Mutually Assured Descruction |Invite Only|

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

General Harken,

I have little time for Magickless swine. You quested a meet, I shall comply- but just this once. The southernest traveler's cave at high noon. If you decide to be late to this meeting, I will have already left. Do not waste my time with silly games, General. A moth, however large, still burns.

Archmage Faulkner

That was the letter he sent to that lunkheaded general. A boy paced back and forth in the dank caves, illuminated by the sunlight. Constantly, he checked the time easily. A magic wielder could always see the time with a spell or two. It was almost noon. What would the general want? His small face frowned in tense anxiety. He had brought two of his personal guards with him, both sitting and watching him with just as much anxiety.

Finally, Donovan seemed to give up and sat down on a rug brought over made of a soft wolf pelt and gently leaned against his beloved beast- Aeolus licked his cheek in a caring manner, its large incisors grazing his flesh dangerously close. He seemed to take no mind and gently stroked the Peryton's head before moving his attention to other things.

The young boy had brought a book to pass the time, his personal book. Of course, Donovan had to be constantly writing in this book. It would be high noon soon. When high noon came, he half-expected the General not to show, and he would go home telling the queen of the rude standup he received, wasting precious time. He wrote easily, lightly.

I wait for General Harken. He is a large man by description, strong, but not very wise I believe. He called me to these traveler's caves, I replied with my letter. He's been known to play the odd prank, if this is one of them then he will feel my wrath for wasting a whole day. Currently, I've tasted the water here. It is very sweet, surprisingly so for a cave. Most cave water should be stagnant, but these are clean and crisp, just as Lucius Decs Faulkner had spoken of several generations ago. Where does the water come from?

Even if the pigheaded General does not show, I may spend the day here to study the water channels of these caves. The coolness is quite refreshing, but I desire the coziness of my private chambers. For any of the next generation, I'd suggest a day's trip to these caves, merely to experience the feeling. I have a feeling there is a lot to be undiscovered in these caves- but ah, if only I had longer to study it.

It is nearly noon now.

With that, Donovan looked up from his work and placed the necessary items away, blowing gently to dry the ink and once dried, he shut his book and waited quietly, a few minutes more. His obvious anxiety was not just just from his hostile thinking of the General, but also the worry that this time waiting would've been wasted... he despised wasted time.

[General Harken]

Not many people could worm their way under General Harken's skin. Unfortunately, one of the few people that could was Archmage Faulkner. While they had never met face to face before he was aware of the lad's reputation and his response to the General's polite invitation irked the General greatly. Harken had immediately decided that he disliked the boy a great deal but he wouldn't allow that to interfere with his work. Even before deciding he disliked the child prodigy Harken had made up his mind that he would show up late to their private gathering. After all, nobility was expected to make a grand appearance after trying the patience of those around them and while he was sure he would not impress the boy he took joy from knowing that he wasted the child's time.

Almost a full hour had passed before Harken arrived on the scene alone. Harken was known for never traveling with a guard, believing his own strength to be enough to protect him. For the most part his beliefs were correct. Very few could physically match Harken's prowess on the battlefield. Harken arrived dressed more like a commoner than a General. Battle worn armor under a black cloak that was tattered from years of abuse. The cloak enveloped his figure, making him seem like a massive shadow, though his head remained visible. Beneath the cloak was his massive axe, it's handle jutting out from behind Harken.

His 'grand entrance' was not as grand as most men of his standing would have made it. Harken, with little finesse, simply strolled forward, the wind that entered the cave causing his cloak to billow in the wind forming wings of dark cloth. As if nature had cued itself the wind stopped as closed the gap between him and the three figures that stood in the sparsely lit cave. It fell around him, covering the left portion of his body while leaving the right free to move. "Archmage Faulkner I presume." he said as he glanced over the boy. No matter what rumors or stories Harken had heard he was no prepared to meet the boy face to face or, rather, face to chest. Harken towered over most elves with ease. When compared to a boy who was just on the cusps of manhood he was a giant.

"I am Archduke Jeremiah Harken. General Harken will suffice though. I hope I haven't been keeping you waiting too long. I'm terribly busy you know." he said. If he thought he could have gotten away with it he would have used a more sarcastic tone but from what he had heard the boy had a sharp tongue of his own and Harken didn't need to get into a battle of words. No, if that happened there was no doubt in his mind that the meeting would turn sour and the fight of words would turn into an all out brawl. "Though, I must assume that you're quite busy as well. After all, it isn't often that the Archmage has much free time."

