Chapter Text
“Oh my god and then the way you just- pSHOOW! And then BLAM the monster was stunned and it was so cool , Beau!” Jester leaps from the upholstery and mimics an exaggerated landing with gusto. Beauregard jumps up from her footstool to clap, stuttering briefly to wince with her bruises but with no less enthusiasm. Veth cheers loudly with whoops and shouts and even Fjord is interjecting with deep rumbles of ‘yeah!’
“And then in comes Essek all mysterious and shadowy with a WHOOSH of his cloak and the creature POOFS out of existence like that-” two halfling fingers snap together loudly. “-only to REAPPEAR a few seconds later and after we all escaped its range... ”
Jester cups her hands around her mouth and exaggerated stage-whispers of “ooooo” and “whaaaat? That’s crazy! ”
Essek chuckles as Veth returns to her dramatic narration, eyes wide and hands gesturing.
“Then Fjord jumps in with his weak and thin wrists swinging the glowing blade-!”
“Hey-!”
“And slices it cleaaaaaan down the middle! In one failed swoop-
“Isn’t it ‘fell’ swoop?” Caduceus quietly wonders beside Essek.
“-Ending its terrible tyranny in the Aeor streets.” She clutches her hands to her chest with a mock expression of tragedy before shooting them skyward and loudly proclaiming- “And that is how the Mighty Nein survived yet another vicious attack and lived to tell the tale!” She cuts the air to demonstrate the finale of the story and Beau whoops once more with a wince, Jester jumps with glee and Yasha politely claps. Caleb calls for Encore and Fjord shakes his head but cheers anyway. Caduceus smiles and drinks deeply from his tea. Essek laughs to himself and raises his glass at the performance.
The ladies take a bow and curtsey, the fireplace behind them giving them an ethereal glow almost and they return to their seats with laughter on their lips and glee in their spirits.
The energy was certainly polarised from the sticky situation they had found themselves in only a few hours prior.
The ruins of Aeor were dark and treacherous. For as little as Essek had delved with his own team of Dynasty professionals, going in with the Mighty Nein was quite possibly the most foolhardy decision he had ever made in his life- which was saying something.
It wasn’t that they did not attempt to be cautious and subtle - they were well aware of the unfathomable monstrosities lurking down here - it was just that they were so...so….
Them.
Clever plans and carefully laid out strategies often went awry within the first few stages and Essek was beginning to understand that their most powerful group trait was their unpredictability and their fierce need to protect one another. Normally a strategist would easily attempt to exploit the latter as a weakness but it just made the Nein stronger and Essek was genuinely impressed with the determination and dedication they all displayed amidst combat.
What surprised him even more is how easily he fell into the fold.
Essek had always considered himself outside and adjacent to the Mighty Nein. They were their own den and he was an ally on the periphery- whether through his own foolish notions or something else he did not seek to understand, but he just accepted it as it was. He was just happy to be in their proximity for as long as they would let him. They had displayed themselves as close-knit that very first day where they revealed they had crossed Xhorhas - potentially extreme hostile territory- just to rescue the spouse of one of their own from the heart of his capital. They did not have a plan or solid information but that did not deter them.
Their commitment and ability to ‘wing it’ were truly their greatest strengths- and now that included him.
For one whose entire life, goals, and achievements had been wrought through careful step-by-step planning and enacting of said plans, working with the Mighty Nein had aged Essek in ways stress of hiding said schemes never did. But… he was adapting. He was learning. He was… evolving.
He had done little else since meeting them, if he had to be honest.
Essek joined them on this borderline suicidal mission for two reasons. The first- he owed them this. They had given him a chance where he was not owed anything . Essek could have abused that, perhaps. He had even entertained the idea for the briefest of moments before there was a voice laughing in his mind in mockery at the thought.
He was truly a fool for these folk.
The second was just because he yearned to be near them. Nothing more, nothing less.
Essek laughs deep into his glass tumbler as Veth, taking Caleb’s call for encore seriously, dramatically re-enacts another ‘epic moment’ from their battle with one of these monstrosities earlier. Her expressions are exaggerated and her voice shrill with her battle cry but the atmosphere is electric within this haven.
Having returned to Caleb’s most remarkable dimension a few hours after the battle, the group had routinely gone to their rooms to unwind and clean… to consistently return together for a meal. It was a simple habit that had formed over their last nine days traversing the ruins but it meant a lot to them all. A few of the evenings had been melancholic and quiet as they would all feel the weight of the world bearing down on them from above more keenly. Enclosed in this unnatural frozen-over cavern, Aeor had been plunged into darkness and had not seen daylight in centuries. A comment early on from Yasha said that it reminded her of the tunnel they followed into Xhorhas months ago and the rest had murmured miserably.
