stood with their hands held behind their back.
“Now now, Adrian, as I said this is only temporary. She may be in need of my services soon, and I aim to provide.” Placing a finger to the darkness in their hood, the Stranger made a shushing motion. “As beautiful as she is, our dear Veleria does not have a face I can take. I will return with time, so please…Enjoy the silence.” They whispered the last part, then disappeared just as Adrian reached out to grab them.
Immediately he tore into his room and turned the entire place upside down. The mask was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck!” He screamed. He rammed his fist into a pillow, then pulled it against his face to torture himself with images of Veleria and the bright red ribbon in her hair that he liked so much.
Adrian Giarmund would eventually fall asleep with drying tears on his cheeks.
* * *
The man was hardly impressive. Melissa scrunched her nose when Caed first walked into the shop with Veleria, and gave Wren a quick look that showcased her opinion. As usual, the shopkeeper was only all too happy to show Caed to his room while Veleria walked off to her own.
When she first walked in she didn’t spot it. She flicked the starter for the lamp, and then she felt something—someone, rather, pull her attention towards the vanity in the far corner. Like when she went to the cathedral and had suddenly found herself capable of discerning a language she could not know, sitting against the mirror was a white, featureless mask that she immediately placed as the Mask of Many Faces.
She picked it up and turned it around in her hands. It was unremarkable. Why was it here, and not with Adrian? Had he dropped it off? Why? That seemed unlike him.
“Speak of the devil,” Caed said from the doorway.
She turned to him with the mask still held in her hands, “why is it here?”
“You really are in the eye of the gods right now.” He shook his head, taking a seat at the end of her bed. “They all want a piece of you.” Clicking his tongue, Caed gestured for her to join him. She did so, her gaze lingering on the mask.
“Was it the same for you? Did Istvar manipulate you into pursuing me?”
“Ahhhh,” Caed cleared his throat. “I won’t pretend that it’s unlikely, but I definitely did that by my own will. The thought of you escaping me was torture. Had to have you, I guess.” He tried to pull her close but winced. She was on the side of his bad arm. Instead, Veleria leaned into him.
“I try not to think about it, but I guess I don’t feel so strongly about the wrongness of it all because things are hardly normal for me now. For a while there I struggled to differentiate between me and Caellach.”
The sorcerer raised his brow, “bet that was unpleasant. Do you still have issues with that?”
“Not so much. I think I pissed him off when I let you and Istvar trip through his past.” She focused on the mask. “I haven’t had any dreams including him since we arrived here. Sometimes I do feel him react, when my chest gets hot, but I think he needs time.”
Caed rubbed her arm. He said, “we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t think you’ve spoken to Cromwell much since coming here. But if you ask me I think you nearly scared Raker with that little display you did.”
Veleria blinked, “you were awake when I asked Caellach for help?”
“I’m a little pathetic physicality wise, but I was trying to stay conscious after Raker nearly tore my back out.” He moved one of her hands off the mask to hold it in his own. “I felt it as much as he did. Same thing as when I captured you, except I think you would have actually done it this time. Whatever power Caellach has would have killed that sonofabitch.”
In the described moment she was both aware and not. She had known that it was not her doing it, but Caellach’s pull over her also meant that she could hardly see the difference between them.
Assuming that he failed to get away in time, she and Caellach would have torched the shapeshifter. Yet, in that moment Cromwell had intervened. While she was confident that the execution would have gone off, it wasn’t as if Veleria knew for certain.
“I’m glad that I wasn’t able to use it when you captured me.” She said quietly.
“Ha, I would have deserved it, and I honestly still wonder if it isn’t Istvar keeping my sorry ass alive. It would take her a while to get her eye in the right hands again, but…Ah, well, dwelling on the past doesn’t do much good. Ya didn’t kill me, and now I’ll hopefully get this damned curse off my body.”
“Curse…Oh, you have Valcoth’s mark.” She hadn’t seen too much when they did their stint at his cabin, but Veleria had caught a few glimpses of the aforementioned curse. It was a small two-pronged “bite” mark with a half circle above it located on his upper left thigh.
“Yeah, and it nearly fucked everything up.” Caed leaned in, kissed her forehead, and stood up. Their fingers lingered intertwined, but separated as Caed went for the door. “Sleep well, Vel. I’m going to take advantage of our rich benefactor’s bougie furniture and finally get a half decent amount of it myself.”