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

The Archmage was furious that the man dare be late. The hour could've been spent working on his book, or studying the waterways, or even still in his room! The hour of time, slipping away in his fingers like water. No matter how hard he clasped, it would always dribble away to his dry death. Surely the Archduke had the politeness to understand.

"General Harken. I told you not to waste my time." The boy spoke, his fingers alight with flame in one hand and in his other a small tornado surrounded his clenched fist. His snarl was obvious- it was a sore spot to use up his time. No one in the castle dared use up his time or be late whenever he called. There was no room for patience in a world where the boy would never live to be a man.

"Of all people I'd think you would have the respect to be on time for a child who will never grow to be your age." He growled, seething anger in his throat in a way that implied that this discussion had already turned sour. The boy had at first been laying down, snuggled up to the warmth of his peryton. Now he was standing up and Aeolus licked his bloodied lips in a hungry manner, a small gash bleeding off his Rider's right arm.

"But I suppose... being as large as a tree, your body does not have enough calories left over to think. I guess you're excused." The archmage continued, opening his hand that contained wind and blasting a large storm's worth of gusts straight at the man. It wouldn't be fatal, it probably wouldn't even injure, but it would sure as hell take the wind out of the man's lungs (haha, pun).

[General Harken]

Harken looked disinterested as the boy spoke. His pent up rage prevented him from acting as he should have. After all, why should he show the boy courtesy when he had been shown nothing but disrespect? Harken inspected the walls of the cave until a bright light caught his good eye's attention. Harken shifted toward the boy and blinked several times when he saw his hands enveloped in magic. Gods, how Harken despised magic. Sure, it allowed him to move his monstrous hand of metal and earth but beyond that he hated it. The damned six elements made armor count for nothing on the battlefield and robbed Harken of all of his advantages. When the boy shot a burst of wind at Harken he moved quickly.

His hand went to his back and grasped his axe. He swung it, tearing the cloak from his body as he did so and slammed the axe against the wall of the cave. The blade embedded itself deep into the rock. Harken's cloak flew out of the cave, flapping in the mighty winds. Harken though remained rooted in place using his axe as an anchor. He scowled at the boy as he ripped the axe from the wall and rested the long, leather bound handle on his shoulder. His eyes met his, rage seething from them like flames from the pits of hell. "Of all people I would assume you know better than to judge by appearances." he said with a chuckle, it held no humor though as he stood tall and then looked at the boy's men.

The fact that Donovan thought of Harken as an imbecile wounded his pride greatly. Harken was as proud of his brilliance as he was of his physical might. While he wasn't one to pursue certain scholarly pursuits in his own fields he was a master who had dedicated his life to their studies. Suggesting otherwise was tantamount to challenging Harken to do battle. He would contain himself, for the moment. He needed to speak with this boy on matters of battle and upon the truce that was in the works. He prayed that he could keep himself at peace before the boy pushed him too far. "I suggest you set aside your pride, little mage, and talk to me as a man of some intellect."

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

Donovan growled softly and the winds around the two died down, allowing the General some peace. "You took an hour off the day while I was waiting. Time isn't something I can spare. I have no respect for a magickless beast who cannot understand that." He spat, sitting down on the pelt he brought with him as his only seating. The ball of fire still glowed in his hand ominously.

The little mage wasn't very pleased with this warrior. Wasting time to him was probably akin to the worst thing one could do to him, for every moment wasted was a moment he couldn't grasp to its fullest because he was waiting for an idiot who could not understand such simple concepts. He knew full well that the General was not as stupid as he seemed, but inn his own anger he was not in the mood to listen to reason.

It wasn't something that was impossible to understand. The Faulkner had a lot of pent up rage, years of frustration of the looming death before him that he was in full knowledge of since he was born. The time had stolen family and freedom from him, and soon it would steal him of his life- there was a lot he had a right to be enraged about. It was just that General Harken had pushed a very sore spot, one that brought up his frustration and anger and it was directed immediately at a man who had nothing to do with any of it.

And his anger was not spent yet. His hand of flames was thrown and fireballs lighted up the cave. He did not fear the safety of the General- there was plenty of water around in these caves. In fact, there was a large pool just by them. The boorish General would be just fine. He quickly gathered up more elements in his hands, water and some more winds.

[General Harken]

"And I, in turn, have no patience for snobby twelve year olds that look down upon others." Harken said. The man knew fully well that the boy was actually fourteen but irritation had already set in and had convinced Harken to take a shot at the boy's pride. Harken looked over the boy, his eyes narrowed, as he examined the last element in his hand, a raging ball of flames that flickered dangerously. Harken was about to ask him to extinguish the flames so that they might speak but a twitch of the hand made that command impossible to obey. The fireball that had been sitting in his palm expanded and then rocketed toward Harken with incredible speed. Harken's reflexes were a tad too slow to swing his massive axe so instead he did the next best thing; he took the hit.

