And now we get to hear from one of the good guys! Yay! Since I haven't fully revealed how the Arquenia Saga calendar works (I plan on doing that soon, as well as drawing up a nice map), suffice to say that it has basically been six months since we last left the Xavier Team in Book II... Which means a lot has happened "off-screen" so to speak...
Part LXXIV: Interrogation
Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.
The boy and the girl talked softly as they marched with the rest of the slaves back, eyes darting from side to side as they scanned the people around them, pretending that they had done this forever—that they were used to the life of constant tending of the immense fields and vineyards that provided the food and drink for the luxorious elves. They wore their cloaks high, hiding their faces as much as they could underneath their hoods. As they came to the large apartment complexes, segregated by the different races represented, the group split in several directions, according to the different races represented, each moving through different doors as the elven guards there checked to make sure that each one was authorized.
Moving through the doors, the two humans moved quickly, racing to be the first to the elevators. Getting in the first car up, they waited as it moved up through the floors before getting to floor #19, the only ones to get off at that floor. The moment the doors closed they moved fast, and the boy pressed a button hidden under his watch, glancing back at one of the security cameras as, after a moment’s hesitation, it moved to face the blank wall. Running down the hall, they quickly came to a room number. The boy quickly unlocked the door before the two slipped in, locking it behind them, before they moved into the bathroom, shutting the door in front of them as they waited.
“He had better have been ready for our signal,” the girl whispered. “If he-”
“He’s trained,” the boy hissed. “He’s done this forever. He’ll have gotten the signal to shut off the security.” Footsteps were heard outside and both of them were silent as they heard the key twisting in the door. The door opened, and the footsteps came in. They heard the door shut as the person beyond walked further into the room. Now.
The boy quickly opened the door and stepped out, the girl following. Suddenly aware of the other people in the room, the older man who had entered spun around, his scarred face contorting as he opened his mouth to scream.
“Shhh.” The boy lunged forward, clamping his hand on the man’s mouth as the man struggled for a few minutes and then stopped, his eyes bulging.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” the girl said in a quiet compassionate voice. “We just want to talk with you. The security’s off, so they won’t know about this. You’re free to talk.” The boy slowly took his hand off of the man’s mouth.
“What do you want?” the man spat.
“Your name is Hagion, right?” the girl asked, her soft eyes gazing up into him. But he scorned her gaze.
“What’s it to you?”
“My name’s Astrid, and this is my brother Monty,” the girl said, undoing her hood to let it slip off her head. “We’re part of the Resistance.”
“The Resistance?” Hagion had a disgusted look on his face. “And what makes you think I won’t report you.”
“We’ve done our research,” Monty said earnestly, his head now uncovered. “You were a key general during the War against the Sla’ad were you not?”
“What of it?” Hagion snapped, taking off his cloak. “Why are you here?”
“We’re looking for this object.” Monty pulled a picture out of his pocket of a golden rezquiert—a long glowing whip that was a primary Sla’ad weapon.
“I’ve seen many a rezquiert, but never a gold one,” Hagion said. “I don’t recognize it. You can go now.”
“It was known as the Arglem,” Monty said softly.
A spark seemed to go off in Hagion’s eyes. “The Arglem?” And then he shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.” He began untying his shoes.
Monty gave a growl of annoyance, but Astrid spoke first. “We’re not elven spies,” she said softly. “We work for the Resistance and are getting closer to overthrowing Jaigran. Your information could help us dearly in winning back this fight. You were part of the entry group into the Sla’ad capitol. Surely you at least heard of the Sla’ad’s fabled weapon.”
“Sorry,” Hagion said, his scars contorting as he shrugged, kicking off his other shoe. “I haven’t heard of it.” He took off his shirt as he sat down on his bed, revealing the numerous scars on his stomach. The white hairs on his chest moved as he stared up at them. “You ought to leave.”
“You’ve surely heard of it,” Monty snapped. “What’s in it for you? I suppose there’s no need for you to turn around. It’s already obvious that you have many scars on your back from the elven whips. Why are you resisting us?”
“I have no need for this conversation,” the man said hoarsely, turning as he hung up his shirt, revealing the scars that Monty predicted would be on his back. He turned back to face them as he shook his head, his bitter eyes staring at them. “You will gain no help from here. Just leave.”
“But-”
“Look, it was the one Sla’ad treasure we never found, alright?” Hagion snapped. “The Sla’ad took it somewhere else for safekeeping and we never found it, except for snatches of some Keystone Chamber where it might have been hid. Now go!”
“But-“
“It’s too late for you anyways so I might as well say,” Hagion said. “Your cover was blown. I was supposed to stall you until they caught you.”
“What?!” Astrid shrieked. “But you—why?”
“I had no other choice,” Hagion whispered. “I’m sorry.” There was a loud noise at the door. “Now go!” Hagion yelled.
Monty ran to the window. “Move, Astrid!”
Astrid ran after him as Monty threw himself out the window. Astrid took one look, and then in a split-second decision, wrapped her arms around a surprised Hagion as the door behind them exploded. And then she threw themselves out the window after Monty.
