Pulling Strings (Private, Milo)

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

TS: Towards the end of Cycle 4, Melora, Spring, XIV


So… he was going to steal the Regent for a night on the town.

That didn’t seem like too much trouble, did it?

After all, Eren had been in and out of Chelseanna for months now, and he knew the layout of the city intimately well – perhaps better than those who’d lived eternities upon the small island port. It was one thing to walk about the streets at night and day, quite another to fly above them. The former espionage fiend had a knack for laying out floor plans and maps, and the city was no different – he was confident in every little nook, every little cranny, every little snaking alleyway that went about like an insidious argument, twisting and winding its way from street to street, subject to idea.

Eren appeared outside of Milo’s door a candlemark before sundown, addressing the obligatory Rosemen outside the small (or, he supposed, rather large and luxurious) room with a curt nod and a request to announce his presence. Notes and details had actually been written out in a savvy report and given directly to Gwygwin the brightening before, spelling out the list of potential activities the two might escape toward. Although Eren’s house wasn’t exactly on the agenda, it too had been provided and addressed. The plan, naturally, was to treat Milo to a rather sumptuous meal at a low-kept tavern, then take a tour of the Piazza at sunset before heading towards the Academy for a private violinist session. Eren was no player himself, but from what he had gauged from Nikki’s comments nights before, he had an insight that Milo himself had practiced upon occasion – and besides, private showings could be all well and fun in their own right regardless.

He stood resting against the wall, a slight lean to his slender composure, dark royal blue cloak clasped by a silver brooch of elven design that glinted off a peculiar gleam in the candlelight from the hallway’s lighting. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, brown chocolate hair thrown back in a loose ponytail, almond-shaped eyes flitting between the door and the guard that remained – the other having stepped inside to inform the Regent. Idly, the Elementalist mused whether or not he’d be entertaining an entourage of men tonight, and if such were the case, how odd they’d look walking down the street. A small smile played off his lips at the thought, and he stood up and ran a hand through his hair as he waited, shifting his weight from his toes to his heels in the ever-present black leather boots he so coveted.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Arrangements had been put in place by the ever efficient Sir James for those security members both going along and staying behind, children kissed and tickled, excuses made to all the ladies present…A handful of candlemarks and no more, he’d told Nellie with a kiss, Gwygwin would know how to reach him if need be and right quick besides. A harmless evening out with a friend unexpectedly encountered their first brightening on the isle, they’d be sure to behave themselves, he’d explained while teasing her with another kiss, and an indication she’d be meeting the fellow in question herself very soon in fact should things proceed between he and Nikki as they seemed to be. All said though, should Erenthril have developed any thinking that Sir James would allow an evening without the usual entourage along, it was thinking come to one simple conclusion in the end. Not a chance.

Nevertheless, it was Sir Pious, a tall and broad half elf of dark eyes and darker hair pulled neatly back, his disposition no more jovial than any of his cohorts by the looks of him, who met the visitor at the door, took introductions and then stepped quietly inside the private suite to fetch the Regent after a quick knock on the door. It wasn’t long before a number of men came trailing out, the slightly shorter than the rest Regent almost hidden amongst them before they’d all managed to shuffle into the hallway, which not surprisingly got somewhat crowded right quick when taking account of six Rosemen, one personal bodyguard and one pale faced and dark haired wizard strung out to only a small degree. All dressed in plain clothing aside of being armed to the teeth, Milo too save the weapon.

Eugene had been at it again prior to their departure from Prime and as a result Milo was dressed in cream colored trousers and a three quarter length frockcoat over a cranberry silk shirt. Hair unbound, given no need to stand on ceremony. After working his way from between two Rosemen in search of the elf, it came to be apparent that too much sun earlier that brightening had left him with a somewhat pink nose and forehead, but otherwise it seemed time on the isle was doing him good. ”Erenthril, what say you we get going before I develop a nasty case of claustrophobia,” he said with a good natured grin while indicating to Sir James his readiness to depart. ”So what have you planned for us this evening my friend. Keep in mind I’ve taken a vow of good behavior.”

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

“Good behavior?” he grinned, clapping Milo on the shoulders in a somewhat sheepish half-embrace before he stepped back and accidentally bumped into one of the Rosemen. Muttering his apologies, Eren’s eyes shifted between the six, seven, eight or so individuals around him. Delightful company they must be, he figured, and to have them accompany the poor man wherever he went. Granted taking the vows of the Empire into one’s hands and running it abroad would certainly develop a few enemies in all the wrong places, so they seemed necessary, Eren still couldn’t for the life of him imagine what pains and sufferings the poor human endured when it ever came to nostalgia and the whimsical days of the past.