Harken's left hand twitched and then shot up to protect his face. The cold lifeless metal met with incredible heat. It surged through the arm, making it glow a bright red, the heat of the blast being felt over the man's entirety. While none of the metal touched his skin the padding that he utilized had not been meant for such intense heat. Harken grunted at the feeling of the remnants of his left arm being roasted. Harken had no time to think of keeping appearances as he waved the arm around and ran toward the nearest spring. He skidded to a stop and then sank the red hot metal into one of the natural springs. The water fizzled as it quenched the hot metal, steam rising from it. Harken frowned, hoping that the delicate systems that allowed the more rudimentary motions had not been damaged due to the expanding and contracting metal.

He pulled his hand from the spring to examine the damage that had been done. The metal was tarnished severely, parts of it blackened from the magical flame. He flexed each finger without the magic he so often used to give the heap of metal life. He grimaced when he found out that the ring finger and pinky of his mechanical appendage had been locking into place in a loose semi-fist. It would take hours to readjust the delicate system of pulleys and wiring. He looked from his damaged hand over to the mage that sat before him upon the skin of some animal. He brought up his damaged appendage and presented it to him. "Boy, you need to learn your place in the world. Just because you know a few fancy parlor tricks doesn't make you my better. You take away that magic of your's and you'll be just another brat on the street." In Harken's mind the boy would have been better off with out the magical abilities. He would have been less proud and possibly would have the chance to live a full life.

On any other day he would have felt bad for the child. Though, any other day he wouldn't have set the larger man aflame and call him various names. The larger man moved forward as he spoke as if to emphasis what he was spouting with ever hard step he made. The desire to throttle the boy was overwhelming, fighting it took all of the diplomatic training that Harken had received in his youth and even that could barely leash his rage. His knuckles were white as they gripped the large axe as he commanded it not to swing it. "I suggest you restrain yourself so that we might be able to talk about what this meeting was called for."

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

Donovan did feel a bit guilty for letting his anger overtake him. He was always curious as to how the man's arm worked- he had never seen such detail on it before and no ancestor of his went in detail to such mechanisms. He imagined it took a lot of work to manage to make such a lovely replica. The idea that he ruined it was a tad shameful for him, it looked quite bad on his part. His shame showed a moment in an apologetic gaze as the arm was presented to him, anger quickly burning away to a look that spoke words his pride refused to let him say.

Then the look was hidden once more in a stoic fashion and the boy once more sat down on his pelt, leaning on and curled up by his peryton's warmth and protectiveness. "Alright then." Was all he said, taking a few sheets of loose paper and taking his quill from its ink bottle once more to write down their words as a record- well, of course... he had a tendency to record everything. It was simply the Faulkner way. Had he a choice, he probably wouldn't do so.. of course, first he had to realize that he was free to have a choice.

The archmage seemed to have large calmed down and became the diplomatic and level-headed character that everyone knew about and had varying opinions of. Some believed him to be an obnoxious little boy- no doubt the opinion he just gained from Harken. Others thought of him as very lonely and pitiful- an equally insulting opinion. He just wanted to be put on equal grounds and respect as any other lord or lady, with respect for his skills in magic and not being poked at or made fun of for his height and youth. Albeit, these were impossible. Perhaps in the past, his youth and power would've brought respect, these days he lived in it brought only dissatisfaction.

His left have waved a bit, a nervous habit when he was dealing with people and thinking about things. It flickered between multiple elements. At times a small gust of wind would surround his hand, at other times his fingertips would glow much like hot coals. He seemed to do this without his knowledge, an adaptation of a child's restlessness that incorporated the magic he so knew at such a young age, it was no surprise that anything he did had to dabble even a bit in magic.

Aeolus snorted and gently leaned over with his long neck to pull up the boy's sleeve with his large teeth, showing a fresh bite wound, still bleeding. The peryton lapped at the injury, whether from bloodthirsty hunger or from a parental need to heal injuries was not certain- even to Donovan. He tolerated the attention, it was getting blood off his robes and it also healed up the injury faster. In the meantime, his mud-brown eyes stared expectantly at General Harken.

