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[September 14] [Tales of Legendia] Our Utopia (2/?)
Title: Our Utopia (2/?)
Day/Theme: September 14 / this road is all you'll ever have
Series: Tales of Legendia
Character/Pairing: Jay
Rating: PG
If someone happened to peer in the window of a certain apartment in Baltoga, they would have seen a young man, hair tied back in a loose ponytail, scribbling away at his desk. An accountant, or a bookkeeper, they might think, and quickly put him out of their heads.
And that was just the way Jay liked it. After all, when the 'bookkeeper' is actually a spy, and his scribblings written in code, it's best to keep a low profile, is it not?
He'd been hired about two years ago, in the aftermath of the Merines' death (he tried not to think of her as Shirley). Rexalia, having lost the support of the Ferines, had been forced to abandon the Legacy, taking a blow to both its power and prestige in the process. They'd been mired elbow-deep in conflict since them, as the other nations of the world attempted to topple the once-greatest kingdom from its throne.
Her Highness, who believed in staying a few steps ahead of the game, had decided to take a few cautionary measures.
Jay liked his job, and he was very, very good at it. Six years of making information his game had taught him all the little secrets of the business: where to go for all the juiciest tidbits, how to find the truths hidden within the common gossip. (There was more of it than one might first think.) And--if he wanted to be perfectly honest with himself, the code he was using--adapted from one of Solon's creations--spoke to a different kind of experience.
(It might be admitted, however, that Jay had not been in the habit of being perfectly honest with himself lately.)
At this moment, he was putting down his pen, having finished thrice-encoding the twelve-page report he was preparing to send out. He'd arranged to meet a Rexalian agent the next day to deliver it, so all that was left now was to lock the report up and--
Something twigged in the back of his mind. His eyes fell on the letter sitting on the corner of the table. He'd meant to burn that one; he must have forgotten about it. Strange. He wasn't usually so sloppy. He made a note to do better in the future.
It was a letter that could have destroyed his cover; thankfully, it hadn't yet, but considering the contents.... It was typical Chloe, to rush headfirst into things without a second's thought spared to the possible consequences, thought Jay with more than a touch of annoyance. A visit from Chloe Valens, one of the most (in)famous personages in Gadoria, would do wonders for helping him keep his cover. Of course.
But she'd said she would come to see him, and there was no secure way to send her a return message, not at this late hour. He privately hoped she wouldn't be able to find him, but he knew that was unlikely. If Chloe said she would do something, she would, come hell or high water. He could expect to see her in the next few days, brandishing her damnable concern and her hopeless delusions and idealism.
I realize that you do not wish any further contact with us, she had written. And I--much as I disliked it, had chosen to respect your wishes. I would not be writing to you now if I did not believe that this was a situation of the utmost importance.
I have reason to believe that Shirley is alive.
Jay didn't particularly like the way his heart had jumped into his throat when he'd read that last line. It was ridiculous, to get worked up over what was more than likely unsubstantiated rumors, given wings by a girl who wanted desperately to believe that one of her best friends was not dead. She hadn't even given him any evidence for her assertion, though that could be due to discretion. But he doubted it. Chloe Valens was not known for her discretion.
He picked up the letter, intending to throw it into the fire, but after a moment, he thought better of it. With one hand, he lifted the chain with the key from his neck, using it to unlock the adjoining cabinet, and snatched an unassuming manila folder out. Best not to do things by halves.
He tossed Chloe's letter--her last letter--into the grate, watching the flames curl around it and eat it away, and followed that with the previous correspondences from her and others. There were many; he should have thrown them away long ago. Next were two large brown, crumbling leaves: one blank, one--with inscription; and finally, there were a series of photographs. He did not glance at these; the second from the top was of him with Moses.
He was doing this because of the security risk, and for no other reason, he told himself. He did not stop to think of another kind of security risk; one contained in warm smiles, in the lines of worry about a face, in a year of continued correspondence with no reply, in words like "family" and "love".
