[The events in this post happen after this but before this.]
I owe him. I owe him much.
Goldwind raced up the steps to the entrance to the Church of Saint Adama Landama, a long trail of dust left in his wake. The paladin scanned the graveyard as she slid off her bird, the vermilion Brass Blade chain-mail armor rustling with her hurried steps.
Roen had rushed back to Thanalan from Gridania as soon as she had received Mister North’s letter. She had thought him safe, if she was far away from him and with his infamous employer disposed of, she thought the valet out of harms way. But he did not believe the same.
“As of the incident some days past, it has become abundantly clear to me that my presence in Ul’dah will, and only ever did, bring ruin upon those I held close and dear. It took an attempt on my life for this to become evident, but having recognized this, I can no longer allow it. I refuse to become a liability for Miss, fatal or otherwise. Tonight I will reclaim what Ul’dah has taken from me, and take my leave.â€
Roen recalled the strange distant look that had come over the valet when she left him in the infirmary, but inflicted with exhaustion and disquiet of her own, she had fled to the Shroud. As she was readying preparations to travel to La Noscea in search of Nero, the butler’s letter had arrived. Despite all that weighed upon her thoughts, the paladin could not ignore its contents.
“It has been a privilege to aid you. When you think back on our time together, I pray you remember not the allegiances, but the people that comprised them. I will do the same.â€
Gideon North was saying goodbye. Perhaps forever. Roen could not let it be. She could hardly believe that he somehow had blamed himself for the peril he found himself in, let alone believe he posed a threat to her, when he had been nothing but a pillar of strength and wisdom. She could not simply let the letter be his last farewell.
And knowing what his plans were for his previous young master, Dynitar Aerstorn, Roen knew precisely where to find the butler.
She spotted him easily amongst the tombstones, digging at the ground with a massive spade, his dark red suit stained with lichyard mulch. From the height of the dirt pile next to him, the paladin could tell he had been at this for awhile. His movements stopped when the spade thunked dully against a wooden surface beneath his feet.
“Mister North,†Roen called out, pulling off her turban and mask.
"Miss Deneith,†he answered, but did not turn to face her. “I should have known better than to dally overlong driving off the attendant."
"So... you are truly leaving?"
"I have little other option, Miss. I am now a target. Our connection must be severed." He returned to digging, still not looking at her.
The paladin approached him slowly, looking about the lonely graveyard. "You were in employment of a man who has now gone missing. Are you certain you were the target?"
Gideon sighed. "Miss, losing one master is a misfortune. Losing two is a pattern. And being the target of a direct assault? As my master was the target of a calculated effort to eradicate his family?"
"Neither was a failure on your part. Nor do the fault of their misfortunes fall upon you!"
He spared her a glance. "If you tell me that this is a coincidence, Miss, you demean me, my masters, and their memory."
Roen shook her head, her expression sorrowful but still determined. "Not a coincidence. But also not your fault."
"Fault has no part in it. The fish has no fault in being caught. But Miss cannot deny that I am now a target, and that those most closely connected with me are, little by little, eradicated." He exhaled sharply as he returned to his task. "This is the safe way, Miss. Leave."
She watched him clear away the remaining dirt covering the coffin, then her gaze strayed to the objects near the dirt pile next to him: a collection of bone shards, strange humours, and some other odds and ends. She knitted her brows. “I do not wish you talk you out of anything you wish to do. Or what you think is best for you or your young master. But..." She paused, her voice softening. "I do not wish to say goodbye."
The next glance he gave her sharp. "Did Miss not hear me? This is necessity. Wishes have no part in it. Leave."
Roen straightened. "I did. Loud and clear." She stepped towards him. "I will not go. I promised to aid you." She swallowed and gestured to the coffin. "...In this." There was a slight constriction to her throat as she reminded him of the task she had agreed to long time ago. It was when she had revealed to the valet that Nero had been the one that killed his former masters. She was desperate to commit to some kind of recompense for the man, to comfort him in his time of distress. Even if it involved the very unnatural process of trying to bring back the dead, under whatever circumstances.
That made Gideon blink. "...You still intend to, then...?"
She frowned but nodded. "I said I would."
