Red Tape & Walled Gardens

[Hakon]

80th Frost 4622

It was odd to have someone in the tower that he cared about. Not in some romantic sense, no, this was more important than that and had nothing to do with immoderate urges toward dissolution. Hakon felt some responsibility for ensuring that Vivian's plight was ameliorated, and so when he was not doing his assigned duties, he found himself helping the Novus navigate the fraught and somewhat political environment of their Tower with the deft hand of someone who had lived there his entire life and the thick skin of someone who cared not a single whit what anyone thought of him.

He cornered Vivian's Warden and gave the man a very friendly chat about the importance of doing one's best for the Novus' unborn child. The kind of very friendly chat he had been taught not to have by his superiors in his adolescence after his growth spurt, where he stood too close and smiled too much and made eye contact for too long. Just like that, suddenly the man remembered the importance of shepherding his flock and caring for his coterie, and notice that Alistair, were he in Radenor, was to report to the nearest Mage's Guild at his earliest convenience. In parallel, he found the letters that Vivian had written were being held in their curious and sometimes internecine postal office, and leaned on the clerk until he ensured that they'd gone out.

Hakon was unsure why, exactly, people seemed so resistant to helping Vivian. The man was not a bad sort -- or no worse than many other mages in the Guild, at least, and he was a newly arrived Novus without the benefit of training to improve his attitude -- and he had a big heart, and he needed help. He could only assume it was the oddity of the man's medical condition that caused the discomfort. While Hakon himself couldn't say he had come to be at ease with it, it did not negate the fact that Vivian needed assistance, and so he found himself ensuring that the lad was given his due.

In return, he had gained an odd, funny companion. Not quite a shadow -- Vivian had plenty of his own duties to perform, and they did not overlap over much -- but someone he saw as frequently as time allowed. He grew to enjoy having Vivian loll around the practice yard while he drilled, or having him by his side while they each read, or having a companion in the Arcanum to practice magic with. More hands made for lighter work, and Hakon was glad for it. So he offered a genuine smile when he found the lad in the late afternoon waiting outside the door of his room. He'd just finished up training for the day, so he let Vivian in before beginning to change out of his soiled garments.

"Something I can do for you, Vivian?" He asked, his back to the other man as he swapped to a clean outfit.

[Vivian]

Vivian had come to ask about the flowers. The other mages had informed him about them, as it was the main leash keeping so many of them here. Without the flowers, mages would be able to sneak off or fight their way out. Perhaps deal with the brand as best they could on their way out of Radenor. Instead the pieces of their souls gave the guild a touchstone to find them with, and send men like Hakon out after them. That was part of the reason they hated him so, Vivian imagined. He would be the one to butcher them if they tried escaping, so they resented him. It didn’t help that Hakon was brainwashed hook, line and sinker.

All of that left his mind in a gust the moment Hakon stripped off his shirt. The man had his back to him but dear gods that didn’t help. Vivian could appreciate a well muscled back, and a finely tapered form as well as any other man. He swallowed, staring as Hakon stripped down. His eyes traveled down Hakon’s back, somewhat grateful that his pregnant belly hid the stirrings between his thighs.

It’s a fucking peach! his mind wailed piteously. Gods, it had been too long.

“I…eh…” Vivian cleared his throat. Focus. Fuck us fuck me why did the man he liked have to be an obstinate virgin?

“I wanted to know more about how you hunt down iconoclasts.” He said finally, aware he was blushing wildly. Hakon covered up, but that certainly didn’t help with Vivian’s active imagination. He looked at Hakon shamefully, perhaps playing it up a bit as naïveté. In reality he needed to know more. Those flowers were the key to ascension and ascension meant freedom. Freedom meant keeping his baby.

[Hakon]

Hakon stiffened at the use of the word 'iconoclast' before recovering and finishing getting changed into his customary simple linen pants and loose linen shirt. Once he did so, he invited Vivian to take his now-habitual place on Hakon's bed. He grabbed a pillow and knelt on the floor.

