Chapter Text
Verin goes through the motions while home for the funeral and the rest of the goings-on. The family is at a loss as to what to do. It's been so long since a consecuted soul perished so far from a beacon. The public mourns the brave deeds the Bright Queen’s Shadowhand had surely been doing at her bidding.
Privately, the Den is in turmoil. Dietra is overbearing. The rest of the Den is too loud, too quiet, too opinionated, too, too, too-he slips out the side door they used to escape out of when they were little and catches a breath as the pendulum in his chest knocks against his heart.
Grief is new to him. When Father died, there was sadness but an understanding that he’d return.
Missing, presumed dead.
Essek had refused consecution, Verin one of the few that knew this. Even if he hadn’t, he was off Light knows where, fighting Light knows what. Since that day, Verin had known this day was coming. He hadn't realized it would come so soon.
“It’s those wretched Empire vagabonds,” his mother had spit out in the privacy of their house as he’d grit his teeth, remembering their kindness and warmth. “They’ve been such a terrible influence on him from the moment they arrived, he’s changed.”
“For the better,” he thinks. “He changed for the better with them.”
“They dragged him off into the world of danger when he was already in a position of power at her side.”
“He chose to be at their side,” he retorts silently, clenching his fists. “He chose the safety of his friends, of the world over power.”
His feet carry him aimlessly through the streets until he stands in front of a familiar house, under a softly glowing tree. If he listens hard enough, he can hear laughter spilling down from the roof, shouts from the main floor to the second. A life and happiness this house had never known before that rainbow of misfits arrived.
The pendulum knocks against his heart again, and the tears blur his vision for a moment. He looks both ways up and down the street before scaling the side of the house and landing lightly at the base of the tree, blinking in the light. He places a hand on the trunk of the tree and looks around the roof, remembering the last time he was here, the entire group had been shouting over each other telling stories, drinking, and Essek had been so carefree and open in a way Verin had never seen him before.
He stumbles and falls to the stone roof, sobbing as he loses what little grasp of control he had left, mourning his brother, the time they lost, the time they’ll never have now.
“Taskhand? You have a visitor. The Shadowhand is here to see you.”
Verin pulls a face and nearly knocks his chair over while standing up. “Essek? Where? Did he say why?”
“No, sir.”
Verin rushes out the door and sees Essek standing in the middle of his camp, looking a bit lost in the hustle and bustle. He hastens next to him and realizing he’s looking down further than normal, startles to see him not floating.
“Essek? Is everything okay?”
Essek’s face is calm but Verin hears the shake in his voice, “I just needed to pass on a message to you, it was more expedient to do it in person.”
Verin nods, and motions towards his office. “Privacy then.”
Essek’s mask had dropped the moment the door shut, his shaking voice describing the horror on the horizon, the monster he and the Mighty Nein were about to go and face.
What was coming if they failed. What the Dynasty needed to be prepared to face.
Verin knew there was no convincing him to stay. He also knew there was no convincing him to let him come with him.
Verin stares at his older brother, cataloguing the tiredness in his face, the bruises on his exposed collarbone and arms, the still healing scars from recent battles.
“What are you doing out there, Essek?” He whispers.
He wasn’t expecting the flinch. He wasn’t expecting the quiet, single-word answer either.
“Atoning.”
Verin moves slowly, expecting a rejection, and pulls his brother into a tight hug, whispering into his shoulder. “Okay and whatever it is you did, do they know?”
He wasn’t expecting the sob and shuddering breath that follows.
“Yes.”
“Have they always known?”
“Since you’ve known them.”
Verin takes that in.
“Light! Essek, you,” Verin chokes and squeezes tighter. “You aren’t planning on coming back, are you. That’s why you’re here.”
Essek allows himself to bury his face into his brother’s neck for a moment. “I plan on making sure they come back. Whatever that means for me.”
Somehow, that was worse.
Essek pulls away, swiping at his eyes harshly before pulling on his cloak. “I’d better be getting back, I want to be ready when they return.”
Verin lets his own tears fall freely and roughly helps Essek fasten his cloak, straightening it on his shoulders, brushing off imaginary lint. They look at each other for a moment.
Essek struggles to force the mask back on and with a wavering voice says, “You were the best of them.”
Verin reaches out and ruffles Essek’s hair and laughs through tears at Essek’s indignant squawk. “I love you too, brother.”
Essek fusses with his hair for a moment before giving up and beginning to cast Teleport.
“I’ll try to have Jester let you know if we are successful or if you need to be on alert.”
Verin nods and waves as he watches his brother disappear.
