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PostPosted: April 21st, 2009, 6:21 pm 
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"Ale," said Phaerin, "and a pipe." He flicked her a grin.

His next breath triggered a twinge in his ribs. He winced. That flute melody was still winding through the curtains. He revoked this last facetiousness with a sigh and, "No. Only come and visit me? Tomorrow? Provided there is no catastrophe of grand proportions?"

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PostPosted: April 21st, 2009, 8:30 pm 
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"Even if there is a catastrophe, I shall at least visit long enough to apprise you of the situation," Silvryn assured him. Then, without her permission, her mind called up the ever-growing list of things that would need to be accomplished tomorrow.

"Tomorrow will be very busy," she added reluctantly. "There is no planned meeting with the council, but I will no doubt have to speak to at least a few of its members privately. Someone still needs to address the public and try to assuage any concerns before the atmosphere in the city grows any more volatile. Jate will likely be balancing study and political duties - I'd like to get him involved now, even if he is not yet king - and I need to speak to Dante about overseeing at least some of the diplomacy training. The Regent's financial records are a mess, no doubt intentionally, so we will have an interesting time of sorting through those. Then there's the matter of an impending attack by Raen..."

She stopped and forced herself to take a long, slow breath. "I will try to visit at least briefly," she amended. "I can promise that much. And perhaps I can persuade Master Cosin to send something more interesting than bread and water."

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PostPosted: April 23rd, 2009, 1:35 am 
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"Dark gods, I am glad not to be Jate," said Phaerin, shaking his head.

He turned an eye to her, letting his fingers twitch restlessly on the coverlet. "See, there's two things you need to remember," he said, holding up a finger. "One. Keep your ears pricked for homicidal elves, and if you see them, call the boy with the exploding rock. Because I don't care how terrifying Raen is, he'd better be nigh well indestructible to not be rattled by an exploding rock. Two!" Another finger. A pause. "I forget what two was. In any case," and he made a successful grab for her hand, adopting a longlost mien of exaggerated gallantry, "I will be quite content with bread and water if I may gaze upon, er, my Ladyship's visage. 'Tis nourishment in itself."

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PostPosted: April 23rd, 2009, 6:32 pm 
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In other circumstances, Silvryn might have reminded Phaerin of their discussion the night before, but she was tired and it was nearly impossible to reprimand him when he was staring up at her like that. She squeezed his hand. "I need to go," she said softly. "I promise to visit as much tomorrow as I am able."

Impulsively, she leaned over to kiss his forehead, then carefully extricated herself from his grasp. "Try to sleep." She managed a brief half-smile, then was gone.

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PostPosted: April 25th, 2009, 1:05 am 
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As Kjan and Jate came down the hall, Ash pushed himself off from the wall he had been leaning against and fell in step beside them. “I hope Stallos is better at doctoring than he is at diplomacy,” he said, glowering at the corridor ahead of him. “I’ve been trying to get back there to see the Phantom for the last ten minutes. Every time he stopped me and said it was already too crowded. The last time, he had a couple of servants practically throw me out. I told him I had important matters to discuss with the rest of you, but he ignored me. The man needs to learn some respect, if you ask me.”

He nodded once, emphatically. Then, having vented some of his pent-up frustration, Ash asked, “So, how is he?”


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PostPosted: April 25th, 2009, 1:00 pm 
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If Kjan was surprised by Ash randomly appearing out of nowhere, then he did a good job of hiding it. "He's doing alright," he replied casually. "Awake and conversing, which seems to please Stallos for the moment. I give it two more days before he starts looking for ways to make him shut up. You ought to be able to visit tomorrow, provided it's at a 'reasonable hour.' Phae would no doubt be glad of the company. Is there any legitimate 'important matter' that needs to be discussed before then, or was that just a convenient excuse to get in?"

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PostPosted: April 26th, 2009, 12:49 am 
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"Convenient excuse." Ash grinned sheepishly. "Well, there was the matter of seeing if th- if Phaerin was alive, but I should have known a little thing like falling off a roof wouldn't stop him."


Phaerin. The name sounded strange. Before Ash had joined the rebels, he had heard rumors and stories about a shadowy figure known as the Phantom. Women chattered eagerly about the mysterious person and his latest adventures. Young men ran off in the middle of the night to join his cause. Now, suddenly, the Phantom was beginning to vanish, replaced by a real, flesh-and-blood man who went by Phaerin Grey. It was going to take some getting used to.


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PostPosted: April 27th, 2009, 6:37 pm 
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When Phaerin woke up, the flute had stopped, and pearly light was inching its way around the curtains and into his eyes. Except for a line of grey-white where one fold of dark cloth was not pulled to, the room was dim.

He yawned and pulled at the blanket and shut his eyes again.

It could have been a minute or an hour later that something dripping wet and cold poked him. He brushed it off.

"Are you awake? I gotta talk to you." It began again.

He wasn't wearing a shirt and whatever was attempting to drive away his slumber was wet and cold against his skin and Phaerin grunted and said, "No."

It was only at this point that his dozy synapses began firing.

He yelped and gave an ungracefully convulsive jerk that almost tipped him, blanket and all, onto the floor. That would have been painful. Shielding his eyes against the brighter grey-white glow - it seemed a very moist one, now - he squinted up at a bizarre spiky silhouette.

It spoke. "You're Phantom Grey, right?"

"Not really," said Phaerin. "Leave me alone."

