Stardust & Mirrors

Guild Wars 2 Role-playing blog & thoughts of Neil Bryland, Soldier in the Ebon Vanguard, and the son of a better man.

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Trapped in his own mind, his body still remembered her touch. Like a fiery beacon in the night, he moved towards the flames.

[stardustandmirrors]

He had been shot. At least that was what he remembered before Meera’s terrified visage faded as consciousness left him. He remembered the sun still being in the sky yet a chill had begun to set in as he felt his mind sinking away.

The whisper of death grazed his thoughts but amidst the void he stopped sinking.  Meera’s voice and the sounds of combat blending into a distant murmur.

Had he died?

He wasn’t certain, as the question echoed in the dark for what seemed like an eternity. For a time things became quiet, thoughts of Meera entering his mind, wondering if shielding her was enough, whether she and their unborn child survived.

Doubt swirled around him like nightmare. He tried to will himself to swim up out of the inky darkness but he found himself unable to move. He counted minutes, unto hours. Hours, unto days it felt as he wondered if he could escape.

In the dark he despaired, and felt himself sink further. Details beginning to blur away as the chill crept closer. Then something had changed.

Somewhere in the void he could hear her voice. The chill had faded away, replaced by a gentle warmth, like sunlight  slipping past the folds of a curtain.

A hand had taken his, and he no longer felt himself falling.

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“He’s alive.”

Neil Bryland’s injuries were near fatal, too close a call for anyone’s comfort. The bullet missed the drumming heart by mere inches, but lack of blood loss kept him in an elongated state of unresponsive repose.  During the days that should have been reserved for their honeymoon, Meera instead stood silent vigil over him, stoic and wan and as dedicated as ever.

Many of the healers gave words of comfort.

“…He could come around any day now… “

“…He’s seems to be improving with you here, Meera…”

Their encouragements meant little to her, but still she remained, taking on most of the caregiving duties she felt obligated to give, both out of loyalty to her wedding vows and an endless love for the comatose figure.

Meera recalled the events that followed the wedding with vivid clarity, replaying them within her mind. Each review would start with a tweak in detail, changes that brought about a different story. A different ending.

“If Natalya Antares hadn’t been there… if she had been a moment late… would he still be here?”

Mostly, she took it upon herself to claim responsibility for what happened. She was, after all, the one who gave the answer “yes” to his requests at a courtship and later, marriage. To open herself up to his world, and in turn, welcome him into her own, one that lashed out so viciously, was a cruel thing for her to do.

Guilt.

She was reckless. Selfish. Stubborn. Unwilling to play the game and yet surprised when she lost. But of all the people in her world, it was Neil who reveled in her untempered nature. They fed into one another like their lives depended on it, each stuck in each other’s daydream.

“We were lofting about in the clouds… and now the ground beckons.” 

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Meera had asked if he kept any evidence of his ‘pet project’ against the Castels. He smiled, noting her growing appreciation for clearing one’s tracks. He’d already set the parchment, quills, and ink aflame in a bonfire outside the walls. All that existed now were the forgeries in play.

Neil ‘knew a thing or two’ humbly put about sliding beneath the gaze of anyone looking. Being well known as a man who took nothing seriously, also didn’t hurt.

[stardustandmirrors]

The long game takes patience, planning, plausible deniability, and knowing what your adversary is capable of. Neil had all four in good supply. The Castels were a well to do house, Severin and Cerise’s father was a well respected businessman with a good eye for trade and the aptitude to steer his family around trouble, traits that Neil suspected hadn’t passed entirely to his children.

Severin was actually competent in managing, but relied more on what he knew worked, and rarely deviated from strategy, making him a touch predictable and safe in how he oversaw the family business. Cerise  had better instincts but was impulsive and as subtle as an cave troll. If the two of them weren’t trying to fight each other, Neil believed they’d do well keeping the house in a good direction, but potentials weren’t his concern with the Castels. This was personal.

Whoever coined the phrase stating that revenge was a dish best served cold had a good eye for the grand game given the implications. The Castels were a respected house, and while the ones next in line might not have their father’s eye for planning there were precautions set into place to ensure the house’s survival.

