Chapter Text
If he’d had the chance to change anything, Vax would have not have met Verin flat on his back and covered in ichor.
There were more regrets, of course. He had made far more momentous choices that had ended up hurting those he loved, but most of those fateful knots were so intertwined with happier outcomes that he could not get himself to truly regret them. His mistress abhored revisions for a reason; too many grand fates were based on seemingly insignificant decisions.
Vax still thought that not much would have changed in the larger scheme of things if he’d been allowed to have some dignity, though.
Bazzoxan was in poor shape. This was not a reflection on the Kryn forces; it was a gateway to the hells and incursions happened regularly even before the Solstice. Once the leylines thinned and ancient binding magics weakened, more betraying rot broke loose from the tunnels underneath. The Kryn had needed help. They had donated troops, powerful magical artifacts, and had to have their most sacred rituals shared without their consent. The rest of Exandria - especially those that aligned themselves with the Primes - owed them.
And so, there was a call for the Prime Deities' champions to be on clean-up duty, murdering the forces of the Betrayers like they were rats in a cellar. Morrighan had explained that they had to be the first to volunteer - first because of the Raven Queen’s actions in Vasselheim, and second because the Kryn worshipped a god devoted to his Mistress's beloathed amendments. To not be first would help cement a rivalry that the world did not need.
It was the type of social acuity that made him ache, just a little.
(He could visit his sister again. He should do so, the next chance he had. He was sure one of these days she would stop looking like she’s one word away from bursting into tears in his presence. He simply needed to muddle through until then.)
Getting to Bazzoxan was no issue. Vax’ildan hadn’t been brought back to his former living self; he’d only been given the chance to spend more time in Exandria. He still retained his ability to step sideways - out of time, out of space - and go to a dying soul to help them cross over. After all of these years, it still felt a little like trying to lucid dream, but he’d gotten much better at recognizing the misty landscapes of the Ethereal Plane. It was beautiful in its own sort of way. He’d learned to almost love it, the way he’d almost loved the sweets in Syngorn - not the same as what could have been found in Byroden, but close enough to soothe the ache at times.
Still, it wasn’t an exact science. He’d ended up a little lower in Bazzoxan than he’d meant to be and found himself facing a few spidery abominations, with Morrighan coming from behind to make the killing blow. When he heard more decidedly non-heeled boots rush in behind him, Vax swerved around to toss a dagger and slipped on some slickness on the ground, the momentum causing his pivoting foot to fly up into the air. He fell hard, the entire length of his back hitting the cavern floor at once. He heard some crunching underneath, and could only hope it was pieces of drider carapace and his dignity, nothing too important.
The dagger had flown from his hand to hit a stalactite and then ping harmlessly off near the entrance. Vax heard the newcomer stoop down to pick it up, but then the dagger blinked out of existence and found its way into his hand again.
The figure stood up - a drow man, handsome, with long white braided hair and insectoid armor covered in an absurd number of spikes. “We got notice of a perimeter breach down here. Are you, uh, in need of any assistance?” He sounded more bemused than worried, but Vax did note that he didn’t come any closer. That helped his pride a little bit - at least he commanded as much respect as a fox in a rabbit trap.
Morrighan stepped forward, her black leathers perfectly spotless, and held out her hand. “That’s Kryn armor, right? I think we’re supposed to be meeting you. We’re the Raven Queen’s Champions.”
“Oh! Yes - we were expecting you to arrive a little, uh, closer to the surface,” the drow said, as if arriving through the depths was as likely as arriving a half hour early.
“I’m so sorry about that - I think my partner misjudged the distance a little bit. He spent the last couple of decades as a ghost and then as an orb, I don’t think he’s gotten his corporeal legs back yet.”