"That is a very serious subject, Vivian, and there are few good reasons for asking about it. We've already established that you will not be called upon to hunt an Iconoclast unless there is absolutely no other choice. Lest that not give you comfort: the whole of the Scarlet Watch that is available is dispersed to hunt down the iconoclast when this happens, led by the Fume Dragon that lives in our Tower, leaving behind only those that are on active duty within the tower to ensure that one iconoclast escaping does not lead the others in our tower to all-out revolt. I have been to a good many witch hunts," Hakon said, with a grim self-satisfied smile, "but while I find such exercises interesting and rewarding, it is also a solemn occasion. Few others within the tower have been to as many as have I, and the Watch only take along mages that volunteer. People are drafted if there are a dearth of volunteers."

"I assume that you know that I always volunteer, and always will. Usually there are a few high-ranking members of the Guild that do similarly on a rotational basis. You will never be drafted into such a service, lad. There's no need to worry, okay? I know you don't wish to harm other mages. No one here will make you do so. Please be at ease." So saying, he gave Vivian what he hoped was a comforting smile. It was hard to tell how a smile would go over when discussing such matters, but it seemed worth a try.

[Vivian]

The more Hakon spoke, the more dread settled in Vivian’s gut. A dragon? Gods, he had hoped the rumors weren’t true. They had a beast here, and the entirety of the Scarlet Watch would hunt him when he escaped. With a newborn at his breast and Bara not exactly being built for speed, that complicated matters. It made him sick to hear Hakon speak of it. If someone dared escape, and no one volunteered, the fellow prisoners would be forced to butcher their compatriot. He could imagine the fear of the mage on the run, only wanting to escape, and men he’d suffered with landing the killing blow.

It was the only thing that truly scared him about Hakon. Once he escaped, he would just be another face to hunt. Vivian looked down, chewing his lip like he did when he was nervous. “And what if I want to volunteer?” He asked quietly. Very quietly.

He had to sell this, and sell it well. He avoided Hakon’s eyes. “I…I was thinking about Degare the other day. How cruel he was. He saw people as a means to an end… power consumed him. He wanted my mark, and he was covered in them. Like a kaleidoscope of strength and I think it twisted him somehow. Like the magic, and all that ether, made him into a monster.” He fiddled with a loose bit of wood on Hakon’s doorframe. “He killed so many people. He butchered servants, homeless people. He was cruel to me. Even the man he loved. He might still be out there, and if I’m going to end him…I need to be prepared. The only way to do that is extinguishing people following his path.”

Vivian looked at Hakon. “Not the innocent. Never the ones who just want to return to their families. But, the others…” he trailed off.

[Hakon]

Hakon nodded approvingly while Vivian spoke of Degare, smile growing wider. The lad was seeing the light. Even if they did not agree on everything, they had found some common ground.

"You'd volunteer, then, for the right target?" He said with a grin. "Perhaps I misjudged you, lad. I knew you were a strong sort or you would not have made it through the streets of Daravin to us here. I just didn't expect you'd apply that strength to such pursuits, is all. I apologize for underestimating you."

"The nature of the hunt depends on the nature of the Iconoclast. Different tactics are required for an Engraver, for instance, versus a Resoner. Iconoclasts with multiple marks are more unpredictable, which makes them harder to combat. The goal of the hunt is to subdue the Iconoclast without undue loss of life on behalf of the Watch or the Guild. Sometimes, to use your example of a 'poor lost thing looking for its home,' we will attempt to subdue them bloodlessly. Dividim are helpful for that, as are Resoners, Mentalists, and the Risen. Anything that allows us to deflect, counter, or distract them from their magic."

"But I have rarely seen such instances in my time at the Guild, Vivian. Most people who tread this dark path do so because the restrained lifestyle of the Tower proves to be too much for them, and their immoderate urges get the better of them: they snap, and hurt someone, or try to give the slip to their Scarlet Watch guard so they can go on to live lives doing who knows what. That's when they are glad they have me," he said, smile turning into something approaching more or an arrogant smirk. "When there's enough varithium spread across the field, all mages lose access to their ether. I am no exception, of course -- my Branded weapons cannot be summoned, and I must rely on what's in front of me."

"On such occasions, though, it gives me satisfaction to see a mage realize that without facility of their precious Marks, they are a frail, unarmed human, and I am a warrior carrying out their vengeance." His tongue flicked out to lick his lips. His eyes were shining. In all the time of their brief acquaintance, he had not been so animated.