Whoever it was pushed the curtain back the whole way and grey light shot through with rain assaulted Phaerin's eyes. The spiky silhouette took on eyes and a disordered shock of pale hair. "What do you mean, 'not really'?" it demanded.

"I will ask the questions," said Phaerin. "Who are you and why are you in my bedroom?"

"Filyk. I already told you. I need to talk to you." The silhouette perched on the edge of the bed and became a boy, fourteen or fifteen, so lanky he looked stretched, and incessantly twirling a silver flute between his fingers.

"Right now?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. Phaerin was beginning to wonder if whatever Stallos had given him to deaden the pain was giving him delusions. "Right," he said, sliding himself with jerky care into a half-sitting position against the headboard. "About what?"

"Well, you're Phantom Grey." Phaerin hadn't admitted it but he didn't deny it. "Some of us in the city were afraid you were dead."

"Nope. Too stubborn."

There was a cautious laugh from the end of the bed. "Right," said the boy. Filyk. "So what do you want us to do, then?"

Phaerin didn't understand. He said so.

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PostPosted: April 28th, 2009, 8:51 pm 
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Kjan paused outside the door to Phaerin's room, surprised to hear voices coming from within. He hadn't expected anyone else to be visiting this early. He hadn't been expecting himself to be visiting this early, for that matter. After having the chance to mostly recover from the exhaustion of their recent ordeal, his body seemed to have fallen back into the habit of waking with first light. It was an unfortunate side effect of spending the past month traveling out of doors. He'd resisted at first, then finally resigned himself to an early start and gone to forage in the kitchens. He was fairly certain it was some breach of protocol, judging by the looks he'd received, but he hadn't been inclined to wait to be served breakfast.

He paused to listen again, wary but not overly concerned. The voice was unfamiliar, but it didn't sound like trouble. Balancing the warm plate in one hand, he eased the door open and discovered a gangly youth perched at the foot of Phaerin's bed. Odd.

"I'd have brought more if I knew you were expecting company," he said, indicating the plate of food. He pulled over the small table to set the plate on, then produced a flask from his coat pocket. "I went to a lot of trouble to filch this, and I'm already in trouble with Stallos, so make sure you don't get caught with it. Who's your friend?"

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PostPosted: April 28th, 2009, 11:53 pm 
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Said gangly youth spent an instant in the air between bed and balcony, flute a blur of silver, before Phaerin had blinked twice and made an inarticulate noise meant to be interpreted as soothing. It was more the boy's own curiousity than anything Phaerin did that made Filyk stop to peer over his shoulder. He tilted his head, squinting.

Suddenly a grin unfolded across his spare face and the instinct for flight disappeared. "Are you Kjan?" he said.

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PostPosted: April 29th, 2009, 12:01 am 
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Kjan blinked, considered asking how the boy had come across his name and why it was a source of amusement, and decided he didn't really care. "Yeah."

He glanced over at Phaerin inquiringly. What's he doing here?

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PostPosted: April 29th, 2009, 7:04 pm 
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Phaerin didn't need the blessed little flask to be intoxicated, not now, but he took it and bounced it on his palm. "Well," he said, "this is Filyk, and he says - what do you call yourselves again?"

"Spooks," said Filyk, not bothering to disguise his interest in the tray of food.

Phaerin flipped him a roll. "Yes, and Kjan, that's only the younger ones," he added. "He says there's a whole society! In the city! They have people from all over - every profession. Since the very beginning of the rebellion, they've been here! If I had only known!" For a moment he gloried in the new knowledge. "All supporters. Of Phantom Grey."

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PostPosted: April 29th, 2009, 8:02 pm 
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"Supporters are good," Kjan said, nodding slowly. "Especially given our recent decline in numbers." Families would no doubt start cautiously making their way toward Y'rydha once they heard of the Regent's death. They were going to have to explain what had happened, offer condolences, find ways of supporting those left behind...

He looked over at the boy. "Presumably, you're not in charge. Is there a leader we might be able to speak to?"

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PostPosted: April 29th, 2009, 9:08 pm 
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Filyk bobbed his head enthusiastically, tossed a last bite of roll in the air, and caught it in his mouth. "Aye," he said, and again made no effort to check the creeping grin. "She says you're welcome for a visit."

Phaerin groaned and pounded on the mattress with a fist. "And I can't go," he said. "Kjan, you should take the others - Ash, at least - and then come back and tell me. Everything."

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PostPosted: April 29th, 2009, 10:59 pm 
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Kjan wasn't ever keen on the idea of being in charge of communication, but it couldn't exactly be helped. Phaerin was in no condition to go anywhere, and Kjan doubted Stallos would be the only one displeased if a group of self-proclaimed rebels tried to gather right there in the palace. Hopefully they could keep it brief for right now, and then in a week or two Phaerin would be able to take over.

"I can take Ash, and Dante if he wants," he said after a moment of consideration. "I think Silvryn has plans for Jate already, and Eledhe's only good in negotiations if you need to scare somebody. Anything in particular I should try to find out?"

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PostPosted: May 1st, 2009, 2:25 pm 
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Phaerin pursed his lips. "Everything they'll tell you," he said, abandoning consideration. "I want to know how we can work together, what their plans are, and where they have people. Everything."

Filyk was fidgeting by the curtained balcony. "Hurry up," he said, the flute making a blurred circle of silver arcs where it spun between his fingers.

Phaerin waved him off. "Meet them by the front gate." He thought. "Ten minutes."

He grinned, ruefully, at Kjan. "Have fun."

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