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The Vysstichi’s silver brows rose at the reference to Fidelis Meridius, a long-time comrade-in-arms and friend. It hadn’t been long since both he and Serion had met with the Dark Knight on the streets of Aelyria Prime, an encounter that, unsurprisingly, had included much tension. The Prince of Har’oloth had not seen Fidelis since that occasion, but it was good to know that the Knight was still in faring well, especially considering that last debacle.
Turning as Serion approached, the younger swordsman nodded accordingly and stood idly while the pair acquainted with one another. The exchange reminded the Prince all too well of the first time that he had met Serion, an event that had inevitably changed the dark elven prince’s life forever. Like all of the other D’Rinishads assimilated in the aftermath of Serion’s plight to the surface, Areka would, perhaps, find solace in her life at last.
“Interesting that she would find her…” Faust said after glancing over the letter. Concern flecked his red eyes as he looked to Serion then, wondering what the Vysstichi Lord thought of it. “…and so quickly too. From the looks of it, things might not be boding so well for her, or the entire House for that matter as well.” Shrugging at the possibility, Faust looked to the ring cradled in Areka’s small hands.
The sight of the dagger in her other hand elicited a grin along the dark elf’s lips, “There were four of them…what could you have done?” He rhetorically asked, ruffling her hair lightly as to remind her of those previously horrendous odds against her back in Vortex.
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