In influence, there was little he could do to a Reach family without asking favors that usually came from nagging Jaina. This wasn’t an option, and he wasn’t about to try starting a trade war. The Brylands were new money, not so much in trade as it was investing in infrastructure and the resources to build said infrastructure. While the idea of dropping timber on Castels was visually amusing, it wasn’t something he wished to drag the rest of the family into.

That left subterfuge, and a particular set of skills he kept mum even while working for the Duke. Neil had the idea in this situation for an indirect attack. He’d already put Severin in a bit of a pickle sabotaging what was poised as a very ‘safe’ wine investment, that left him at odds with Cerise whom had taken it upon herself to go on a not so subtle search for one Yancey Von Buttersworth.

Severin was the vulnerable chink in the armor of House Castel, and he only needed to make the man’s business decisions look questionable to cause his younger sister to bite at the opportunity to try and supplant him. His acquisition of the old Beoulve Estate was his idea strong arming Meera into an arranged marriage. He had to move considerable assets in a short period of time to make the purchase and fortunately for Neil that meant cutting corners.

The estate itself changed hands over the years, the Tristelles were supposed to steward over the property until Meera’s disappearance made matters complicated. With no heirs claiming it, it was sold for the trouble, sold again and left more or less in disrepair, eventually landing itself in the hands of a particularly gluttonous land broker by the name of Bellamy, working out of Lion’s Arch.

The man made a living sitting on properties that were contested, whose original ownership was in question, acting as a ‘steward’ where the law was concerned. Neil’s method of play would involve simply pushing Bellamy’s reputation a few inches so that he might teeter on the edge, and in turn give Severin a more poignant lesson in why his father never made hasty business decisions.

The play required stripping away Bellamy’s facade of legitimacy. The land deeds he possessed were legal, however the methods in which he preyed on vulnerable individuals, were questionable at best. Neil was intent not on just sabotaging the deed to Meera’s family home, but to taint enough of Bellamy’s deeds that one disputed home easily gets lost amidst a dozen disputed land deals. Bellamy looks as though he simply got sloppy, while Severin takes a financial hit for trusting a shady land broker.

The risk in this ploy involved stealing and switching out deeds with forgeries with the intent of those forgeries being discovered. Sneaking in to get a look at the deeds Bellamy had on hand was simple for an illusionist, but forgeries took time.

Finding the properly aged parchment, the same ink, quill style, then the practice of replicated the signing notary’s hand writing, as well as the hand writing of people both alive and dead. It was a great deal of work usually best done with a team, but for this Neil wanted none of this to come back to Meera, and so he kept it as his pet project for the past few months.

He understood how much her childhood home meant to her, and Severin holding it cast a shadow that she’d never truly be able to shake if he kept it. This Neil couldn’t abide, and so he plotted, he forged, he sneaked, and used every skill he’d learned and been honed to use in the name of Ebonhawke, for his wife to be instead.

In a certain perspective, Neil might consider devising the infrastructure of the Castel’s financial meltdown a masterpiece in itself. He had no intentions on the land itself, Brylands wouldn’t really have any use for a Krytan property. Neil had only considered doing this to lift the remaining shadow that Severin held over her, even if he wouldn’t be taking any public credit for the task.

Seeing her happy. That was worth all the trouble in the world.

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She was desperate to help Delita at the time. Neil couldn’t help but play up the idea that he was setting her up with some drooling lazy oaf. The amusing part was simply repeating insults his public persona garnered. She looked devastated but still agreed to it.

When he told her that he was the self-described oaf, her eyes ignited up like an inferno and for once in the time that he knew her, she smiled and lit up the room. In a moment he forgot the reason why he’d come in the first place. He was supposed to recruit her. He wasn’t certain now if he could, much less what he’d gotten into.

[stardustandmirrors]

Under normal circumstances Neil had never really needed to play the game. The times he did usually involved work for the Duke which gave him a certain degree of freedom when it came to dealing with Ascalonian nobility.

The backlash from the party Jaina had held was within the expected parameters. Jaina was ‘upset’ in the sense that things hadn’t gone according to plan, which Neil suspected was ingratiating himself with her toadies in the Reach. Some potential business lost? Perhaps, but in the scheme of Bryland family priorities it had barely registered. Neil’s father Vaughan hadn’t gambled the family’s assets on connections after all, he invested it in land, lumber mills, and potential infrastructure in territory far out of reach of Krytan hands.