Caleb would bring out a floating ball of light on these occasions to cheer them up. In the last two nights within the tower the beautifully designed windows that would greet them had been altered. The symbols and representations of the schools of magic remained, but they had been made smaller to accommodate new images- ones of the Xhorhaus and the tree. One he recognised as the skyline of Nicodranas. There were other similar pleasant pictures to greet them now, no doubt from the Nein’s own adventures. There was a field of beautifully coloured flowers, a quaint village surrounded by a river and farming fields. A boat with little geometric crew sailed on sunny seas.- Essek recognised a couple from his brief times on their ship. The rectangular tortle would wave in greeting and musical notes would float across the glass as a triangular, blonde half-elf danced nearby. There was a small shrine or church surrounded by much flora and history, little shadows crossing a warm light in the window resembling Caduceus’ profile. An orange cat chasing a toy or trinket would dart within all of the scenes.
It was all very personalised and Essek could only marvel and wonder in awe at the amount of love poured into it.
It clearly had the intended effect as now they were (unfaithfully) recounting their close skirmish earlier which left not but a few of them with scars, scratches and painful bruises. Essek’s own ribs were still tender after narrowly escaping the crushing clutches of one of the eternal, malformed sentinels stalking these broken streets.
They were hardy, these Aeorian guardians (or ‘Aeordians’ as Jester and Veth liked to call them- the name had yet to stick), and more than difficult to handle when they had fought just one.
Today had been a group of three.
The stakes had been higher than ever. The closer they scoured to where they believed Lucien to be headed, the more of these they encountered.
To make matters worse, the ‘Aeordians’ appeared to be stronger the deeper they went. A millennium isolated within the arcane conflation that the crash seemed to have caused meant that they had a thousand years to mutate as a result. By sheer luck they had happened across an untouched cache of carefully stowed research and the only reason they had torn Caleb, Beauregard and himself away from it was because time was not their friend. Instead they had collected and packed as much as they could themselves to read in their own time. Essek would do this at night when he required little sleep by comparison and he had discovered much to his equal horror and delight.
The guardians had been intended and designed to live eternally without need for rest or sustenance. They were solely loyal to either their creator or any and all Aeorians. Any attempt to fool them so far with disguises had been met with negative results save once so it was still a little unclear if it worked, but that was not all. What he also discovered is their original designs, and it was by this knowledge that Essek knew that the ones they encountered today were far mutated beyond their initial creation.
Who knows what else may lie in store deeper within?
Where they thought their first encounter with such monsters a week ago was difficult, now it was borderline fatal for any to get hit. They were definitely more malformed and ‘beefed up’, as Fjord described, the further they delved which meant they could not predict what unusual power or strength these creatures might possess now.
And to make it all worse, they were never single sentries any more.
Caduceus and Caleb both had gone down today and it was only by the grace of Fjord’s quick reactions and Essek’s ability to displace the last creature a few seconds out of time that they sat here tonight.
He looks around. The chairs were arranged in an wobbly ‘U’ formation around the fireplace in Caleb’s library-come-lounge and many had fallen into conversation amongst themselves once more. Essek is tired- they all are- but he is more than content to listen right now. He takes another sip of his drink.
He breathes deeply, gingerly reaching for his ribs once more. To his left on one end of a deep green loveseat, Caduceus lounges and sips his tea. He drank from a chipped teacup and Essek had taken three nights to gather the courage to enquire as to why.
“Just because it is a little fractured and broken, does not mean it loses value. My sister, Clarabelle, hand painted this years ago-” and he turns to show Essek a beautiful watercolour of flowers he believes to be lilies over placid waters. “-Just for me before she left the grove.”
“Did it become damaged on your travels?” Essek had asked, feeling relaxed that Caduceus did not find his question intrusive.
“Oh, oh no,” he laughs deeply. “This one was chipped long before I left. That’s why I brought it.”
It baffled Essek to say the least, but he was long-practised in just accepting some of the more curious quirks of his friends. It now warms Essek to see the cup and knowing its history and value to Caduceus. It was like a blooming feeling within his chest- something he was getting a little more used to these days the more time he spent amongst them. Such as tonight.
As exhaustion creeps upon him, Essek settles in a little further to the deep cushion of his armchair. And it was his armchair. A deep, alluring purple with buttoned upholstery, a high comfortable back and long, elegant wooden arms and legs, this seat had appeared on the first night he had come in here. There were many variations of seats around this fictional fireplace and the group had all gravitated to their predictably routine seating arrangement. This had left this one, beautiful chair empty and Caleb had silently gestured for Essek to settle with a hidden smile in his eyes.
Essek had slowly run his fingers over the beautifully carved frame of the chair as he walked around it, admiring its design but more specifically what it meant- inclusion.
He had descended slowly into it and found it supportive and deceptively comfortable. And it was his . With a smile gracing his face unbidden, Essek had turned to Caleb to thank him sincerely.
“Ja,” he had said in return. “Of course.” It came out quiet and breathy and sincere and Essek took it for one of the little olive branches they had been exchanging in their time travelling together. Caleb sat to Essek’s right now, completing the group and that was their ritual. So now he would automatically make way for his chair on nights like these and unwind as much as he could.
He drums his fingers idly along the edge of his glass and brings it up for another sip.
