Once again he found the echo of his boots to be a benchmark of his thoughts, but this time instead of gauging the height of his urgency, they taunted him with the one name that kept coming back to haunt him.

Jay. Cob. Jay. Cob. Jay. Cob. Jay. Cob.

Again, he found his inner dialog reminding him to only walk, though he desperately wanted to run. To fly. Let his fury carry him forward, but the remaining rational portion of his mind kept him in check. Stay calm. Don’t go off the handle. Walk. Don’t run. Walk. Don’t fly. There must be a reasonable explanation for this. It must have just been an accident.

An accident. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that he felt the leather of his gloves strain at the knuckles. An accident. No. It wasn’t an accident. It was bound to happen. His son and his nephew had never had much love for each other, and while neither of them were children any longer, they still also seemed incapable of acting like adults when it came to the other.

Jay. Cob. Jay. Cob. Jay. Cob.

If he was being honest, he had expected an incident to happen long before now. But again, if he was being honest, he had expected his nephew to be the one to remain mature. He knew that his son could be trying, by the void he would be the first to admit it! But to beat him and cast him over the edge to die?

He heard a low growling and it was a moment before he realized it was coming from himself. Too far. It had all gone too far. And even at a walking pace, his trek had been too short to allow his anger to cool. The evening had faded into twilight, and he found himself staring at the door with the familiar Redquill insignia. Though the apartment wasn’t his, it was nestled in the district where families under his House seemed to congregate. He stared at the crest for a long moment, willing himself to remain calm. An eagle, holding in one talon a fierce blade, and in the other a scroll. Strength and Knowledge. The tenants of his House. The tenants of his bloodline. Another low growl rose in his throat, but he forced it down.

Stay calm. Stay professional. You are the Patriarch, your word is law. He raised his hand and rapped firmly on the door. Maybe a bit too firmly. The door opened quickly by a worried-looking servant girl. “Where is he?” He snapped at her as if she were the intended target of his ire. She cringed and stammered, the sound of footsteps coming from deeper within the house.

“I-I-I’m not sure who you mean, Master Engelbrecht. Would you like to come in and perhaps the Madam can-“

“Yes.” He cut her off, pushing past. He could hear his sister rushing to the front of the house, pushing her rich brown hair from her face, her expression concerned.

“Elias? What happened?”

“Where. Is. He.”

“You’re losing feathers, what happened?”

“That idiot boy of yours, where is he?”

"Elly, calm down and tell me what's going on"

Elias bristled at the nickname. "Do not call me that, Helena." He could see the shadowy form of his nephew appear in the hallway, hanging back. "Your son killed my boy."

He was surprised by the lie, but it had the intended effect. Both mother and son took a startled step backward, Helena's wings spreading in shock. "H-he what!?" She gasped, her voice low and breathy.

"The guards are on their way over now to serve justice," He continued, amazed at how easily false details came. "They will take him away in manacles to the Tower, where the punishment is execution." He glared down his nose at his sister, still not acknowledging the young man who hid in the shadows. "But... Since he is family, I can push for a lesser sentence. Perhaps they'll only pinion him."

Helena was crying now, whimpering under her breath prayers to Engraal, the Keeper of Souls. "Oh poor baby! The poor boy, he was still so young!" She mewled between prayers. Her hands found her brother's vest and she drew herself into him. He enveloped her in his arms and realized that his hands were trembling.

"Jacob. Come out here."

There was a moment of hesitation and the young Eagleclan man stepped fully into the room. His wings were reddish brown like his mother's, but his features were strong and blocky like his uncle. Like his father as well, Elias supposed, but there was no mistaking that the Redquill boy favored the Engelbretch side. He must have just gotten off of duty, because he was still mostly in his Skyguard armor. The cuirass was partially unstrapped and he was missing his boots and a gauntlet. Though he had seen almost two decades of summers, the bald fear on his face made him look like a terrified child.

