Chapter 16: Crossroads

Once he was outside of Lion’s Arch, Quint Blackwell finally felt like he could breathe again. The noise and bustle of city life was loud and distracting, with so many people coming and going. It often felt overwhelming to him. He much preferred the hushed sounds of the wind tousling the leaves and long grass without a person in sight. His missions hadn’t always allowed for the escape from highly inhabited areas, so he relished the opportunity now—even though it came with consequences. He breathed in the scents of pine and fresh air deeply with a reignited appreciation.

As he passed by an old pine, he pulled off a long, sturdy branch to use as a walking stick. Michi waddled alongside, her tail swishing back and forth in the tall grass. Quint kept the two of them off of the main road for their journey. It meant it would take longer and would likely be more strenuous, but they would remain out of sight and make it challenging for any who might be trying to follow. Instead of taking the crossing at Lionbridge Expanse, he decided to brave through the Lawen Ponds. It was a mire of weeds, mud, and shallow water, as well as a hotspot of Risen creatures. It wasn’t ideal, but neither was getting caught. Ultimately, the Risen proved to not be much of an issue anyway. As long as the two of them stayed at enough of a distance and outside their visual range, the undead creatures didn’t engage.

The two eventually turned north when they were safely west of the heavily populated Ascalon Settlement. The plan was to stop in Nebo Terrace for a night before continuing on. His mentor and friend, Arlo Hayes, lived there in a small home after retiring from the Order of Whispers. It had been nearly six months since the last time Quint had visited, but Arlo had insisted from day one he was always welcome at any time. Much had changed since the last time he had seen his mentor, and he wanted to visit one last time before disappearing into the world. He owed Arlo that much.

Rolling green hills eventually gave way to a small plateau where Nebo Terrace had been built. Because it was so close to centaur territory, it had to be constantly guarded from periodical siege by the quadrupeds. Why in all of Tyria Arlo decided to settle there, Quint did not completely understand. After decades of missions with the Order, he thought Arlo would prefer to retire someplace quiet, but his mentor insisted he was happy there. Perhaps the old warrior found it hard to give up old habits.

As Quint neared the gates, he pulled his cloak’s hood further down over his head to hide his face. He wasn’t sure if there were any agents working this area, so disguising his identity was critical. Two armed Seraph guards eyed him warily as he approached, but eventually waved him through the gates. Quint assumed their criteria was mostly based on the number of legs a traveler had. Lucky for him he only had two, and Michi was most certainly not a centaur. He breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the village. They would be safe here—at least for the night.

He made his way past soldiers and merchants toward the northwest edge of the village where Arlo had selected his post-retirement home. It was a small, stand-alone dwelling made of stone and clay with a large wooden door secured with iron hinges. Moss had spread over the outer surface, giving it a greenish hue that helped it blend into the various flora growing around the home. Beside the two steps up to the door, was a pot with a Krytan Spiderwort growing tall and strong. Quint raised an eyebrow at the sight. These plants hadn’t been there the last time he visited, and he had never known Arlo to be one for gardening. He eyed the plants suspiciously, but there was nothing unusual amongst them that he could see. Hoping his friend still lived here, he knocked three times on it with his walking stick. After a few moments of no reply, Michi hissed nervously.

“He’s an old man. Give him a minute,” Quint said as he wrung his hand on his walking stick. He didn’t want to admit it, but the waiting made him a little nervous.

On the other side of the door, Quint heard shuffling and then metal scraping against metal as multiple locks were unsecured. The door only opened a few inches, and a round face covered in silver stubble, and a pair of dark eyes peered out. They brightened once they saw who was standing on the doorstep. Arlo Hayes grinned and opened the door all the way, revealing a stout older man with a balding head.

“Well, look who’s gracing my doorstep today,” he announced proudly and then looked down. “And you brought your beastie with ya. Hello there, sweet girl.”

Relieved his mentor answered and not some stranger, Quint let out the breath he just now realized he was holding and relaxed a little. Michi sniffed at the man, swishing her tail back and forth happily. He was the only person beside her master she seemed to like. Quint knew it mostly had to do with the salted fish Arlo slipped to her when they visited. She would salivate at just the mention of them.

