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Ashveil wasn't expecting anything to come from his late night walk amongst the slowly emptying streets of Dovebrook District, in all honesty he was hoping he could blend in with the usual late-night early-morning crowd and clear his head without any detours, so he was quite surprised to run into a once familiar face seemingly waiting for him. Blade, that's what he goes by now Ashveil recalls, had positioned himself in the shadows, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He would have been easy to miss if not for his eyes, which were currently burning holes into Ashveil’s skull. He felt himself cracking a smile despite himself.
“Well well, look who we have here. Certainly not the man I was expecting to see just out and about. What's the occasion?”
He doesn't receive an immediate reply, but the swordsman does remove himself from the wall and walk to his side, both falling into step as they continue to walk through the shadowy streets.
“I expected to be waiting a while longer.”
“Oh? Looking to see me, specifically? I’m flattered, really, but if anything it should’ve been the other way around. What kind of detective worth his salt is the one being hunted?”
“Mm… Didn't you fail to recognize Silver Wolf.” It's a statement, not a question. Ashveil picks up on that immediately. He considers trying to defend himself for approximately three seconds before promptly giving up.
“Not my… finest moment, I admit.”
The silence that follows does not make him feel any better. In fact, he can feel himself being judged despite the other not doing anything to make it obvious. He coughs into fist awkwardly.
“Anywayy, you never answered my question. At least, not properly. Why are you out and about this time of night?”
“I did. I was waiting for you.”
The promptness and sincerity of the response has him inhale sharply, taken aback, “What?” He says, far more breathless than he would ever admit, “Surely there are better things for you to do with your time?”
“Hm… There are. But they can wait.”
“You…” Ashveil pinches the bridge of his nose, “Some things never change, huh.”
The swordsman doesn't give him a verbal response, instead giving him a slight tilt of the head and an almost imperceptibly raised eyebrow. He swears his heart skips a beat at the almost familiar sight. He lets the silence stretch for a moment too long, and Blade turns away.
He kicks himself mentally.
“I meant to say that despite everything that has happened… and all of the time that has passed, I believe it would be impossible for me to mistake you for someone else.” He pauses, glancing over at the other man as they make a turn, trying to gauge his reaction, but he is met with a blank expression. “I believe this to be a good thing… just so you know. Your comment simply… reminded me of something you said once. I remember you always being so willing to ignore important business matters and commissions to instead work on whatever caught your interest,” He laughs, taking a moment to remove his hat and run his good hand through his hair, “I always admired that about you. When given the choice, you did what you wanted, uncaring of what others thought or said. Even if you were a bit of a smug asshole at times.”
He glances to the side and swears he sees a small smile resting on those deathly pale lips. “It was always such a fascinating experience to watch you at work. Did you ever end up realizing that you stuck your tongue out when you concentrated hard enough? Because you did,” he’s rambling now, he knows he is, but he can't find it in himself to stop, “You always had this aura of utter pride whenever you showcased a finished project, like you knew it was utterly flawless even without any testing. No matter how odd the piece was. I’m still curious about where you learned to make prosthetics, by the way.”
They take another turn and wind up in a completely empty street, almost unheard of in Dovebrook, but Ashveil won't complain.
“I often regret not checking up on you again. After I left. Maybe this reunion could have happened years earlier if I had. Or maybe things would've gone completely differently.” He leaves the implication unsaid. They both know what he means.
Blade is silent, has been the entire time, Ashveil realizes belatedly, a little embarrassed, but he watches as the swordsman inhales and opens his mouth.
“Why didn't you say anything?”
He feels his heart stop, and shudders out a laugh.
“Was it so obvious back then as well?” Blade inclines his head and hums slightly in agreement, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his face, a memory of the light those eyes use to hold taunting the ranger beside him. “And here I thought I was yearning for you in secrecy and silence for all those years.” Ashveil barks a laugh, but there is no humor in it.
The silence stretches between them.
“...I didn't intend to upset you.”
“Oh, don't worry about me. You deserved to hear it from me at some point anyway. If I didn't know any better, I’d say we could consider ourselves lucky to have crossed paths again all these years later.”
“Hm…” Blade hums a noise of what Ashveil can only assume to be disagreement, “Time has taken many things from me, and has denied me even more, but…” He pauses, the silence stretching longer than should be comfortable, but Ashveil feels no need to interrupt, “Seeing you again… Has brought me a… peace I have not felt in centuries.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
The side eye he receives quickly kicks his brain back into gear, and if anyone asked he would deny nearly tripping over nothing as he worked his final remaining brain cell to death.
He clears his throat in an attempt to save face.
“I am more than happy to be such a source of comfort, then. …If you will continue to have me, that is.”
That’s what breaks the other man's stoic facade, a small chuckle drifting through the cold night air, Blade coming to a stop as he turns to look at Ashveil properly. The ranger swears he feels his heart skip a beat.
“Why would I ever send you away?” He asks, the most subtle hint of amusement seeping into his voice, and for a moment they're both 700 years younger and everything is still ok.