Teveriel watched the last remaining drops of water and dissolved sugar trickle through the slots of his spoon and into the milky green liquid in his chalice. He had little patience these days, a trait belied by the slow method of drinking absinthe.Â
He lifted the chalice to his lips, savoring the subtle anise flavor of his apéritif. Inwardly, the elezen frowned. He is late. Setting aside his drinking vessel, Teveriel laced his gloved fingers beneath his chin and gazed out the open door of the Quicksand. As if on queue, a dark-complexioned Lalafell bounded into the tavern and into the seat across from him.
"Excuse my tardiness, Master Anduin," the Lalafell began. "I ran into-"
"I want your information, Minabo. Not your excuses." Teveriel had a soft voice, as always, but nevertheless had a way of commanding silence when he spoke. He lifted his chalice again by the stem, swirling the liquid around with idle twists of the fingers. "What did you discover?"
Minabo smiled apologetically, mopping at his brow with a small hand. "He was in the battle, all right." He shifted slightly in his seat. "But nobody has seen him since." The Lalafell lowered his head, letting his shaggy hair hide his eyes as he watched for Teveriel's reaction.
None was forthcoming; Teveriel maintained the same expressionless mask he had worn since they escaped their Garlean captors together only a year or so prior in the north. Minabo swallowed a lump in his throat. "So many lost." he murmured.
Teveriel drained the last of his beverage and reached with a single finger to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Yes," came the single word reply.Â
He and Minabo had mourned the deaths of many and more in the Calamity's wake. Yet, however oddly, at the news of Aelurian's death he felt nothing, only a hollow sort of emptiness. He wondered idly if that was what some people meant by "a numbing pain."
Rising, Teveriel straightened his cravat and fished a number of gil from his belt pouch before placing them on the table. "Buy yourself something to eat and drink," he stated flatly. "I'm tired." Without waiting for a reply, the elezen turned and made his way to his room. He knew he would find no rest, but he hoped that his solitude, at least, would be undisturbed.
He lifted the chalice to his lips, savoring the subtle anise flavor of his apéritif. Inwardly, the elezen frowned. He is late. Setting aside his drinking vessel, Teveriel laced his gloved fingers beneath his chin and gazed out the open door of the Quicksand. As if on queue, a dark-complexioned Lalafell bounded into the tavern and into the seat across from him.
"Excuse my tardiness, Master Anduin," the Lalafell began. "I ran into-"
"I want your information, Minabo. Not your excuses." Teveriel had a soft voice, as always, but nevertheless had a way of commanding silence when he spoke. He lifted his chalice again by the stem, swirling the liquid around with idle twists of the fingers. "What did you discover?"
Minabo smiled apologetically, mopping at his brow with a small hand. "He was in the battle, all right." He shifted slightly in his seat. "But nobody has seen him since." The Lalafell lowered his head, letting his shaggy hair hide his eyes as he watched for Teveriel's reaction.
None was forthcoming; Teveriel maintained the same expressionless mask he had worn since they escaped their Garlean captors together only a year or so prior in the north. Minabo swallowed a lump in his throat. "So many lost." he murmured.
Teveriel drained the last of his beverage and reached with a single finger to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Yes," came the single word reply.Â
He and Minabo had mourned the deaths of many and more in the Calamity's wake. Yet, however oddly, at the news of Aelurian's death he felt nothing, only a hollow sort of emptiness. He wondered idly if that was what some people meant by "a numbing pain."
Rising, Teveriel straightened his cravat and fished a number of gil from his belt pouch before placing them on the table. "Buy yourself something to eat and drink," he stated flatly. "I'm tired." Without waiting for a reply, the elezen turned and made his way to his room. He knew he would find no rest, but he hoped that his solitude, at least, would be undisturbed.
