Chapter 11
Two Versions
Aquilan couldn’t help smiling as he gazed upon Finley and Vex interacting. It was not at all what anyone would have expected between a young human and the dread Night King. A friendship. Real respect on both sides. Warmth.
People think they know Vex, but then he shows this side of himself and it’s like nothing we’ve been told.
Aquilan couldn’t help but be charmed by it.
The young man was easily speaking with the Night King as if they’d done this every day for centuries and not just for the second time.
While there was a touch of awe in Finley’s expression as he looked upon Vex–a touch of disbelief probably, too, that the notorious Night King he’d only read about was really there, really listening to him–his body language was easy and eager.
No fear to be seen. Finley perched on the edge of the chair and was leaning towards Vex as he gestured excitedly about what had happened when he attempted to enter the Temple of the Necrilem.
“... there was a trap at the front door! If I stepped on the stone walkway, the stones would have sunk into the ground under my weight and a strange black substance would have covered my feet!” Finley exclaimed.
For the Night King’s part, there was the same easy familiarity.
No signs of kingly arrogance at all as he took in Finley’s breathless story as if it were told to him by a dear friend, an equal.
Vex–shirtless and shoeless again and wearing only a pair of crimson wide-legged pants that clung to his narrow hips–lounged easily in his chair.
He’d turned it so that he was fully facing Finley, giving the young man his complete attention.
“Oh my! Clever of you to realize the trap, but what do you suppose the substance was?” Vex looked appropriately horrified with eyes wide and lips parted.
One could almost forget that he had sent Finley there. Had he really not realized that there was a trap like the one Finley had described? Of course, he had. He must have.
Vex knows everything that happened in Illithor.
The temple’s construction would have been overseen by him, Aquilan thought and blinked.
He hadn’t known that from the books he’d read on Vex, he didn’t think.
The few books his mother hadn’t been able to hide from him.
He just knew it to be true. It would be the height of irresponsibility to send Finley to a place where he didn’t know what to expect.
Yet he didn’t warn Finley about that trap.
That had Aquilan frowning. Finley was human, and though clearly brilliant, he was still a young man with no magic!
Except… was that true? Declan had told him that Vex had sent Finley to the Temple of the Necrilem because it contained magic that humans could wield.
Magic that was very different from Aquilan’s own.
Yet Finley wasn’t mentioning anything magical yet…
In fact, he seemed to be delaying speaking of that at all.
Surely, Finley would skip to the part where he found magical information or instruments, but no.
Finley was describing the whole thing beat for beat as if to draw out the story, to take up time.
Finley gave a theatrical shudder. “I didn’t want to find out! So I had to balance on the edge of this tiny ledge that ran around the outside of the temple’s wall. I nearly face-planted in the black goo several times, but managed to throw myself into the foyer of the temple at the very last minute.”
“Goodness! I hope you didn’t go from the frying pan into the fire by making it inside!” Vex laughed. “That’s a human expression. Did I use it correctly?”
“You used it perfectly! And I rather think I did!” Finley chuckled, but proudly and tossed his head. “Just wait until I tell you about the human looking skull that was designed into the mosaic of the floor!”
“Human? Ah, so the temple was waiting for you? Perhaps pre-ordained?” Vex appeared intrigued by this.
Finley shrugged, but there was a secret look of hope that it was true. “I’m not sure. Like I said, it was a skull and, for all I know, there are many creatures in the Under Dark that if you stripped away flesh and muscles, we’d all look the same.”
Aquilan frowned some more. Why was Finley describing the mosaic in the foyer? Again, it was interesting and maybe pertinent, but the magic… What about the magic? He glanced over at Rhalyf and Haera. What did they think of this discussion?
Both brother and sister were sitting very upright and very still with their hands in their laps as if they were school children awaiting detention.
Neither had said a word since they’d sat down at the table with Vex.
They were clearly listening to Finley’s story carefully, but weren’t reacting to it except in the most minor ways.
Rhalyf only broke into a smile when he caught Aquilan looking at him.
Haera grinned a second later. He smiled and nodded at both of them before they all went back to watching Vex and Finley.
