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Description
Pages and pages of ledgers were spread across the table. He honestly didn’t even care to look at them now. The amount of expenses from the repairs to his father’s…no, his inn were mounting. But there was nothing he could do about that. All he could focus on was restoring what was left.

Derient Thodris walked out into what used to be a storage room. Now, due to the damage done to one of the walls, it was an outdoor dining area for the guests to enjoy. His dusky blue fingers trailed beneath the petals of a rose that was aching to bloom. Other plants were getting set into pots and ground alike, turning the space into something of sheer beauty. The demons are in the details.. His father’s words ringing in his mind. He wondered to himself if he knew then how true that would be.

Nightmare. That is what it had been. It all started with him attempting to smuggle arcwine out with his hand crafted glass bottles. It should have been the perfect cover. He created bottles and vases of blown glass and packed one or two bottles of wine hidden in the shipping crates. If the crates were opened, it would have appeared to be his unique handiwork. He still could not figure out who it was that had betrayed him. All he wanted was to help his people.

His feet fell softly on the steps up to the main floor of guest rooms. All the while his mind spun, thinking about how his brother had convinced the guards that he was the only one involved in the hidden shipments. Derient knows nothing of this. I used his orders to hide my crime. I accept all responsibility. Exile. He accepted exile in Dery’s place. And that was only the beginning of it all.

The Legion had returned. Many of their people willing bowed to them, almost joyful in the arrival of their new lords. And they suffered none to question it. Dery needed to keep the appearance of loyalty, though he wanted so badly to fight against it. Someone must have known that.

He stopped in front of room 12. Placing a hand against the painted blue door, he cursed as the phantom pain lanced through the scars that criss-crossed his ruined back. He took a deep, slow breath and walked away. Once again his attention turned to the nearly completed repairs. A missing lantern on the wall here, a torn chair there. So little left to be done. To fix the hotel, at least.

The Nightborne opened the door to his office. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and sagged against it. Would their father be happy with what he was doing to restore everything? Could he forgive himself for what he had done to survive? Moving to his desk, he slumped into the chair.

His fingers raked through his long white hair, destroying the intricate weaving he had put in place only an hour ago. Tugging the silver clasp from the top, he opened the drawer. Peering within, he sighed as he set it beside a single room key, and the broken remains of a sayaad fel lash grip. Leaning back once again, he closed his eyes. He begged the stars for a moments peace, free of the memories.

Description
Pages and pages of ledgers were spread across the table. He honestly didn’t even care to look at them now. The amount of expenses from the repairs to his father’s…no, his inn were mounting. But there was nothing he could do about that. All he could focus on was restoring what was left.

Derient Thodris walked out into what used to be a storage room. Now, due to the damage done to one of the walls, it was an outdoor dining area for the guests to enjoy. His dusky blue fingers trailed beneath the petals of a rose that was aching to bloom. Other plants were getting set into pots and ground alike, turning the space into something of sheer beauty. The demons are in the details.. His father’s words ringing in his mind. He wondered to himself if he knew then how true that would be.

Nightmare. That is what it had been. It all started with him attempting to smuggle arcwine out with his hand crafted glass bottles. It should have been the perfect cover. He created bottles and vases of blown glass and packed one or two bottles of wine hidden in the shipping crates. If the crates were opened, it would have appeared to be his unique handiwork. He still could not figure out who it was that had betrayed him. All he wanted was to help his people.

His feet fell softly on the steps up to the main floor of guest rooms. All the while his mind spun, thinking about how his brother had convinced the guards that he was the only one involved in the hidden shipments. Derient knows nothing of this. I used his orders to hide my crime. I accept all responsibility. Exile. He accepted exile in Dery’s place. And that was only the beginning of it all.

The Legion had returned. Many of their people willing bowed to them, almost joyful in the arrival of their new lords. And they suffered none to question it. Dery needed to keep the appearance of loyalty, though he wanted so badly to fight against it. Someone must have known that.

He stopped in front of room 12. Placing a hand against the painted blue door, he cursed as the phantom pain lanced through the scars that criss-crossed his ruined back. He took a deep, slow breath and walked away. Once again his attention turned to the nearly completed repairs. A missing lantern on the wall here, a torn chair there. So little left to be done. To fix the hotel, at least.

The Nightborne opened the door to his office. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and sagged against it. Would their father be happy with what he was doing to restore everything? Could he forgive himself for what he had done to survive? Moving to his desk, he slumped into the chair.

His fingers raked through his long white hair, destroying the intricate weaving he had put in place only an hour ago. Tugging the silver clasp from the top, he opened the drawer. Peering within, he sighed as he set it beside a single room key, and the broken remains of a sayaad fel lash grip. Leaning back once again, he closed his eyes. He begged the stars for a moments peace, free of the memories.