Ple-Sen
Kaleido and Alaria (apparently, before setting off to fight) present a canvas to Deus — it is obvious that the knight carried it herself, while the lord merely walked alongside. Unveiling the gift, Mariarnelia's eyes beheld an offering of the following content:
- A work by Stefano Vignetto, a wandering artist, painted in the year 281. I have heard much of Your Grace's love for the visual arts, and therefore decided that this painting would make better company for you than for a person as far from art as myself.
- Not bad. Whose likeness do I behold on this canvas?
- This man was named Erebos; he was a foreigner who accompanied me on an expedition to Ikazkan. He was a brilliant scholar with extraordinary views on life.
- Was?
- You understood correctly, Your Grace.
- A pity, but I am pleased with the offering.
- I am glad to hear that. - Contrary to his words, the lord's voice was rather dry and indifferent.
One glance at the painting — or rather at the face of the man depicted in it — stirred in Alaria's mind a memory of a hazy image, gradually becoming clearer and clearer, until the letters in the Tanarsian's thoughts formed a single name: "Tiarius Reim" — the man who once plunged his native empire into the depths of chaos, driven by the flame of his ambitions. Erebos could hardly be called the Traitor's twin brother, but the resemblance was indeed striking. The Reim family traits were far too pronounced. Besides, the rebellious prince had never been a scholar.
Perhaps a mere coincidence and Stefano Vignetto's creative approach, which brought the man depicted on the canvas closer to the image etched into memory? Mere tricks of the mind, distorting the recollection of Tiarius's appearance? An identical stranger? Logical and plausible options, but when you know that you yourself are an outsider, and once dead at that, it is hard not to consider other possibilities. At the same time, this work of art was painted nearly a decade and a half ago. If he truly was a descendant, or even a son, of the disgraced Reim, then he would have either long since died of old age or be a decrepit old man by now. Still, Catharsis would have been curious to cross paths with this individual, both in the context of his appearance and such high praise from Lord Cartridge. Alas, that was no longer possible.
Throughout this time, devoted to her own thoughts, Alaria did not forget her duty, maintaining due vigilance, but outwardly she concealed her interest perfectly behind the usual mask of impassive professionalism. She took no part in the conversation of the important lords — she was not given the floor, and even so, she could not have made a valuable contribution to their discourse. In private, perhaps, it would have been worth asking her liege more about this scholar, but not here and certainly not now. That was a conversation for a more private setting, away from curious ears.