The light of Lumos illuminated the dark streets of Medici, shadowed even by the moon and stars. The small orb orbits closely to the shoulder of an ancient elf, one with close ties and even closer history to the capital of Italia. Despite the blessing by the spirit of Light herself, the ancient elf struggles to see through the dim light in front of her. Such was the darkness of the night, where the clouds cast a conspiracy of blindness amongst the street dwellers.
Of course, such street dwellers was sparce. With Elastra having been "summoned" shortly after arriving in Medici. A cloaked man strutted up to her, with the signature logo of the purging hand, left hand surrounded by fire. The man stared into the ground, and with haste, merely whispered "The right hand has summon you. Come by the office. You already know the way". Shortly after, he left, eyes still boring into the ground.
As she makes her way into the city, passing the big gates of the Purging Hands - only making it through her memory alone, did she stumble into a familiar face in the dark. Suddenly appearing, unveiled in the dark by a torchlight was Hansen, in a comfortable tunic, making his way to the same direction. He seems to spot Elastra, having jolted backwards in fright before calming himself down.
"I thought you were a ghost," he says, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question," Elastra continues, "Let me guess. Was it the Right Hand?"
"That's true. How did you know?"
For now, Elastra evaded the question, "Then, there's no question that this meeting is on the topic of Eve".
"I see. Did he also summon you?"
"That's right"
Hansen raises his torchlight, looking around at the eerie surrounding.
"How hospitable of them to invite us at this hour," he sardonically remarks.
"That's just how they like to operate," Elastra says, "Always has been".
They make their way up the maze of rooms and staircases within a building, with Elastra leading the way with her past memories of traversing the place during the Ashen Purge. From time to time, she remarks that the layout has change somewhat since her last time there. Finally, they arrive at the door of the Right Hand of the Purgers.
Elastra knocks softly on the door, before announcing her presence, "Elastra Dawnlight, reporting in".
"Come in," says the voice from behind the door, "You too, Hansen".
Hansen raises an eyebrow at this mysterious figure behind the door, wondering what blessings allowed him to deduce his existence behind the door.
They both open the black iron door, and step inside into the dimly lit room, lighted only by the hanging lantern from the ceiling along with a singular candle upon a desk. A dark looming figure sits behind the desk, hunch over a pile of paper.
Hansen's eyes narrowed. These were the reports of the campaign submitted. The very documents that were altered to conceal the truth of the incident at the camp.
The man stands up, instantly revealing his features underneath his dark cloak. A singular monocle hangs above the bridge of his crooked nose, his face sharp, and his brows furrows deeply downwards. Multiple lines etched his worn out forehead, eyebags clearly shown upon his pale cheeks.
"Elastra Dawnlight," he intones, "Such a pleasure it is finally meet the woman behind the myth".
"I'm the Right Hand of the Purging Hands," with a humorless smile the man states, "Please... Call me Felippe"
The man gives a Merlinian bow, one hand on the shoulder and a bow to which Elastra responded kindly to. The man gives off a toothless grin before sitting down, motioning them to do the same. Hansen stares at Elastra who wordlessly move to sit down in front of Felippe and follows sue.
"Indeed," the ancient elf mutters, voice measured, "To what do I owe this pleasure to?"
Felippe exhales, his fingers steepling together as he peers down the document before him. "Ah, well," he muses, "Being the right hand, it falls upon me to deliver the decision of the Conclave".
"This was a unanimous decision - A rarity, I assure you," the monocled man continues, "The Big Three has decided on a matter of utmost urgency and have concluded that you are to be reassigned".
"Reassigned?" Her eyes narrows at him.
"That's right," Felippe nods, a slight shake in his voice betrays his confidence, "Effective immediately, you are to report to the School of Arcarnum. You will serve in an instructional capacity, guiding the next generation"
Then, he looks over to Hansen, addressing him for the first time, "As with you, Hansen Valcoran".
Hansen gulps nervously, feeling a swell of burning from the pits of his stomach. His forehead begin to sweat as his breath begins to pitch. His fingers twitch by his sides, as he inhales sharply, the air suddenly feels thinner.
"Why?" he asks, forcing his breath steady, "I-I served the Kingdom well. Haven't I?"
Felippe stares blankly at the man before exhaling through his nose, slow and measured. Without a word, he remove his monocle, setting it carefully atop the table.
"There is no doubt on the excellence of your service during the campaign, Captain Hansen," the man speaks softly, "As were you, Grand Magister".
Hansen's eyes flinches and twitches. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting, searching for something - anything to say. Anything that will make reinstate his role again, to undo his injustice.
But no words came.
The silence came between them. Taut, and suffocating. A standoff though, only a fool would mistake it as such.
Then, Elastra broke through -
She exhales through her nose, folding her arms as she leans backward into the chair. Eyes half-lidded, unimpressed.
