Several days prior
With the finality of her superior's word in hand, or rather in pocket, Aislin Lughadh rode for her sanctuary in Luskonios knowing that her ordeal was over, at least for now. The waning sun bathed the city in an enthralling orange light, one that did well to keep the paladin's eyes open as it glanced across windows and glass, the knight welcoming the pain of the light's sheen. She was going on thirty-six hours now, almost two days without proper rest, though they were kind enough at the Monastery to free her of her armor, the plate that had tasted battle in Caranhall kept for examination and study. Her reports weren't exactly well-received, though they did warrant an air of severity that she had seen before, at the Nuvellon Estate. Their speculation as to the Caranhall assailant being the same was put to rest by her testimony in the debriefing, though her own thoughts on the creature's nature were held in anxious trepidation - neither confirmed nor denied, simply acknowledged with more hesitation than she would have liked to see.
In all honesty she had lost track of time in the debriefing room - the interrogation room, rather, repurposed once she told them what she believed she had encountered - and it was no small miracle of caffeine that kept her upright, hardly managing a catnap or two at the monastery in between bouts of questions. Even now she found herself unnecessarily revving the Destrier's engine, using the noise to keep her aware, to keep her awake. Fortunately her destination wasn't far, well-situation inside of Luskonios, a short enough drive considering the treks she had been on over the past day or so, and Aislin could feel her shoulders sag as she passed into the parking garage, a weak smile of satisfaction splitting her features - she was on the home stretch, the final lap, and already the woman could almost feel the soft reward of a pillow underneath her head. The grumbling cycle of the Destrier's engine soon came to a definite and startling halt underneath her, the paladin yanking the key from the vehicle's ignition, as if it would start the thing again under its own power, and holding it tight in her fist. Just a walk now, a short climb up a few flights of stairs and she could enjoy the soothing comfort of a shower and the sweet embrace of slumber.
But it took some mental berating for the paladin to move from where she sat now, roughly managing to deploy the bike's kickstand as she slouched atop the machine, almost leaning down on the handlebars before she recomposed herself, knowing that if she did, sleep would easily overtake her. Clumsily the woman dismounted her steed, idle hands checking over her form to make sure that she still had all of her accouterments - her blade, her Lawkeeper, the very armor she was wearing - and once she was satisfied set off, her pace swift, if careful, checking the lanes in the garage for traffic as she made a bee-line for the staircase up to the apartment complex, eagerly taking to the steps, for a time. Hardly halfway up the first flight Aislin's left leg buckled in protest, fatigued beyond its capability, and were it not for her reflexes she would've fallen flat on her face, though the quick hand that took hold of the nearby rail preserved her from such a fate. The slip-up left the paladin huffing for a few moments there on the lonely staircase, catching her breath as she realized that she couldn't simply whisk her way up the various flights after the adventure she had been on.
Reluctantly the woman turned about, carefully descending the staircase and almost limped back into the small antechamber between the stairs and the garage, looking eagerly to the elevators beside her. A steel finger reached out for the button to summon the lift, and once the thing shone with light she shifted on her feet, crossing her arms as she did her best to be patient. After last night, it was the least she could do. In short order a light chime announced the elevator had arrived, though the silvery door parted too slow for Aislin's liking, evidenced by the paladin nearly rushing into the thing once she'd made sure there was no one inside. With another stern move from her gaunteleted hand she punched the key for the top floor, where lady Allard resided, and consigned herself again to wait as the door slid shut. It was only a matter of time now, she chided herself, just a matter of waiting for that door to open and turning to the right. But the sweet relief of home would have to wait as the lift came to something of a halt on just the second story, the vertical motion of the carriage ceasing as the door slid open once again to reveal a rather plain man. He was in his mid-thirties, with a square-set jaw and relatively short-cut mouse-brown hair, parted, in a rather antiquated style, on the left. Lughadh was once again thankful for the helm that covered her visage as she shot glaring daggers at the man for delaying the inevitable, regarding him with muted contempt as he slipped inside the elevator, apologizing as he did. "Forgive me, dame. I, uh, got off on the wrong floor."
Once inside the man moved to a corner on Aislin's flank, a thing that otherwise might have concerned her, were she not in Luskonios or so God damned tired, and she made a rather visible effort not to slouch now, lest she reflect poorly on herself and her Order, keeping the small control panel to her front, a thing to focus on beyond the meddling interloper. Briefly he shifted on his own feet - Aislin didn't look to see why, his voice barely leaving his lips before he silenced it - "I'm going to flo-... oh. You're already on it." The same destination then, at least that would speed things up somewhat. Once more the Iverian felt the elevator lurch as it rose upwards, climbing as quickly as it could to the top floor of the condominiums and the respite that awaited her. Tight-gripped, frustrated hands found themselves on her arms, squeezing her plate that she might not lash out at the man - she knew he did nothing wrong, not truly, but at times like these she could hardly help herself, being kept from home, from rest, and from her love. The return of the chime was almost angelic to the paladin, a note from the Wick itself, and pulling her hands from her arms she moved immediately for the door as it began to slide back, eager to be through the portal, though another word from her fellow passenger gave her pause.
"He trusted you, paladin."
In the immediate sense the woman was ready to actually spit some spiteful thing back at this man, delaying again her odyssey to her apartment, but it was only after a moment that the woman realized just what it was he had said, just how much his tone of voice had stooped from the light-hearted, innocent apology he'd offered before, and, perhaps most of all, how the lift behind her was completely empty. Already the knight could feel the hair on her neck stand on end, the chill of fear once again striking down her spine as she beheld the barren depths of the elevator, devoid of everything save her own reflection in the mirrored glass across from her. Aislin stood, lingering in the elevator door, dumbstruck and bewildered, until the elevator's door moved to close, bouncing against her shoulder once before she pulled back into the hallway beyond.
It would be several more minutes before the paladin arrived at her lover's door, not simply exhausted, but visibly shaken.