(This is what one generally means when one says that Jay was not in the habit of being honest with himself.)
Day/Theme: September 14 / this road is all you'll ever have
Series: Tales of Legendia
Character/Pairing: Jay
Rating: PG
If someone happened to peer in the window of a certain apartment in Baltoga, they would have seen a young man, hair tied back in a loose ponytail, scribbling away at his desk. An accountant, or a bookkeeper, they might think, and quickly put him out of their heads.
And that was just the way Jay liked it. After all, when the 'bookkeeper' is actually a spy, and his scribblings written in code, it's best to keep a low profile, is it not?
He'd been hired about two years ago, in the aftermath of the Merines' death (he tried not to think of her as Shirley). Rexalia, having lost the support of the Ferines, had been forced to abandon the Legacy, taking a blow to both its power and prestige in the process. They'd been mired elbow-deep in conflict since them, as the other nations of the world attempted to topple the once-greatest kingdom from its throne.
Her Highness, who believed in staying a few steps ahead of the game, had decided to take a few cautionary measures.
Jay liked his job, and he was very, very good at it. Six years of making information his game had taught him all the little secrets of the business: where to go for all the juiciest tidbits, how to find the truths hidden within the common gossip. (There was more of it than one might first think.) And--if he wanted to be perfectly honest with himself, the code he was using--adapted from one of Solon's creations--spoke to a different kind of experience.
(It might be admitted, however, that Jay had not been in the habit of being perfectly honest with himself lately.)
At this moment, he was putting down his pen, having finished thrice-encoding the twelve-page report he was preparing to send out. He'd arranged to meet a Rexalian agent the next day to deliver it, so all that was left now was to lock the report up and--
Something twigged in the back of his mind. His eyes fell on the letter sitting on the corner of the table. He'd meant to burn that one; he must have forgotten about it. Strange. He wasn't usually so sloppy. He made a note to do better in the future.
It was a letter that could have destroyed his cover; thankfully, it hadn't yet, but considering the contents.... It was typical Chloe, to rush headfirst into things without a second's thought spared to the possible consequences, thought Jay with more than a touch of annoyance. A visit from Chloe Valens, one of the most (in)famous personages in Gadoria, would do wonders for helping him keep his cover. Of course.
But she'd said she would come to see him, and there was no secure way to send her a return message, not at this late hour. He privately hoped she wouldn't be able to find him, but he knew that was unlikely. If Chloe said she would do something, she would, come hell or high water. He could expect to see her in the next few days, brandishing her damnable concern and her hopeless delusions and idealism.
I realize that you do not wish any further contact with us, she had written. And I--much as I disliked it, had chosen to respect your wishes. I would not be writing to you now if I did not believe that this was a situation of the utmost importance.
I have reason to believe that Shirley is alive.
Jay didn't particularly like the way his heart had jumped into his throat when he'd read that last line. It was ridiculous, to get worked up over what was more than likely unsubstantiated rumors, given wings by a girl who wanted desperately to believe that one of her best friends was not dead. She hadn't even given him any evidence for her assertion, though that could be due to discretion. But he doubted it. Chloe Valens was not known for her discretion.
He picked up the letter, intending to throw it into the fire, but after a moment, he thought better of it. With one hand, he lifted the chain with the key from his neck, using it to unlock the adjoining cabinet, and snatched an unassuming manila folder out. Best not to do things by halves.
He tossed Chloe's letter--her last letter--into the grate, watching the flames curl around it and eat it away, and followed that with the previous correspondences from her and others. There were many; he should have thrown them away long ago. Next were two large brown, crumbling leaves: one blank, one--with inscription; and finally, there were a series of photographs. He did not glance at these; the second from the top was of him with Moses.
He was doing this because of the security risk, and for no other reason, he told himself. He did not stop to think of another kind of security risk; one contained in warm smiles, in the lines of worry about a face, in a year of continued correspondence with no reply, in words like "family" and "love".
(This is what one generally means when one says that Jay was not in the habit of being honest with himself.)