His fear brought Elias some relief, perhaps it had been an accident after all. "Well?" He snarled, rubbing his sister's back comfortingly. "Look what you're doing to your poor mother. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I.... I didn't... He's dead?" His knees started to weaken, but he placed a firm hand on the credenza and stayed upright. "It was an accident how did he--"

"It looked like someone hit him with a sword and shoved him off of a spoke, Jacob." Elias snapped.

"Why didn't he fly??"

"Because someone cracked his skull with a sword, boy! Shall we conduct an experiment and see how well you fly under the same conditions?"

All the color drained from the young man's face, then his eyes darkened and he straightened up stoically. "He wasn't meant to fall, but arguing intentions will not bring him back. I submit to justice and will await the guards to take me into custody. Please... Please, Uncle... I might not have loved him, but I never meant for him to die."

Elias sighed into Helena's warm brown hair, watching Jacob with scrutiny. "The guards aren't coming. He survived the fall, but only barely."

"He's alive?" His sister asked excitedly, pulling back and holding Elias at arm's length. Suddenly her joy darkened as she realized the deception. "How dare you lie about that! Is he okay?"

"No. He is decidedly not okay, but he is at least alive." He scowled at Jacob, who looked relieved and confused. "He fell into the ocean and only barely managed not to break his neck. The healers still have him, it will be a while before he recovers fully."

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"At the healers? I have to go see him, make sure he's okay, oh the poor boy!" But Elias caught her arm.

"Helena, let them work, it's been a long day. You can see him once he's home." He turned back to Jacob, whose face had soured. "Senior Guardsman Shadowcaster said he saw the altercation. That you approached him and the fight broke out. ...By the Void, Jacob, I expect better from you. What happened?"

"He stole from me. Again. A white marble soarwhale trinket given to me by someone special. Also his damned cat shat in one of my boots."

"So you approached him and requested it back..." Elias coaxed.

"And he said it wasn't him. So we argued and his stupid cat started hissing at me. I... May have made a threat against her that he took offense to."

"So you fought. When did your sword come out?"

"The cat bit my arm. I was trying to knock her off but he moved to protect it and I caught him instead. He stumbled off the edge immediately after. I thought it was another act to get out of the fight."

"And you didn't think of alerting Falconwatch or making sure he even opened his wings?"

"I meant to, but his cat was making life fairly difficult the moment he vanished over the edge." He rolled up his sleeves to show the multitude of angry red scratches. Elias was less than sympathetic.

"So let me get this straight."

"Yes, sir?"

"Roy stole a trinket from you, so instead of lodging a complaint you took matters into your own hands."

"I suppose so-"

"You made a threat against his pet cat, who is by extension MY pet cat -"

"- sir, I -"

"And then against an unarmed combatant you drew your weapon because his small, nearly harmless, domesticated pet cat bit you."

Jacob hung his head, but didn't dare look away. His uncle was moving slowly closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I am extremely disappointed in you, Jacob. And let me make one thing abundantly, excessively, painfully clear to you. Are you listening?"

Jacob's voice broke as he replied. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, sir."

Elias's face was dangerously close to the young man's. Jacob was finding it hard to maintain eye contact. "If you are slighted, you bring it to me," Elias growled. "And if you ever decide to take matters into your own hands again, I will not hesitate to take matters into mine. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir..." Jacob replied, his voice barely over a whisper.

There was a rush of air from the vacated space where Elias once stood. His nephew breathed in relief as Elias stalked to the door, pausing only long enough to allow their servant to pull it hastily open for him, before he grabbed the outer handle and slammed it shut.

Once outside, his wings spread and he stepped off of the walkway, feeling the breeze beneath him as he flew through the wide alleys towards the temple again. The glow from the sconces made the painted window send dancing colors across the paths. He landed carefully, folding his wings behind him and let himself inside. The raven girl - Clara? Carla? - was coaxing a thick potion down his son's throat. By the frequent grimaces he was pulling, it was quite bitter. But at least he was awake, though he looked as though he would much rather not be.

