As Valen took in Matthew and Simon Romari, the father and the other twin, their expressions shifted from worry to relief upon seeing Samuel walking so at ease, before then changing once more to puzzlement as they took in Valen walking alongside him.
It was Matthew that recognized him first, of course; he had been the one working alongside Valen’s father at the Hatchery and had certainly been old enough to remember his face without prompting.
“Little Val? Is that you?” he asked, not even bothering to try and hide his shock.
Hearing what his father had said, it was now Simon’s turn to be surprised.
“Wait, Val?” he began before taking a step closer, as if it would help him see the Galar better. “By the Four, is that really you?”
Despite his steadily creeping exhaustion, Valen could not help the grin that lit up his face upon seeing them. Though Matthew was far gaunter than he remembered, his hair had grown to be almost totally gray, and he was obviously just as tired if not more so than Valen himself, there was still something about him that seemed warm and welcoming. It made Valen smile to know that, at least, had not changed over the years.
For Simon’s part, it was obvious that he and his brother had drifted towards different tastes and attitudes. Where Samuel had been all hard lines and anger when he had first seen him, Simon seemed as though he had put on some weight, and his hair, kept short and cropped, framed what looked to be an expression of almost permanent nervousness on his pale face.
Both Matthew and Simon wore similar clothes, loose linen shirts with dark brown pants tucked into work boots, though the twins’ father had a black cloth tied around his head to keep the sweat from dripping down into his eyes while he worked in what Valen assumed to be his leatherworking shop, if his profession had stayed the same since leaving the Galar Hatchery.
“It’s really me,” Valen responded, coming to a stop a short distance away from the raised table where the two Romaris had been waiting. He was not sure what to expect now that he had found those he had come in search of. True, their families had been close when Valen and the twins were younger, but he had no idea where life had taken them in the years since then. It was obvious that things had shifted dramatically for them, to be living in this place beneath the streets of Lakevale.
He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but he was cut off before he could begin as the man still wearing the cloak finally pulled his hood back, revealing his features to Valen for the first time. Musclebound from head to toe and standing at least six-and-a-half feet tall, the man’s heavy scarring seemed to extend across much of his body, including the tree trunk arms that had been revealed as he removed his cloak. As a matter of fact, scars seemed to be visible anywhere skin could be seen.
The man glared at Valen through dark eyes, his teeth peeled back in a grimace beneath his grizzled beard, the only hair that seemed to grow on his head.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. Valen glanced over at Samuel for support, but his friend had stepped away, looking apologetic. Apparently, he had been expecting this to happen once they arrived.
“I… it’s personal. I need to talk with the Romaris about something,” Valen told him, realizing that he had no idea how much he could say to this man, let alone anyone here in the Nest besides the family he had specifically come to speak with. Yet that did not seem to be good enough for this man, and once more found himself turning to look towards his old friend for support that did not seem forthcoming.
“Sorry, Val, but he would hear anything you would have to tell us, anyways. He runs the Nest and the Children of the Sky are under his command,” Sam told him. That was all he said, leaving them all waiting for Valen to explain why he had come to Lakevale.
Clenching his fists in frustration, he decided that if he was going to have to explain what had happened to him and his family right here and now, he would at least do it without the literal weight of his pack still dragging on him. Sighing with just a hint of relief as he slipped the bag off of his shoulders and let it drop to the ground, he crossed his arms in an attempt to look annoyed instead of fearful as he looked the man in charge of this entire place directly in the eyes.
“Fine, then,” he began, rolling his shoulders as he spoke. “Could we at least sit? A lot has happened.”
Though the bald man’s eyes narrowed, he nodded once and turned, gesturing towards the large table atop the raised platform, next to which Matthew and Simon still stood. They were all looking at Valen with expressions that seemed to scream a multitude of different things he couldn't even begin to read.
“Thanks,” Valen told their leader, before walking up and around to take a seat on the back end of the table, facing back towards all the others. Then, as he let himself dredge up the memory of what had happened to his home, the words began to spill out almost of their own volition, and for only the second time ever he told his story, leaving nothing out.