"Let's cut to the chase," she mouths, "This is about the elven child, no?".
Silently, she flick her gaze to Hansen - wordlessly commanding him. 'Play Along!'
It worked. The tightness in his chest abates, his breath returning to their nature rhythm. The man stares back at Felippe, eyes fully grounded in reality, ready to tackle his mind games.
Leaning back, he folds his arm - this time not in authority but in calculated defense. He taps his chin with his finger several times, his mouth twisting as if savoring the moment.
"Indeed," he mutters, "Quite a display today during the Flux Resonance today. Such a talent cannot go ignored".
Then, a sigh, long and weary, "Still, her mysterious appearance raises a lot of questions".
"An elf," his breath in pointed disbelief, "with no trace of lineage". He lets the words hang, flickering his gaze before falling on Hansen, "Tell me. How many elves do you know, Captain?"
"Only Elastra, sir"
Felippe lets the words roll off his tongue with deliberate slowness, savoring the weight of them, "Only Elastra". His voice echoes with measured amusement, his gaze flickering towards the ancient elf to study her reaction before continuing.
"Tell me, then," he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he continues, "How curious is it that one appears. An elf with no record, name, nor ties - spotted among a group of heretical cultists".
His finger drums upon the wooden desk. "I find that rather... troubling, don't you?" he asks, letting the question hang in the air.
Elastra leans forward, staring into the eyes of the man, "The reports tell you of all that we know, officer".
"Is your intention merely to toy with us?" she asks, her head tilting ever so slightly.
She continues without missing a beat with her tone growing sharper, "Such questioning could be done over letters. Could it not?"
The man chuckles - a dry knowing sound. The exchange seems to have invigorated him further instead of tiring him out. He tilts his head, offering a slight shrug
"Still," he muses, voice light with amusement "The questions must be answered".
He coughs, changing his expression back to his stony gaze. The mirth vanishing from his face as his face hardens.
"I find it deeply concerning that you made no efforts to investigate the background of the child, Elastra".
"Especially since she is of your kind," he flips the paper on this desk and push one forward.
There was a pause. His next words are heavier.
"There's also the fact that she has been touched by heretical magic".
He takes a moment to measure both Elastra's and Hansen's reactions. Seeing the lack of it, his gaze landed on Hansen.
"Tell me, Hansen," he asks in an almost robotic tone, "What do you make of the magic? The one that invaded the camp?".
Hansen swallows his voice hard, feeling the gaze of ancient elf beside him, urging him to keep following the script.
"There's no doubt in my mind that it's heretical," he nervously answers, forcing his voice to stay even, "T-That it was a trace of cultists' magic, sir".
Felippe hums, tilting his head. Then, with a wry chuckle, he mutters to himself, "My, a scholar amongst the crusaders. A rarity indeed".
Next, Felippe slides his monocle back on as he gazes back onto a piece of paper, "Still, there is no evidence of foul play - nor of any disobedience towards our creed".
He lets off a sigh, as if relieved of a heavy burden, "And so, the assignment stands". His gaze flickers and lands on Elastra, "She is an elf - she is expected to live a very long life".
Then, almost idly, with an unmistaken air of command, he adds, "I expect you two to grow closer".
Elastra nods, understanding the unstated assignment of keeping watch on Eve. An assignment that she has been undertaking all this time, wary of any unseen effect of the possession by Nocturnis.
Though upset by the heavy scrutiny that a mere child is receiving, Elastra leads the conversation with one understanding. That Felippe is merely a waged worker, a man bound by duty regardless of how tasteless they may be.
Seeing Elastra's understanding, his face brightens, "Well! Grand Magister, Captain. That is all that I wish to brief on the both of you tonight".
He leans back, waving his hand in dismissal, "Apologies to interrupt you two on the eve of your triumphant return". The words spoken out of formality rather than a place of sincerity, Then, with a flick of his wrist -
"Now, get out of my office".
Hansen exits quickly, still upset at his perceived "demotion". The door rang heavily against the frame as he left. Before Elastra could get up, however -
"One more thing, Grand Magister-"
Felippe's voice halts her. This time, it carries a tang of humility and sincerity, unbecoming of his typical calculated indifference. It feels almost unnatural.
"It will an embarrassment... and a shame," he says, deliberately "if I had to hand down punishment to a child".
He adjusts his monocle, taking the time to choose the appropriate words.
"I do mean this sincerely," he adds, his gaze lingering on Elastra, "I do not wish for a second Ashen Purge, even if it were upon a single child".
Her gaze sharpens on the man, fury paints her face as she coldly shows him her back and heads to the exit. Somehow, the idea that this man has a conscience - that he could recognize injustice despite enforcing it - sickens her more than his indifference ever could.