[Vivian]

Of course Hakon had underestimated him. So many had. Vivian could be physically outmatched, but there was nothing he would not do to survive. Hakon, of course, relied on physical strength. Vivian looked at Hakon. His eyes shone with an evil light as he spoke, and talked as though Vivian had come seeking them out. Hakon had forgotten he was a prisoner, here against his will, and the one thing that Malformity mages despised above all was a cage.

Their primary goal was to crush the mage, by hook or crook, usually by distracting them from their magic or blocking attacks. Gods, they would hunt him. Fear twisted in Vivian’s gut. He could imagine them hunting him down, tearing his child from him, and sending him back to the tower a broken creature with nothing left to lose. He’d seen men like that.

Vivian looked Hakon in the eyes. The man spoke like Degare. Instead of speaking of power and magic, and the intoxicating world of Mentalism…Hakon spoke of butchery. He fought dirty, severing the mage from their ether and cutting them down a helpless creature. He couldn’t imagine losing connection to his magic. It was the one thing that made him more than a common vagrant.

He swallowed. He was afraid of Hakon. Afraid, and terribly aroused all at once. The man was like Degare, and couldn’t be trusted not to wildly kill. Unlike the old elf, he had seen little moments of sweetness in Hakon. He wasn’t lost yet, but the similarities made him sick.

Vivian was frightened, but that could have just as easily been mistaken for nervous excitement. Especially with the look he gave Hakon. His eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and adoration so many sadistic clients loved. Lips apart just enough to let Hakon see his breathing. “Show me?” He whispered. He wouldn’t lie to himself; half of him would have happily delayed the plan if Hakon threw him back and mounted him there and then.

“Show me how..?” Vivian asked breathlessly. Gods, he didn’t think it was possible to be this aroused and this frightened.

[Hakon]

For a moment, Hakon wasn't sure what Vivian meant. Show him how to what...? His confusion showed on his face; Hakon rarely bothered hiding his emotions and now was no exception. It was part of what made him good at lying when he did it, his teachers had said. People didn't expect such a straightforward man who could be blunt, sometimes cruelly so, had any craft to him. In this moment, though, there was no artifice, only enthusiasm.

"You wish to learn how to hunt?" He asked Vivian. "Surely, lad, there are more immediate concerns to address, I think." He referred to the fact that Vivian was at the phase of his pregnancy where it seemed the baby truly could come at any moment, where the lad seemed to strain to hold his own life and the one he'd created in one body. "I do not think that taking you out on a hard day's ride and simulating tactics for different sorts of Iconoclasts would be a good idea at the moment, and please do not try to convince me otherwise. I know you are tough -- for the sake of the life you carry, do not feel as though you have to prove this by gainsaying me on this matter."

"I suppose we can talk about what would happen were an Iconoclast incident occur here at Vesterhal, though. First, all the mages in the immediate area will be called back. There's a clarion and they light the big beacon at the top of the tower -- you can see it if you're within a two day ride, more or less. If you see the beacon, it means drop what you're doing and return to the tower immediately. By doing so, it allows more Scarlet Watch members to be dispatched after the knave who ran off. All mages in the tower are confined to the dormitories unless they are very high-ranking or are volunteering to subdue the Iconoclast. Those that stay behind, they wait for the all clear and piss and moan about how there's nothing to do. The Watch go on high alert at around that time, so even minor infractions, like use of noticeable magic since no one is allowed in the Arcanum, are severely punished."

"Those of us who choose to actually help are dispatched under the command of the Scarlet Watch. During a hunt, your rank does not matter -- you do as the Watch says, and you work with them to subdue your quarry. They have the help of the Fume Dragon, of course -- the use of the Sundered Flower is key here. He will track it to the ends of Atharen, tirelessly and relentlessly with the Esquire astride until they find the derelict fool. Getting between a Fume Dragon and something they want is a great way to lose your head, so at that point, the hardest part is to keep up and ensure there's no damage to the innocent. So, should you choose to come out with me sometime, you will be very well-protected, and we all work together to keep the damage to the worthy to a minimum."

"It's preferable that the Iconoclast is caught, not killed in the field, so that they can be..." he paused, tongue flicking out from between his lips again unconsciously as he chose his words with care, "be made an example of. Put in a varithium collar, then executed," he clarified. "If that's not possible, though, a field execution is always authorized. Better dead than fled."

