Zi'da 45 717, Morning
Location: Patrick's Flat, Earth Quarter
He almost didn't want to wake up this morning after the amazing couple of breaks he had the night before, almost felt compelled to pretend his life had settled back to it's normal routine actually. However today was the day he had to leave once more, this time with uncertainty on whether or not he'd ever return. Patrick had a good run while he lived here. Yet he'd felt that time had reached its end now, at least until he had something to bring home with him... or someone. No matter where else he'd gone he would always have a home here, or at least feel like this place would always be home anywhere else. His return had been spent catching up with colleagues he knew, from those here in the Earth Quarter to a few in the Glass also.
Yet with all that time spent sharing what he'd gone through with those he knew, only two days were all he had to come up with one last good bye for them all. How did he do it? How did he plan it? Promptly by the most quiet means necessary, and that was with some written letters he'd leave behind. He knew they'd reach their intended addresses eventually, whether somebody he knew would come across them or... maybe a shady person from the Shadow Quarter would be nice about it at least. He hated to leave on bad terms with them like this, but he eventually planned to come through on his end. That was the deal after all, and it was one he didn't plan allow to keep, nor for them to dangle over his head for too long. Thus he sat at the table at the center of his flat, several of his old parchments laid out and blank as he sat there in thought.
Ri'ku seemed distracted by the fact he was at the table, he couldn't physically tell but he knew she'd been watching him. So where to begin then? How about with the people that really mattered? The ones that made such a difference in his life before he wound up leaving for the first time. That counted Daveth as the first, possibly the only one left in Rharne since the others were... gone. They were just gone now. "Alright." He sighed as he reached over and took the quill from the well, his hand rested on the first line of alignment where he'd write down the Ithecal's name. At first he paused shortly after he started, unsure where he should begin or what should be the best part of this letter for that matter. Goodbyes were never a thing for Patrick obviously, but this needed to be done in the event he wouldn't return.
In the event he...
No. He couldn't afford to think like that, not when he didn't know what the future held for him. "Start with the beginning then." He lightly pressed the tip of his quill on the parchment once more, the first paragraph a dedicated thanks to the fact Daveth helped him by a lot. It was thanks to the Ithecal Patrick found work as a bartender, not by all means honest as most would presume, but still dedicated work that helped get him out on his own. Not just that but the fact he looked out for Patrick also, when Dom seemed unable to at the time most importantly. For a person who didn't owe Patrick anything, he wound up giving Patrick much more than he anticipated when he stepped in during Pat's early years as an adult.
Next came the next part; the big news that he would be gone, and unlikely to return whenever anytime soon. He hinted that more adventure waits, yet again, across the waters on the other continent from here. Beyond that however Patrick avoided the truth; that once his investigation into Orimar was over, he'd begin to find a way to bring back Dominek through whatever means possible. He'd been lost long enough without his older brother, so he now felt it time to change that if he found a way to do it. Daveth would likely try to talk him out of it, tell him that he wasn't thinking straight. Come to think of it... Crowley would too. Ri'ku even. Nobody knew what he really planned to do, and it was probably for the better that he kept it that way. Least until he had the answers he needed.
Which led up to the good-bye written within the letter, a sentimental bit he wrote that felt oddly worded when he read it. Perhaps because he didn't feel right with it, since it was after all one of the very things he hated to be presenting. With the quill rested back in the inkwell he leaned back into his chair, another sigh sounded out from his lips as he looked from the parchment back to Ri'ku. "You sure we're not coming back??" Her voice echoed sincerely as she hovered closer to his face.
Patrick looked back over to the essentials he had all packed up, this time a little bit of everything he intended to bring. Clothes, weapons regrettably, armor, tools and gear meant to explore also; all the particular traveling equipment he'd need, tightly packed into that large ass bag he carried around. "Yeah." He muttered with a weak chuckle. "Not for a long time Ri."
"But I thought this was home."
"It is." He reassured her. "It'll always be home for us, eventually we'll probably come back."
"Well you know I'm not gonna be around to dust the place again." She remarked as she orbited around his head slowly, the fact she admitted there being a first attempt made him smile.
"No worries." He mused with a look back down to the parchment he wrote on. "I know some people who'll take care of it while we're gone." With the next empty parchment brought over in front of him, he thought more along the lines of a few recent people he liked. Those which he worked with at the Harlot when he signed on, ironically it'd only been because he had found Wendell working there and... wanted to be more like him. Strange how that panned out since the Hound wound up with the girl of his dreams, and Patrick just wound up as a second whore to a noble later on. It then dawned on Patrick that he really did suck with relationships apparently, given his history with choosing those who wound up settling down with others.
But this wasn't to Wendell nor Rei, the two he still to this Trial felt a few feelings for. No this was to the ones that still remained where they did not, to Rose as well as Sugar who were likely still living it up at the same wild house joint the caretaker ran. Rather than write multiple names though, Patrick addressed it to 'his friends at the Harlot' to keep it simple. He went on about how they were definitive influences even briefly, and that he wasn't going to forget them anytime soon. That one Trial eventually he'd come back around to see the business again, once he'd managed to accomplish all his other goals. He also wrote a somewhat formal apology about how he'd worked elsewhere later, and mentioned that he'd deliver regards to the ones he still held residual feelings for; that is if they were ever to meet again in person one Trial.
Then with another lousy good-bye written he found that second letter concluded, this time a little quicker than the first one around thankfully. Still difficult as the first though... Next... Those that helped him at the Cathedral. Lena, as well as the priests and priestesses. They did shelter him a couple times after all, when he wound up dealing with the curse of his mark from Syroa. At the memory alone Patrick held a hand over that part of his shoulder, his face sullen at the reminder of the horrible nights he suffered from transformation. He determined it best to keep his name anonymous in this case, and if they were curious enough they'd look into it; figure out that it was him eventually if they wanted to.
Surprisingly this letter proved a little shorter and easier to write as he concluded with the same ending, that he'd be gone possibly for a very long time with no real idea on his return. As he finished this one he took another break and this time, rose from his chair to approach the window of his flat. Just outside in the streets he could see the people, how they went on and interacted with one another. How they carried out their Trial like it were any other. Ordinary. The observation brought a soft smile as he looked to his left to see Ri still remained close. "I know." He reiterated with a soft chuckle. With one last look over to the table and then to his things, Patrick determined it close to that time now.
First he would go visit the bank to take care of his business there, and then once he'd return for his things he'd take the sight. Just one last time. Patrick left home with the letters on the table, determined to leave it all behind once more for something greater.
He'd leave believing he would return home. One Trial.
