In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer
She makes her way to the Academy in no particular rush. There had been more important things to deal with besides Neron and Zariah, and besides, she kind of wanted to make them wait. Is that an absolutely petty show of power? Yep. Does she care? Nope. Besides, it’s not like either of them are going anywhere right now. The portal is still buried in snow and she has no particular desire to throw them in the Tundra to strike more bargains with the Eirachi.
Still, she has questions for Neron, and she does not make him wait more than a few days. It is early still when she arrives, taking the time to check on the people sheltering in the Academy. After, Weaver is shown to the room where Neron has been held. There are two guards outside his door, fellow hunters, and she gives them a smile and nod before knocking. She waits long enough to give him a chance to prepare before she opens the door and makes her way in.
There are no weapons with her (at least not that can be seen), though she is not particularly concerned. She’d left them behind on purpose. ”Neron,” she greets, her voice not unkind. ”For whatever it is worth, though I am sure it’s not much, you weren’t a terrible Warden until all this.” She liked him, honestly. She grabs a chair and joins him, wherever he may be, flipping the chair around so she’s sitting on it backward, legs straddling the backrest, arms crossed over the top. ”I am hoping you will tell me your side of the story. All of it, and not the politician's version.” There is much more she wants to discuss with him, but let’s just start there.
Still, she has questions for Neron, and she does not make him wait more than a few days. It is early still when she arrives, taking the time to check on the people sheltering in the Academy. After, Weaver is shown to the room where Neron has been held. There are two guards outside his door, fellow hunters, and she gives them a smile and nod before knocking. She waits long enough to give him a chance to prepare before she opens the door and makes her way in.
There are no weapons with her (at least not that can be seen), though she is not particularly concerned. She’d left them behind on purpose. ”Neron,” she greets, her voice not unkind. ”For whatever it is worth, though I am sure it’s not much, you weren’t a terrible Warden until all this.” She liked him, honestly. She grabs a chair and joins him, wherever he may be, flipping the chair around so she’s sitting on it backward, legs straddling the backrest, arms crossed over the top. ”I am hoping you will tell me your side of the story. All of it, and not the politician's version.” There is much more she wants to discuss with him, but let’s just start there.
WEAVER
