[Crown Tavern] A toast to the end (Fidelis)

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Night of the 37th of Optia, Summer of the Second Era, Era XIV

It was the designated time.

Stealing a glimpse outside one of the windows embedded in the walls of the Crown Tavern and Inn, the Prince of Har’oloth noted the moon’s lazy ascent amidst the darkened sky. Turning away from the ominous scene and redirecting his attention to the corked bottle of champagne poised upon the table, the Vysstichi Lord pressed his lips together pensively as his gaze drifted purposely to the doorway.

He would be arriving shortly.

Despite the obvious disparity of their religious beliefs, time had rendered the Dark Knight of Jorel to be a friend in the dark elf’s eyes. They had fought beside one another on several occasions before, occasions in which others of lesser fortitudes would certainly have surrendered or fallen prey to the dangers themselves. Fidelis and Faust had survived, however, and their ordeals had warranted them as brothers.

They were brothers of the sword.

Resting his head back against the wall, a position that naturally promoted the impossibility of being stabbed from behind, the Prince of Har’oloth casually folded his arms across his mythril-garbed chest, resting his elbows upon the pommels of each sword respectively.

Fidelis had arranged for the pair to meet at this particular time and, being the punctual dark elf that he was, Faust had opted to come earlier than requested. Ultimately his timeliness had enabled him to purchase the bottle of champagne and procure two empty wine glasses which were waiting nakedly upon the table.

Still, what did his companion want? Although they had endeavored on multiple sojourns before, it was atypical for Fidelis to coordinate a meeting under such…unusual circumstances.

Either way the dark elf supposed that he would find out about his comrade’s designs soon enough. At any rate, though, Faust suspected that it was going to be an amusing evening.

[Fidelis Meridius]

The darkening was no more unique than any other of the summer as darkness took its hold upon the capitol city of the empire. The moon gave it the street gentle hues of blue as the midnight clad warrior traversed the cobblestone streets upon his mount.

Things had been different as of late. Life was harder, and the road of purpose was begining to look like a maze. In all the eras of fighting and suffering, the Dark Knight's determination had yet to waiver; at least not until the past few seasons. Aslan had yet to be affected by the war Fidelis waged, Jorel had yet to make his will known, and the guidance of Oji, the cursed eunuch, and Lady Havina of the Thorns of Jorel had been confusing at best. And it was recently that he learned of his fallen cousin's true fate: He was damned to the tortures of Aeternia for the actions of the Wolf of Jorel.

The swordsman's mind was troubled at best, but he was not always left to his solitude. No. he had found a companion of the most unlikely sorts. Even though they were somewhat polar opposites at times, through the thought to be late Serion D'rinishad, they had come to form an unlikely bond. Brothers of blood and sword, they had come to know he other through their own demons.

It was Faust that Fidelis had chosen to turn to in what could potentially be the final darkening of a hard life. For the next brightening, he was going to make a statement, and he was going to save Maximus... or die trying. And even in Aeternia his mission would not end. But for now, he had one last time with his companion, for an evening of drinking, and reflection upon the eras lost.

Approaching his destination, Fidelis dismounted the pegasus, and secured him out front of the Crown Inn; a place filled with many memories, many he had chosen to remember, some he'd wished he'd forget. Pulling his platinum tresses of hair over his shoulder, the warrior adjusted his collar before embarking into the warm glow of the tavern.

As he stepped inside, the Jorelite pulled the leather gloves from his hands a finger at a time, stuffing them into his pocket as his emrald eyes peered about the building. They bounced from person to person in search of his companion, while simultaneously noting any potential threats. Although that was the least of his concern. Finding the dark elf along the wall, the human gave a light smirk as he advanced to the table.

Pulling the chair back, Fidelis took a seat. "Serale..." The warrior greeted the Prince of Har'oloth. "Not only are you early, but with drinks ready..." Fidelis spoke light-heartedly, even though his grim countenace held its frame. Then it was straight to business. "My friend, let us drink and be at peace, for dark times lie ahead, from which I fear I may not return..."