If anything Meera reacted in an utterly endearing manner, he was quite aware of Cerise’s intentions from the first time she crossed into Ebonhawke to ‘visit’ him. It was hardly subtle, and her intentions for trying to break up his engagement to Meera were practically transparent at this point in the play.

Aside from Cerise’s face, nothing else changed when Meera sucker punched her. Neil’s own play was already in motion and it didn’t involve anyone at that party besides Meera. Cerise would have her ‘victory’, she’d pout and gain sympathy from those who already pay her lip service. Neil would be told that he wasn’t taking the matter of reputation seriously as always and they’d carry on like usual.

The only regret he had was seeing Meera unhappy, thinking that she was disappointing him in some fashion or another. She hadn’t, and by the end of the evening he had made certain that she knew.

Politically Meera gave him nothing, no influence, no leverage, no position of power. She had no land, no resources, and could barely keep her job without being discharged. She was impulsive, and had a short fuse for a temper. Everything that was the antithesis of etiquette and nobility, and Neil loved all of it.

He wouldn’t have her any other way.

[stardustandmirrors]

Sugar and sweets.

A curious request on Meera’s part, but one that Neil took it upon himself to page through his repertoire of recipes for ideas. In the last week Meera seems to have caught some manner of seasonal illness which made her taste in food very particular. His usual trend of savory meals was causing a bit of nausea and while a part of him wanted to audit the ingredients of his last meal preparation, he had a feeling it was a bit more complicated than that. Hence his current situation.

He had finished thinly slicing a number of apples, the puff pastry dough was properly rolled out and cut into strips. The most pressing issue in this moment was deciding on the type of flavor Meera might prefer. In the end he folded in strawberry preserves into some of the rose tarts, apricots preserves into others, and peach preserves into the remaining tarts.

The entire process took the better part of an hour, but the end result would be worth it. The honey glaze he brushed atop gave the tarts the desired shine, and the final dusting of powdered sugar finished the array of ‘flowers’ quite nicely.

The rest was simple arrangement and presentation, Meera would wake soon and he had little intention of letting her wake without a delectable breakfast tray to greet her. By the time he ascended the stairs to their shared room he was already thinking on other sugary ideas for the coming weeks.

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The petite blonde awoke to the surprise, groggily and dazed from sleep at first. Once her amber eyes were rubbed nearly raw, they adjusted with a delighted sort of gleam to them. The assortment of delectables were like a work of art, not to mention appetizing in appearance alone.

Her mouth salivated. An involuntary lick of her lower lip gave her hunger away as she hoisted herself into a seated position, careful to adjust the covers over her in an attempt at modesty. 

She tested out the peach preserves one first, shoving the whole thing down her gullet in one fell swoop. Chewing loudly, she barely had time to swallow the first one before going to down another.

“Mmmuh guuhhh,” was as about as intelligible as the words would get as she busied with stuffing her face full.

Neil’s baking skills were a clear success in satiating her cravings.

[stardustandmirrors]

Sugar and sweets.

A curious request on Meera’s part, but one that Neil took it upon himself to page through his repertoire of recipes for ideas. In the last week Meera seems to have caught some manner of seasonal illness which made her taste in food very particular. His usual trend of savory meals was causing a bit of nausea and while a part of him wanted to audit the ingredients of his last meal preparation, he had a feeling it was a bit more complicated than that. Hence his current situation.

He had finished thinly slicing a number of apples, the puff pastry dough was properly rolled out and cut into strips. The most pressing issue in this moment was deciding on the type of flavor Meera might prefer. In the end he folded in strawberry preserves into some of the rose tarts, apricots preserves into others, and peach preserves into the remaining tarts.

The entire process took the better part of an hour, but the end result would be worth it. The honey glaze he brushed atop gave the tarts the desired shine, and the final dusting of powdered sugar finished the array of ‘flowers’ quite nicely.

The rest was simple arrangement and presentation, Meera would wake soon and he had little intention of letting her wake without a delectable breakfast tray to greet her. By the time he ascended the stairs to their shared room he was already thinking on other sugary ideas for the coming weeks.

