An Immortal Curiousity

Tonight, there is no gentle transition. We arrive in the Library of the Arcanamirium, where Vivian Orion sits behind the clerks desk, fingers tapping nervously on the wood. Standing in opposition, the Wizard King tilts his head, a soft smile on his lips, scanning the Tiefling with his many-colored eye.

Kesil: “An interesting name, Orion. What is the origin?”

Vivian’s brow furrows, followed by a shake of the head.

Vivian: “I don’t know, actually… I never really knew my family. What’s your interest?”

Kesil shrugs.

Kesil: “When you get as old as I do, you pick up an interest in history. Anyways…”

Kesil’s fake smile drops away, and his gaze turns directly to our camera, time freezes, and Vivian is left frozen with it, fingers mid-tap.

Kesil: “Gonjo? No… But you reek of him. Not Flint, either.”

The Haze squeals, attempting to pull back, but is held by the wizard’s glare.

Kesil: “Ahh. One of Raemus’ boys. Zandarul. So Arcturus at last oversteps… Begone, I have no interest in your spying.”

The wizard waves a hand, and the dream shatters, rebuked by Kesil’s sheer will.