Essek was not a stranger to alcoholic drinks. He had a preference for Menagerie grape wines, a fondness for Dynasty rice wines, and an appreciation for Empire spirits. And sometimes he just sought the mellowing that came with any of them regardless.
Tonight’s serving had been customised - or cat- stomised as Veth had piped up - as had become the apparent norm during their stays in the tower. Fjord held a tankard, Jester some fresh, ever-chilled milk. Beauregard and Yasha tried something new every night, Veth usually chose a light rosé but tonight she was on hot cocoa. Caduceus brewed his own tea, of course, and Essek delighted in each new scent that he brought when sitting beside Essek. Tonight was a mint-chamomile concoction, he was told- from the grave of an elderly healer who had hailed from Gwardan.
Just another one of their many, many quirks.
Caleb had asked if he could order something for them both and Essek, intrigued, had said yes.
What he was handed (via a feline waiter named Fuzzy , of all things, though it was swiftly becoming the least bizarre thing he had encountered daily) was a small, elegant crystal tumbler. He admired this first and concluded it was something he would be sure to only be found likely in the noblest of houses in the Empire. The colour shimmering within was a stunning honey colouration and by the firelight it looked borderline liquid gold.
An experienced imbiber, Essek had studied the contents visually to full appreciation before elegantly swirling the whisky. He then studied the fragrance with a practised and patient air. What greeted him was nothing shy of pleasant. An aroma of sweet and heat , a promise of something rich and a seductive hint of a secret aftertaste. The whisky’s perfume had filled his lungs and left his throat with a teasing allurement.
His first sip was delicate and demure. What his nose had predicted did not disappoint and the rich flavour of the drink washed through him like silk sliding across polished marble. It was smooth and inviting and Essek spared a pause before taking a second sip.
Flavours cleverly hidden in the bouquet had then burst forth. The initial wave of sensations gracefully gave way to the main composition and Essek closed his eyes to discern each one.
Honey. Fruit...apricot, he believed, yes. It would lend to the golden aspect. A hint of almond whispers as he swallowed and finally in the lingering aftertaste a suggestion of vanilla smoothed over his palette.
Euphoric.
Licking his lips, he had turned to compliment and thank Caleb only to find the man in question peering at him with an unreadable expression, his own glass paused halfway to his mouth.
“You, ah...you like it, then?”
“I very much do, yes. Thank you,” Essek had said with a respectful nod and toast.
Essek’s chair was not at either end of this U-shaped arrangement, but Caleb’s was next to him. It was very easy when looking to Essek’s right to have the rest of the room fade from view and only centred on the man seated there. It was especially easy when he looked at Essek with a lingering expression such as that. And given their proximity, their voices were always quiet too. Private, even.
Intimate, perhaps.
He had licked his lips a second time and even now, a half-hour later, he is not sure he can blame that on the whisky. Caleb definitely noticed the movement regardless of cause. What had been a period calming down after a great deal of stress because immediately charged for yet other reasons.
This was not the first happening of such … unspoken connection. While they had been there in the beginning and only growing in intensity, Nicodranas had shattered all of that. After spending so many days together now in close quarters and unintentionally, naturally perhaps, rebuilding some of those fractured foundations, Essek had realised that these moments were starting to happen with alarming frequency.
And curse him if he didn’t fear them.
He had every right to. He should. In fact he should actively discourage them. His primary reasoning was that this was simply an adrenaline-fuelled response from their previous, and admittedly still present , intellectual chemistry and their daily evasion of death.
Nothing more, he lied to himself.
Caleb’s eyes had flickered once more to where Essek’s tongue had darted out and a gentle wave of something… something exciting whispered from Essek’s stomach. He did not even have the denial to attempt to blame the whisky. There would be little point.
Essek had no allusions to anything. No hopes or… well. Perhaps a small hope that at the very least their friendship was salvageable. Even if not … but then perhaps as future academic partners. They were compatible in at least that area and he knew Caleb recognised that. Their nightly delves into the Aeorian texts still proved that.
But Essek dare not hope for anything beyond that. Not with the stakes. Not with his past decisions chasing him down with increasing haste.
No. He was content like this with him. With them. So he told himself.
He doesn’t know if Caleb had sensed the discomfort or war within Essek, but he coughed and looked away, allowing Essek freedom from that direct gaze. Essek had, without shame, watched Caleb’s throat move when he drank his own whisky and berated himself for doing so.
Caleb had smacked his lips in appreciation. “Ah, yes. A fine blend indeed.” Essek could only silently tip his glass in agreeance and the next thing he knew Veth and Jester were throwing themselves energetically into their tale of today.
This was not exactly where he portended he would be a year ago, but as he closes his eyes, leans his head back and listens to the growing ridiculous antics of his friends he smiles. He would not have it any other way.
And when a pillow narrowly misses his left ear and ruffles his hair a little, well, Essek just has to respond.
Fjord and Beauregard call him out for cheating by using Graviturgy to topple them both with a cushion, but Essek just shrugs and takes another sip of his whisky with a winning smirk.
Ah, tasted even better in victory.