Who: Peony & Guy What: Following up Where: Seven Cups When: Today Rating: Tame Status: Complete!
Although things in the city had quieted somewhat recently, Peony had not relaxed in her vigilance, nor had she stepped back from her investigation of the events that had occurred throughout Sagittarius. With Siana seemingly vanished into thin air (another worry, and a case she could not help but keep an eye on; the last time disappearances had started, it had not ended well), Jareth had still provided her with some information which, combined with what Toku had brought her courtesy of Hippolyta, had her very concerned. The young man who had most likely brought illness -- and then destruction -- to their city interested her very much.
It was unfortunate that he was dead.
Still, there was one source of information she had not yet fully explored. Her contacts in the Rangers were somewhat minimal, but fortunately, she had other ways of collecting information on the Outlands, and her best source had, in a roundabout way, kept many in the city alive with his timely sharing of knowledge the last time she had questioned him.
And so she had set a meeting, choosing the teahouse in late morning for a quiet and relaxed atmosphere. A pot of floral tea -- rosehips, today -- sat on the table as she waited for Guy to join her.
He didn’t set about to be late with his appointments with Councilor Min, but Guy came rushing fleet-footed into the familiar tea shop all the same. The synergist bound between customers like a bolt of energy--nothing unusual there, and he was easy to spot amongst the other patrons (who seemed to share in part with Peony’s more appropriate sense of outward calm).
“Good morning to you, Councilor!” He already had his jacket in his hands, and came shuffling around to the table looking cheery as usual. Things seemed much closer to normal, he thought. Guy had grown accustomed to certain duties over the course of his career within the guild, and this was amongst the most favorable.
“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long?” Just like usual, he set his ledger down for her to inspect, along with its usual contents of observations and reports from the outlands. After the strangeness and excitement of the exam, he had welcomed going back to his usual work with the Rangers (now there was a team structure he knew how to function in).
“Good morning,” she responded before topping off her cup and assuring, “I have not waited long at all. Please, help yourself. I trust you are well?” she asked. He appeared in good health and humor today, but one could never know.
She slid the ledger towards herself, noting that it appeared full, as usual. She thought of the detailed portrait she had offered several weeks ago to anyone who might bring her knowledge of a dead man whom few seemed to have known. She hoped to find further information on him here. “If you would be so kind to provide me with the highlights before I peruse it?” she asked.
“I’m doing very well, I’ll admit,” Guy answered, easing hismelf into the seat opposite the Councilor. “And I hope you can say the same.” He poured himself a cup of the aromatic tea with his usual energetic flourish, and seemed by all appearances as in good health and spirits as he claimed. The heat of the small tea cup did well to warm his chilled hands, as he’d gone rushing to this appointment without finding an adequate pair of gloves along the way.
As for the matter of the reports, Guy let his eyes roam over the usual stack of papers and recalled all that he’d seen and heard on his last outing. Fortunately enough for everyone, nothing too dire or suspicious had occurred along his trip--certainly nothing as equal to the troubles with the sickness, as well as everything that had followed. “Seasonal shifts in monster sightings,” he said, “but thankfully no entites, which means the weather isn’t as severe as some have claimed!” He himself had no desire to come into contact with those particular nasty creatures, especially out in the middle of nowhere. “A few small crimes in the villages, but nothing outstanding either.”
She did not mention the slight scratchiness of her throat -- par for the course this time of year -- and only said, “All is as it should be with me, as well.” The tea and rest would soothe her well enough.
She listened to his descriptions, relieved that there were no new overt threats converging on Emillion externally, though she knew better than to assume this meant all troubles were past. “Let us hope it remains that way.” Entites were not a city problem most times, but they were troublesome in the wilderness, and dispatching them without magic was extraordinarily difficult. “I would be content to see the spring begin soon,” she admitted.
She flipped open the file now, skimming through its contents. “Did you find any word -- or trace -- of the young man I asked after?” she inquired. She was hoping to have her suspicions either confirmed or denied here, so that she might better know where to address her search next.
Guy, taking a sip of his tea, had set his cup back on the table at mention of the mysterious young man in question--the one who had brought so much calamity to the city. It remained a grave concern for everyone, the mages, the Bureau, and even himself. He had done his best to backtrack through a path he had estimated the man might’ve traveled, working on known cases of the strange illnesses, sightings that had fit a semblance of the man’s description, and every bit of information that had not been put to waste by time and changing of the seasons.