“Come on in.” He ushered Quint and Michi inside and secured all the locks on his door.

“Five locks? You don’t think you’re overdoing it?”

Arlo chuckled. “You can never be too careful. You know that.”

“Locks won’t stop the ones who matter,” Quint noted with a smirk. He took off his cloak now he was inside and out of sight.

“But it will sure slow them down.”

Quint chuckled as he set both his pack and cloak down on the floor next to an overstuffed lounge chair. During Arlo’s retirement years, he had furnished his new home simply, but quite comfortably. Two overstuffed chairs faced each other in front of a stone fireplace with a woven rug between them. On the mantle was a polished sabre resting on a wooden rack next to a decorative clay vase. A dying fire crackled in the stone hearth. Arlo put on another quarter log, and the flames came to life again, filling the home with their warmth.

“You added some vegetation since the last time I was here,” Quint noted.

Arlo smiled proudly. “Ah, you like that? It’s the new hobby. Thought I’d spruce up the outside of this old place.”

“It looks nice,” Quint said as he nodded toward the window looking out over the side.

“Thanks,” Arlo replied as he moved the newly burning logs around with an iron poker to make sure they were burning efficiently and then leaned it against the stone fireplace. “So, what brings you out here?”

“It’s complicated.”

Arlo chuckled and gestured for Quint to have a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs. “When is it not in our line of work?”

“This one more than the rest.” He sat and watched Michi sniff around the room.

Knowing the red drake was looking for those treats she loved so much, Arlo strode across the way to a small kitchen and reached for a clay jar on a wooden shelf above the simple cooking stove. Quint noticed he still moved quickly for a man of his advanced age and was probably still training to some degree. Arlo uttered a soft, little whistle, and Michi came scuttling into the kitchen for the dried fish treat Arlo now dangled in front of her with a grin. He lowered the treat as she stretched her head up and took it gently in her large jaws. She then curled up happily on the floor with her prize and munched happily.

“I know that tone in your voice.” Wiping his hands on his woven trousers, he returned to the sitting area and sat down in the other overstuffed chair with a sigh. “What’s on your mind?”

Quint stiffened. Of everyone he knew, Arlo was one of the very few he knew he could trust with the truth in these times, but it still didn’t make it any easier to talk about. “I’ve been working under Halvora for some time now.”

“Is that stubborn old charr still in charge of missions?” Arlo chuckled as he tapped a finger on the armrest. “I swear when the day comes, an agent will find her dead on her desk, missives still in hand. I think she’d prefer it that way.”

Quint smirked. Halvora was a stubborn charr married to her work, and she was good at what she did. Her extensive experience with circumstances threatening the lives and safety of Tyria’s people had allowed her to anticipate how future situations would unfold. It made her a key player in allocating the Order of Whispers’ resources and agents to keep Tyria safe. It also made her a dangerous foe for Quint himself. Having been a former agent under her command, she had a strong grasp of his habits, his contacts, and his safe houses—at least most of them.

The two sat in silence for a moment, with only the sound of Michi rooting around the home for more treats. Quint found his mentor eyeing him suspiciously, as if he were trying to read his mind on the matter he had hinted.

“All right then,” Arlo finally said as he raised an eyebrow. “So, let’s have it. What happened?”

“I—did something that catapulted me out of Halvora’s good graces. I stole something important from her desk and derailed my entire mission.”

His mentor’s visage twisted into a mix of concern and disappointment. “You know better-“

“I know,” Quint interrupted. His knuckles started to hurt from gripping the armrest. “I know what I did, and I know what that means for me now. I figured I owed you one last visit before I get underway. If I keep moving, I may be able to stay a step ahead. I may get lucky, and they’ll get bored of me after some time when they see I’m not going to cause any trouble.”

“Maybe, but you can’t guarantee that’ll happen,” Arlo said. “What about your people? You know, the ones you’ve been living with for the past couple of years? What about your mark? Were you able to locate and deliver the artifact?”