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“To celebrate…” the dark elf interjected, grinning as he uncorked the bottle of champagne and angled it over each wine glass respectively, filling them just beneath their rims. “This is the first time that we have met without drawn swords, my friend. Is that alone not worth commemoration?”

Laughing candidly, the Vysstichi Lord’s slender fingers curled around the base of the goblet, raising it to his lips and sucking pleasurably as the champagne wetted his tongue and satiated his parched throat. “To peaceful times…” He languidly toasted, tilting his glass upwards before taking another sip.

As he continued to watch Fidelis, Faust was beginning to wonder whether his toast had been a tidbit premature. Given the sternness of the Dark Knight’s demeanor and the serious expression that he wore, the Prince of Har’oloth suspected that something was weighing upon the formidable human’s mind.

Worry, perhaps?

Despite their lack of non-combative social engagements, the Vysstichi Lord had come to know the Jorelite quite well. For the most part Fidelis was a somber person, but during their endeavor through the Great Mountains, the Dark Knight had revealed a facet of himself that few had probably seen before. He did not expose that side this dreary evening.

“Dark times…?” the dark elf reiterated, leaning his head inquisitively to the side as if beckoning Fidelis to elaborate. When his friend did not, Faust merely shrugged and contemplated the underpinnings of his comrade’s foreboding statement.

“Is not every day a dark time in a mortal’s existence?” Faust rhetorically asked, more so to lighten the dreariness of the mood. Chuckling slightly, the Vysstichi sighed again and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table that separated him from the silver-haired human.

“For you to say such a thing, though, old friend, concerns me. These times that you speak of…for what reason would you believe that you wouldn’t return?” At this the Vysstichi Lord stared at Fidelis curiously, interested to see if the human would dare part with the reasons that worried him.

[Fidelis Meridius]

Taking his own glass, the warrior fille his parched mouth with the liquid, and savored it slightly before swallowing it. Looking across the table, the Dark Elf had gotten his grasp on Fidelis' seriousness. But the Lord of the D'rinishads had the ability to keep the highest of spirits in even the darkest of times, and for that the human offered immeasurable amounts of respect.

"My friend, you are right as always... You know, I sometimes wonder how differenly things could be if our lives had not been so cruel to us..." The warrior spoke as if he was really just thinking aloud as his glanced at the champaine in his glass. Perhaps he was imagining the pair surrounded by women in a tropical paradise. Blinking, the warrior's stoic gaze left the glass and found his companion's visage. [b]"Our friendship may have been forged in the fire of battle, but this Darkening is one that should have been long ago."

"Do you remember the first time we met since our return from the cold of the far south?" The Jorelite gave the Vyssie a moment to reply, but of course he knew the answer, therefore he continued. "It was in the heartlands of the Centripax. We were on seperate journey's that led us both to a place of remembrance..." Fidelis paused for a second to take another drink. "We have both lost someone very close to us in the most horrible way. But I have come by means that I have seen into Aeternia, and Maximus is subjected to eternal punishment because of MY actions..." The Wolf of Jorel became a little red in the cheeks as he fought back a bit of emotion. "I can save him this time, and the truth is failing him again scares me more than death ever will... I will share my quest with you at the end of the evening, but for now. Let us drink and relax as if we may never fight along side one another ever again."

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Although there was little that could faze the Prince of Har’oloth, Fidelis’s somber demeanor disconcerted the dark elf considerably. Of the formidable pair, the Dark Knight of Jorel had always been more serious and pessimistic; however, even these traits had never overridden his confidence, and Faust knew better than anyone that Fidelis had much to be confident about. There were few in all of Telath who could have boasted of greater accomplishments and exploits than the Jorelite.