He stared at her for a moment longer, before beckoning her. "Help me pull this out." He lowered himself to the side of the grave, grunting as he gripped one corner of the coffin.
Roen hid a grimace as she lowered herself as well, taking hold of the other end even as she eyed the broad coffin, one that was of a Roegadyn’s body size. When the two heaved it up and out of the dirt hole it was in, she found it somewhat lighter than expected. She stared at the dirt covered coffin as the valet looked over it anxiously. She wanted to silently ask for its forgiveness for the disturbance of its rest.
Gideon then ran to the dirt pile and his collection of items next to them, sorting through it with frantic energy. “Can you open it?†he called out to her.
“I may be able to wedge my sword in between the seams to loosen the nail…†She knelt beside the coffin, fingering the edges. But even those words came slow and hesitant.
"Please, Miss." Gideon turned and stood by the coffin, massaging his fingers. He stood watch as she worked the scimitar into the corner, wiggling it deeper then using the hilt as a pivot to loosen the nails. “We will right this wrong, we will fix this flaw,†he whispered, a wide-eyed electric intensity to his gaze.
"Mister North..." Roen paused after the third corner was loosened. “Is the research complete? On what has to be done? What will happen?â€
"Enough, Miss, enough that I have something to go on, but we have no time!†The valet answered impatiently, waving her concern off. “I have no time! I have to use the means available to me.â€
"Why the hurry? Should this not be done right?"
"It will be done right. I will do it right." He knelt by the coffin, as if staring at it would open it faster. "I cannot stay any longer. We must go. The young master has been here long enough."
Roen approached the fourth and final corner of the coffin. "Mister North. It is best to do these things precisely. I know not the exact science of such things but..." She exhaled with a grim expression. "So much is at risk. Do not let an assault by a masked man, or assumptions that may not be entirely true, rush you into things that you will regret later!"
Gideon shook his head, frowning. "Should I not have let you persuade me to enter Taeros's employ, Miss? That I might 'regret' it later? This is far more important than anything I have ever done, anything I have ever been!"
Roen stiffened, staring at him. "That is precisely why you cannot hurry through this."
The butler did not want to listen. "It is why I cannot afford to wait, Miss. I cannot miss this chance. My only chance." He glanced nervously toward the church. "They could be here any moment. I cannot stay here. And I cannot allow him to stay here. I should not even have allowed you to stay here." He paused, staring back at her.
"Did you really intend on helping me at all?" His words were cold, accusatory, and with a tinge of desperation.
Roen blinked, her jaw set. She knelt down and worked her blade into the fourth corner to loosen the last of the nails. As soon as the nails popped off, the valet lunged down and scrabbled at the lid, his face twisted with wide-eyed expectation. Old wood clattered to the ground as he all but tore off the lid. But the contents within froze both of them.
The coffin was full of nothing but a half-fulm of sand.
"I-I..." Gideon fell back stunned from the coffin, his mouth hanging open. His eyes darted this way and that, from the head of the coffin to the foot of it, as if to disbelieve what he was seeing. Then he swallowed and lunged forward again, scrambling on all fours as if to try and get to the side of the coffin. He leaned over the side and furiously pushed aside the sand within as if digging deeper would bring a new discovery.
"No. No no no no no no, no, no..."
Roen stood still, watching as the valet frantically raked through the dirt with hooked fingers.
“...Where is he?†He gasped. “WHERE IS HE!?†The valet nearly collapsed from the force of the yell; he immediately turned to the church, in apparent fear, then hurried behind the grave--hiding. He buried his face in his hands.
The paladin knelt by his side, her voice firm. “Mister North! He is not here.â€
“I… I…†Gideon seemed lost. His eyes glistened as he looked about. Finally when he exhaled his held breath, his frame slumped forward. "He is... not here."
Roen put a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "But he must be somewhere."
The valet slowly turned his gaze back to her. "Miss Deneith..." He paused, swallowing. "...Roen, what should I do?"
She let out a patient exhale. "If he is not in the coffin that was intended for him, under a tombstone that bears his name... then there was a purpose as to why someone would go through such lengths to make others think that he was." Her hand lowered to his, gripping it tight. "We will find out what that purpose is."