“Hopefully that doesn’t exclude fine wine then, Milo, because I know of a rather good place down bayside of the Port that has a most-excellent Pracenda,” Eren’s eyes danced back to Milo eventually, a small smile genuinely accompanying them. It was hard to look at Milo without smiling, partly because of the circumstances of their friendship, partly because Eren would have never figured himself befriending the Regent. Hand toying with the brooch to his cloak, Eren led the way out of the tavern at a meandering pace.

“So what do you think of the island so far? I think it’s one of the more enjoyable spots I’ve vacationed,” he chuckled, hands shuffling into his pockets as the pair exited the Inn and took a southerly route. The place they were headed was a small home-turned-restaurant that Eren had observed on one of his many night outings. The meals there were simple, but filling. How the old couple did it was beyond the Elflord’s comprehension, but they also imported in a fine port wine that held the sweetest tingling titillation of apple and apricot. It was really more of a desert wine, to be sure, but Eren had quickly adopted it as a new favorite. Even against the stalwart old Medonian Red.

Shaking his head, he led the slow symphony down the street, casting the ever so often glance at his companion.

[Milo L'Evienne]

”It’s never excluded the partaking of fine wine Erenthril, nor brandy nor bourbon, etcetera, etcetera…” Milo quipped with a wry grin while the pair, or rather ten of them made off down the hallway and towards the stairs. ”How do you think I manage all this?” added far quieter indeed. He was joking of course and clear enough, mostly, wildly exaggerating maybe, but there were precious few he’d have made such a jest around, given some ambitious climber might just grab the gauntlet and run with it. He’d managed quite enough scandal already no doubt to last him a lifetime without adding another to the mix. Meantime, eight full grown men had managed somewhat of a formation around them as they left the tavern and dressed in plain clothing, they’d make quite a sight for curious onlookers.

When asked his impressions of the isle, he pondered it a moment while mentally comparing what distinctions he’d noted between this and Ieffreon. As opposed to Alleria Prime of course, the distinction was like darkening and brightening. ”It’s a world away from Prime of course, that like looking out from between the bars of a gilded cage at a tarnished landscape. The capitol city,” he shrugged and frowned while they strolled.

”Many say it seems cold since the time it was first reopened, after the Ancient Allerians left, as if it lacks a soul. Her governor and I have been working on that, trying to restore her vitality and make her come alive again, its coming along I think but it’s slow going. This place on the other hand seems uncommonly alive, aside of the spirit of its populace. Colorful, energetic, it would be nice to be able to take some of that back to Prime and make it stick. Nellie and I are quite taken with it already to the extent we’ll be looking at some properties here. I can understand why you chose the same. Maybe we’ll be neighbors one brightening yes?” he said with a crooked grin.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Eren smiled softly. Neighbors with the Regent, hopefully ex-Regent by then. Yes, that would be quite nice.

He nodded. “Wouldn’t it? I have a nagging feeling though that the opportunity for such is a far stretch from us now though, Milo,” he shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his hands back out of his pockets, stretching his arms lazily and tossing a glance to the side. There was a very nice potted fern resting against the doorway of a wall there. “But so long as we get to run off and evade responsibility every once in a while - …oh, we’re here,” he stopped walking suddenly and gestured to a small pathway that trotted off away from the cobbled street through a vista of planted palms and shrubbery.

Tucked away beyond the dirt path, which was dotted with the occasional flat stepping stone, was a small bungalow. The roof dipped quite neatly before stretching out a little beyond the walls, Cyprus wood creating a nice rustic mahogany teal to the walls and front porch area that sported several rocking chairs. Two old men were playing a board game right outside, smoking two pipes and musing about the day’s work. Inside, dim lightning tilted off of opaque glasses and filtered through to the outside world, harboring an otherwise well-kept secret of Chelseanna. The verdant emerald plant life that surrounded the small villa was what made it naturally appealing, and the trickling lilt of a small pond drifted nearby as Eren turned into the path and tossed a wry grin back at Milo and the entourage.

Leading Milo to the door, it opened to reveal a small little hallway that immediately branched off into two rooms on both the left and right. Tables were placed strategically to make up for small space, and Eren quickly ducked into the left hall and took up a seat at a corner table for four. A window gazed over a small palm bush at a treeline to their right. There were several open tables available, and the only other visitors to the small low-time restaurant was a Chelseannan couple in the right hall whispering in low hushed tones. Milo’s presence had gone unnoticed, for the most part.