“I would have been a farmer.” Faust bluntly replied. Grinning sheepishly, the dark elf entertained a short-lived chuckle as he sipped again at his wine glass. Sighing comfortably as he leaned back in his chair, the dark elf’s eyes fell curiously upon Fidelis. “But even if our lives could have different, is that what you would have wanted?” Silence ensued several seconds later as Faust awaited his comrade’s answer. Although it hardly mattered in the grander scheme of things, the dark elf was quite interested to know how Fidelis would respond. Perhaps it would shed some light upon what was distracting him.

Faust’s eyes did widen minutes afterwards when Fidelis spoke of his cousin, a man who was being tormented in Aeternia. Shifting attentively in his chair, the Vysstichi Lord leaned forward concernedly. “Saving him-?” Faust began to ask, though he refrained from finishing his question as the Dark Knight opted to relay his tale later on in the evening. Not wanting to push Fidelis, Faust simply nodded and respected his companion’s decision.

Grinning finally, the Vysstichi Lord merely tapped his wine glass against Fidelis’s own in a small toast. “Very well then. To a peaceful evening and good company.” Laughing heartily, Faust imbibed another mouthful of wine.

[Fidelis Meridius]

"A farmer!?" Fidelis about choked on his drink as he chuckled to his companions response. He couldn't see the Prince of Har'oloth living such a life... as a quiet and humble farmer. "Would I want a different profession? Heh, I would think not. But perhaps the circumstances could have been different." The Dark Knight frowned slightly as he pondered over all the blood that had been spilled as a result of his deeds. But the warrior was unbothered by it; even the innocent could die for a reason. "Funny you should say a farmer... My family has farmed the plains of the Centripax for generations... Myself and Maximus were the first to ever want more out of life." Fidelis took a sip from his glass as he reflected on his childhood in the fields.

Then the mood was swung again, as the conversation seemed to transpire like a brightening: moving from light to dark at regular intervals. "There is a woman in the palace that has the power to pull a soul from Aeternia. She is but the begining of the puzzle, but I know if I can get to her I can find a way to save him from eternal torment... and should I fail, I will see that my soul takes his stead... He did nothing, his soul was virtuous enough for even the halls of Sonos... If such a place wasn't tainted by betrayal." The warrior grew quiet again for a moment as he drank, and felt the peace of his company: Someone he respected and trusted as if they were born of the same flesh.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“A farmer is no different from people like you or me, my friend,” Faust continued to explain, hands gesturing purposely over the table, “He determines when to sow and when to reap…” Grinning to himself, the dark elf gifted Fidelis a few seconds to discern the latent meaning behind the metaphor. Perhaps it was a stretch, but there was definitely truth to the ‘reaping’ aspect of the Dark Knight’s profession. Did not Fidelis Meridius choose when to spare life and when to take it?

He certainly had the power to do so.

As Fidelis shared of his and Maximus’s experiences, the dark elf nodded and brought the brim of the wine glass to his lips, consuming some of the liquor before returning the glass to the table. Seeing as the Dark Knight seldom imparted the details of his life even to Faust, the dark elf listened without interruption. A part of him wanted to ask Fidelis if his and Maximus’s decision had ultimately been worthwhile, but the dark elf purposely refrained from doing so.

Sometimes even harmless conversations had ways of evoking bitter memories, and this was a time of celebration, not lamentation.

“A woman from the Palace?” Faust asked again, and this time he leaned forward. Evident interest flecked the dark elf’s crimson eyes as he watched Fidelis curiously. “Who is this woman?” He inquired. However Fidelis had come to learn this information was beyond the dark elf’s awareness, but the Dark Knight seemed fairly confident of his estimation.

[Fidelis Meridius]

OOC: Sorry, between finals, break, holidays, work, travel, blah blah blah, I had forgotten about the thread.

IC: "Very true..." Fidelis nodded in agreement with his companion; he was right. "But I can't remember a time when I felt like anything more than a reaper..." The warrior spoke in a tone that was half-joking before he returned to his stoic self. Sometimes it was a wonder that the two very different swordsmen had become so connected to one another's lives.