[General Harken]

Harken watched the boy with interest as he seemed to mull over what Harken had told him. The emotions that crossed over his face once again reminded him that he was dealing with a boy who would live only a handful of years, less than Harken had already lived. A pang of regret and sympathy filled his heart but he didn't show it. Someone had to be hard on this child, someone had to show him how to be a man instead of obeying him because of his limited life expectancy and Harken was just the elf to do it. When he began to write Harken was taken by surprise. What is he doing? he wondered as he tilted his head to the side. He waved the thought away as he brought his hand to waist level and pulled a strange hook like tool from the folds of his leather armor.

Using the hook end Harken popped open the lower portion of his metallic hand revealing a system of various simple machines. "I believe that you should send your men away for the moment." Harken said, distracted by the tinkering that was going on before him. He was right when he theorized that some of the machines had been melted together. "Don't worry, I won't kill you or anything of the sort. It'll be a little difficult with one hand and our meeting is of the utmost confidentiality." he said as he pulled at the machines in a futile attempt to pry them apart. Harken's arm was so simple that it was a surprise that men before him hadn't thought of it or, at least, that was how he saw it.

The mechanical wonder was operated by what Harken called pressure plates. The corresponded to the movements of the tendons in his arm that had no longer had anything attached to them. With each flexing of the arm the tendons pressed against the plates which had a small bit of metallic wiring attached to it. Each of these wires were attached to another lever that was inserted to the corresponding finger. To perform the appropriate movement Harken had to do the opposite action. It was odd and took several months of training to get a handle off. This imperfect system allowed clenching and clenching of the fist but little more than that. Still, it was more advanced than most prosthetics in the world.

The most amazing part of it was that Harken, a man thought to be nothing more than a blade wielding Neanderthal was responsible for it's design. Weeks of research had gone into physical anatomy and other sciences before Harken was satisfied with his design and sent it off to the blacksmith. He couldn't very well have made it himself with only one hand but if he could have you could have bet he would have. He looked up from his tinkering at the smaller male and frowned. "Someone owes me a new arm." he said with a huff as he allowed the magic to flow through him. He slammed the lid of the arm down and then performed a strenuous exercise to test the flexibility of his hand with the magic and minerals used to operate the finer motor skills.

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

Donovan looked down at that arm, curious about how it exactly worked and how the man was able to control it all. His mud eyes glanced at his personal guards who looked at him with worry. Harken could break the Archmade's ribs with one blow from that metal hand... but with a wave of the hand they did as they were told and got up, walking away and going off to stand outside in worry and anxiety.

"As you've said, General. It is confidential. The only ones here now is Me, You, and Aeolus, and I will not be sending him away." The boy spoke plainly, holding a very stoic position despite his youth. For a moment, his constant waving on his hand stopped as he winced in pain, seeing his beast go from gently succor to gnaw. He pulled away from that mouth, placing it on the stag's dark blue fur with a carress that spoke volumes of care and affection, but gentle chastisement. He rubbed noses with the creature once, before looking back to Harken.

By his side, lay his childhood. Before him, lay his future. Harken was a man weathered by time and battle, his enemy but also more than that. Harken was a man that Donovan may never become, older, wiser, and having all the time in the world to experience the world. Donovan would only get a small taste before he would be pulled away by time and phased away into the relative nonexistence of his book, known only as just another Faulkner, significant in name but insignificant in identity.

Harken grew to his fame not by genes, but by himself. The boy felt a scowl approach his face, envy asking him to lose himself to anger. He smiled and gently closed his eyes, exhaling outwards and controlling himself as he always did. "Well, General, what would you like to discuss?" He asked quietly, solemn and aged and withered. Even though his body was young, his spirit had lived many generations in words, the only thing he learned was the hopelessness of his existence.

[General Harken]

Harken watched the guards and the beast leave through partially blind eyes watching their shapes travel along the sparsely lit walls of the cave before leaving the General and Archmage alone. Harken's gaze shifted toward the smaller boy and he almost chuckled. They were a rather odd pair to come across. Harken of massive frame and scarred beyond belief and then there was Faulkner, a lad barely into his life appearing as a doll before Harken. Yet they shared roughly the same rank in the world, both masters of their chosen disciplines. Harken, despite his dislike for the child, had some respect for him and his abilities. "I have heard rumors of a truce spreading from within your country's confines. My Queen has taken it upon herself to attempt to discuss such a thing with her... Sister." he said, finding it difficult to say anything besides that word.

The Dark Queen, in his own opinion, was little more than a ravenous beast with a thirst for destruction and ravenous beast needed to be put down. He would never voice this opinion but is was well known Harken had no love for the Featherstone's lost heir. "I've come her as one of her Majesty's royal advisors to discuss the truce at some length with you and lay down the rules for the meeting that is to occur between our respective leaders." he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Harken was rather curious as to why the Dark Queen was seeking a truce. The entire idea of it seemed off to the General. Usually those that initiated the war never extended an olive branch until they had exhausted their resources and the Dark Queen seemed to proud for that.