“So, Milo, tell me a little something about yourself I didn’t know previously?” Eren began the small-talk as he lifted up the already filled glasses of water. Two candles stood atop the table, along with a basket of bread and some small plates allotted for each seat. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, before shaking his head and nodding to the Regent, “it’s clean.” Elementalism’s finesse over water had its perks, and albeit he doubted the Black Rose would take his word for it, Eren sipped his own glass quite happily before taking out a deck of cards and handing it over to Milo to shuffle.

[Milo L'Evienne]

”I know that nagging feeling,” Milo had said, grudgingly, while veering off in the direction indicated by a potted plant and a gesture from his friend. A change in direction smoothly navigated and without a hitch, for the party trailing along after them having had eras even before their current sovereign to practice such maneuvers. More so these past two eras, given their charge was somewhat of an impulsive fellow and given to up and running here or there without warning. Only Gwygwin hadn’t quite mastered the starts, stops and turns so smoothly as the rest, though Milo was given to wondering if the old wizard did it deliberately just to toy with his more stoic fellows in arms.

”I occasionally manage running off, not accounting for eight or so fellows trailing after me. But responsibility, it’s an uncanny knack for tracking me down these brightenings. What happens I guess when your employer enjoys a particular level of divinity,” he added, a crooked grin and a dry tone marking their arrival at the bungalow. It was an appealing place, Milo noted. Off the beaten path, away from the madding crowd. Nothing like it in Prime no doubt and he imagined he might have gotten away without his entourage, though Sir James would have quickly assured him that he’d have not.

Still, his guards were obliging enough to scatter once Erenthril found them a table and as suspected, the gods themselves might have put their stamp of approval on the liquid in his glass, and Sir James would still have his turn at duty. Clean, he noted with a nod and with a wry grin and a shake of his head as the Knight slipped away, Milo took the cards with a curious lift of his brow.

”Something you didn’t know previously?” he repeated while toying with the deck, eras of familiarity at his father’s side and since then assuring he knew what to do with them. Shuffling one handed and two then back again, acrobatics of sorts and sleights of hand without a thought while he pondered the question. ”I’m terrified of rodents. Small ones, large ones, cages, on the loose, doesn’t matter. I’m not sure where the fear comes from but I remember getting lost in the tunnels of Herrozal when I was after looking for a cure for the pox. Pitch dark, cold and damp, completely lost and any minute I might have come headlong into a band of vyssies ready to kill or enslave me. For all that it might have none of it worried me much, this notion of impending death at every turn. But what unnerved me most was the far off skittering sounds I was sure must have been rats. And you know what’s all the more ridiculous Eren?” he added with a grin while cutting the deck of cards several times with one hand.

”There’s a small chapel in the Palace, not the large cathedral but a nice, quiet place. The priestess in residence is a mousai. Small thing, big brown eyes, button nose, velvet ears…As unimposing as you can imagine. Gods bless her she terrifies me,” he chuckled with a shrug and handed over the cards. ”Your turn I think.”

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Eren offered a crooked grin at Milo’s quip, he himself having the rather unfortunate experience of dealing with the so called playmakers upstairs. “I’m not a huge fan of the Aetherians myself these days…particularly the lesser deities,” Eren offered a brief sigh, eyeing Milo up for a second. He blinked once or twice, and his cheeks flushed a pale red color. Had he seriously never divulged in Milo his ties to Phedos? Almost a tongue in cheek moment, Eren felt like slapping himself on the head. Looking back at their intricate past, it was clear enough that the situation had never arisen, nor had there been any reason to warrant such confidential information. The Elflord almost frowned at the thought of it. There was quite a bit about himself Milo wasn’t aware of – and to be more acute – quite a bit of that was important.

“Ah,” Eren remarked about Milo’s fear of rodenti, or rodents in general, but it was obvious the Elementalist had himself sidetracked for a moment. Did it make any sense to tell Milo at this point? Yes and no…. probably the latter, but the issue was bugging Erenthril. Phedos had a rather nasty habit of showing up out of the blue and plucking him up to the middle of nowhere for the most absurd reasons, and should something ever happen, well, it would have been nice if at least someone besides Nimavel knew what was going on. “Hmm… well, I don’t think you should let those fears rub off on you when it comes to other people, Milo. You are the Regent after all, can’t be perfectly human,” Erenthril winked, regaining some of the momentum from the previous conversation, obvious sarcasm dripping from his tone.