Fidelis was a man that had been turned inside out and beaten to the point that humanity was all but gone within him. Hate was the primary fuel that kept him going, but it wasn't always the driving force in his life. It was a side of the Dark Knight that he kept hidden from Faust, but if he trully knew... would he still stand beside him?

"Fiona Hriemalian..." Fidelis responded to the Vysstichi Prince as he took another portion of wine from his glass, swished it around his mouth a bit, and then swallowed the liquid. "She is a maid at the Palace. I've got to find her and take her back to the Ghostly Downs..." But Fidelis wasn't very concerned with her at the moment. His mind was plagued enough, and if this was going to be his last darkening amongst the living, then he wanted to share it in peace.

"Anyways..." The Jorelite shook his head as he reclined back. "How are things in your world?" The warrior gave Faust a curious gaze. As close as the pair was, they knew little about one another... if it had not been for the late Serion D'Rinishad, it would be likely that the pair would have never met.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“Better to be the reaper than the reaped, my friend.” Faust quickly said, imparting a candid smile to lighten the mood. It was self-evident from Fidelis’s glum expression that he was conflicted by some contemplative thought, the likes of which Faust dared not pry from his comrade’s mind –let alone attempt. Everyone who killed was possessed by their own demons, but some of these demons were harder to exorcise than others.

“The name does not sound familiar…” the Prince of Har’oloth said after Fidelis relayed the woman’s identity to him. Leaning back in his chair and raking the bottom of his chin in a pensive posture, Faust frowned slightly. “But I am guessing a woman of the Palace does not come out very often, and even if she does, she’d probably be well-guarded..”

The question of Fidelis’s purpose for the woman remained a mystery to the Lord of House D’Rinishad, but some things, he had learned, were better left untold unless absolutely necessary. He decided not to ask further unless the Dark Knight opted to resurface the peculiar topic.

When the subject of discourse returned to him, the dark elf merely chuckled to mask his true feelings. “They could be better, but I’ll survive…” He began, slowly swirling the contents of his goblet with small gyrations of the wrist. A slight glimmer came to his eyes. “Have you ever loved someone you couldn’t have?” Faust suddenly asked. It was a blunt question, one that Fidelis might even have felt awkward about answering, but rarely did the Prince of Har’oloth say or ask anything without purpose.

[Fidelis Meridius]

Fidelis remained fairly confined to himself and his glass when it came to his internal confliction... Even with the elf, who was easily his best friend, sitting accross from him. The warrior hadn't been close to any other living being in such a way since Maximus died. Not even his family knew of his whereabouts or did they have the slightest idea of what had transpired for half his life. For all reality, the boy that was Fidelis died that night as well. The man at the table was not a man raised by Centripaxian farmers.

Taking another gulp from the glass, Fidelis licked his lips. "I am sure your assumptions are correct. The palace would be a dangerous place to infiltrate, but it is not impossible... I will do what I must." The Jorelite spoke as he wondered how much the Vysstichi really cared about his plight. True, they were brothers of the sword, they were brothers of a common loss, but they were still very different people. So the warrior dove deeper into the non-violent part of Faust's life.

"Could be better?" The Wolf of Jorel questioned himself. "Heh... Things could always be better..." But he dared not question the Prince's survival. They could both survive life's most horrid experiences, and still find time to share a drink. [b]"I am afraid that love has been lost to me for some time... But yes, I once knew the feeling as a young man... She was of nobility, and I was not. But it didn't change the way I felt." The swordsman recognized the sparkle in his companion's eyes. It was a feeling he had not felt in the longest of times. He was almost a bit envious of the dark elf. "Care to explain?" Fidelis asked, obviously referring to his companion's situation.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“Of course.” Faust said, dipping his head understandingly. He would not advocate the Dark Knight’s aim to infiltrate the Imperial Palace, but neither would he attempt to dissuade him from that course either. The Prince of Har’oloth harbored no respect for the Imperial Government, not its leaders, not its military, not anyone. Given all that the puppet government had done, or rather, their lack thereof, the last thing on the dark elf’s mind was their comfort. He was, however, concerned for Fidelis’s safety. “But do keep in mind that there are ways to infiltrate the palace that do not involve breaking down the front gates…” He advised with a grin.