As if navigating himself and Morrighan to exact locations across Exandria was as simple as walking down a lane. Morrighan had it easy: all she had to do was follow him through the mists. Still, she was not wrong - he felt like an unused forgotten thing, all emotions and social cues buried under a layer of cruft. He often forgot the living could see him, and startle when they reacted to his movement. He could breathe, but did not need to. He forgot to respond to Keyleth, from time to time.
It had taken Vax some time to realize that Morrighan wasn’t fucking with him, she simply did not have any shame and did not see the use of anyone else having any, either. Once he’d realized that, she became a lot easier to bear.
That did not make her comments any less annoying.
It was probably around time that Vax got off the ground and did something. Vax pulled his knees up, then tried to flip over onto his feet, but they slipped out again and he found himself being held up by the drow. He was shorter than Vax by a couple of inches but was able to lift him with ease. The drow looked up into Vax’s eyes, searching - seeing if he was all right, Vax realized belatedly, and Vax managed a curt nod before the drow stepped away, almost losing his footing on the slickness.
Not wanting to risk any more humiliation, Vax willed his body to the cavern entrance, slipping under this reality to another, less friction-based one.
The drow saw him, shrugged in apparent good nature, then made his way carefully through the gore. Morrighan followed, appearing to have no trouble at all, even in her ridiculous thigh high stiletto heeled boots.
“Bars in Kymal,” she said, a little smug. “You’ve got to get used to walking through whatever.”
It turned out they weren’t that far underneath the surface, and the drow knocked hard on the gates in a complicated pattern before they swung open. It was a bright night, and there was a contingent of incredibly fancy mostly-drow that stood watching them.
Oh, and an entire squadron of soldiers with weapons trained at the entrance they were standing within.
The drow - the one that had led them up; Vax really should have asked for his name while there was only one of them - shouted something in Undercommon to the soldiers. A drow woman whose entire being screamed ‘wealth’ and ‘importance’ at him, in a way that reminded Vax unpleasantly of Syngorn, asked him something.
Vax leaned over to Morrighan and muttered, “Do you speak Undercommon?”
“Only a little, Opal taught me a little after she started hearing whispers in her head. I think he told the soldiers to stand down, and ...”
“Mother, these are the representatives from the Raven Queen,” their drow companion said, gesturing in their direction and turning to face them, but careful to make sure his back was not facing his mother and their compatriots. Vax recognized the look of court manners despite himself.
“Ah, that explains the tone,” Morrighan said, just low enough for only Vax to hear - hopefully. Then much louder, she said “Thank you for having us - I am Morrighan Ferrus, this is Vax’ildan Vessar. My partner noticed a few driders on our way here and took a slight detour - we didn’t mean to alarm you.”
The wealthy drow woman stepped forward and inclined her head in greeting. “Yes, when one’s lands include those on an active opening, one must be careful. Vax’ildan - I am glad that the mission to rescue you was a success. I am the Umavi Deirta Thelyss, this is the Dusk Captain Quana Kryn, and the Umavi Abrianna Mirimm. You have met my son, I see. I will assume he has made all necessary introductions with the courtesy that you are due-”
The Thelyss scion made a face at that.
“- He is the Taskhand here and will be your principal liaison. We are here to discuss the terms and requirements of your assistance.”
It was largely grandstanding, and being dead had not improved Vax’s patience for ritual. There was some basic information they already knew - highlighting Kryn history, the history of the Luxon. Then there was a feast, and Vax was seated in the middle of a long barracks dining table hastily made up with spider silk, flanked by Luxon clerics for conversation partners.
He did not need to eat any more than he needed to breathe. He did not ever feel hunger, nor the satisfaction of a large meal after a hard day’s work. But it put people at ease if he ate, so he tried his best. Taste being largely an academic affair helped in moments like these; he was able to recognize the food as exceedingly different from those he grew up with, but it was just as easy to stomach.
Nobody expected much from either of them in the way of conversation, and if Morrighan exceeded expectations, while Vax was the dour and silent haunting that they may have expected, so be it. When the Umavis and their retinue left, Vax would have sworn that he saw everyone’s shoulders lower a centimeter. The noise level immediately increased.