[stardustandmirrors]

He wasn’t looking for perfect. He was looking for her. Just the way she was.

[stardustandmirrors]

The Lyon-Moot. Something that had begun as a joke among cousins wasn’t something they could predict would become a bit of a tradition. Growing up in Ebonhawke was different than anywhere else. The edge of the world was defined by a wall, and beyond it were the monsters that wanted to creep out from under your bed to drag you off into the night. The reality was less dramatic but not all too far from the bedtime stories.

Ascalons had been at war with the charr for the greater part of two millennia. We grew up on the tales of King Doric, Prince Rurik, King Adelbern. Of Gwen, the Thackerays, the Ebon Vanguard at their adventures in the north. As children we’d been rather fascinated with the idea of giant norn facing down monsters in single combat, and so whenever we had gotten together we called it a moot.

The last time we called one together.. Acheron had made the decision to strip Meilong of her name. Strange how something they’d formed together had taken such a darker turn. Of course it wasn’t without its context, Meilong had after all ran away to join the pact, only returning years later without even a word and expecting everything to remain the same. Unsurprising given how much uncle doted on her.

Today however was the first in perhaps two years that their little gathering would be called. There was some apprehension given what happened last time, but he wasn’t planning on backing out. This was his family, and two years was a long time for them to be avoiding each other.

The De’Lyon family line was old, and probably branched out in more ways than one. Most of those filtering into the room all shared a common pair of maternal great grandparents in Gregory and Nora De’Lyon with the exception of Tara and Torin De’Lyon who shared a great grand parents with Neil’s paternal side.

In summary, the line was extensive, complicated, and yet they all managed to get along quite nicely barring coup prone cousins. Most of everyone had shown up, barring the few that were under arrest for being accomplices to Acheron, and one Annie Laval who was serving in the Vigil and otherwise predisposed to more ‘world threatening’ matters than family gatherings.

Normally it was a De’Lyon summoning everyone, given that they were the dominant house but after Acheron’s passing and Meilong’s marriage to the Harlow, the unofficial ‘head’ of the house fell to the youngest De’Lyon, Benji whose position Neil did not envy given the mess Acheron had left him. That left the second strongest house in the line, the Brylands.

It was strange seeing how much had changed. Where Acheron and Meilong would be the ones standing at the head in their golden Lyon armor, Neil stood in silver. His first cousin Saul stood to his right, and Meilong sans armor stood at his left wearing the Harlow colors, and looking much more reserved.

There was a certain weight hanging in the air as everyone took a seat or place. Empty chairs speaking up more than any words needed to. Neil took a long breath.

“Thank you all for gathering, its... been quite a while. Too long I think and I’ll admit that I hadn’t expected to be the one calling it.”

“And the reason for calling it?” A voice piped up from across the room with just the right amount of sass. Celene McKenzie, 2nd cousin, and unfortunate recipient of a many juvenile Bryland pranks.

Excellent start. Neil considered given his public reputation of not taking anything seriously, now when he wanted to be serious he was now expecting to get an earful. He decided to get to the point.

“A good question, long story short. I’m getting married. I’ve been courting the Vanguard Meera Beoulve, proposed and she’s accepted.” He blurted out in a ‘typical’ Neil fashion and somewhat faster than he’d liked. He could see Meilong pursing her lips at the ‘delivery’ while Saul rolled his eyes. The rest gathered, had a moment of silence that turned to shock for some, perhaps a a few indifferent looks, and some appeared to be... cursing.

“Beoulve? Isn’t her brother in exile?” Torin De’Lyon spoke up, 1st cousin his side, looked particularly serious.

“Yes, one in the same.” Neil confirmed, leading to a small flurry of discussion going about between his cousins.

“A little wild given your tastes Neil. Certainly you didn’t need to make another prank just to gather us together?” Celene spoke up again as they were all talking among themselves.

“I’m serious Celene, everyone quiet down for just a moment.” He spoke without much effect, He looked to Saul briefly who shrugged, before turning to Meilong with a somewhat pleading look. She lofted a brow before exhaling and taking a breath before barking out using her ‘drill’ voice. 

