Mission for Friendship

It's time for tea at the Residence. The stone-wrought house is, for once, occupied with only two individuals.

Or perhaps three if you count a certain raven.

Either way, Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon pours a cup of tea for the man who sits across from her. "I'm glad you could make it here," she says softly as she holds the teacup out to a former enemy and a present friend. "I know you'd wanted to go out into the world, but... I felt it'd be far safer to talk here. I wish that I could have invited you into my own home, but..."

She sighs, shaking her head, before moving to smooth down the skirt of her knee-length lavender dress cut from cloth suitable for the summer heat. "Marsward prevented as much. I hope you like the tea; it's from my Grandfather's garden."

Meanwhile, Pothy peers at Zalgiman from his spot next to Cor'lana on the couch. Blue eyes that study him like he's expecting the werewolf man to do... something.

It is indeed Zalgiman who sits across from Cor'lana, accepting the tea as it is offered to him and politely ignoring the expectant gaze of Pothy. He sniffs the tea and looks at it a moment before offering a somewhat uncertain smile to the woman that had invited him over. "This is... I'm grateful Cor'lana." He can't seem to help but to look around the room now and again. The books on the shelves, the kitchen in the corner. The hearth, and even the tea set gets a sense of marveling curiosity from the werewolf.

"As for Marsward..." Zalgiman's eyes twist in anger and he takes a small taste of the tea to calm himself and makes a small appreciative noise. "This is very good."

The compliment on the tea earns Zalgiman a rather pleased smile from Cor'lana, her violet eyes alight. "I know lavender-mint is a bit of an unusual tea," she says, "but I'm quite fond of it, even beyond the fact it is from my beloved Grandfather's garden. I'm glad you are as well. He'll probably appreciate knowing that there's someone else who likes his tea as well."

She pours her own cup and takes a small sip, nodding in appreciation, before she gives another small sigh. "I... I want to have conversation on so many things. But I probably ought to be responsible and inform you first of what all has happened since... your passing." The phrase is said with an audible tension, a pang of regret in both her violet eyes and her voice. "Before we speak on anything else, that is."

"You shouldn't feel bad about my death Cor'lana. It was... My choice." Zalgiman's eyes darken a little and he shakes his head. "I don't even know how long I've been dead really. A month or so it seems if the weather is any indication."

"You were gone for eighty-five days," Cor'lana replies softly, still the look of sadness in her eyes. Even this admission gets a look from Pothy, who turns those blue eyes from Zalgiman onto Cor'lana in something like shock.

"I used to keep track of the days by the number of temple visits and the poems I wrote in my journal," Cor'lana explains. Her hands wrap around her teacup. "I found myself wishing I'd... I'd asked about your favorite flower, and... So many more things beside that."

Pothy makes a noise like the clearing of a throat. This causes Cor'lana to blink, and then she looks back up at Zalgiman. "I--I'm sorry. I didn't mean to linger on that. We..."

She looks pained and shakes her head. "The situation between Marsward and Dace crumbled rapidly when you passed on. Marsward approached Dace to have you raised as an undead entity, and Dace refused. Marsward tried to have a weretiger named Micha take your place as the head of operations and recruitment, but when my allies learned that Marsward had effectively kidnapped Micha's lover, another weretiger named N'thain, to buy his servitude, we freed N'thain and reunited the two. Dace Zinskas has since approached me with a deal: provide him with a scroll of mage's disjunction, and he will thwart Marsward so that the Red Maw is no longer under Marsward--and V's--control." She recounts all of this carefully, like there's something beneath the surface of her words.

"It's okay." Zalgiman says, blinking at her words. He seems about to say something about the subject, but she moves on steadily and he closes his mouth instead. It's clear that he's not wholly comfortable, that there's something on his mind as much as there's something on hers. Still, he tries to focus on what she's saying. "I remember that. Marsward said something about bringing in other were-animals if he could. I didn't think he could actually do it though."

Here he sighs and sets his tea down. "What's wrong Cor’lana?”

The question cuts into her. There's a wince on her face that isn't all that dissimilar to the one she made when Zalgiman's blade cut into her--

No. That one was agony. This one is a mild sort of pain. There is a difference. But pain can become something more with the twist of a knife. Something that Zalgiman knows all too well.

"... That dream," Cor'lana says softly. "The one you entered. I know I told you then--it was a nightmare. One I had before, one that was based on reality. And I hadn't expected to learn that you and I shared that sort of darkness--of feeling alone and abandoned by all, even the gods."