He took the cards and began to shuffle them all over again, almost absent mindedly. Meanwhile, a small petite little human adolescent girl, no older than twelve, came out with a rather large tray bearing an array of salads lightly sporting a vinaigrette of some sort. “Oh, Milo, I forgot to tell you… there’s no menus here. You eat whatever they serve tonight – if you don’t like it, we can always pick up something at the tavern, but it’s pretty darn good if you ask me…” Erenthril grinned, keeping his language in check while the girl was present and watching as she sauntered on over to the Rosemen. It was almost charming, how naïve she was of whom she was serving. Few people would ever boast of such an occurrence.

“Anyways, Milo,” Eren leaned forward and grabbed his fork lightly, fully expecting Sir James to come test the salad. “I’ve neglected to mention to you… I myself have a rather unusual connection to your… ahem, employers, so to speak,” Eren grinned, taking the conversation casually. “Not too long ago… during my Mastery actually,” Eren blinked, he’d been a Master for nearly an era now. “I had a rather unique visit by Phedos..”

Taking a bite of his salad and savoring the taste, he munched quietly for a bit just to cheerfully build the suspense.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Wearing a somewhat crooked smile while Erethril picked up the cards he’d surrendered, Milo sipped from his tumbler then set it down again with a chuckle. ”All the same I’d not care for having that particular gem getting around, lest I wake up one morning to find the headline screaming at me from the front page of the Herald. I’ve a particular image to maintain you know.”

That said as the girl approached and slid a salad in front of him, and he offered her a smile of thanks before she was off again. ”No need for menus, I’m sure whatever the evening’s fare it will be more than pleasing. It’s one of the things I’ve missed since leaving the isles long ago. The food,” he said, fork hovering over his plate while Sir James wandered over and halted progress, the Knight’s own fork having first go. Milo glanced silently at Eren across the table, his grin twitching and eyes dancing with humor, a barely suppressed snort of laughter lying in wait while the Rosemen confirmed all was well. ”It’s quite good in fact Excellency,” the senior Knight confirmed and with a mildly amused smile of his own when he departed.

Left to themselves again Milo shook his head. ”Can you imagine Erenthril those who may not know my identity, nor theirs,” he said of scattered Knights and Wizards, ”what they must think of witnessing such a display.” Laughing again and not at all expecting the news Eren would deliver, he turned to his salad meantime. His mouth was full as a result when Erenthril delivered the punch line and he snorted once, twice, then his eyes watered in the process of choking on a mouthful of lettuce.

Three burly men in flowery island attire rose together, one of them at least looking bent on giving the Regent a good whack on the back before he spotted their intentions and waved them off. Then with a swallow of his water and a cough to clear his throat, he said, quietly, ”Phedos?” It made three close to him, four counting himself now given to such encounters, and more than once himself by both upper and lower case deities or so he’d come to believe, and so naturally his was a more personal curiosity for knowing the details.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Erenthril grinned at Milo’s quip about his identity. “I believe they must think you’re some paranoid crackpot fool of a noble, mellon,” there was a teasing smirk added to his grin, the last bit of elvish slipping naturally between two friends, and he took another bite of his salad. He sniffed, and smelled the unmistakable pungent aroma of fish drifting from the kitchen. Eyes sparkling as they danced out to the window, he set his fork down and cast a look expectantly towards the doorway into the small room, emerald orbs devoid of the flicker of surprise as the girl rounded the corner bearing four baskets of bread, serving Eren and Milo their own first, before divvying up the remaining three between the tropically attired Rosemen.

“I really love their bread here – you’d think because we’re on an island the more basic recipes wouldn’t rival the mainland’s so much but… ah well,” he spoke, picking up the knife and cutting into the warm loaf of bread, applying a generous amount of butter soon after before passing the knife to the Regent. “You think Sir James there would let me do the taste testing one of these days?” he winked, feeling a slight whim of pity for the Roseman that would have to stand up for the bread, the main entrée, and eventually desert as well. He idly wondered if James ever got tired, or thought it a nuisance.

Milo’s reaction, suffice to say, was rather amusing if not bringing a faint touch of concern to Eren’s features. He managed a short burst of laughter at the choking and sputtering, having to cover his mouth with his hand to contain the majority of it. “I know eh? I was rather surprised myself,” he chuckled, averting his eyes back down to his salad and mopping up some of the vinaigrette with his bread.