Gideon nodded, his breathing starting to calm.
"Perhaps this will lead you closer to the truth of things. And... maybe the true whereabouts of your young master's remains." She bowed her head slightly, as if peer up at him as she continued to hold his attention. "There must be records. Who arranged for the burial, the production of the tombstone. Someone must know something.â€
"...I... I see." The valet closed his eyes. "So, I... I am to return, after all?" He let out a hollow laugh.
Roen curled a reassuring smile, the best one she could muster. "You are to do... whatever you wish to do, Gideon. But this is not the end of your journey yet." She leaned back as she released his hand, placing her own upon her lap.
Gideon stared off into the distance. "...I'm…†he began, then shook his head. "I'm going to have to fill in this entire... godsdamned grave again,†he said flatly. But soon as those words left his lips he blinked, glancing back at her guiltily.
"And to say such things to Miss, after all that she has been through..." He cleared his throat.
Roen exhaled, suddenly reminded of her weariness. She glanced away just for a moment, looking to the church as if to collect herself. When she turned back to Gideon again, it was still with that faint curl to her lips, and the fondness to her gaze remained for him all the same.
"If it was not for you, I would still be in that cell,†she said softly.
"And if not for Miss, I would still be hiding in Gridania."
"Then we are a fortunate pair for meeting each other, aye?" the paladin murmured as she rose, dusting herself off. She extended her hand out to the valet, who took it and stood as well.
"Yes, Miss Deneith. And what harm could befall such a lucky duo?" He spoke with a tired warmth.
Her lip twitched for a moment, as if to threaten a grin. “Indeed.†Roen regarded him for a moment longer before turning toward the church. "I will go seek out a shovel. I am certain we can fill this before anyone notices." She began to pull the turban and the mask over her eyes again, to resume her Brass Blades disguise.
"Now then,†the valet muttered as he walked alongside her. “Fill in grave, book a room, wash my face, do damage control."
"Aye. The face. It could use a wash." She curled a wry expression as the two headed to the church, leaving the empty coffin behind them.
I owe him. I owe him much.
Goldwind raced up the steps to the entrance to the Church of Saint Adama Landama, a long trail of dust left in his wake. The paladin scanned the graveyard as she slid off her bird, the vermilion Brass Blade chain-mail armor rustling with her hurried steps.
Roen had rushed back to Thanalan from Gridania as soon as she had received Mister North’s letter. She had thought him safe, if she was far away from him and with his infamous employer disposed of, she thought the valet out of harms way. But he did not believe the same.
“As of the incident some days past, it has become abundantly clear to me that my presence in Ul’dah will, and only ever did, bring ruin upon those I held close and dear. It took an attempt on my life for this to become evident, but having recognized this, I can no longer allow it. I refuse to become a liability for Miss, fatal or otherwise. Tonight I will reclaim what Ul’dah has taken from me, and take my leave.â€
Roen recalled the strange distant look that had come over the valet when she left him in the infirmary, but inflicted with exhaustion and disquiet of her own, she had fled to the Shroud. As she was readying preparations to travel to La Noscea in search of Nero, the butler’s letter had arrived. Despite all that weighed upon her thoughts, the paladin could not ignore its contents.
“It has been a privilege to aid you. When you think back on our time together, I pray you remember not the allegiances, but the people that comprised them. I will do the same.â€
Gideon North was saying goodbye. Perhaps forever. Roen could not let it be. She could hardly believe that he somehow had blamed himself for the peril he found himself in, let alone believe he posed a threat to her, when he had been nothing but a pillar of strength and wisdom. She could not simply let the letter be his last farewell.
And knowing what his plans were for his previous young master, Dynitar Aerstorn, Roen knew precisely where to find the butler.
She spotted him easily amongst the tombstones, digging at the ground with a massive spade, his dark red suit stained with lichyard mulch. From the height of the dirt pile next to him, the paladin could tell he had been at this for awhile. His movements stopped when the spade thunked dully against a wooden surface beneath his feet.
“Mister North,†Roen called out, pulling off her turban and mask.