Elias looked to the old healer, bent over a mortar and pestle. "What is the news?"

"Everything has been set and braced, our biggest concern now is to fill him with potions and tonics to speed the healing and make sure he doesn't rebreak anything. He may sleep a lot, that's to be expected. The herbs for pain might make him groggy. But he won't be able to use his left arm for at least two weeks, his wings even longer. You do realize this means his training for the Skyguard will have to be put on hold."

Though he had expected no less, Elias still found himself clenching his jaw at the news. "I suppose you're right. We'll find him another path then. A scholar, perhaps." Strength and Knowledge. Skyguard and Scholars, the two professions that the Redquill excelled in. If he was unable to perform feats of strength, then of course he could put that cunning mind to use.

"Or," Maya suggested in a cautious tone that Elias instantly distrusted. "You could let him train with the bards."

"No."

"He has a natural talent for it, Elias! A quick mind and a quicker wit, he could be famous!"

"No. Not famous for being a clown."

"Oh Elias, don't be this way. A famous storyteller like the Elrian Blisback or Ceres O'daire or Vordaal Stormpint. The scholars might be the keepers of knowledge, but the bards are the ones who spread the seeds. Surely you don't find those names dishonorable."

He was loathe to admit he didn't, the tales of the bards growing up were what made history lessons palatable. "No. House Redquill does not breed bards."

Maya didn't bother hiding the roll of her eyes as he stalked over to Roy and whatever-her-name-was. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

The Peacock choked down a thick mouthful and gave a shudder before looking up at his father. A twinge of fear flashed in the boy's eyes before being instantly replaced with a grin. "Gnolls. With great, shaggy wings."

"Do you think this is a joke?" Elias replied dangerously, feeling himself bristle again. "Was all of this some ploy for attention? An attempt to win the affections of this girl Clarissa by invoking sympathy?"

"Cara," Cara corrected.

"Stay out of this," he snapped at her, turning on his son again. He was pleased to see that the grin had vanished, replaced with a cringing sort of fear.  "I'm asking you again. What. Happened."

Blue eyes darted, looking for an escape, for aid, grossly aware that he was in no position to flee or even defend himself. "I-I got in a fight. Jacob was mad and he threatened Rune so I hit him and we fought and I fell off the spoke,"

Elias straightened up, staring down at the cowering young man, but the voice from behind him almost gave him start.

"How dare you?"

He turned cautiously to the healer. "Excuse me?"

"Does it make you feel powerful, coming in here and bullying my patient?"

"He is MY son,"

"And he is NOT your wife, so you would be wise to stop blaming him for her misgivings."

"I am doing nothing of the sort!"

"And if gnolls had wings they'd all be Aven. You used to be a man of respect, High Justice, but all I see right now is a stupid, fickle child bullying an injured boy. Stop blaming him for his mother's crimes. He almost died today. You almost lost your only child today. Act like it."

Elias gaped at her, but said nothing. The veil of anger and self-righteousness had been blown away by the elder's hand, and instead of vindication, he felt shame knowing that Roy feared him so.  "...I'm sorry," He said, directing the words to his son. He turned, moving with slow, calculated movements to take the seat beside the recovery table, acutely aware that Roy hadn't dared blink, the intensity at which he watched his movements. "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "Jacob said you stole from him. Is that true?"

"Yes. A trinket. I can give it back."

Elias closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm and feeling another pang of shame in the difficulty. "We will do that when you've recovered. Maya, when can he come home?"

"Check with me tomorrow. He could go tonight, but frankly your little outburst has me concerned. If his pain is managed and your sanity has returned, we will see." He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his skull. "...It's rather late. I think it's best if we all finish up for the evening."

Elias stood, taking a moment to brush the tangled golden hair from Roy's face, "I'm sorry... I know you're not your mother. By Imodai if you don't look like her though." He studied him for a long moment, relieved to see the fear replaced with curiosity. "Get some rest. I'll come by in the morning."

With that he left, slipping out the door that the healer held for him, disappearing into the night.