[Vivian]

“No, no…it’s far too close to the moment of truth.” Vivian said quietly, touching his belly. It was drawing closer. Frighteningly close. A day or so ago, the teeth had released their hold on his cervix and withdrawn entirely. He had to believe that was preparation. He felt restless, sleep was nigh impossible and his tasks had been reduced down to things like shelving books and washing dishes.

“Fume Dragon..? How does he know which one to eat?” Vivian asked, fearfully. Gods, they could track him with his. The bastards had taken a piece of him, a piece he couldn’t leave with them. He would have a dragon after him. That was a risk he would have to take. He touched his chest. “…Could I see it? The flowers?” He asked fearfully. “I…I’m curious.”

He clutched at the front of his coat, nervously. Better dead than fled. That answered his question. Hakon would kill him. The poor man was so blinded by his duties he would tear Vivian into pieces. He had to get out of here. The baby was coming sooner rather than later. Vivian was out of time. His things he would have to leave behind, but he’d packed a small bag of his books and basic kit. If he could keep the kid quiet, he could grab his brass equipment. If not…he’d have to lose it.

He looked into Hakon’s eyes. “Please?”

It was time. He prayed to Azunath for strength, for protection for his child, for luck. He would need all of the strength, guts, and determination any man had ever possessed to get out of this. He had to be prepared to give birth on the run, and ride no matter how hard it hurt. He was ready.

[Hakon]

Hakon was too caught up in his enthusiasm for the topic to question why Vivian seemed so intent on this line of inquiry. It was something he cared about quite a bit, and he rarely got to discuss. It was, he was given to understand, morbid and odd to discuss, but Vivian was himself quite morbid and odd, so Hakon did not find it out of character that the lad was so interested in the capture of traitorous wretches. Also, he'd spied Vivian looking wistfully at a group of books about dragons when they'd been in the library once. Perhaps he had an interest. Perhaps, as a Malformist, he thought he could one day transform into one.

"The dragon would not consume the Sundered Flower -- I am unsure what would happen if they did. That is a piece of the iconoclast's soul. I can only imagine consumption of such a thing would be... unpleasant for the dragon, and perhaps for the Magus, as well. They also would not be able to discern which flower should be the target if presented with the whole of the garden, Vivian. Dragons are not intelligent as we are, though they are noble and quite clever in their own way from what I've seen in my limited interactions with them. For that matter, if you asked a member of the Watch to pick out the flower from all the others, I do not think they could manage this. I am unsure on this count, how they keep track -- that knowledge is held within the Watch -- but I would imagine that they keep some record of it. Perhaps in code," he mused.

"The Watch adores ciphers and the like," he clarified for Vivian's sake. "I believe the official reason is so that we cannot read special correspondence or books meant only for the Watch's eyes, but unofficially I think some of them may just enjoy puzzles." He smiled at Vivian. They'd talked about ciphers the other day, and the lad knew Hakon was rather taken by them, too.

"As for the garden of Sundered Flowers, I am afraid as Mages, we are not allowed in that portion of the tower." Hakon said. "It's in the Scarlet Watch Garrison, near the top. I've imagined it would look rather pretty, though. It would be nice to be able to see it sometime."

[Vivian]

The plan began forming in Vivian’s mind as he listened. If the dragon used flowers to track, then wouldn’t using his own during the ritual render it moot? Wouldn’t it be the key to freeing the mages in the tower? They would at least have a chance to escape, knowing that a piece was no longer tethered here. He wished he had more time. He wished he could help the other mages, but perhaps he could when he no longer had the pressing problem in his womb.

The mention of ciphers gave him an idea. Hakon had always been kind to him and he would hate to steal the man’s face. However, it was his best chance for getting out of the Guild and escaping properly. Perhaps…he could help him as well. Hakon wasn’t truly evil, only a product of his environment like so many others. Like a wasp he was only aware of the hive and not the gigantic world outside of it. That would be his repayment to Hakon; removing his shackles.

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense.” Vivian replied. They didn’t allow mages in the Scarlet Watch Garrison. That meant he was going to have to be incredibly careful with how he crept into the garden. “Thank you…for educating me.”

For the education, and for the key to leaving the prison. Vivian reached out to touch Hakon’s hand in thanks, and left to return to his room. He had a note to write, a cipher to create, and a plan. As he left Hakon’s room, pain clenched around his middle, forcing him to sag a bit against the wall and hiss. Just a little longer. The lad needed to hold on just a little longer.