“But it’s interesting that you say that.” Faust said, laughing as he slouched in his seat. Swiping up his goblet with his thumb and index finger, the Vysstichi Prince smirked as he downed another mouthful of wine. It was difficult to imagine his companion with a woman, not that the possibility was repulsive, but rather, Fidelis just didn’t seem that type –not anymore at least. For the most part, the Dark Knight was a lone wolf, one who would prefer the touch of ardentium steel to a woman’s warm flesh any day. It wasn’t incredibly unusual, but it did paint the Wolf of Jorel in an interesting light. And perhaps he was more powerful because of it.

“Is she still around?” the dark elf asked, his silver brows arching peculiarly before he answered Fidelis’s question, “I’m somewhat embarrassed to say this, but I love a married woman…well…used to love I guess. She chose another instead of me, some washed up admiral with a twig for a spine and a leaf for a backbone.” Rolling his eyes disgustedly, the dark elf’s expression darkened for the first time this night. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just kill him…” the Vysstichi laughed now, obviously joking –or was he?

[Fidelis Meridius]

It was the first real conversation that the pair had trully had. Even in all their journeys together, they stayed rather to the point... perhaps it was because of the serious demeanor of the human warrior. Or maybe the danger that surrounded such adventures prevented them from ever really conversing.

... And of all things to talk about: Women. What was it about them that they could render even the strongest men helpless. Their emotions changed on a whim and clouded their ability to use logic... At least that was the warrior's take on them. Since the love of his youth, Fidelis had never allowed himself to be close to another women. Sure, every town had its share of brothels and questionable taverns and inns, and the warrior had seen many of them in his days of old. But they robbed him of his focus, and only fed his grief further.

Mirroring Faust, the Jorelite relaxed as well. Slumping back in his chair, Fidelis evaluated his companion's previous statement. Of course there was better ways to infiltrate the palace... he knew from experience. But the Dark Knights tactics involved a more political approach... at least in a celestial sense. Covert operations were affective, but a public display of power would garner more attention from his enemies. And that was exactly what he wanted.

Taking a drink once more, Fidelis responded to the lighter topic, "No..." His brow flattened as he looked down at the table; obviously he was reflecting on the past. "It was a long time ago..." The warrior spared any real details. But Fidelis smirked at the thought of Faust slaying his rival out of love. He knew exactly what it meant to kill for the love of another. It was the catalyst of his destruction. He didn't wish such a fate on his companion, but the circumstances were different for him. "An admiral eh? Heh... I imagine he is a smooth talking sailor, probably couldn't hold a sword to save his life." Fidelis chuckled in unison as Faust threatened killing the man. But of course, Fidelis was a man that was apathetic at the least to killing. "You know... some sailors often go to see to never return... It is a dangerous place on the oceans afterall." The Jorelite gave his buddy a sinister smirk as he took another drink.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“I’m sorry to hear that…” the dark elf regretfully replied, sighing and shaking his head mournfully as he flicked a bread crumb from the table. He instinctively averted his eyes from the Dark Knight out of respect, for the eyes were oftentimes believed to be the windows into one’s soul, and the Prince of Har’oloth feared what he might perceive in Fidelis’s orbs at this very moment. Fidelis was strong, stronger than any human Faust knew, and it would break him to see the Dark Knight in any sort of emotional pain.

The Vysstichi imparted a small smile in consolation. “It’s amazing how quickly things change, isn’t it?” Breathing out deeply, it was Faust’s turn to chuckle as Fidelis painted an impressively accurate image of the certain Admiral in Liselle’s life. “You speak as if you knew him already, my friend. But yes, that’s the type, though the only sword I believe he’s held is the one in his insanely unfashionable trousers, and I’m amazed that he even knew how to use that.” Shrugging apathetically, the dark elf poured some more wine into both his and Fidelis’s goblets. His brows then raised interestedly at Fidelis’s next implication.