"Miss Deneith,†he answered, but did not turn to face her. “I should have known better than to dally overlong driving off the attendant."
"So... you are truly leaving?"
"I have little other option, Miss. I am now a target. Our connection must be severed." He returned to digging, still not looking at her.
The paladin approached him slowly, looking about the lonely graveyard. "You were in employment of a man who has now gone missing. Are you certain you were the target?"
Gideon sighed. "Miss, losing one master is a misfortune. Losing two is a pattern. And being the target of a direct assault? As my master was the target of a calculated effort to eradicate his family?"
"Neither was a failure on your part. Nor do the fault of their misfortunes fall upon you!"
He spared her a glance. "If you tell me that this is a coincidence, Miss, you demean me, my masters, and their memory."
Roen shook her head, her expression sorrowful but still determined. "Not a coincidence. But also not your fault."
"Fault has no part in it. The fish has no fault in being caught. But Miss cannot deny that I am now a target, and that those most closely connected with me are, little by little, eradicated." He exhaled sharply as he returned to his task. "This is the safe way, Miss. Leave."
She watched him clear away the remaining dirt covering the coffin, then her gaze strayed to the objects near the dirt pile next to him: a collection of bone shards, strange humours, and some other odds and ends. She knitted her brows. “I do not wish you talk you out of anything you wish to do. Or what you think is best for you or your young master. But..." She paused, her voice softening. "I do not wish to say goodbye."
The next glance he gave her sharp. "Did Miss not hear me? This is necessity. Wishes have no part in it. Leave."
Roen straightened. "I did. Loud and clear." She stepped towards him. "I will not go. I promised to aid you." She swallowed and gestured to the coffin. "...In this." There was a slight constriction to her throat as she reminded him of the task she had agreed to long time ago. It was when she had revealed to the valet that Nero had been the one that killed his former masters. She was desperate to commit to some kind of recompense for the man, to comfort him in his time of distress. Even if it involved the very unnatural process of trying to bring back the dead, under whatever circumstances.
That made Gideon blink. "...You still intend to, then...?"
She frowned but nodded. "I said I would."
He stared at her for a moment longer, before beckoning her. "Help me pull this out." He lowered himself to the side of the grave, grunting as he gripped one corner of the coffin.
Roen hid a grimace as she lowered herself as well, taking hold of the other end even as she eyed the broad coffin, one that was of a Roegadyn’s body size. When the two heaved it up and out of the dirt hole it was in, she found it somewhat lighter than expected. She stared at the dirt covered coffin as the valet looked over it anxiously. She wanted to silently ask for its forgiveness for the disturbance of its rest.
Gideon then ran to the dirt pile and his collection of items next to them, sorting through it with frantic energy. “Can you open it?†he called out to her.
“I may be able to wedge my sword in between the seams to loosen the nail…†She knelt beside the coffin, fingering the edges. But even those words came slow and hesitant.
"Please, Miss." Gideon turned and stood by the coffin, massaging his fingers. He stood watch as she worked the scimitar into the corner, wiggling it deeper then using the hilt as a pivot to loosen the nails. “We will right this wrong, we will fix this flaw,†he whispered, a wide-eyed electric intensity to his gaze.
"Mister North..." Roen paused after the third corner was loosened. “Is the research complete? On what has to be done? What will happen?â€
"Enough, Miss, enough that I have something to go on, but we have no time!†The valet answered impatiently, waving her concern off. “I have no time! I have to use the means available to me.â€
"Why the hurry? Should this not be done right?"
"It will be done right. I will do it right." He knelt by the coffin, as if staring at it would open it faster. "I cannot stay any longer. We must go. The young master has been here long enough."
Roen approached the fourth and final corner of the coffin. "Mister North. It is best to do these things precisely. I know not the exact science of such things but..." She exhaled with a grim expression. "So much is at risk. Do not let an assault by a masked man, or assumptions that may not be entirely true, rush you into things that you will regret later!"
Gideon shook his head, frowning. "Should I not have let you persuade me to enter Taeros's employ, Miss? That I might 'regret' it later? This is far more important than anything I have ever done, anything I have ever been!"
Roen stiffened, staring at him. "That is precisely why you cannot hurry through this."