The Taskhand bounded over a few seconds later, “It’s Verin, sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier but thanks for not letting my mother know I forgot. I also didn’t realize you were Vax. Hi, I’ve heard about you - just a little bit. I was on an airship during the big battle but it went down when you were an orb. I’m fine, clearly.”
Vax managed a nod and a greeting. His voice still sounded gravel-rough from disuse, but nobody winced when he opened his mouth.
“I also met Keyleth. Of the Air Ashari - it feels weird to call her by her first name, but she also only has one. I met your wife. She’s great - I mean, you know that, but I was really impressed with her.”
Another man - a hobgoblin of some sort with a drink in one hand, clapped Verin on the back and leaned over with a leer. “Yeah, he was real impressed with her, if you know what I mean.”
Vax may be a few decades out of practice with socializing, but even he could recognize someone implying that someone wanted to have sex with his wife.
There was a silent pause, where the hobgoblin suddenly realized that he wasn’t joking about it with a fellow soldier, but with the revenant champion of a foreign god of death - and worse, a superior officer.
“Well, it’s something we both have in common.” Vax managed.
Verin let out a nervous chuckle. “Anyway, My, uh, liaison - Seth Domade, he’s with the Cobalt Soul - he said I should probably not ask the Headmaster too many questions, but you had to live among them, would you mind?”
Vax smiled, and even though it was intentional, he did not think it felt ghastly on his face. “It would be my pleasure.”
It was, and he spent those early hours being gladly peppered with questions. It was overwhelming, yes, but Verin didn’t seem to mind when he gave one-word answers or only shrugged in response. Verin also didn’t know to expect anything different than a brick wall, so Vax didn’t feel the need to pretend. It helped, and then made him feel guilty about finding it easier to talk to a stranger than his wife or his sister.
It would get easier, he was sure. In time.
The alcohol probably helped, too.
“It’s just that - look. You met my mother. She’s old,” Verin stopped Vax before he could even think to reply, “No, like. Old old. About twelve hundred years, give or take. You ever meet anyone who lived to be that old before?”
Vax smiled humorlessly. “Define living.”
“Okay. Fair. But like. She’s older than most people - even elves - could imagine being, maybe older than your god - no offense - and isn’t likely to stop any time soon. She’s old and important.” It took Verin a couple attempts to get that last word out, but Vax didn’t hold it against him.
“She’s not only the Umavi, but she’s one of the top three most powerful people in the Dynasty. Everyone in our den is also hundreds of years old and on their second or third or fifth lifetimes. And then it’s just me and my only a couple of years older brother, and we were new souls and babies - fetuses! - in their minds, but we were going to end up being consecuted and ages-old. Or that was the plan for us both anyway; it’s just me now. I’m the only one I know who is my age and on my first lifetime and going to have more than one - lots of people here are going to die before they reach the age I am now.”
“How old are you?” Vax asked automatically.
“One hundred and twenty-five, but that’s not important. I was younger when this started, don’t interrupt,” Verin waggled a finger in Vax’s general direction. “But then I heard stories about Vox Machina killing Vecna and whatever, and they mention the Ashari. And their leaders also end up living a long time, and have to prove themselves as well. So it sounds like us, but also - not. Less layers. But maybe more lonely? So I tried to do a lot of reading - Essek was so weirded out by that - only there isn’t much about the Ashari.”
After a minute, Vax realized that Verin was looking at him, waiting for a reaction. He grunted in a way he hoped was affirmative.
“So it’s not just Keyleth, is what I’m saying. “
“Not just Keyleth.” Vax couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t blame Verin for being taken with her, but it was fun to watch him squirm.
Verin sputtered, turning a delightful shade of dark purple. “I can’t help it if I have eyes!”
