Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 17: Reunion

It had been years since he last saw him, when he had gone off in a huff after an argument with his brother. It appeared that 'Yron' had not lost his dramatic flair, but he could see that the years had been good on him.

"Yron, is it?" Phyllon asked amused, while Torynik stared at his brother with a betrayed expression. For once, he was glad of his decision to contact his grandfather directly to arrange the meeting, especially as it allowed him to see this. Once he figured out who the 'Rauthian Scourge' was, he knew that the Sahora was the best way to contact him. Though, how did the portsmaster know?

He recalled the childhood discussions of the past where the older teen who had just started his adult braids proclaimed his oath to be the 'Scourge' who was feared and respected by the evil doers on the Rauthian shores and gain the influence he needed to reclaim his legacy. It appeared that age did not change his penchant for drama.

'Yron' rolled his eyes at Phyllon before sending a spark of annoyance in warning. Phyllon smiled. He was the only one who thought of sending him messages that way.

"Yes, I go by Yron right now."

"Yron? Do you mean iron? Or is it 'Sorrow' in ancient Tellenese? Why would you call yourself that?" Sonaya appeared to calm down once he realised that no one else was panicking. Phyllon mused at the level of trust his new friend had for him. He supposed his reputation did sometimes come with benefits outside certain circles.

Yron shrugged. "Does it matter? A name is many things, but for now, this is what I would like to be called by you all."

Torynik gave an exasperated sigh, calling Yron's attention to him for the first time. He stared at him, shocked. "Nik?! What are you doing here?"

Phyllon held back a laugh. It appeared that neither of the two siblings was aware of the other's role in the grand scheme of things. The Sahora was keeping secrets again, and it appeared for once that Phyllon had figured things out before Torynik. Of course, 'Yron' was not the original 'Rauthian Scourge'. The name itself was a title that they had come up with, which the Sahora had humoured them by setting as the name of the leader of a mercenary group under his control. It was a little known secret, which Phyllon had oy known incidently because he was there on its creation. Then again, how did the portsmaster know?And how much was he aware? It was another mystery he was looking to solve once they got back.

"Wait, there are two of them." Phyllon held back a sigh at the prince's inane response before he heard Asmir's chuckle. He glanced at him to see him watching on amused to see the siblings' first meeting after what must have been years.

Phyllon felt slightly abashed, recalling his prior hero worship of the then teen, which Asmir had witnessed, and he knew that the sailor had connected the dots from his stories. He gave him a warning glance not to reveal anything, which Asmir appeared to understand. Asmir glanced at their companions and realised that Phyllon was trying to hide his prior connection to the mercenary, though Phyllon could feel his confusion. It was not that he had anything against his companions, but Sonaya was suspicious, and the prince was foolish. He preferred to keep a few cards hidden, at least until he could fully trust them.

Phyllon returned his attention to the two siblings who were standing still from shock before sighing. "As interesting as this is, I think we should more to a better location where we won't be eavesdropped on, don't you think?"

Yron gave him a glance at the subtle warning that he had been caught earlier before turning to the rest of the group. "Since you all came all the way here to meet me, I suppose I can share my shelter with you. That is, if you dare, trust me."

Torynik reached up and gave him a gentle blow to his shoulder, which caused him to exclaim and rub his shoulder in surprise. "Hey, what was that for."

Phyllon just shook his head as he cleared their camp, Asmir following him shortly. Asmir glanced back amused at Torynik, causing Phyllon to shake his head. "Don't."

"But-"

"Really, don't. Or I will have to tell him about -"

Asmir waved his hand in defeat. "Alright, I get it. I won't use this." He continued under his breath. "Not this time."

Phyllon chose to ignore it, as he could not sense any malice, only a playful rivalry. He sighed. It appeared that growing up did not always lend itself to maturity.

###

Phyllon recognised the camouflaged shack that Yron had taken over from his time training in the forest with his grandfather. He looked over it nostalgically, recalling the harsh training, and he suspected that 'Yron' had gone through the same or at least similar. As strange as it was, he preferred the training over dealing with the nobility, with their shameless hypocrisy and backstabbing. Still, it was the nature of people and power. Power corrupts, which was why the role of the Sahora and his people was so important.

He looked around as everyone settled around the room, the prince taking one of the only chairs in the room, Yron the other. Sonaya sat crosslegged on the only bed in the room while Asmir perched on the chest of drawers. Phyllon leaned against the wall, opposite Torynik, who could not keep his eyes off his younger brother.

Yron looked around the room before giving an amused chuckle. "Aren't you going to take a seat, Nik?"

Torynik gave an annoyed huff, which was very much out of character for the mysterious air he normally gave. Phyllon supposed that his brother still brought out the childishness in him.

When Torynik moved to sit next to Sonaya, Yron turned to Phyllon.

"What is this? Are you guard, now? You seen pretty wise for a guard." Yron teased.

Phyllon inwardly rolled his eyes. He knew he would regret wanting to hide their prior connection, but he still felt it was the wisest decision for now

"I am no guard. But I am here to help in these... discussions as it may be."

"Sounds ominous," Yron replied lightly before turning to the prince. "So, is there anything I can do for you, Your Highness?"

Prince Karriv startled. "How did you -"

Yron suddenly frowned as he looked deeper into the prince's eyes before he suddenly grabbed his hand. The prince startled, and Sonaya jumped at the sudden motion, but Asmir just watched Phyllon, who appeared to be expecting it.

"What are you doing?" Prince Karriv asked as Yron stood up and leaned closer, gently looking at his eyelid before moving back.

"Who gave you Jeskin leaves?" Yron looked troubled before he looked around at the gathered room. Phyllon felt a heaviness as he took in Sonaya's shock, Asmir's confusion, and Torynik's growing understanding.

"Jeskin leaves, isn't that ‐" Sonaya started, only to be cut off by Torynk.

"A restricted herb, with psycho-magical properties, known for being used to lower people's guard and make them easier to manipulate. Also, it has the side effect of making people have swings of agitation and depression, making them prone to irrational behaviour."

Phyllon could feel the growing sense of horror in the room and felt a sudden sense of helplessness. He had his suspicions, but he did not like to have them confirmed. It was worse than he expected, and he looked at Yron bleakly, hoping for answers.

"How long do you think he has been exposed? And how do we reverse it?"

"What are you talking about?" Prince Karriv exclaimed. "Someone drugged me? When?"

Yron looked back under the prince's nails before looking at his eyes and skin tone. "I am no healer or apothecary, but I suspect it has been going on for some time now. I only noticed because someone I know had once been dozed." Yron gazed into the distance, recalling a bad memory before shaking his head. "But on the bright side, it does not look like you have been dozed recently, and some of it has metabolised. Bad news is that some of the side effects may remain if you are not treated."

Phyllon rubbed his head. It looked like there was one more thing for him to worry about. He exchanged a glance with Asmir, who nodded his head before excusing himself. It looked like he needed to ask the Sahora for another favour before they got back.