The butler did not want to listen. "It is why I cannot afford to wait, Miss. I cannot miss this chance. My only chance." He glanced nervously toward the church. "They could be here any moment. I cannot stay here. And I cannot allow him to stay here. I should not even have allowed you to stay here." He paused, staring back at her.
"Did you really intend on helping me at all?" His words were cold, accusatory, and with a tinge of desperation.
Roen blinked, her jaw set. She knelt down and worked her blade into the fourth corner to loosen the last of the nails. As soon as the nails popped off, the valet lunged down and scrabbled at the lid, his face twisted with wide-eyed expectation. Old wood clattered to the ground as he all but tore off the lid. But the contents within froze both of them.
The coffin was full of nothing but a half-fulm of sand.
"I-I..." Gideon fell back stunned from the coffin, his mouth hanging open. His eyes darted this way and that, from the head of the coffin to the foot of it, as if to disbelieve what he was seeing. Then he swallowed and lunged forward again, scrambling on all fours as if to try and get to the side of the coffin. He leaned over the side and furiously pushed aside the sand within as if digging deeper would bring a new discovery.
"No. No no no no no no, no, no..."
Roen stood still, watching as the valet frantically raked through the dirt with hooked fingers.
“...Where is he?†He gasped. “WHERE IS HE!?†The valet nearly collapsed from the force of the yell; he immediately turned to the church, in apparent fear, then hurried behind the grave--hiding. He buried his face in his hands.
The paladin knelt by his side, her voice firm. “Mister North! He is not here.â€
“I… I…†Gideon seemed lost. His eyes glistened as he looked about. Finally when he exhaled his held breath, his frame slumped forward. "He is... not here."
Roen put a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "But he must be somewhere."
The valet slowly turned his gaze back to her. "Miss Deneith..." He paused, swallowing. "...Roen, what should I do?"
She let out a patient exhale. "If he is not in the coffin that was intended for him, under a tombstone that bears his name... then there was a purpose as to why someone would go through such lengths to make others think that he was." Her hand lowered to his, gripping it tight. "We will find out what that purpose is."
Gideon nodded, his breathing starting to calm.
"Perhaps this will lead you closer to the truth of things. And... maybe the true whereabouts of your young master's remains." She bowed her head slightly, as if peer up at him as she continued to hold his attention. "There must be records. Who arranged for the burial, the production of the tombstone. Someone must know something.â€
"...I... I see." The valet closed his eyes. "So, I... I am to return, after all?" He let out a hollow laugh.
Roen curled a reassuring smile, the best one she could muster. "You are to do... whatever you wish to do, Gideon. But this is not the end of your journey yet." She leaned back as she released his hand, placing her own upon her lap.
Gideon stared off into the distance. "...I'm…†he began, then shook his head. "I'm going to have to fill in this entire... godsdamned grave again,†he said flatly. But soon as those words left his lips he blinked, glancing back at her guiltily.
"And to say such things to Miss, after all that she has been through..." He cleared his throat.
Roen exhaled, suddenly reminded of her weariness. She glanced away just for a moment, looking to the church as if to collect herself. When she turned back to Gideon again, it was still with that faint curl to her lips, and the fondness to her gaze remained for him all the same.
"If it was not for you, I would still be in that cell,†she said softly.
"And if not for Miss, I would still be hiding in Gridania."
"Then we are a fortunate pair for meeting each other, aye?" the paladin murmured as she rose, dusting herself off. She extended her hand out to the valet, who took it and stood as well.
"Yes, Miss Deneith. And what harm could befall such a lucky duo?" He spoke with a tired warmth.
Her lip twitched for a moment, as if to threaten a grin. “Indeed.†Roen regarded him for a moment longer before turning toward the church. "I will go seek out a shovel. I am certain we can fill this before anyone notices." She began to pull the turban and the mask over her eyes again, to resume her Brass Blades disguise.
"Now then,†the valet muttered as he walked alongside her. “Fill in grave, book a room, wash my face, do damage control."
"Aye. The face. It could use a wash." She curled a wry expression as the two headed to the church, leaving the empty coffin behind them.