“Hmm…you do raise a good point. Let that be our next adventure together.” Grinning mischievously, the dark elf retrieved the glass into his hands and sipped unrestrainedly at the rim. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement. “You eliminate his lonely friends and I’ll throw him off the boat.” It soon became quite evident that the dark elf was enjoying the conversation immensely, especially as it became impossible for him to keep a straight face for the next several minutes.

When his laughter finally ceased, though, he exhaled in between periodic short-lived chortles until relaxing completely. “Bah, who am I kidding. I could never do that to her. She has kids you know. I wouldn’t want to leave them fatherless so soon. Now, enough of me and my delusions of grandeur…” A noticeable seriousness suddenly supplanted the dark elf’s mirth. “Tell me, my friend, what was it that bothered you earlier…?”

[Fidelis Meridius]

Fidelis nodded as Faust flicked the crumb from the table. "It is quite alright... It was some time ago. Some brightenings it feels more like a different lifetime." The Jorelite leaned back to cross is right leg over his left. For a few moments he was nearly completely relaxed. The wine was doing its job, and the presence of his companion had helped to ease the impending gloom that loomed over his future. " And yes, things can change all too often... as we both know." The warrior hinted to the loved ones that had passed before them. They both would carry the same weight with them forever; perhaps it was the reason for their bond and not the sword.

As Faust spoke of the woman he loved and her family, the Dark Knight nearly pitied him. He could only watch as another man loved the woman he so dearly cared for, but he would not hurt others to gain his desires. He was more pure a man than Fidelis would ever be, but deep within he admired the Vysstichi for such moral courage.

With a simple nod, Fidelis decided not to pick at the issue too much. Instead his couterpart had revived the reason for their meeting in the first place. The warrior's brow fell slightly as the gaze in his eyes changed momentarily. "There is a part of me I wished you could have known... Perhaps if we had known each other sooner. But, Faust..." Fidelis sighed. "There is something that I must do, something horrible... Should this be the last time we are ever able to share a drink and company, I would hope that you would remember in this way, and that you may forgive me..." Fidelis grabbed the bottle of wine and filled his glass, before offering to give the Prince of har'oloth a refill. "A toast. To unrivalled swords, to friends without equal, to love lost, and should this be where we part, then here's a toast to the end." Fidelis raised his glass in front of him with a smirk; waiting for Faust to do so in return.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

A number of questions filtered through the Prince’s mind as Fidelis proposed a toast, one worthy of the history pages. Concern speckled the dark elf’s red eyes as he listened, but he dared not question the sanctity of the moment. He knew the Dark Knight well enough to understand that Fidelis was a man of little fears; he was not troubled by the common apprehensions that haunted most people. Subsequently, for the Wolf of Jorel to even hint at his imminent death, Faust realized that something grave was about to happen.

“To the end,” the Prince of Har’oloth echoed, bringing his newly filled glass against Fidelis’s in celebration. Of course he was unaware of the circumstances provoking Fidelis’s eloquent toast, but he masked his concern behind a cheery façade. As he sipped at the wine, the Vysstichi Lord sighed deeply, his slender shoulders dropping and resting against the back of the wall. He silently met the Dark Knight’s gaze for a few heartbeats, wondering of the troubles that consumed the man’s soul.

“Whatever problems you are facing, my friend, do not forget that you are not alone,” the dark elf said, chuckling grimly as he slung one of his arms across the ruby-bejeweled pommel of Blood Winter. He meant every word. The legions of the Empire could have been knocking at Faust’s door and Fidelis would have fought beside him. Still, the Vysstichi Lord was aware that Fidelis’s decision was one that he opted to travel alone –for whatever reason. And Faust respected that.

“Just don’t get yourself killed. Remember, we’ve a certain Admiral to slay, and I’m afraid that I simply don’t have the time nor the manpower to rid myself of his crew.” Faust said with an innocent smile.