By the Old Oak Tree

Finding the note had been simple enough, as had been finding the tree in question. What had been difficult, however, was mustering their will to drag himself out of bed to begin with.

Of late, he had been immersed in a deep and suffocating depression. The futility of it all... the words that continued ringing through his head, throughout every action he undertook, haunted him, taunted him. Everything he looked at, reminded him of someone he failed to save, or a bridge he had failed to cross, or a conflict he'd been unable to resolve. Of late, everything just seemed to feel like he was just doing the same thing he had always done, again and again and again. Everything was riddled with Deja Vu, and - unfortunately - it was in an entirely negative sense.

Alena was one of the few people whom Alena would get out of bed to meet. As he saw her upon the crest of the hill, he walked towards her. He was wearing a dark purple leather tunic that had no sleeves, and the same material made up his pants, boots, elbow-high fingerless gloves, and even the belt around his waist. He seemed to be unarmed, but Alena knew, better than most, that such didn't necessarily mean he was actually unarmed. Of late, he had taken to wearing rings that could, in an instant, change his getup to dark purple platemail, to casual attire, etc... although, at the rate Alena would know he'd been recharging the artifact for the Plate Armor, he spent more time clad in armor than anything else. She would sense that he'd become painfully more aware of the dangers that lurked around the world - if exceeding his former state of hypervigilance could get any worse - and was half ready to cleave anything that so much as swayed in the wind with a blade.

Coming to her now, in his leather attire, was a gesture of trust, she would know. That, and - the Bond they shared would reveal - he wanted to feel as light and carefree as possible, and being here - with the strong, cold wind - wearing only light armor, would give him more of that sensation than armor that weighed sufficiently to be, instead, three full grown men hanging about each of his limbs, his torso, and upon his head.

"Hey there," He said, nodding in greeting. She would see the smile that others would miss, if they looked upon his seemingly stoic features. Maximillion had never been good at making 'status quo' facial expressions, but those closest to him usually knew how he felt about things.

"I got the letter, but admittedly skimmed it. I feel like I do nothing but read letters and tomes, so I figured I'd switch it up and see what you wanted face-to-face, so.... What's up?"

Maximillion looked at Alena, turning his head a bit to the side, as though seeing her and scrutinizing her curiously.

"I think taking some time to ourselves ought to do what we need it to." Maximillion replied quietly. He looked down at the soil, then quickly turned away. Even that many years ago, the memory of the kitten they had buried was still fresh in his mind. He had been so angry at their Lord-Father for being so callous about the runt of the litter. Maximillion had even stolen into the hidden corner of the Grand Library where Alexandreu kept his private archives, had pulled out a tomb on Resurrection, and had attempted to bring it back...

However, while the kitten had been unaffected by the spell, it had exploded on Maximillion, and had caused him to be blind for a week. After his body had finally managed to repel the magicks blinding him, his sclerae - formerly the 'whites' of his eyes - had been a blood-red since. Even years later, every attempt he had made at doing Necromancy had failed utterly. His father had later taken him aside, and explained that Magic was about intent and purpose, as much as incantations and ingredients. Maximillion was full of love and love of life. Necromancy would never be something he could wield, so long as this remained the case.

And, to-date, no matter how much pain he suffered, how much trauma he'd experienced, the love and the love of life had never went away, as desirous as Maximillion had been for it to.

"Sometimes, it's time to pull away from the hubbub of shitty political life, and take some time away. Maybe this is what we've needed."

"What shall we do first, you ask? Hmm..."

Maximillion thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, first, we have to make a trip to Tyrius. Their Kingdom has been devastated by the events preceding the last war, and I think this is as good a time as any to attempt a Diplomatic Mission there. I doubt they can say no, when the Emissaries are a Prince and Princess of Karnassius."

He took a few steps forward, a few feet away from Alena, folding his thick arms over his barrel chest.

"I can make the trip pretty quickly, with the use of my Enchanted Map. I have marked it's location, and can be there within a matter of seconds. I just want to be sure that you're ready, before we take off. I kind of sprung this on you just now, so it would only be polite to give you time to consider and think it over."

"Something for fun?"

Maximillion had been so caught up in his thoughts, and the affairs of the Realm, it would seem he had forgotten the actual purpose of them meeting here.

"Ah, my apologies." He said, grinning sheepishly. He put an arm around Alena, and pointed outwards, towards the sky. A violet blur slowly came into existence in the direction he pointed, then the sight of what looked like an old Fair of sorts, rows of kiosks, and vender-wagons, arranged in straight lines, on either side of various cobblestone, or gravel paths winding through the area.

A trick of his, manipulating the light, atmospheric moisture, and even bending photons just enough to cause a sort of "Telescopic" effect to let them see in a direction, and at a depth, otherwise impossible.

"This is going on, on the outskirts of the Capital City. Would this interest you?"