“Everyone quiet!” Torin and those closest visible winced covering their ears, other cousins who were active vanguard found themselves standing at attention, while the rest did ask asked, attention on the Harlow matron. “Allow Neil to finish.”

“Thanks mom.” He spoke with a jovial smile, earning him a sharp elbow, and a few chuckles from the rest of those present. “Right, I’m serious about my proposal as uncharacteristic as it might appear. I enjoy Meera’s company and after coming to know her I’ve come to care a great deal for her. There are concerns I know but my engagement is not something I will negotiate. The rest I want to talk over with you all... so questions?”

“Are you certain? Given her reputation. Harlow seems to discharge her every other week...” Torin spoke looking over at Meilong pensively a moment.

“My husband discharges a lot of people... often times for their own good. Don’t take it at face value Torin. She is a good person, impulsive at times but good. I know because I served with her, and drilled her while I was still active. Why do you seem so concerned?” Meilong queried back in an even tone.

“Because he’d be losing a hundred sovereign bet with Archer that Neil would be marrying a ginger Krytan.” Tara piped up looking over at her brother who looked less concerned and now simply disgruntled.

Neil, felt some relief over the underlying reasons giving Torin an amused look. “Well.. in fairness it was probably a safe bet. This wasn’t planned per say but I am committed to her.”

Torin sighed and nodded offering a smirk finally and a glare at Archer across the room. “I suppose I don’t really have any concerns then.”

“Bets all aside, wouldn’t her brother still be a bit of concern even in exile? Our reputation hasn’t... taken a smooth road these past years after all. I trust us not.. to start another succession crisis but I’m unsure over her kin.” Archer spoke up for once.

“Her brother is in exile for taking revenge on those responsible for her father’s murder. Its.. not good but don’t tell me we haven’t done worse. We just have the benefit of family in the right places in the court and on the captain’s circle. She cares about him and his family, and I have no reason to believe he’d try anything here in Ebonhawke.” Neil replied, finding the answers coming with surprising ease.

“Fair enough. Suppose the court has pardoned folks for worse. He wanting to come back to the city?”

“That I’m unsure of, I know it would mean a lot to her if he did and Kryta seems to be driving itself towards another civil war. For once being on this side of the gate might actually be safer.” Neil considered, as a few thoughtful discussions seemed to spark about the room.

“Could put them up in one of the bivouacs if you want to be more discreet. There’s always new settlers out there and if its one of settlements any of us have land on there wouldn’t be any questions asked.” Celene spoke up with some insight.

“That actually is quite thoughtful. Thank you Celene. Uh... was there anyone else with a concern?” Neil looked around, and everyone simply shook their heads or shrugged before breaking off into individual discussions. Looking to Meilong again she simply offered what looked like a nod of approval before she herself went to join some of their cousins.

Neil smiled to himself looking to Saul this time who looked as dour as usual. “You alright Saul? You didn’t say anything.”

Saul shook his head exhaling. “I lost the same bet with Archer too.”

Neil just grinned widely. Definitely better than expected.

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It had taken some time, but eventually the two managed to scrounge together enough focus to discuss what Natalya had offered to Meera. His own opinion differed on the matter, part of him didn’t want to see her in any danger, yet on the other hand he understood that it might be the type of job she would thoroughly enjoy. The latter he felt he could give Delita credit for, as unorthodox as the man’s training methods were, he’d done much for the city without anyone ever knowing.

Neil was comfortable in this position. Understanding that worrying over her well being was fine, but finding something she might be happy doing was just as important. He wasn’t interested in coddling her, and he had the sense of mind to know that she’d probably give him a very cross glare if she felt like he was trying.

As he continued explaining what his duties were under Natalya, for once he could gleam Meera’s eyes lighting up as she pieced together the ‘bigger picture’ that Ebonhawke faced, Where seemingly pointless orders from headquarters might originate, and how the regiments worked together. If anything he felt she might have a greater appreciation for what Sin has to work with on a daily basis.

Meera wasn’t one who liked being kept in the dark. Ironic given at this very moment she was on a couch next to Neil, a man who’s entire profession relied on keeping others in the dark. He never quite trusted anyone, even with family he only trusted them to an extent, and never with what he truly felt, nor his actual aspirations. Meera on the other hand he could trust without question, and he felt utterly liberated.