Question of the Day: Who is Hagion and what is a quick backstory of him?
Part LXXIV: Interrogation
Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.
The boy and the girl talked softly as they marched with the rest of the slaves back, eyes darting from side to side as they scanned the people around them, pretending that they had done this forever—that they were used to the life of constant tending of the immense fields and vineyards that provided the food and drink for the luxorious elves. They wore their cloaks high, hiding their faces as much as they could underneath their hoods. As they came to the large apartment complexes, segregated by the different races represented, the group split in several directions, according to the different races represented, each moving through different doors as the elven guards there checked to make sure that each one was authorized.
Moving through the doors, the two humans moved quickly, racing to be the first to the elevators. Getting in the first car up, they waited as it moved up through the floors before getting to floor #19, the only ones to get off at that floor. The moment the doors closed they moved fast, and the boy pressed a button hidden under his watch, glancing back at one of the security cameras as, after a moment’s hesitation, it moved to face the blank wall. Running down the hall, they quickly came to a room number. The boy quickly unlocked the door before the two slipped in, locking it behind them, before they moved into the bathroom, shutting the door in front of them as they waited.
“He had better have been ready for our signal,” the girl whispered. “If he-”
“He’s trained,” the boy hissed. “He’s done this forever. He’ll have gotten the signal to shut off the security.” Footsteps were heard outside and both of them were silent as they heard the key twisting in the door. The door opened, and the footsteps came in. They heard the door shut as the person beyond walked further into the room. Now.
The boy quickly opened the door and stepped out, the girl following. Suddenly aware of the other people in the room, the older man who had entered spun around, his scarred face contorting as he opened his mouth to scream.
“Shhh.” The boy lunged forward, clamping his hand on the man’s mouth as the man struggled for a few minutes and then stopped, his eyes bulging.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” the girl said in a quiet compassionate voice. “We just want to talk with you. The security’s off, so they won’t know about this. You’re free to talk.” The boy slowly took his hand off of the man’s mouth.
“What do you want?” the man spat.
“Your name is Hagion, right?” the girl asked, her soft eyes gazing up into him. But he scorned her gaze.
“What’s it to you?”
“My name’s Astrid, and this is my brother Monty,” the girl said, undoing her hood to let it slip off her head. “We’re part of the Resistance.”
“The Resistance?” Hagion had a disgusted look on his face. “And what makes you think I won’t report you.”
“We’ve done our research,” Monty said earnestly, his head now uncovered. “You were a key general during the War against the Sla’ad were you not?”
“What of it?” Hagion snapped, taking off his cloak. “Why are you here?”
“We’re looking for this object.” Monty pulled a picture out of his pocket of a golden rezquiert—a long glowing whip that was a primary Sla’ad weapon.
“I’ve seen many a rezquiert, but never a gold one,” Hagion said. “I don’t recognize it. You can go now.”
“It was known as the Arglem,” Monty said softly.
A spark seemed to go off in Hagion’s eyes. “The Arglem?” And then he shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.” He began untying his shoes.
Monty gave a growl of annoyance, but Astrid spoke first. “We’re not elven spies,” she said softly. “We work for the Resistance and are getting closer to overthrowing Jaigran. Your information could help us dearly in winning back this fight. You were part of the entry group into the Sla’ad capitol. Surely you at least heard of the Sla’ad’s fabled weapon.”
“Sorry,” Hagion said, his scars contorting as he shrugged, kicking off his other shoe. “I haven’t heard of it.” He took off his shirt as he sat down on his bed, revealing the numerous scars on his stomach. The white hairs on his chest moved as he stared up at them. “You ought to leave.”
“You’ve surely heard of it,” Monty snapped. “What’s in it for you? I suppose there’s no need for you to turn around. It’s already obvious that you have many scars on your back from the elven whips. Why are you resisting us?”
“I have no need for this conversation,” the man said hoarsely, turning as he hung up his shirt, revealing the scars that Monty predicted would be on his back. He turned back to face them as he shook his head, his bitter eyes staring at them. “You will gain no help from here. Just leave.”
“But-”
“Look, it was the one Sla’ad treasure we never found, alright?” Hagion snapped. “The Sla’ad took it somewhere else for safekeeping and we never found it, except for snatches of some Keystone Chamber where it might have been hid. Now go!”
“But-“
“It’s too late for you anyways so I might as well say,” Hagion said. “Your cover was blown. I was supposed to stall you until they caught you.”
“What?!” Astrid shrieked. “But you—why?”
“I had no other choice,” Hagion whispered. “I’m sorry.” There was a loud noise at the door. “Now go!” Hagion yelled.
Monty ran to the window. “Move, Astrid!”
Astrid ran after him as Monty threw himself out the window. Astrid took one look, and then in a split-second decision, wrapped her arms around a surprised Hagion as the door behind them exploded. And then she threw themselves out the window after Monty.
Question of the Day: Who is Hagion and what is a quick backstory of him?
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