He sat up in his office for a little while, just watching the two of them talk. Katiri and Sinjun were becoming fast friends — a result of the expedition they had taken into the tunnels beneath Buccaneer’s Den. That journey was the first that Katiri had met Sinjun D’Aerno, and her husband Za’afiel. They had gathered in order to rescue the elf, Maple Goldentree, and Za’afiel’s knowledge of the tunnels proved invaluable. Azeron took a little while to replay the events of that recent evening in his head. By the time he was finished, he managed to watch Katiri and Sinjun teleport away. Sinjun was still crying.

Looking at the papers on his desk, he didn’t have to wonder long to know the source of Sinjun’s sadness. He had heard the whispers. He knew what some people were thinking. But he didn’t understand them. Days after Sinjun and Za’afiel had returned to the Silver Arrow, Azeron still didn’t understand. Asking around to trusted friends hadn’t helped him, either.

He had heard some speak of Sinjun’s intolerance of elves. Azeron had never been witness of that himself, but he had spoken to others in an effort to discover what he could. The best he could figure out is that some phrase or some action had been misinterpreted in the days of the Yew Militia that had led a handful of elves to make the accusations. But those he had spoken to had pointed out that they had not witnessed it. It was a curious development, and Az wondered about its origins.

Azeron had pried into other events that had taken place around that time as well. Oh, how he remembered Tal’s frustration with Kaleb Koons at the time. The memory of Tal’s rants brought a grin to Az’s face — It made him glad that most of his fighting had been in Trinsic. But one memory led to another... Kaleb Koons had been involved with Joylah at the time. After Kaleb had been imprisoned, and Joylah refused to go see him, he had taken up with Sinjun. A peculiar development, but certainly not exceptional. Relationships began and ended all the time in Tel’Ruid. That wasn’t really irregular news.

But then there was the aftermath. Kaleb’s escape from the Yew Prisons. Sinjun’s subsequent capture, and the orchestration of her escape. It was shortly after that that she had been taken in by Za’afiel D’Aerno. Za’afiel, who had once been Mayor Ethan Rywillow of Yew, and had married Councilor Joylah Smith, was a likely reason for Sinjun’s grief. Not directly, of course. Azeron knew, from the few interactions that he had with the two of them, that they were infinitely happy together. But could their union be the reason for the unwelcoming faces they received when they entered the Silver Arrow?

Azeron looked over at his left hand. He took a moment to rotate the wedding band that still rested on his finger. He shook his head quietly. It seemed impossible to him that Sinjun and Za’afiel had been made to feel unwelcome in the glade if that were their only transgression. If infidelity were such an unforgivable crime, then surely his wife, Melyanna, and that elf, Kirel, that she was cavorting with would have been driven out by now.

And yet, it still went on. Azeron remembered hearing news about Sinjun being called a “whore” and Za’afiel’s “mistress”. Yet, here before him, plain as day, was the document written by Joylah’s hand, asking that the marriage be annulled. And affixed at the bottom, were the signatures of both Za’afiel D’Aerno and Jamie, the former High Justicar of the Court. Jamie had assured him that the document had been made legal long ago. Azeron knew that Joylah was a passionate sort, but perhaps this grudge had been harbored for too long.

The scroll settled back down on the desk, and Azeron thought of the last bit of whispers that he had heard about his friend, Sinjun. True enough, it was known to some that both she and Za’afiel had sat on the secretive “Council of Sin”. Very little had come out of that group, save for the rantings of Krahe von Teufel — and his “Ministry” had long since vanished. But Sinjun had indeed gained a name for herself through that group. Not as an enemy of goodness, but rather, it’s most inventive agent...

Azeron looked at the other scrolls in front of him. Most had been written by Galahad, of the Knights of the Alliance. They told the story of the the boy Jaym, and the prophecies surrounding him. They also told of the sorcerers residing in the Fire Dungeon and their plot to control the profesied power of Jaym. It was Sinjun who had turned the tables on them, using her title with the Council of Sin to unravel the plans of those sorcerers. Even now, she was in danger because of her virtuous work. As a result, the rest of the land hailed her as a heroine of sorts. And yet here, in this secluded little glade, she was still shunned by some.

Azeron sat at his desk, the intensity of the quiet pounding against his ears. It didn’t seem fair. He certainly couldn’t understand it. This person, this friend, was being looked down upon on every side, and he simply could not see the reasoning. Even now, he had documents revealing how Sinjun was helping small communities band together in the face of the recent attacks across Sosaria. Yet here, in this place of wisdom and understanding, people spoke terrible things behind her back.

He just didn’t understand. But he could bear it no longer.

Azeron dipped the quill into the well of ink before him. He took out a blank scroll and unrolled it, pushing the other scrolls to the edges of his desk. He let the feather brush lightly against his lower lip before beginning his letter.

He looked at the letter for a moment longer, and then, satisfied with it, added a flair to his signature. Then, rolling the scroll, he sealed it with the Tao emblem and stood up from the chair. The scroll went into his pack, and Azeron stretched, letting blood flow back into his legs. He thought about sending the note on the wings of a pigeon, then decided against it. This deserved to be delivered in person...