Quint flashed Arlo a guilty look. “I did not.”

“No,” Arlo uttered as he sat back in his chair. “Why not?”

“Things changed once I got the other side of the story. There was much more to the situation than either I or the Order had considered. I had to give Nienna the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, the Order would have taken what they were after with whatever force they deemed necessary. I couldn’t guarantee an acceptable outcome with that option. They’re gone now, and I trust she and the others will—handle this themselves.”

Arlo made a thoughtful noise as he studied Quint. “Sounds like you went soft on this job.”

Quint flashed his mentor an exasperated glance. “I did not go soft. I’m being practical about the situation.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, kid. I know you,” Arlo pointed out with a little smile. “If you were being practical, you wouldn’t have stayed with them as long as you did, nor would you have enjoyed your time there. Plus, you wouldn’t have broken protocol and stolen from a Preceptor. I think practicality went out the window a while ago.”

Clasping his hands in his lap, Quint bowed his head and let out a sharp sigh. Arlo wasn’t wrong. This had meant to be his last mission before retiring. Everything had started off according to plan, and he had been on track to accomplish his mission. But his intelligence gathering started to taper off, and his check-ins with Danae became less frequent. He found himself spending more time with Nienna and her people and enjoying their company. He even once caught himself imaging settling down with the group.

“I’m just…I’m tired,” Quint admitted.

Arlo’s visage softened. “It finally happened, eh?”

“I spent decades serving with the Order. I gave them everything I had. I bled for them. Almost died for them. I guess I finally got burned out, and I slipped up. I honestly thought if it was going to happen, it would have been sooner than this. Not right before retirement.”

The two of them sat in silence together again while contemplating the predicament while Michi settled down next to the fireplace. She circled once and then laid down with her tail tucked under her head.  

Arlo finally broke the silence, his tone solemn. “I’m sorry kid, I really am. During my many years of service, I’ve seen a few agents lose their way. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It means you haven’t completely lost the connection to your soul.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“So, you’re leaving?” Arlo asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes, I’ll keep moving and stay ahead of the Order, like I said,” Quint replied. “There’s not much else I can do.”

Arlo uttered a thoughtful noise as he scratched his beard. “What about your people? Why not go to them?”

“They’re not my people,” Quint argued. “How can they be? I lied to them about who I was and what my intentions were. I spied on them and reported on them to the Order. They won’t want me around once they find all that out. They don’t deserve that sort of betrayal. I don’t deserve to be there with them.”

Arlo cleared his throat as he shifted in his chair. He began tapping his index finger on the armrest, something Quint had noticed over the years he did while thinking. “Are sure of that, kid? Are you sure this is what you want?”

Hesitating, the former Order of Whispers agent retreated into his thoughts as they conflicted with his emotions. Arlo had managed to pick up on the fact he was struggling to let go. He couldn’t quite disconnect himself from the experiences he shared with the rest of the group while living at the hall. They had left an impression, and that was something not many had managed to do. Still, he couldn’t shake the guilt in what he had done.

Making a simple gesture toward Quint, Arlo spoke up. “Well, if you want my opinion on the matter-“

“And I’m going to get it whether I want it or not,” Quint interrupted with a chuckle.

His mentor slapped his hand down on the armrest, eliciting a startled hiss from Michi whose sleep was interrupted by the sudden noise. “Damn right you’re going to get it whether you want it or not. Take it from an old man living out the rest of his days here alone in this house. Life as an agent—as a Slayer—can be isolating, and when it’s over, there’s often no one waiting. But that’s what makes candidates like us such a good fit for the job. No ties, no one to miss us if we don’t return. If these days are going to be your last, do you want to spend them alone on the run or with the people who matter?”

“I can’t go back,” Quint replied, his voice starting to waver more with each word. There were things he still hadn’t told Arlo about the matter. There were things he wished he could forget. But the truth remained, scrawled out on those pieces of parchment he gave to Nienna before he left, and it pained him more than he could have ever anticipated.