Considering he had no choice now but to trust in the judgement of his family’s old friends, he just had to hope that the man or Nessa or anyone else who might hear what had happened to him would not turn him over to the Empire. That would bring a swift and unfortunate end to his tale, certainly, though he supposed that Hera would still have a shot of moving on.
He tried his best not to let his mind linger on such dark thoughts for long, however, instead refocusing on his telling of events.
Valen watched everyone's faces as they listened, even Nessa’s expression falling from what he had already learned was a state of nearly permanent playfulness as she heard about the dragon riders attacking his home and likely massacring almost his entire family.
He spoke about their escape on Raenelir’s back, fleeing South from the Divide as quickly as possible, and then their encounter with the kind trader and his wife by Ura's Glade, when they’d had no food, money or any supplies at all. Finally, he got to the part where his sister Hera had suggested coming to Lakevale to try and find the Romaris, since they were the only other people in all of Parovia they really knew.
The last bits – splitting from Hera and the wyverns to enter the city alone, the search for anyone who might know where the Romaris were – passed quickly, and he finished his telling when he reached the point where Samuel had come up behind him with a blade and forced him into the alleyway to see who had been asking about his family.
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From the grim expressions on the faces of those around him, he knew his tale had caused them some alarm, though thankfully no one was reaching for a weapon or anything just yet. Not that it meant much. Valen had not even been sure if he could totally trust the Romaris, and they were the ones he had come here in search of. To tell these complete strangers of all that had happened? It was dangerous in every sense of the word.
Yet he had not had a choice, not if he had any hope of getting help for himself and Hera. That did not help the panic that immediately jolted through him when the group’s massive, bald leader stood and reached within his cloak and drew a large one-handed axe from his hip, which had somehow managed to remain completely hidden there despite the weapon’s size. Thankfully, his worry turned out to be unnecessary, as instead of brandishing the axe in Valen’s direction the large man set it down on the table, for the first time seeming to be just a bit less wary of the newcomer in their midst.
“While I will need to verify parts of what you have said,” the huge man spoke, his deep voice a rumble that would have been threatening if not for the sorrow in his eyes, “I am sorry for what has happened to you and your family, Valen Galar. Know that while you are in the Nest, not only are you safe, but you are among others who know the Empire’s true nature and who are not afraid to say so.”
So shocked was he by the man’s words that he quietly stared at him, eyes wide, up until he had completely circled the table and come to a stop beside him, extending one massive, meaty hand.
“My name is Orik Thangar, and you and your sister will have the help you have come here seeking. That, I can promise,” the hulking warrior finished. He certainly was a warrior, at that, for up close Valen could see the glint of dull but well crafted armor beneath his cloak, and a small shield strapped to his belt opposite the side the axe had been hanging on, a strange curved piece of steel-reinforced wood emblazoned with an emblem he felt as though he should recognize, but could not. It was an image of what appeared to be a wyvern, curled in around itself, with its wings outstretched to either side, painted in white upon the shield’s field of red.
He might have taken longer to try and figure out why it felt so familiar, but he quickly realized that a slightly awkward amount of time had passed from when Orik had extended his hand until now, and with a start he took the hand as quickly as he could. The bald man nodded with satisfaction, giving Valen’s hand a vigorous shake before releasing his grip and turning towards the others.
“We will discuss the details in the morning. For now, though the Nest remains fairly active late into the night, you have travelled far and I am sure you could use some rest. To that end, can I count on you to provide a place for our young friend here to stay, Matthew? I have a few things I must attend to, and quickly. While the Emperor’s new proclamation has certainly been heard here, it worries me that beyond an increase in patrols and tightened security around the city there has been no detailed word about Valen or his wyverns,” the leader of the Children of the Sky said. The young Galar did not miss the look that passed between Orik and Nessa, who for once seemed completely serious.
“I’ll have my people with their ears to the ground within an hour,” the woman said, giving Orik a quick nod as she spoke. Once he had nodded back, she turned and was on her way. Despite his exhaustion, however, this had only made Valen even more confused, and so he found himself asking another question before he could help himself.