Verin rolls onto his back and stares up into the branches of the tree, letting the lights sting at his watering eyes, the tears still tracing paths down his face, collecting in his hair now. What horrors had they faced? The letter had come from Essek’s post.
The rangers under Essek’s command had watched him fight three undead frost giants and descend into the ruins of Aeor with the Mighty Nein, followed hours later by a group of dangerous people that had tore through their ranks easily. There’d been an explosion and then radio silence for days after. Cautious probes into the ruin revealed the bodies of three of the other party but none of the Mighty Nein, Essek, or the other two and beyond that a maze of ruins that would take months to search and waste resources.
Scrying on him revealed nothing. Scrying on the Nein revealed nothing.
In the morning, he would drag himself together, prepare his papers and report to the Lucid Bastion and plead an audience with the Bright Queen, explaining the threat he assumes now looms on the horizon.
But for now, he is content to wallow in his grief, safely tucked away in the privacy of his brother’s new family home. He spies a blanket off to the side, whispers an apology to the Nein, curls up underneath it and cries himself to sleep.
He wakes slowly, eyes feeling dry and crusty, back stiff from sleeping on the stone. He shivers in the cool morning air and wraps the blanket around him more securely and stands. He’d not gotten a good look at the tree before and now as he wanders around it, yawning a bit, he takes in the bits of each little nod to different deities represented by the various members of the group.
Verin leans against the tree and sighs. It’s time to be an adult now. He’d left all of his reports he’d written after Essek had left his office weeks ago in his room back at his mother’s house. He hangs his head, feeling the tears coming again and tries to hold them back as he slumps to the ground again. There’s no time for that today.
“Hello, Verin!” Verin leaps to his feet, abandoning the blanket on the ground at the sound of Jester’s voice in his head. “We have...important things to talk with you about...are you able to get away? We can meet you. Keep it secret? Please?”
Verin drops to his knees in relief and jams his hands into his hair trying to remember what Essek had told him about Sending. 20 words? 25 words?
“Jester? You’re alive! Yes. I’ll meet you. Just tell me where. Is the threat passed or should I alert the Bright Queen? Is Essek…” He trails off, afraid to finish the sentence and feels the magic fade.
He tosses the blanket back where he found it and quickly slips and falls his way down the side of the house, sprinting back home, dodging the early morning walkers and passersby with a charming smile and nod as they shake their heads indulgently at his antics. He slips into the side door he’d escaped from the night before and sneaks up to his room.
His ears twitch waiting for another message to arrive as he hurries and stumbles his way through cleaning up, changing, and packing. He’s attempting to calm his mind by rebraiding his hair when his door is thrown open, the only warning given before his mother walks in.
“And where were you all night long?”
He barely restrains an eyeroll.
“What answer will make you happiest, Mother?”
“You disappeared! What was I to think? I needed you here!” She looks around the room, sees his packed bag and narrows her eyes. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
“Out.”
“Oh no you’re not. I need you here now. I’ll be requesting your change of assignment to be closer to home as soon as possible.”
Verin drops the braid he’s halfway completed in disbelief. “You what?”
“People are already talking. We must be a united front in trying times such as these! I can’t keep the vultures at bay by myself if you’re off pretending to be a hero in Bazzoxan. Look where it got the rest of this family.”
Verin stills.
“Exactly. No more of this. You’ll stay here, in Rhosona. I’m sure we’ll find a position for you here.”
Looking back on it, Verin isn’t sure where the courage comes from. Perhaps the strength of the Nein seeped into him from those simple 25 words that morning. Or maybe sleeping in their house gave him the long needed courage. Or maybe they’d bottled up enough of the Luxon’s light and he’d slept in their light last night.
He knows he’s not a coward. He’s fought terrifying abominations and held the line in command at Bazzoxan for nearly three years now. But he always caved when it came to standing up to his mother. But not today.
Verin stands to his full height and begins walking slowly towards Deitra.
“I am leaving. Today. Where I go is none of your business. When I return to my post is none of your business. The location of my post is none of your business and isn’t yours to decide when and where I am positioned based on your selfish needs. We just held a memorial for a soul that is never coming back. Essek. Mother. Essek is never coming back. Your bright, shining star is gone. For good. We didn't even have a body to bury. And all you can talk about is gossip? Father’s soul will be returning to us within decades. Perhaps you should focus on making sure this Den is one worth returning to. I’m going to make sure our people are safe from unimaginable horrors. You are going to stay out of my life.”
Dietra gapes at him as he scoops up his pack and stomps towards the door, hair still wild around his shoulders. He hesitates at the door without turning around. “Tell Father I love him when he gets back. Tell him I’m holding the line for him.”
He leaves through the front door, head held high and steps into the brisk morning breeze.