A name Reed was grateful he would never have to hear again, but his inability to control those who know of him has made this talk quite inevitable.
Looking down on Reed; Penburn and Rhewl both expressed wonder. A seed of curiosity grew once Rhewl asked Reed about the name.
"What was the name that Profaner called you, Reed?" Rhewl said before turning his attention to Penburn, who was in deep thought.
Reed was nowhere to express resistance, he was in no position to decline answers. In these people's quest to save him, he had no choice but to tell them.
"I've no relations with Shraff Toma," Reed said, knowing all too well the hate that exuded from anyone who heard the name.
"But your name?" Penburn said, his frows burrowing in fury.
"I don't consider that man my father, between us," Reed said, tired of explaining himself like he used to back in Ashlett, "the apple falls the furthest from the tree."
Shraff Toma, a name Reed, would hear often as a kid, and from then on even more since the incident his father had taken up.
Ignoring the gazes from both men in front of him, Reed thought back to a memory he'd hoped he had forgotten, yet it stayed dormant and silent.
Faithless, a monarchy that was given to Shraff, his father, after abstaining his loyalty to Vastilence and joining the kingdoms. Of course, Reed had not known of them until a few days prior, but even then, the memory had stained him, and for the longest time, he hadn't the slightest reason as to why.
In this moment, in this second, Reed now fully realized the image his father had made of himself, he had ignored him for abandoning him, Shraff was not something lightly removed from Reed's mind in the aspect of a day or second, his entire life had been forcing that man out for abandoning his son. And so he did, just for it to return at the utterance of his name, at the breath of that Profaner.
"Reed," Penburn said, "you told me you knew nothing of the kingdoms except for when you first arrived in Dromair, so how could you have known of Shraff?"
"I tried like hell to forget about him, but his damn face kept creeping back in. He bailed on me when I was just a kid, taking my three brothers along so that I had literally forgotten their faces. Not a single damn clue where they ended up or what happened to them - just knowing we share the same rotten blood. But not one person had the courtesy to level with me about some kingdom bullshit. Nope, they just gave me those sideways looks, letting me twist in the wind. Now the cat's out of the bag, and I'm supposed to keep forgetting."
Reed stood up, frustrated by everything now. He gritted his teeth and started breathing heavily. His heart felt something, but he remembered his heart was not there. He felt that too, that dark hollowness, and it was just an amalgamation of twisted anger and confusion.
"When you told me of those kingdom bastards," Reed continued, now seething fury growing from an instance, "you told me of the things they'd done, and you proved my memory of that white armored bitch that took the last breaths of Linette with her. I will not forget that, but for my father, he can fuck off in the kingdoms for all I care. Those Mor'Nairians are all I care about."
Penburn nodded. There was full truth in Reed's words and emotion. Penburn had no reason to doubt any of it, and it showed.
"You're right, although I think you should learn of your fath-" Penburn stopped, resisting the unintentional urge to say 'father'. "Shraff, he's a stained figure, and I assure you that knowing him might give you some closure."
Reed walked around a bit, looking up and deciding if he cared enough to know, but it couldn't hurt, he thought.
"Tell me already."
Penburn approached him and looked up, gazing at the point Reed stared at.
"The Black Caravan," Penburn began. "A while back, around twenty years ago, a black caravan traveled across Vastilence and retrieved around forty medallions during their four-year scourge. These were known as the Gavender Scourge Merchants. Devil work was done cleanly by Gavender men, those belonging to the southern kingdom. Of course, they saw potential in those who joined their ranks. They recruited people for their kingdom. Except not, but two known names have delved into their ranks. Arturo Cain and Shraff Toma."
Reed heard him speak and thought about how disgusted he was at what monsters like them do, knowing those innocent are dying at the ends of their feet.
"With Gavender's success in acquiring that many medallions, Mor'Nair began doing the same, and sent out their black armored scourge merchants." Rhewl continued for Penburn.
"You said black armor?" Reed asked, "Penburn?"
Penburn had a look of recognition before Reed spoke again.
"One of the Mor'Nairian knights who took my medallion had a black armored man with them. Could this be one of those scourge merchants you spoke of?"
Penburn nodded and began tapping his metal eye.
"Possibly, although I don't understand why their focus was a Xalidus and not a medallion. Based on what you told me, Reed, your medallion was just a bonus to them?"
Reed nodded.
"Dusted hells," Penburn said, annoyed. "Too many damned questions and not enough answers. Alright, that's it." He said.
Rhewl knew that look and he grew a little worried.
"Reed," Penburn said, "originally, we were supposed to leave for Mor'Nair by a month from when you showed up, but things will need to progress quicker."
"You can't be serious, Penburn?" Rhewl exclaimed. "I don't think we are ready just yet. We just need time to find Zemizel's maps."