She looks up at Zalgiman now. "I... I will confess it. Up until that moment--I hated you. But they say hate and love are two sides of the same coin, and it is only the matter of that thin boundary. When you told me those words and I saw them to be true, Zalgiman--that is when I began to love you, in the way that someone loves someone beyond that of a lover or a spouse. 'Friend' is the word, but 'friend' is a word that is, I think, sometimes offered too freely. There are friends you meet and you want to spend time with them in casual situations. But then there are friends who... You genuinely love. Who you want to make happy. And I don't have many of those."

Her words trail off as the tears well up in her eyes. "I'm--I know I said this before. I am thankful you've said yes this time. Because I want to give that to you. I just warn you--there is so much of my own darkness I have had to endure. And I'm sure you have your own, too. But it's... It's easier to bear with a friend willing to listen." And she offers a small smile that shakes a little with the wobbling of a lip.

Zalgiman is clearly stunned by her words, wholly off keel for a moment. He glances away for a moment and shrugs. "I had guessed that you must hate me." The words are soft and not judgmental. "As much as I hated myself... Who could care for..."

But she had, once she understood him a bit better and his words trail off into uncertainty. He stares at the tea he laid down for something to look at that isn't her tear-filled eyes. Looking at that would undo him entirely. "I still don't understand it. How you or Telamon could care anything about me at all. I... I could have killed him. Wanted to even." His fist clenches and he rubs that same hand over his knee a second later, soothing his own anger out.

"You offered me friendship and I... I threw away your kindness out of selfishness. Even Telamon offered me a way to do better and I... I couldn't." He still doesn't look up. "I'm not sure even now that I can really Cor'lana. I know I've done some stupid things. Some terrible things. I can't just erase everything I've done, or how I feel."

It's a small smile forming on the edge of his lips. "I don't want you to wake up and regret that you offered me your friendship. But I've never been a 'good' man you know?"

It's Cor'lana who moves next. She rises from the couch and goes to sit next to Zalgiman. She's close to him of her own accord now--not one born of deception or desire to hurt. It's likely a marvel in his eyes that she's here.

"It's true," she begins gently. Somehow closer now, her voice is all more lovely for that softness. She doesn't need to make it carry far. The words only have to be heard by her and him. "You've done awful things. They weigh on you like my regrets weigh on me. But..."

Her hand reaches out to his hand that rests on his knee. Her gentle hand on his, just as Telamon had taken his hand the other evening. And while those violet eyes of hers still glitter with tears--still glow softly with power like the moons Zalgiman had called them--there is a small smile on her face, too. "But you are not on the executioner's block. You have a life in which you can live and atone. I think... You are more capable than you know of being good. Or doing good."

She regards Zalgiman for a moment more before she adds, "Because--if the circumstances were different, I might have been in your shoes, myself. A woman lost and trying to navigate from all of the pain, unable to see what way to go on account of the sorrow blinding her--someone could have found me like how you said Marsward found you. Someone could have found me and led me into evil. That's _why_ I'm stubbornly offering you my kindness and friendship, Zalgiman. Because I do not believe you are damned to be evil. I simply believe--you need someone who loves you to guide you out of the dark. And I can be that. Telamon and I both can be that."

He is amazed, by her kindness, her closeness, and her gentleness. That she offers all three to someone who has offered her only himself as an enemy... He finds himself flushing inexplicably and he is aware of her gaze though his own refuses to lift. "I owe you both a debt for the offer. One I hope to repay by being of some aid to you. So ask what you will Cor'lana. Perhaps some small good can come of this terrible play."

"For right now, Zalgiman... I want to be your friend. And an ally in this effort to stop Marsward." Cor'lana's words are delivered with a small smile, although she looks just a little confused as she observes the flush on Zalgiman's face. "Although... I was wondering."

And here it's her turn to look bashful. "I, ah. I was wondering if there was a nickname you'd like me to use for you? I know nicknames are things typically made up by friends in the spur of the moment, but... I like agreed-upon nicknames. For example, you can call me Lana."

"Lana," Pothy echoes from his couch, looking a tiny bit miffed that he was abandoned. Cor'lana looks back up at the white raven and snickers.

"Sorry. That's Apotheosis--Pothy for short. He's my familiar. I inherited him from my mother, who inherited him from her father... And on and on and on. He's trying to get me to come back over and feed him."

Except Pothy shakes his head, and then whistles at Cor'lana. Apparently something within the whistle puts her off, because she blushes and shakes her head vigorously. "We are doing nothing of the sort!" she says with a huff. Sadly, that results in Lana taking her hand off Zalgiman's.

"Nickname?" Zalgiman asks, and she clarifies using her own name as an example and that of her familiar. "I knew of Pothy's name from the local vendors, but didn't know it was a nickname. I've never had one myself really?"