“Is it bad that no one knows what I look like? I would think that should be a good thing,” he said, but from the look on Orik’s face he knew right away this was not the case.
“A breeder on the run from the Orders – even if you were only an apprentice – with a wyvern large enough to ride? Even if they were not sure what you looked like, they should have soldiers all over the city letting people know to be on the lookout for the Galar "criminals." You should be one of the most wanted people in the Empire. Yet I have heard nothing but the fact that the army has been looking for something. This is not normal Imperial behavior at all,” the man replied, though when he saw the worry now creeping its way across Valen’s face, he sighed and rolled his shoulders, appearing almost apologetic for a moment.
“Try not to worry too much. I’ll find out what’s going on and do whatever I can to help you, so rest assured of that, at least,” Orik added, and though his choice of words could have been a bit more reassuring, he knew this was the man’s way of trying to make him feel a bit better. He managed a small smile and nodded his thanks, trying not to think about his sister, staying somewhere out there with the wyverns under the night sky, before turning to Matthew and the twins, who were now all standing but continued to stare at him in shock.
It made sense, of course. The Romaris had known Valen's family since before he had been born. To hear of the destruction of the Galar Hatchery and the death of Aliden, Aiden and Vela, all at once? He knew how sickening that could feel.
He had felt it himself, in waves, hitting him every day at least once since they had narrowly escaped that first brush with death the night of the attack.
To call it unpleasant would be an understatement.
“Thank you,” he said aloud, feeling as if he should actually vocalize how he was feeling as the weight of everything settled on him now – including the fact that these total strangers were really going to try and help him and his sister, though what that might entail he had no idea. Then, realizing he was addressing the man in charge of the Nest, he shuffled his feet awkwardly and quickly added a, “sir.”
This pulled Samuel from his shocked stare into a slight chuckle, and even got a small, almost begrudging smile from Orik himself, who did his best to hide it as he turned away. Taking that as the signal for them to go, Matthew stepped up and rested a hand on Valen’s shoulder, turning him away from the table and stepping down from the raised platform upon which it was set.
“We should be going, Val,” Samuel added, following after his father. Valen nodded and started after the pair, then glanced back when he realized Simon had not started moving just yet. He was looking at Valen rather strangely now, as if he were trying to assess something in him. With a start, however, he realized he was being left behind and took up the rear of their four-man train.
They soon stepped out of the barracks into the open cavern that held the entirety of the strange, yet still very lively, underground city.
When Matthew turned and started off towards the area that seemed to be the Nest’s approximate version of a craftsman’s district, he could not help the grin on his face as he realized that he had been right about where Samuel’s family was likely living. They reached the Romari home even quicker than Valen had been expecting, nestled only two buildings back from the main circular thoroughfare. As they approached the home, and Valen saw light inside coming from source or another, a larger grin split his face and he turned to look at Samuel.
“Is your mom at home? I can’t wait to see her. She was always my favorite of you bunch,” Valen said, playfully jabbing at Matthew and the twins with his joke at the end. The Romari patriarch stumbled as he approached the front door of his home, freezing as he recovered, while Simon stood still and stared down at his feet and Samuel clenched his face, a look of pure rage falling over his features.
Confused, Valen looked back and forth between the three, not sure what to make of their reaction to his question. For only a second, he thought they had taken offense to his joke, and opened his mouth to apologize. Yet he very quickly realized that was not the case. This was something very different.
“Is…” Valen started, his words trailing off for a moment before he then tried again. “Is something wrong?”
His question seemed to hang in the air for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to speak. Then Samuel spoke up, his words filtering through clenched teeth. Somehow, he knew before the words even left his friend’s mouth, and his heart sank.
“Mom’s dead,” was all he said. That was all that was needed.
The rest of the night passed in uncomfortable silence, save for a few words of thanks when Matthew provided Valen with a blanket and pillow and showed him to a spare bedroom with an unmade bed. He was very grateful indeed when he drifted off to sleep, a blessedly dreamless slumber, the only place he could go to escape from the unfair world he lived in when he was awake.