Sir Tristram Solis, or just Solis if you don’t appreciate life’s little formalities, was the first of the men walking through that doorway. A solitus man that seemed to radiate regality, he was one of those more chivalrous types of men in life who found his niche as the leader of the Knights of Avalon…You’d expect him to be a lot more talkative though, but I suppose he let his actions speak for themselves. He didn’t say a single word, nor did he need to. All I needed to know could be gleaned from those eyes of his…
The other man, smelling thickly of imported cigar smoke that hung aloft in near-invisible wisps, was none other than Alan Jacobi of the Athen Vanguards. This was a man with money thoroughly on his mind, although somehow, he managed to keep that mind in the right place as far as the Clans’ interests were concerned. He was a tall, thin Opifex man, much like myself, and even kept his hair in a similar fashion…although it had grayed with age, or perhaps from absorbing too much cigar smoke through his lungs. A smoking cigar in one hand, briefcase in the other, I could tell that all he wanted was to get rid of me, and get right back to business, making more money in the process.
I, on the other hand, could hardly talk…My mind was frozen, I didn’t know what to say, what to do, or even how to react. Part of me wanted to just go for broke and run at the door, but the muscles in my legs and the nerves controlling them were at ends with another…and wouldn’t work. What else could I do, but just pick some random point, and start from there..?
“…I don’t think even one of you would believe what I have to say…” But what DID I have to say?? Nothing!
“Why don’t you try then?” Chrisax kept his arms folded, only for a brief moment glancing to the men who’d just walked in, eyes returning right to where all the attention in the room was.
“I am someone known...for his ears...and for listening. Try...me.” Aideen didn’t seem any less disgusted, but he certainly wasn’t lying. Talking to Aideen, strangely enough, was like having a talk with some sort of guru, as odd as that sounds. It was as if under the surface, beneath that atrox skin of his, there was something else entirely…and it felt comforting.
That little bit of comfort was all I needed…and the words just poured.
“…The…the reason I’m here, is because the Legion’s gone. I’ve been doing nothing but living out in the woods for the past four months, going through hell and back, and lying to this Council all so I could try and bring them down…”
Lie…Truth…Half-truth…Truth…Truth. My mind strung through the words as a thread through the eye of a series of needles, trying to shift everything I was doing from one thing, to the other.
Sure, I had been trying for much of that year to bring the kidnapping, child-murdering Legionnaires to justice. I’d gotten far too involved, falling into it myself, becoming a part of what I’d sought to eradicate. Elaborate, sure…but the lengths I’d had to go to, just to get the leader of the Legionnaires to have some faith in me and let me on the inside, were what I seemed to be dealing with right there and then.
It wasn’t enough that I told the Legion’s leader, Volcatius, that I was one of them. I had to show it. Since I’m not actually a terrorist, the only way I could think of was to convince others that I was a threat. Visibly cut the ties, and then with hope my credibility would skyrocket with the Legion.
It didn’t.
Instead, I was left alone, hung out to dry in the middle of the woods, hiding from everybody I’d known as allies, and in wait for something, ANYTHING that could have put an end to the eternity of waiting.
It dawned on me, that maybe what was happening right before me, was my chance to put a stop to all the hiding...all the skulking and vanishing acts. Even if the Legionnaires were still active somewhere in the world, I just didn’t care…I wanted to return, to come back to the place where things made sense.
The last thing I expected to feel, there in that room, my mind motoring at a hundred miles a second, was comfort. A chance to set things at least partially right…and if that meant I needed to rot away in some jail cell, at least I’d have a roof over my head to rot away in.
I missed that.