(Note: The course of events through this set of journals happens in the days prior to, through the events of, and ends the day after the events that took place IC on the night of Monday, 05/14/18)
If there was anything Roderik had learned about Genjl, it was the Sylvari’s uncanny ability to talk his way out of trouble. And it was a thing he learned in the few short hours it took for their friendship to take root.
It was so awe inspiring to watch. So much so that Roderik himself actually shut up for longer than a five minute interval to allow the scene to unfold. And with such wonder! The innocence and sincerity the Sylvari posed in his apology was either completely genuine, or Genjl was a brilliant actor. Either way, no harsh punishment befell the boys, other than their binding word that they would right the mess they made before the sun rose.
Just as the morning sun began to filter through the canopy, the bar was sparkling brighter than every other inch of the gold encrusted Hollow. Every chair was even upright and centered. A miracle! A blessing from the gods above! Or those who walked among mortals. And it was a once in a lifetime occurrence, no doubt, given the messengers who bestowed the blessing.
With it came the day’s freedom. Or rather, as much freedom as being contained to a gilded prison would allow. A prison that Genjl was absolutely stunned that Roderick had yet to fully explore. Oh, how that twig nearly vibrated with excitement at the very prospect of dragging his new friend to every little nook, cranny, and hovel there was. By the time they were through, Roderik was certain he could draw a very detailed map of the place from memory. Though it might not have been to scale.
As night fell, they stood on the shore a few stories beneath the apartment Genjl shared with his Captain, skipping rocks across the water’s still surface. The conversation varied from such whimsy as ‘who would sink faster when dunked in full plate: Riathan, Koryander, or Diran?’, to what made the stars spin at night.
“Hey, Genjl,” Roderik mused into the momentary lull, “you ever been to the Reach?”
Genjl rolled his head where it rest against his forearms to offer Roderik a quizzical glance.
“You know,” the human continued, with a shrug of his shoulders, “Divinity’s Reach?”
“Ah!” Genjl’s eyes, and the glow that lined his plant-like body brightened. “Yes. Jesse and I go often.”
Roderik pauses for a beat. The name Genjl uses takes him a moment to process. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the Captain’s actual name before. Regardless, he supposed it was a silly question, what with Ironwood’s involvement with the Blades.
“Guess it’s nothing new to you then, huh?” Perhaps there was a hint of disappointment in Roderik’s voice, though it was hard to tell. It’s not as though the city was anything much to marvel at anyway. Not in his opinion. Well, aside from a few choice places. Maybe.
Was that some sort of bittersweet homesickness talking? Or just restlessness?
Restlessness, Roderick told himself. Afterall, it was hard to miss a home that was never yours to begin with.
He felt the Sylvari searching him with his gaze, but it was just something else he shrugged off with a nonchalant rock of his shoulders.
“Does it have to be new?” Genjl sat upright, folding his legs in front of himself.
The question took Roderik by surprise, and it’s another beat before he answers. “Nah.” He skipped another rock across the river. It echoed hollowly against the trees and golden walls. “It’s boring. Supply runs are boring. But I’ve gotta get out of here for a while. Wanna come?
“Sure!” Genjl’s reply came a little too quickly, and maybe a little too easily. Roddy was learning at this point to expect such enthusiasm. And well, he couldn’t deny that he appreciated it.
The smile that crept across his face surely didn’t.
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There was a voice that nagged in the back of Roderik’s mind the entire night. Again, it sounded remarkably like Diran, despite how his warden was very much asleep at the time.
A bad idea, it kept saying. But how could it be? He’s taking initiative! For albeit selfish and arguably childish reasons, sure, but he was making an effort!
Something will go wrong. It always goes wrong.
Why did the terrible, condescending voice of his own insecurity have to manifest in the form of someone he respected? Someone whose approval he so desperately sought?
And yet, getting permission proved to be astonishingly easier than Roderik had ever anticipated. Perhaps the fact he offered helped his case, supported by the detailed note of inventory. Amazing how things worked in his favor when he approached it from the right angle.
Told ya, he goaded to the voice in his head, he had it all figured out.
Just like that Roderik was sent on his errand with a full coin satchel and a plucky Sylvari in tow.
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