008. Invitation

[katzepaw]

(12:06 to 25:33)

Caleb is standing on a street corner in the city of Rexxentrum with the Mighty Nein, when a young teenager dressed in the robes of a student at the Soltryce Academy approaches Caleb. “Ah, very sorry to bother you,” he says. “Are you Bren?”

Caleb goes rigid at this, and some of his friends gasp, eyes widening. “Ja,” he says quietly, and the boy hands a wax-sealed letter to him, and then just walks away.

“Tschuss,” Caleb says vaguely, staring stunned as he leaves.

“Who is it?” asks Jester. “What’s it from?”

Caleb opens the letter automatically, and reads outloud as he skims the writing. “Bren, it has come to my attention that you are visiting the capital this day. I must say, word of your patriotic deeds for the Empire gives my old heart a warming glow. As I suspected, some pupils can only thrive when you let them go to find their own path for a while. I’m quite impressed by your accomplishments thus far and would greatly appreciate the presence of you and your companions as my dinner guests at my manor tomorrow evening. Astrid and Eodwulf will be joining us as well, so consider this a proper family reunion. I do hope you consider my invitation, Bren. I gather we both have much we would like to say. - Master Trent Ikithon.”

“Are you going to go?” asks Jester.

Caleb thinks it over for a moment and sighs deeply. “. . . Ja. Ja, it’s what we came back for. There’s a lot I don’t understand, still, and, uh. . . my old teacher is, uhm. . . “

“A douche?” suggests Jester?

Caleb laughs, but his voice is shaky. “Ja, but I don’t know how redeemable or not my friends are. I don’t have a lot of faith that they are, but. . . I need to know. For sure.” He takes a breath, still weighing the letter in his hands. “And then also, I have many questions about the Assembly. It is hard to know if they have - if their plans line up with the king’s or if they have their own plans. If they have the same plans within the Assembly. They don’t all seem to get along.”

“You don’t think it’s a trap, do you?” asks Jester.

“I think it very well could be a trap,” Caleb admits.

“What do you think he wants from this meeting, from you,” Fjord asks.

“That’s a very good question and I’m not sure I can give you a definitive answer. But. . . Trent took his work very personally. My best guess is I am somewhat of a failed experiment.”

Fjord gives a noncommittal “hmm,” uncertain.

“I don’t know,” Caleb admits. “I don’t know why I was left abandoned for so long.”

“What if you aren’t a failed experiment,” Beau interjects.

“Like they let him go on purpose?” Jester asks.

“We’ve certainly achieved more than he had previously. Maybe he’s just in favor now?” says Fjord.

Caleb looks back at Beau, a little haunted by the possibility she brought up. “I’ve considered it.”

“Just trying to think of all the angles,” Beau says defensively.

“Regardless, Beauregard,” he says. “It could be a trap, and I need to impress upon you. Ikithon is about as dangerous an individual as you will encounter in your lives, and Eodwulf and Astrid. . . are likely not too far behind, or maybe they. . . “ he trails off.

“They can’t be as powerful as you are,” says Jester confidently.

“They have a bit of a head start on me, Jester,” he says softly.

“They didn’t drop out,” says Beau.

“Yeah, but. . . but you use so many spells, you’re so powerful! And you’ve been learning from lots of different sources,” says Jester. “They only have the one source.”

Caleb sighs heavily. “Well, they didn’t take a nap for a decade. But. . . just be ready for anything. He is powerful, Ikithon, but they. . . I can only guess at some of the things they have done since I knew them, but there is much that I do know. And they made,” a little rueful, “the ultimate sacrifice for country.”

Jester seems to be doing the mental math on what he just said, and horrified blurts out, “how. . . how old were you when you were here?”

“I was a young man; I was sixteen,” says Caleb.

“Wait,” says Yasha. “You slept for ten years?”

Caleb sighs again, his anxiety spiking, looking around at the busy street corner they’re on. “I was not in my right mind for a long time. There. . . are some gaps for some of you,” he adds, realizing how little some of them know. “Could we go somewhere a little more private than the street?”

They go find a small inn above a tavern, Caleb anxious and going through the motions the whole time, until they’re indoors and he can shut the door behind him. He looks around at his friends. Beauregard knows the whole story; Veth too, although she isn’t here. Fjord knows some of it. The rest of them, only a little.

“I’m not comfortable,” he says softly. “Uhm. Th-there are gaps.” He swallows hard. “Um. Astrid and Eodwulf were willing to do anything that. . . Ikithon asked of them. And their final test was to. . . kill their own flesh and blood, their own mother and father. And they did so.” He pauses for a long moment, gathering his courage. “And I. . . am like them. W-was. . .” He trails off, then quietly adds, “am. Am like them.”

“Was,” Beau says firmly.

“We share a road with a lot of people,” Caduceus says gently. “That doesn’t mean that they’re all the same, especially when you take a crossroads.”

Jester, though, looks a little more unsettled. “So. . . you - you did it, too?”

He can’t really look at them, stumbling over his words. “I-I-I have considered, uhm. . . sharing all this for a long time, but. . .” with a glance at Caduceus, “you cherish your family so much. And. . .” with a glance at Jester, “I suppose I enjoyed being seen as I should have been. Or - or could have been.”

Jester walks up to him and gives him a hug, and his breath comes haltingly for a moment, grief in his voice. “There is a reason I have never told you about my mother and father,” he says to her quietly.

“You must have been so sad, Caleb,” she says. “I’m sorry you felt you had to hide that.”

He takes a sharp breath, swallowing some tears. “Well, I’ve been lying to you. And I am sorry.”

“We lie,” says Jester. “We lie about things all the time to protect other people. Sometimes to protect ourselves. I don’t blame you for that.”

He sighs. “Uhm. Whatever we’re doing here, I. . . I’ve come home in the hopes of atoning, and. . . that idea has evolved quite a bit over time. And I’m not sure what the exact answer is, but I mean to atone.”

“What does atonement look like to you, Caleb?”

“Well,” he says, “I feel like the things that I’ve seen, no one should see. Never again.”

“So we should put a stop to it, then,” says Jester.

“Well, it’s complicated, isn’t it?” says Caleb. “It’s wrapped up in the ruling of a nation.”

“You’ve come a long way since me, you and Nott were huddled up in that hotel room,” Beau interjects quietly. “I said then you had a responsibility and that none of us would see you differently.”

“No one should be put through that,” Caduceus says.

“No,” Yasha agrees.

“No one blames you,” says Beau.

Caleb laughs a little tearily. “Well. One person. Anyway, I find it hard to imagine walking in there tomorrow and you not knowing the whole picture. That’s the whole picture. I want to learn what’s going on in my colleagues’ heads.”

“Think there’s something redeemable? Think they’re worth saving?” Beau asks.

“They’re worth saving, yeah,” Caleb says. “Whether or not we can, I don’t know.”