But Aquilan’s unease had only grown from this interaction rather than lessened.
While he had no idea what the two of them were thinking about this story, they were clearly tense as bows.
Was it because of Vex? He was the Night King.
Almost all Aravae were told scary stories by their parents about the Kindreth and their dread King Xelroth Vex often ending with threats that if they weren’t good that the Night King would come and spirit them off to the Under Dark.
Perhaps they were both–understandably–nervous or frightened to be around him.
But that was not what he was taking in from their body language and expressions.
They were alert and watchful. Not afraid. Or maybe it was beyond fear. They were waiting for something to happen in order to make their getaway.
His eyes slid to Helgrom. The dwarf’s head was completely wreathed in fragrant tobacco smoke.
His amber eyes were hooded. He was staring at Vex and Finley intently, too.
He wasn’t smiling or chuckling at Finley’s very funny descriptions.
Was he afraid of Vex? No. He wasn’t intimidated by Vex either.
But was that normal? After all, as the Draesiwen heir to a kingdom that had been lost because of Vex shouldn’t Helgrom be… upset? Angry? Worried? Fearful?
There is no one in this room who is unfamiliar with Vex, Aquilan thought. But that can’t be…
Yet he was certain of it.
Aquilan’s sense of being charmed by Vex and Finley’s interaction faded abruptly.
Even though Finley was portraying what had happened in the Under Dark as a thrilling adventure and not a dark and dangerous mission, Aquilan found himself not believing that any longer.
Was Finley truly no worse for wear after what he had experienced in the temple?
Had nothing dark crawled into his soul despite entering a temple dedicated to death?
That was when he noticed the scar on Finley’s throat. It had not been there before they’d gone to the Under Dark. It looked old, but Aquilan was certain it was new. Finley’s right hand went up to it, nearly touched it, before dropping back down into his lap. It still hurt him.
What is going on here?
“... that’s when I heard the voices and…
Professor… lost him… so glad he’s with me,” Finley’s voice had fuzzed out just before he mentioned this “Professor”.
But that made no sense with what he’d just been saying and his tone was completely different.
Sad but determined instead of excited and disarming.
Aquilan shook his head, but instead of the noise issue clearing up–though how would it?
–he was now seeing double! There were two Finleys and two Vexes.
The first versions of them were continuing on with this light and airy discussion of the Temple of the Necrilem with Finley’s hands moving rapidly and Vex nodding, exclaiming and making other agreeable noises as the adventure story continued.
But then there was the second version.
A very different version.
In this second version, Finley and Vex were still facing each other, their knees nearly touching. Finley had out a book and a dagger on his lap. Where had those come from? They looked and smelled ancient. Old blood. Old pain. Old fear. Old death.
Each had a purple-tinged aura. He could see tendrils of magic reaching up from both and curling around Finley’s wrists, disappearing under the sleeves of his shirt. It was bound to the young man already. Or binding to him deeply.
Aquilan blinked rapidly. The first version of Finley and Vex kept trying to pop in over this second, but he narrowed his eyes and looked through that first version to focus on the second. The second version was the real one. He was certain of that.
Finley was talking, but clearly in a hushed and serious tone.
Far different than the first version. Also, instead of the easy, exaggerated movements of the first version, in the second, Finley was mostly staring down at the book and dagger before his eyes would flicker up to Vex’s face to see what the Night King’s reaction was.
For his part, Vex, instead of lounging back in his chair, was leaning forward as he stared down at the objects that Finley’s hands moved over with reverence.
Vex didn’t attempt to touch them, but his intelligence-filled eyes flickered over them, likely taking in more than what was on the outside.
He was nodding every once in a while and making soft assents to urge Finley on, but he wasn’t laughing or delighted at all. He was intense. Interested.
“I had to kill him, you know?” Finley’s voice, hushed and intent yet filled with the need for Vex to believe him, cut through Aquilan’s heart. “I mean he was already dead. Mostly. And he would have killed me, and if he’d gotten out so many others. So many. Wasteful. Unworthy.”