It had been a difficult trial, and frustrating (though he wouldn’t admit as much here), but the synergist hadn’t turned up empty-handed. Guy ran a hand absently through his hair and began to relay what answers he could. “Well now,” he said in a more sober tone, “there wasn’t as much as I would’ve liked, admittedly, but there was some information still about.”
He tapped his cup with his fingers. “He’d been moving toward the city for some time, likely living off what wages he’d earned through each community, just enough to get from one village to the next. A man matching his description had been noted in a few of the travelers’ inns, I’d say, and he sometimes called himself Willem, or Will.” He paused to take a drink, and Guy did his best not to frown or appear ill at ease in front of the Councilor. “He seemed devout, a few have said, but to Faram or whomever we can’t be sure. Asking about the city and its contents seemed to be the usual conversation, but never one thing or place in particular.”
He gestured toward the reports with a twitch. “There’s the interviews, or what I could gather.”
Peony made a mental note to give these papers her particular attention when she returned to her office with the ledger. “That is a name the Knights of the Peace brought to me, as well.” And this information seemed in many ways to match theirs. A young man known by none, polite and inquisitive. Devout -- his portrait had been recognized around the Cathedral.
“To Faram or whomever,” she repeated, musing. There were other faiths, sure enough, but the Outlands especially had deep Pharist roots, unlike the more diverse cities. She had taken to looking at ancient religious texts, led on a logical path by some of the information she had been given; she was still not certain what, exactly, she had found that could be of use. “He was seen around the Cathedral often, once he arrived in the city,” she said. And the illness had started there -- it was further proof, in her mind. “It was said he attended services and asked questions that sometimes indicated some ignorance. He did the same in the villages, then?”
“From the word of those who seemed to have talked to him the most,” Guy said, “I’d say you’re right, Councilor. If he was a foreigner, he may have ascribed himself to some sort of divergent religion, I’d suppose.” It was a deduction, but not an unreasonable one given the information offered in his reports.
What this all meant about the man in question and his motivations, however, seemed to the synergist as far more difficult to guess at. “I hope the council finds the information useful,” he added, picking up his cup of tea again before it grew tepid.
“Yes,” she assured, “very.” It had been the confirmation she’d needed most of all. She wished, not for the first time, that someone, anyone, had had the opportunity to speak with the woman from the Tenements.
There would be another, almost certainly. Would they recognize him or her in time to prevent another catastrophe? Only time would tell, but she felt personally responsible for ensuring their preparedness. “I do not suppose a wariness for strangers has developed out of these events?” She doubted it -- small settlements were usually welcoming, and a good strong back and willing hands unlikely to be turned away.
“Well now, nothing too significant from what I’ve seen.” Guy sank back in his seat for a moment, shuffling his feet on the floor--never quite still, and the more he thought on a matter, the more it seemed to keep him mobile. Every different village and farmer seemed to have their own theory about the mysterious illness, for information and opinion differed greatly from place to place--never flowing as freely as it did in the city. “But it might be for the best,” he offered, “for them not to think it was all the work of some wild mage on the loose.”
“You are certainly correct about that,” Peony said. “It is best for all parties if life goes on much as it has been.” And they -- the defenders of Emillion and its environs -- would be tasked with ensuring that this remained possible. “Still,” she added after a moment, “if there is once more talk of an odd stranger and you happen to hear it, I would appreciate it if you let me know.” She closed the ledger, saying, “I will review these in detail upon my return to my office. Thank you again for your hard work.”
She busied herself then with refilling both cups, ensuring the tea was once again hot before she did so. “Now,” she said, “might there be anything I can do to assist you?”
Guy offered a chipper thank you in return for his second cup of hot tea, and he shifted in his seat again upon the change in conversation. The chill of the outdoors had dissipated now, and he had begun to settle in. “I don’t need much at all,” he said, looking humble. “But while I’m still about in the city, I wouldn’t mind hearing your opinion on a few matters!” Taking a sip of his tea, the synergist began to offer Peony some of what had been on his mind of late, in hopes of collecting some useful morsels of information himself.