“But yes. Phedos was there after my promotion to Master. I’m actually his anointed Prophet, here on Telath, for the time being,” I hope were the words that didn’t actually get spoken, though the thought finished it off eloquently enough. Truth be told, Eren was tiring of the lack of attention Phedos had paid for him, the Elf feeling more a pawn than an avatar in his own given right. “I have an interesting blue sigil tattooed across the left side of my chest I’ll have to show you if we ever go swimming some time,” Erenthril shrugged; why on earth he would catch himself swimming with the Regent merely beyond him.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Erenthril might have been teasing about the paranoid crackpot bit but there’d been a time in Medonia where he as a young Prefect had been convinced that he was cursed, the moon was stalking him and voices from the depths of Aeternia were taunting him in bloody gurgles up through the drain of his bathroom sink. Worst part was that despite his efforts to keep a lid on it all the last two, at least the first, were real as could be for a month running at least and it was only the curse part of the scenario that had gone unresolved. Luckily all had been handily swept under the rug and rumors had never transformed themselves into newsworthy snippets in the Herald.

Of bread and Rosemen it was a foregone conclusion that Sir James would see to his duty and after smearing a bit of butter on a piece, Milo passed it along without a thought where it made the rounds to the Roseman and back again, the middle aged human having cut himself off a bit to taste it. ”I don’t think it’s a matter of trust so much as not wanting to be denied his duty,” Milo said with a grin when getting the bread back again. ”We’ve shared two cases of the sniffles thus far he and I,” he added with an amused snort. ”I imagine he trusts you well enough, even likes you. If he didn’t I suspect he’d be here sitting betwixt us.”

”So you’re the prophet of Phedos,” he commented with a thoughtful frown while spearing a bit of lettuce from his plate. Some eras ago the revelation might have been received with a far livelier response, perhaps one of gaping wide-eyed wonder but the things he’d seen and those who’d appeared or had something to say, provided him a differing view than those who’d never been subjected to the same.

”So he calls, you answer yes?" he said quietly. "I’m in the same predicament given who I answer to I guess but to tell you the truth Eren it tends to be a bit confounding at times. Carmelya once appeared to me in a wood outside of Medonia, Nellie and I. Ioannes himself appeared at our wedding in a shaft of light and blessed our union. Diana has had her say numerous times. I’ve been spirited away in dreams by a creature as old as time and been visited by one older still in my own offices. They’ve all had something to say one way or another, but how the gods do tend to like their riddles.”

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

“That’s comforting,” Eren remarked with a wink and an appraising glance as Sir James leaned over to try the Regent’s bread. The Elementalist briefly wondered what it would be like to be a Roseman, to have one’s life dependant upon that of another. To serve and protect, or whatever the motto of the Black Rose happened to be… Eren was rather certain there was a fair bit of fancy chivalry tucked away in it somehow. Still, the Elf did possess an implicit curiosity for such things, and he shrugged his shoulders to suppress the urging question of whether or not these men (or women, if women were allowed in such outfits – Eren had not seen one) were allotted breaks or vacations throughout the year. Did they have days off? How many of them were there. Just how advanced were they trained?

“Yes… unfortunately. Usually it comes down to when he says jump, I ask how high,” Eren sighed, but nodded eagerly for Milo to continue on his own account about aspects of the divine.

Spearing some more of the lettuce from his plate and bringing it up to his lips, his eyebrows rose ever so incredulously at the Regent’s tales of visits. Yet the most amazing of these was the prospect of meeting Ioannes – whom Eren had always considered a recluse of sorts. “Wow Milo, if I was ever more eager to develop a bond to the pantheon I think I’d be jealous,” a lopsided grin slid across a smirk, “personally, I think the gods tend to monopolize their pawns here on Telath a little too expertly for my tastes. Phedos might be the avatar of strategy and whatnot, but I’d rather not be the tool for his exploits. I’m sure you’ve felt the same way before?” he asked, finishing his salad and pushing the small bowl off to the side of the table.

The main entrée would be arriving soon.

[Milo L'Evienne]

”I have. A time or two,” Milo said with a thoughtful frown around a mouthful of bread when his friend spoke of resentment for being made subject to any given divine whim, and finishing off his salad pushed the plate aside. ”And what do you suppose would happen Erenthril if you were to say no now and again, if you couldn't resolve yourself to do what divine whim might have of you in any given instance?”

Leaning back in