He looks up finally and shrugs. "Never really had a friend before. Not really. Honestly I thought you went out drinking beer with your buddies. That's what everyone I know does." Zalgiman smiles. "Not that I mind the alternative."

His eyes land on Pothy. "Doing nothing of what sort?"

Cor'lana's blush on her face is still bright. "Don't worry about it," she mutters. "He was accusing me of things I have no intent of doing. He's... Well, he's my little brother, in a sense. We were raised together."

She reaches into her pocket and holds out a handful of dried berries. This results in Pothy taking flight to rest on her arm, happily eating from her hand. It's odd to see, really--an unusually-colored raven resting so gently on her arm, not at all hurting her with its talons, although that raven is even odder still as he just peers up at Zalgiman and _stares_.

"You and I really are too far alike," Cor'lana murmurs in a sort of astonishment. "Did you know, when I came to Alexandria--I never had another friend before? The closest one I had was Pothy, and... That was back when I couldn't talk to him or even remember my own name."

She looks thoughtful for a moment. "How do you feel about... Zal?"

"That sounds like a story." Zalgiman offers with interest. His curiosity is on his features as he stares back at Pothy. He doesn't seem to quite know what to make of the bird and then he offers a polite nod. "If you are Cor'lana's brother - then I am honored to know you. And I apologize to you for the hardship I'm sure that my actions have caused to you by distressing your sister."

"Zal? Sure." He offers a more certain smile that is surprisingly quick to fade into thought and he shakes his head before continuing. "But I'm sure you've more important things on your mind than what to call me."

Pothy stares at Zalgiman a moment longer. Then, flatly, he says, in a copy of Cor'lana's voice, "Snacks?"

"_Please_ don't make Zal bribe you for your approval," Cor'lana expresses with a sigh. "And you haven't done anything wrong, Zal. If anything, you've given him ample material for him to torment me with. He's a little... feathered jerk sometimes."

She looks at Pothy for a long moment before she looks at Zalgiman. "Pothy was in my house when Marsward attacked it in a rage," she says. "When Telamon and I pulled Micha away from Marsward's influence, that's when he broke into our house and destroyed our things. It's... been renovated since then. I've had all of my poetry books put back together. But until Marsward is dead, Telamon and I aren't moving back in."

Cor'lana looks uncertain for a moment. "... If I give that scroll to Dace Zinskas, he says he'll use it to destroy the device that powers the portal. But it sounded to me like he intends to use the Red Maw, once it's fully under his control, to bring about his own version of the end of our world. I think--the best option we have is to give it to him but to try and take both Dace Zinskas and Marsward out at once." A beat, before she adds, "What do you think?"

"Marsward wrecked your place?" Zalgiman askes still looking at Pothy and suddenly he lets out a little chuckle. "I don't mind Cor'lana. If snacks will make a good apology I'll find something. I owe you guys more than that."

He thinks a moment and shakes his head as he considers Cor'lana's words. "Did he actually say that though? That he was going to use the scroll to destroy the device that powers the portal? Last I knew he *was* the one that had it, but... Things could have changed since my death."

"Telamon asked him if his target was the device that powered the portal. Dace... nodded, and then replied he would prefer almost any fate other than one that would see Marsward and V. But that could have been in answer to..."

Cor'lana frowns. "Damn it. I should have known better. That was his response to Telamon's other sentiment. He intends to do _something_ with that scroll, however. Telamon asked what the effects of it would be, and... Dace responded that Marsward would try to kill him, or he'll kill Marsward. 'Either way those that flocked to him because of Zalgiman will fade away. Either way, he will be at an end as a viable threat. To any of us.' He said those words precisely."

She looks at Zalgiman. "Is... there something else Marsward has? I know that Micha told us about the fact Marsward's scarab is what gives him the bulk of his powers, but..."

"Marsward has a lot of things. I'm surprised that anyone noticed the scarab. Marsward hides it carefully. But he's been collecting magical items and various artifacts for years. Things he uses to keep himself on top of the pack. He's not a powerful fighter, but he can drain a man's vitality and strength easily. I've seen him use a... wand? To steal a man's life while he just... sat there. That's not even counting the forces he can draw on if he's truly in danger. He is... allied with many fiends."

"In other words, it could be anything if it's not explicitly that device. But whatever it is--Dace is sure that it'll render Marsward a threat." Cor'lana's brows furrow in thought.

"Which means that perhaps he intends to use that device to keep the portal open and use it for his own purposes. We _really_ need to close that portal, then. And if he has the device that powers it..."

Cor'lana's violet eyes are lethal as they come as she looks at Zalgiman. "Then it appears we have to kill them both in one fell swoop. I ask you this, then: will you be willing to help us in that?"

