Xanthopsia

Chapter 12 - The Clothesline

   Denthon sits outside the holding cell, not going in so as to stay under the radar. His mind darts around various options of getting Julian out safely, but none of them seem viable.

As he stands up to leave his phone drops out of his pocket. He reasons that it's likely the guards have taken the phone away from Julian, but that there can't be any harm in at least trying. But before he gets a chance to attempt calling, or messaging, he feels a tap on his shoulder. As he turns he is greeted by an old friend and a warm hug. "Denthon, it's been a while!"

"Throkan! What brings you here?" he asks, pulling out of the hug. Throkan stands at a sturdy 6 foot 7, with a trunk-like frame and a smile made of sunshine. It's a rare thing for someone with such a menacing build to emanate such a welcoming aura, but that was also his trademark. Denthon notices a coldness pass over Throkan's face after registering his question, an emotion he has never seen on his friends features before. "Are you in need of help?" he asks, gently patting Throkan's arm. Throkan takes in a shuddering breath and grimaces.

"It's mother."

"Is she unwell?"

"She's... well..." he mutters, glancing towards the holding cell. "She's in there." he manages to add. Denthon takes a step back, visibly rattled by this information. Granshia was the last person he would expect to be in trouble with the law. And even if she were, he would gander she'd be late on taxes, which would not warrant a stay in such a high-level holding cell.

"On what grounds is she here?" he asks. Throkan takes in a deep breath and places his hands on his friends shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.

"She killed Nimtron." he says. Denthon frowns, trying to digest the information that he is receiving. It doesn't make any sense at all. She'd always been a devoted mother and would have no cause to kill her own child. Or, so Denthon thought.

"But...why?" he manages to ask, after an uncomfortably heavy silence.

"He got in with the wrong crowd, starting using various things and they ended up trying Xanthopsia." Throkan sighs, "and you know how that story plays out, don't you?" he adds, squeezing his hands around Denthon's shoulder ever so slightly.

"Sadly, I do." Denthon replies, raising a hand to rest on Throkan's arm in a reassuring manner. "How long has she been here?"

"I only found out this morning, came here as soon as I could."

"That's understandable." Denthon says, pulling him in for another hug and patting his back slightly. As they break from the hug Throkan asks, "And what brings you here?"

"You know how Boyd gets... we ended up in a bit of a pickle and his best friend is now paying the price of his rashness." Denthon replies, causing both men to chuckle.

"Ahhh Boyd, I do remember him. Feisty little kid."

"Not changed a bit, except perhaps in height."

"Are you headed in?" Throkan asks, gesturing to the holding cells.

"I'm just doing some recon, as it were." he replies, hesitating slightly as he glances around. He lowers his voice slightly and leans in closer to Throkan, "truth be told it's all part of the operation I mentioned to you a while back."

"I understand." Throkan says, clearing his throat. "You know Denthon, I initially turned you down because I had to look after mother and Nimtron, but I want in on anything that goes on from here on out. I'm tired of watching this city be overrun by crooks and magics that we can't control. Something needs to change."