Some week or so before the events of Malicious Concoction, Korvynn had a night he spent staring up into the darkness, at the tall attic of a house that wasn't his. Nor did he know the owner. But he knew someone important was in there. Someone that changed things.They weren't coming down, no matter how long his eyes permeated their icy pale, grayish chill to the upper loft, pleading for a window to open. Wanting one more glance, it wasn't happening. Not tonight.
His eyes turned down and he walked off. He wasn't sure where until he arrived, a short pier around the edge of Big Staddlemere, a mostly underwhelming and seldom observed lake. There was not much natural beauty here, not like Everclear Lakes or Starmere even further. Just water surrounded by rocks and reeds and...
And he sits on the edge of it, unlatching his pole-arm to set it beside him. He knew only why he carried such a bulky thing around. It inherited the name of his best friend, his father, when he passed.
Korvynn's legs dangled, the tips of his boots in free air skipped over the water, involuntarily. His mind went back to it, to every conversation he had, as if he could identify a moment where he said something wrong. Even with no evidence to suggest. That person...that one in the attic...they kept agreeing to meet with him, sharing their moments of privacy with him. They kept coming around. Why did it somehow feel like he could find something wrong if he tried hard enough?
"I think I finally understand, father." He says, more to himself, than anyone. He can even hear his father's voice in response ringing in his head, 'Do you, son? Do you finally?'
He laughs at the thought. Wherever death takes his loved ones, time and time again, they were probably all there laughing. Somehow omnipotent to him, and what he thinks he finally gets. He's laughing with them.
"Just like you, father..." He trails off and his mind goes to the attic again. The ruins. The cloak, and all these other quiet, private moments shared. His chest muscles all tense deep within, like his lungs want to stop breathing, and the starlight bounces off the lake into his eyes, lighting them up. He frowns. Just like his father.
He hopes.