They’d spent the evening discussing what she could expect from the job before the mere presence of each other diverted their brief string of productivity. If there was another thing that Meera could be known for, it would be for all times she’s tried to apologize. Tonight was one of those times, and there was a sudden timidity in her expression and movements.

Doubt and fear. A part of her still wasn’t accustomed to this, the idea of longevity, faith, loyalty may as well be abstract facets from the Mists to her.

She has spoken that she would follow him anywhere, and he teased her in response asking if she were propositioning him.

“More metaphorical... but the idea grows more tempting. Even if it’s just for one night.” She had replied, meaning well but the context had pulled at his heartstrings. ‘Metaphorical’ and ‘one night’ weren’t words he’d associate with how he felt about her, yet she had spoken them all the same.

Doubt and fear. Neil Bryland had none in this moment. When he left the Wolf’s Shrine in the Shiverpeaks, he had already decided what he wanted to do. It was only a matter of waiting for the right moment. He had found it tonight.

“And.. if it wasn’t metaphorical, and it wasn’t just for a night?” He spoke to her, words responding to a very different context that she would initially catch.

“What are you getting at, Neil Bryland? Are you suggesting we just pack our bags and leave for good?” She queried, lofting her brow and leaning away as her eyes searched his expression for answers.

Reaching up to his collar, his hand grasped the ring he’d been wearing since he returned home. He had kept it close so as to not lose it, and so its presence would be a reminder. The band felt heavier as he ripped it from the necklace, bearing more than just the weight of metal and gems.

“I’m not suggesting that at all Meera. You’ll never be just one night to me.” He spoke with certainty, even if she looked like she might bolt when her expression became unreadable.

“Is that... what is that?” She croaked in response, and a more devious side of him wanted to revel in his ability to throw her off guard.

“It’s something I’d like to slip onto your finger... do right by you, and go on that adventure.. together if you’d let me.” He continued, holding the band up to her eyes.

Meera had forgotten to breath as her mouth hung open, amber eyes starting to brim with tears before she reached up to cover her mouth.

“You bastard!” She choked on the words, and he canted his head accepting the insult. He was certainly a bastard, likely a little to proud of the fact.

“A sneaky bastard at least.” He couldn’t resist uttering a quip before he finished the words he wanted to convey.

“You’re not a metaphor, I don’t want you to be a chapter when I turn the page. Meera, will you marry me?”

Either of them could have ended this months ago, she probably could of ended this tonight if she wished. Neil never regretted any of his actions, and tonight with his cards on the table he certainly wasn’t going to stop. Meera was still here, she came back for him even if she hadn’t quite understood why. Neil did, and it was a matter much more complex and foreign to her.

It was a matter of commitment.  

[stardustandmirrors]

[stardustandmirrors]

The day hadn’t gone all according to plan. Najoki had decided to play another one of her pranks, which resulted in his shirt finding its way up a flag pole by the citadel. On a normal day he might just climb the pole to bring it back down but he’d exhausted himself in the training yard, and wasn’t interested in playing the woman’s games.

Suffice to say, he decided to just drop by the barracks to pick up a spare. At least until he walked into a flustered Meera on her way out with said spare. He wasn’t the only one looking like they’ve had a long day, given how she was fuming.

Their routine wasn’t something she was accustomed to. The brief, but murderous look on Meera’s face made that all apparent. An amorous embrace calmed her enough so that he could deduce the source of the evening’s fury.

Liline, being her innocent, helpful, and doe eyed self managed evoke something in Meera that even he hadn’t quite experienced. Jealousy. The implication of which felt flattering given that he was accustomed to being left in previous relations.

Meera Beoulve was jealous, and she reacted the only way she knew how. Neil found it completely adorable.

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After the stress of donning a mask to entertain Lady Cerise Castel, as well as the day spent on the training grounds, Meera felt it appropriate to treat Neil to a long bath.

If jealousy was a newfound feeling, then the desire to tend to one’s emotional needs was also groundbreaking. What she didn’t expect was to actually enjoy such a thing.