"No, we've spent two months searching and we're not going to waste another one," Penburn replied. "Reed is being severely over-questioned. Zemizel isn't improving, and we have the son of the most disgraced man in all of Vastilence in our Concealment."
"A-" Rhewl tried to say something before Penburn's long finger covered his mouth.
"We move tomorrow. Let's go."
Penburn climbed the ladder and ushered for both Reed and Rhewl to follow.
Giving a knock, Penburn waited as Furnella opened the door, climbing up. She was there alone, holding a book in one arm and the other holding up the trapdoor.
"Unusual noise down there?" She said, looking at Reed's slight winces of pain as he climbed up and threw himself down at one of the chairs.
"Nella," Penburn said, "Inform Tainch and Maddis that they are heading to Mor'Nair tomorrow with Reed."
Before Furnella could say a word, Rhewl held her shoulder, letting her know it was done.
Penburn tossed the key to the infirmary over to Reed and told him to use it for the night. Before leaving, he let everyone know they were to meet there in the morning.
By now it was dark and Rhewl left not long after Penburn until it was just Furnella and Reed.
Reed walked ahead before Furnella caught up to him.
"I can walk you to the infirmary." She said.
"Yeah, sure."
Penburn's sister was just leaving as they left, heading off in a different direction.
The night was colder, but refreshing. It was a peaceful sight with quiet and calm streets. The only sound that was heard was both of their breathing along with their footsteps as they walked a good amount without speaking.
Reed had nothing to say. His mind was flooded, leaving him with nothing to say.
"I hope everything works well, you know," Furnella spoke out, breaking the silence and filling it in with her voice. "With you, I know you're having a difficult time, and I hope you find what you're looking for, Reed."
Reed was dumbfounded at the difference this woman had made in herself. She spoke differently to the annoying Furnella he knew a few hours ago.
"I appreciate that," he told her, "although I don't know if I should believe such heartfelt words coming from someone who'd mock my name?" He said to her with a raised brow.
"Oh, shut it." She blurted, her real self coming back. "Can I not be kind at times?"
"No, no, that isn't what I meant," Reed carefully chose his words. "I... enjoy some calm and kindness," he drawled, looking at his feet with each step he took, his arms locked behind him.
"I..." He continued slowly, "I need some kind words from time to time. I think we all do. It helps us contain ourselves, I guess, our sanity."
"I hadn't taken you for the beautifully chosen speaker." Furnella teased, before going quiet, thinking about something.
"Why are you part of the Hardly Hearts Furnella?" Reed blurted out, but it was quiet for a few more moments before she could answer.
"Zemizel helped." She muttered, but Reed had not interrupted to ask and let her take her time.
"My older sister was the only one I had growing up. I guess those of us doing stuff like this don't have much going on in the familial sense." She laughed it off, trying to ease the topic before continuing.
"My sister, Zayda, she wasn't the strongest. She was an orphan before I was born, and by the time I grew up to understand things, my parents got themselves into an unpleasant business. And they destroyed themselves. That was when Zayda took care of me, but I knew she wouldn't last long. I guess Zemizel took notice of me and cared enough to ask and eventually, by the time he noticed me and my sister, it was too late. She died of frailness, and the only courtesy he could give her dying breath was a clean burial."
"Zemizel sounds like a good person," Reed said.
"He is. He cared for a nobody like us. Zemizel was different, but unfortunately, he faded, too. But I know Penburn. I know he'll do anything to bring him back."
She said nothing after that for a while and Reed didn't want to say anything until he knew it was the right time.
"Both of you," he said, "you both admire Zemizel. I guess I understand your care for the man. I'd love to meet him one day and talk with him."
Furnella smiled and continued in silence for another moment.
"Listen, Reed," she began, "I know you're strong. I mean, you made it here from a grave. Please succeed. I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to either Tainch or Maddis."
"I understand," he said. "We're alike in that way."
For but a moment, Reed felt something warm in his chest, but it felt different, familiar yet foreign. He was happy; he felt glad he was talking to Furnella; she spoke to him openly, and he enjoyed this moment as it was the only time since he dug himself out of that grave where he felt truly warm.
"Shaiff..." a voice called out, a voice so familiar that it felt unsettling.
Under the flickering street flames, a figure approached - a similarly aged figure whose familiar stature Reed instantly recognized. His dyed viridian hair glowed in the dim light, cropped short yet carrying an unmistakable look. A sumptuous black fur coat draped over his frame, riding low to meet booted pants cinched by a crisp white cloth at the waist.
"Toma." The man said again, giving out a warm glow to his smile, his eyes thinning the wider it became as his hands spread.
Furnella examined the man, now standing two strides away.
"Geraint," Reed muttered in shock.
"Idicus Geraint."