Zalgiman holds up his hands gently. "You need not make assumptions based off my hunches!" He looks a little concerned then. "I could be wrong. It's possible he's decided that there's too much risk to the Red Maw and that he needs to do this to end that risk. He cares a lot about that... thing. Really... I can't be certain of anything though."

He hesitates here and then bulls forward. "I could go back. I could try and spy on them both and find out what's going on. I'd just need to recruit a few souls to the cause and Marsward... he'd be happy to have me back and doing his bidding." Zalgiman's hand clutches his knee, knuckles turning white and he doesn't even notice.

"Really, that'd be your best way of knowing for sure."

Faster than she herself realizes it, her hand goes back to Zalgiman's. This time, however, her hand does not merely drape across his for comfort. It's a squeeze. Her face close to his as she's turned to look at him. Not _too_ close--but this is the closest they've gotten so far since he returned to life.

"No," she says. Firmly. It's an order, in fact, accented by how those violet eyes glow a little stronger with the flare of her emotions. "I don't want you anywhere near that man. I don't want you doing his dirty work again. I won't ask you to wallow in that pit he's built for you, that cell that's got a plaque on the bars that indicates it's yours. I _won't_."

There's a moment before she adds, "I don't abide cages, just like you told me in your letters that a wolf doesn't enjoy fences and walls to keep him in place. I will never ask someone to put themselves back in a cage because I will never _want_ to be caged again."

Pain's in her last word. Pothy looks up at her sympathetically. There is, indeed, a story to tell there.

Zalgiman shakes his head at her vehemence, squeezing her hand back. "You say 'no', but you can't afford these high ideals Cor'lana. I built that cage too. I filled it in with all the niceties I told myself made it worth living in. I know how to get out, and this is something I can do to help. Something I can do to give you what you need. Would I be a good friend if I left you to figure out this whole problem by yourself; if I didn't help you guys find a way out of the mess I helped create?"

He shakes his head again. "It's okay Cor'lana. It's not forever."

Cor'lana... looks at him. Her eyes welling with tears again. "I wi--"

She bites down the word, crackling with power she hadn't even intended, before she finds herself... tired. Overwhelmed. Inconsolable in some sense. Either way, her head finds its way to Zalgiman's shoulder, where she puts her chin as she holds Zalgiman's hand and he holds her hand.

"I want, so badly," she whimpers, "the power to save people who suffer like me. Like us. And I've gotten so far. And... I'm still so short. All I have is the hope that one day I'll get there. That one day I'll have all the answers. That one day I will be able to defeat everything and everyone that weighs me down and makes me wish to drown."

Her eyes shut tightly. "Please promise me he won't turn you against me. Please promise me he won't take away this bit of happiness. Please promise me he won't shut the door that I'm holding open right now. Because if I let you walk away, I'm scared that's precisely what will happen, Zal. If you can promise all of that to me and be truthful with your promise--then I'm okay with it."

He lets out a harsh little chuckle. "Aren't promises for children?" Zalgiman says but doesn't mean anything harsh by it. It's just the kind of life he's lived. A life where promises are things given to children and almost always broken. "I promise Cor'lana." He doesn't intend to break it, but then... That doesn't change the truth.

"Then make it an oath or a vow," Cor'lana responds quietly, still on Zalgiman's shoulder. "If promises are for children, then swear it to me."

But then she lifts her head from his shoulder. Her eyes, filled with tears, look at him. "Because I vow to you--if Marsward turns you into something you should not be, I will do anything to save you. I _will_. If I must move the heavens and the mountains, I will. If I must beseech the most powerful of magics--I will. I am so frequently a failure--but I will do everything in my power to succeed in at least that matter."

Pothy stares at the two of them now. He's hopped off Cor'lana's arm and allowed the two their moment of closeness. He makes a coughing noise.

"Oh." There's a blink and a bashful look on Cor'lana's face. She stands up from the couch and goes to her side again, to retrieve her teacup.

"... You know. Now that we've discussed the parts that shouldn't be discussed outdoors. Perhaps we could go for a walk in the market together?" It's a hopeful thing, a grasp for something normal amidst the darkness.

Zalgiman has nothing to say, nothing that could change her mind even if he'd wish it. "Let it be then." He says quietly and there's a... feeling in the air. A feeling of destiny. Of fate writing itself. A moment where what has been said and what was just said feels suddenly important... and then the moment fades and Zalgiman rises to his feet. "Yea. Lets go out. I want..." He looks a the door. "That sounds great."

They leave together, outside into the warm summery day. Out into the light.

Both knowing that tomorrow would be a different day.

-End