Races: Online

Han, who was more Han, than Jing—if 'Jing' could be used as some sort of adjective… was taken aback when the others, yes, people who he could recall interacting with but didn't really feel an exact connection with urge him to do things.

"Han, can I have a word with you?" Professor Owen asked.

"Uh… am I in trouble, Professor?" Han asked, because he had a gut instinct that he did, but for the love of all things—it wasn't exactly him either. Perhaps he would have done something as dangerous as revealing the existence of other Races in contact with him if it did him any good.

On the contrary, all Han ever wanted was to study and make something for himself.

"In trouble? Why would you be in trouble in Professor Liddell's books?" Sir Leon de Harrington laughed a little as class ended for them.

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Well, he isn't exactly paying attention to the lecture and exams are coming up."

"That wouldn't be enough for Professor Owen to lecture him still, because all things have their own consequences, do they not, Professor?" 

"That is correct." Professor Owen Liddell nodded. "I was just about to give Han a small reminder that's all." At least that was what Owen had in mind, but the way that Han looked at him as if he was some villain out to ensnare his soul or something was a bit off putting.

"Well then, I'll let you guys know in advance that there's no need to attend my next class or Cleric Orleans because the two of us have a prior engagement to take care of." Professor Owen remarked. 

A couple of looks were exchanged between the class, and even Owen was not blind to see that his Students thought that he and she looked good together. If only that damn Healer was actually around to see it then it would have been much more satisfying, regardless, Owen decided to leave it be for now.

Owen squeezed Han's shoulder and then promptly left them in tow.

… Jeanne Orleans didn't have a single clue whatsoever that Owen Liddell cancelled her class to make room for a meeting. 

Owen didn't know if those three pulled on some kind of Spell that erased memories and only Owen was able to resist it—or it was simply Jeanne forgetting it, as some men and women did after encountering something terrible and blocked it from their memory—but now was the time to remember it.

Owen Liddell was aware of the circumstances and even had a personal vendetta for the Shadow Elf that raided his supplies of potions from the last time, but if he were to actually try and confront… ahem, talk properly to those three and understand their reasons for coming—without Owen trying to bash their heads, then that would delightful.

He just needed some fail safe in case he died.

Long ago, when the gods were strong and dabbled more in creating [ Miracles ] that actually changed the course of history in order to amass a following—it wasn't strange for them to have powers, skills and spells that were now a legend.

As the eons changed, it was exactly nothing short of a miracle to where a [ Resurrection ] was deemed possible. Aptly named as they were and it was what Owen might have wanted if the Cleric was actually capable of that.

"Jeanne, are you there?" He knocked outside of her door without a moment's hesitation. Owen was not some kind of boy that would get embarrassed at actually entering a women's quarters and neither was he fazed when Jeanne opened the door.

"Owen?" Jeanne was dressed properly, thank you very much. "What seems to be the problem? You were disturbing my prayers."

Owen distinctively remembered that his grandfather, the Headmaster did allow for Jeanne to have an hour or two of prayer as it was a custom or routine of their Order. He cleared his throat and looked her in the eye. "Can I come in?"

"...No." Jeanne Orleans gave him a flat look. "Not unless you have a good reason to."

Owen Liddell stared at her unimpressed face and said, "You know, Lavelda would have already pulled me into her room without hesitation—"

"And why would she have done that?" Jeanne rested a hand on her hip and gave him a dirty eye.

"Because the two of us would simply go over and pore over some ancient tomes or scholarly books over some tea." Owen Liddell coughed lightly. "I was not exactly implying anything indecent."

"Of course, you weren't." 

"I really wasn't."

"Let's just pretend that I believe you so I can go back to my scripture reading—that of which, I am assured that you have no interest in speaking to me with." 

A ghost of a smile played on Owen's lips as he nodded. "I'll state my matters briefly then. I need your assistance in an upcoming, ah, circumstance where I may have to battle three powerful individuals if it were not to go well." 

As far as he knew, Eemis was the god of Light though—and that was enough edge against a Shadow Elf though and might be able to burn a Tiefling… and even effectively counter the Light Elf's own light from within.

Jeanne's expression darkened slightly as her brows furrowed. Despite everything that came between them, she was one of those who always worried about his activities. "What did you do, Owen? Who did you fight with? This isn't related to the Academy or anything whatsoever is it?"

"No. Consider it as a personal affair." As if the entire city or kingdom wasn't involved.

"Then do it on your own."

"Must you turn away those who need help and supplication? I can actually remember that being in one of the tenets—"

"You know I turn a blind eye whenever you drop your lessons and go about playing some bartender away from the Headmaster and High Mage's nose, right?"

Owen Liddell grimaced. "I remember that as a substantial favor on your part and I am indebted to you, but this is a different matter completely. Without your help, I am… afraid that I may not be able to handle this on my own."

"What?" Jeanne stopped herself from closing the door in his face—while Owen was already prepared to catch and stop it with his foot. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes."

Owen Liddell was still the same young man as he was several years ago when he first arrived in Wolfcrest Village. Perhaps a touch older—that he'd admit, but even Jeanne knew that he was someone who held his pride and refused help if he could tackle it on his own.

Now was not one of those times.

"...come in and tell me what happened." Jeanne frowned at him and opened the door at last. Once Owen entered the door, she quickly closed it and then closed her hands together. "I will be using [ Protection from Darkness ] to prevent anyone from hearing but be quick about it."

"Ah, thank you." Owen Liddell smiled briefly and acknowledged her actions with a small nod. "Much better to prevent anyone from eavesdropping."

It wasn't as if neither was unaware of how Lavelda had ears and eyes across the entire Academy—it was terrible to underestimate a companion and trust that their agendas were always aligned with each other.

"You could have approached someone else to help you… but I assume that they would refuse, wouldn't they?" Jeanne pulled out a wooden chair and offered it to him.

Owen Liddell eyed the same sparsely decorated room except for the small altar that Jeanne had of her god and quickly sat down. Jeanne did the same and crossed her arms—awaiting for him to spill the beans.

"Well, if some people have already brushed it underneath the rug or already buried the hatchet then they would find no more reason to pry into this matter, but I'd like to think differently. Do you remember the Wyvern attack recently?"

"I do." Jeanne tersely nodded.

"You know that they've stayed and resided in the Endless Passes for quite a long time now, and that it's where they get enough food to sustain themselves—but whatever actually spooked it or scared them must have been more dangerous, Jeanne."

"Please spare me from your thought processes, Owen." Jeanne gave him a tired look. "Just give me your conclusion."

"The three fugitives are returning and I need enough fire power… or should I say light power to stop them."

No smile appeared on Jeanne's face at Owen's joke, and he blamed himself for even saying something ridiculous. Perhaps Toby would have laughed at it though, or snorted at him for that terrible joke.

"You mean to say… those that were at the gates?"

"The ones that we encountered outside of the city too." Owen Liddell and gauged her reaction. Jeanne winced and grabbed for her head—before she finally straightened up with a bothered look.

It bothered Owen a lot too. Far more than he admitted to seeing his friend go through something like that… but he didn't reach out, he stopped himself from doing that and instead waited for her to say something.

Right when Owen feared that Jeanne wouldn't say anything at all, that was when she spoke up. "When are they coming?"

The Alchemist, the Assassin, the Prof—Owen Liddell sighed in relief before he smiled a little. "Very soon actually. I wouldn't be surprised if they arrive tonight if they have some teleportation scrolls or anything."

"For the love of Eemis' beard! Why did you only say something now?!"