Harken knew that he had never beaten her on the battlefield so bad that she would seek on and the last battle to occur had gone her way. The General gnawed on his cheek as he contemplated the ramifications of a truce. There would certainly be a backlash from the nobility, especially those who had lost their lands to the Dark Queen. Harken had been one of them but he still retained his families keep and had no issues with abandoning what little land he had lost during the Dark Queen's ascension to power. He'd actually be content with the ending of the war though, not so much with the Dark Queen remaining in power of a country that had a military force that rivaled Queen Aria's. Maybe he could sneak some sort of subsection into the articles of the truce that would call for a reduction of her forces. Of course, they would do the same... To an extent.

[Seccom Masada-Sensei]

Donovan's pale fingers dipped into the pool of water by them, pulling away and with him an arc of liquid followed, a flowing stream as if he drew the water to his spirit. This small ribbon of springwater curled into his hands much like a crystal snake as Harken spoke. Was the boy showing off? Probably not- he merely did what came natural to him. The pool of water in his hands easily slid into the archmage's mouth as he tipped his head back and drank, leaving not a single drop of moisture on his skin and face.

Ah... the taste was crisp and clean and mystical. No wonder some believed that in these caves lay a fountain of eternal youth, water so fresh and clean that it cleaned an aging body of its oldness and freshened the tired spirit to the energy of a child once more. If this fountain existed, and he drank from it, would he still die? Would he, too, be young forever and not fear the death that curled around him now, waiting for him to exhale his last breath? His mud colored eyes lowered at this, reminiscing like a man at least four times his age, wanting of days where the concept of death seemed so far...

Onto business- time did not stop for the weak. Time did not pause for anything. The Archmage looked up at the man and sighed once he drank from the spring, the coolness seeping into his belly. "Of course, General. " He spoke plainly, pulling out his papers and his quill pen, writing the date and the meeting patiently, his fingers writing with a dexterity of a practiced old scholar.

"What you have spoken is true. The Queen does desire to meet with her sister. Her Majesty wishes celebrations of this event, a ball in particular." His words were frosty- no doubt while his own intentions was to follow the Queen, he did not doubt that his enemy would try something at this ball or even during the meet to try and assasinate the Queen. The thought of this made the Archmage's fingertips glow a hot coal red.

[General Harken]

A ball? That was the first Harken had heard about this. His networks must have been slipping. He silently cursed, wondering if he should send more men over there and attempt to gather more information. He silently reprimanded himself for such a thought. Of course he hadn't heard. The idea of a ball was probably something this young man had heard directly from the source. From the twisted Queen herself. Again the thought of her infuriated Harken. The idea that she would lash out against her sister was something that irked him but some childish memories remained. As the son of the former Archduke, Harken had often met with the girls when they were younger. Though, he was never around them much due to the fact that he was ten years their senior. He lifted an eyebrow as he realized that he was twenty one years the boy's senior.

He paid little attention to the magics that were going on around him as he focused more on the meeting. "Well then, I propose that we get down to work immediately. I suggest that the Queen's meet on equal ground. Preferably some place neutral with no men of their own with them. I would prefer that both of us attend such a meeting to keep the two of them from killing each other as that seems a likely course of action." he said, worrying more about his own queen's saftey than the Dark Queen. If anyone was likely to lash out it was her. For all Harken knew this plot to have a truce could be an excuse to get close to Aria and murder her. A Queendom without it's queen was ripe for the picking, most of it's might gone.

Harken had to admit, begrudgingly, that without Aria their country would be decimated in a fight due to Andarial's abilities with magic and her ability to use them in the heat of battle. Even he would have a hard time standing up to her, much less beating her. Also, Andarial seemed to have much more powerful mages. Harken glanced toward Donovan, picturing dozens of him prepared to take on an army. Despite his young age Harken knew what terrible powers he had and the boy was dedicated exclusively to magic which meant while he had little to no prowess on the battlefield he was a danger from afar, an enemy he couldn't see or reach. He forced such thoughts from his head. He couldn't think like that now. He was here for peace, not to size up his enemy. "Of course I know that our meeting is moot-point if the Queens choose to do things there own way but at least we could sway them to make the right choices. Royalty has an issue with seeing the more... tedious details." Harken did not enjoy speaking ill of the Queen but at times she could be a little, well, shall we say, impetuous.