Once upon a time, Vax had fallen in love easily, laughed easily, had been quick to anger and quick to show affection. His sister might have been more flirtatious than he was, but she’d used it as armor. Vax meant it, every single time. Now it often felt like hunger - he felt the ghost of it, or perhaps an ache. He had to try to remember to connect those emotions with a smile.
The laugh that escaped him right then was a rusty, squawking thing, a not quite human sound and nothing like his old laugh. Yet it still startled everyone else around - him most of all.
He thinks the old Vax would have fallen hard for Verin.
They continued on for a while yet, with more and more people stumbling off or simply sleeping where they were. Eventually, someone came in and shouted that they had four hours until they were back on shift, which even Vax could figure out was his cue to leave. He decided it would be best if he and Morrighan exited through the front gates, if only to avoid startling the stragglers, drunken but still armed.
“You know - small community, lots of caregivers, well protected - sounds like a great place to raise a child. Or a god.” Morrighan commented as they left the mess.
Vax only grunted in response. He hadn’t realized she’d been listening in, and felt overexposed because of it.
“I’m not going to ask if you’ve asked her yet, because I know the answer is no. But you should ask, because I’m going to continue to harass you until you do,” Morrighan said reasonably.
Vax nodded once, feeling the levity of the night already slipping from his grasp. “I will.”
Then, before Morrighan could try to get any more details out of him, he let himself slip into the mists.
Getting to Zephrah was only a matter of traveling through the eddies left by ravens he’d sent; desire paths worn down from the days when he was forbidden by his Mistress to visit his lady. It felt like it only took a few seconds to travel across all of Exandria, and he emerged in a swirl of dark feathers into their bedroom.
Keyleth started, but recovered faster than she used to. She quickly went in for a hug and a kiss, holding Vax for a second too long, her grip just a little too tight. It always was, these days.
He let her hold him, feeling her heart slow and willing his to beat in time, before slowly pushing back far enough to look at her face. “How long have I been gone?”
“Only about half a day - I was asleep for most of it,” Keyleth assured him.
Vax felt something within him unclench. What felt like moments on the Ethereal Plane would sometimes be hours or days, and sometimes he would come back to find no time had passed at all. He was unused to caring about time, and found it came about naturally as swallowing - which is to say, not at all.
He just didn’t want to cause any more pain.
“How did it go? Did they put you to work immediately?” Keyleth asked.
“No, they mostly talked at me. Why do you ask?”
Keyleth gestured to her front, which was imprinted with half-dried ichor. He’d forgotten about it, and then checked to look at his front to see if it was visible. Luckily, the black covered everything.
“There was a small mishap when we got there. Nothing too important,” Vax said, then quickly changed the subject before Keyleth could ask any follow-up questions. “I met a fan.”
“Of you?”
Vax smiled, a slight lifting of the corner of his mouth, but one he barely had to try for. “Of you.”
“Oh? Wait - the Kryn captain?”
“Yes - he said you’d met.”
Keyleth smiled broadly, and Vax’s heart lightened a little to see it. “He was very sweet. Confusing, but sweet. He had me sign a book? I’d never heard of it. I looked it up later - it was okay? I never really got poetry.”
“We talked - he seemed to admire you.”
“Yeah, he seemed ... sweet,” Keyleth said, looking like she’d tried to fish any other word out of a pouch, but still picked the same one. She blushed and looked away for a second before straightening. “So you think you’ll be able to work with them? No problems?”
“Cleaning out cultists and monsters? Just like old times. And it will allow me to be closer.”
“It’s strange to think of the far side of Wildemount as close.”
“You know what I mean.” It was easier for him to keep track of time if he was just walking through the planes and not attending to his other duties, easier for him to sneak over to Whitestone and Zephrah from time to time.
“I do,” Keyleth agreed, and her voice was rough and quiet.
Vax squeezed her hands and closed his eyes. He wanted to be the person she loved again. With time, the cruft and hard shell would fall away. He had to believe it.