The Primarch Keeps Breaking Things

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> Your species are terrible liars. She's likely picked up that not everything about you is as you've said.

> Just say you're not comfortable with sharing.

> Chris brings out an actual deck of cards labelled with magical artifacts. He wasn't even lying.

You hesitate, and the split-second silence is enough cause for a sceptical hum. Living up to a stereotype pains you, but Cervo are terrible liars, and you the worst among them.

"Will you begrudge me if I say I want to preserve my mystique?"

You quirk a half-smile. You're not often playful these days; hopefully this approach doesn't hurt your act.

Elana's little smirk suggests it did.

"I'll let you get away it 'cause you're charming," she says, and Chris' startled disbelief mirrors your reaction. Elana has curious tastes. You're not--she's too generous--you're soft-spoken, that's all--there's literally nothing 'charming' about you--

"Aw, Elana. Barth's shy around pretty ladies. You're killing him."

Chris' interjection spares you from an awkward silence. You throw him a grateful glance, but he's preoccupied with fishing through his pockets. You hope whatever he's searching for isn't too large. Wouldn't want the authorities confiscating his trousers for their 'Bag of Holding' properties.

"Want to see some of my cards? Truth is, he's accompanying me to a players' meetup with some friends I made on the 'nex. It's kinda nerdy, but whatever."

"You're that into it, huh? Didn't think you had them on hand," says Elana. She chuckles. "Sure. Why not?"

"I obviously don't have a Render's Egg." Chris flips open his card case. Well, then. You could've sworn he made that all up. "I can show you some of the rarer-than-average parts of my deck..."

- - - -

Cut to the Fourth Ring, the Primarch's palace. You're sister-Elana, and fifteen minutes Interdimentional Standard Time have passed without word from your twin brother.

This is bad. This is very bad, indeed.

"Come on," you mutter, swiping out message after urgent message. "Pick up, pick up, pick up!"

What on Mom's green earths has him so preoccupied? You wonder if someone swiped his comm and responded as a prank. That story about succubi and wyverns is too bizarre, even for Aedan.

You check the clock on the nightstand and chew your lip. They'll be here in an hour, maybe less. And you need your old wand back, pronto.

- - - -

Everyone's in trouble today, aren't they? What's so special about your old wand, and who needs to borrow it so badly?

>_