The Shadow and The Huntress

You speak words you do not understand. The Huntress stared at the girl. It wasn't as if she had a better way to describe her than she already had. It seemed to The Huntress that the meaning had gone over the girl's head. And to that, she did not find surprise. Their deaths are your own.

She went on staring at the... guest. Unable to shake the feeling of trouble. But it was not in her purview to act. Not yet. Not unless something actually happened. Someone was actually threatened or, worse yet, injured. And, thus-far, only her own emotions had been... injured. And that was of no consequence to the grand scheme of things.

The Huntress felt an urge to scoff at the platitudes being served to Faelyn, but remained impassive and stoic. She said nothing further. Made no further moves, simply eyeing her with suspicion for what game such a dangerous bas could be playing at. She'd allow Faelyn the choice of what to do, as he was the one the words had all been directed to. The Huntress, for herself, felt she was likely an afterthought on the matter.

Faelyn's bearing was one made of steel, a strong, tempered thing in the heat of his own fire, and the fire of others long, long ago. He knew very well what Avorra was, what her purpose her words served; And if the weight of an unafflicted gaze as it settled upon her was anything to go by, he saw through it all. He was cutting and precise, and while he himself allowed next to no one within the walls of his emotion and his mind, centuries of careful study of others and their mannerisms might as well have opened this woman, this child, like a book to him. 

But still, she had done exactly what he had asked of her. And he hated it. 

You have brought yourself to another crossroads, lost little duck. If you can continue to place nicely with the others, you will be allowed to remain within my halls. You will be granted the knowledge within as that is my job. And when you are done, you will be escorted from Arlathan to seek your shelter elsewhere. If you choose to remain within our home beyond such escorting, I will deliver you to the council myself with no hesitation. And if you, or your false god, deign to lift a finger of harm to anyone within my city, or my repository, I will make you wish for something quite so sweet as my flame. Do we understand each other? There was no move made to walk towards her, no getting on her level. His words were not a threat, and did not need to be driven home as such. 

They were a promise.

Avorra considered the Archivist's words carefully. Empty threats masked with fickle diplomacy.  While she certainly didn't appreciate the veiled ultimatum, she was in no position to argue. After all, she got what she had initially wanted - access to the archives. She was one step closer to finding that shard, and hopefully putting an end to Zazikel's nagging. You would do well to mind your thoughts, girl. Zazikel silently chimed in her head.

We have an understanding, grand Archivist. The bootlicking made her stomach churn, but the cordiality was necessary. I humbly thank you for your hospitality, Faelyn Korath. If do you not mind the extra guidance, is there any particular section that comes to mind for where I should begin my research? Avorra asked with the flash of a half-genuine smile.

Everything said, all things agreed upon... it seemed The Huntress was no longer needed. Her presence far more likely to agitate matters than aid anything. So, much to her chagrin, the decision needed to be made.

Leaning close to Faelyn, she whispered in his ear. I'm taking my leave, but I will linger outside. Should you need me, call.

Without even waiting for a response, or a glance back to either party she left behind, The Huntress made her swift and silent exit.

A small nod was what was given to the Huntress as she stepped away, and there was no doubt in his mind that she would be the very first to answer his call should his voice ring out. If it ever even came to that point. For all the world that he was a careful and controlled thing, a firestorm has a tendency to burn all within its path, and his was with very few exceptions; none of whom stood within the walls of his repository that day. 

Faelyn knew precisely where the knowledge she sought was, but that was not a satisfaction that he would give her that day. No, this work would be done on her own, and it would likely be days that she spent within his halls learning this little lesson of his. No, I do not. Though I will expect that you treat my tomes and artifacts with gentle fingers and replace them exactly where you found them. Go about your business and I will not be far behind.