Atlanta - "Hello, old friend..."

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre nodded at Carey's words.

Now, though, came the hard part. Now, Sastre would have to reveal a secret kept for... for centuries, really. A secret that he'd sworn a blood-oath almost forty years ago to reveal to no one. Not even Solphi, one of the only people he'd ever truly loved in his long life, had known, and the fact that he hadn't been honest with her about it before she'd died still hurt Sastre deeply.

There was nothing for it, though... There was no other choice. Carey, at least, was someone that Sastre trusted implicitly, and he couldn't say that about a lot of people. Other than Lexi Blair, and maybe the Randalls out west, Sastre had few true friends left, but of them all, Carey had seemed the obvious choice for this, and he prayed that his old friend would do him this one last favor...

"I'll keep your secret, Carey, you know that. I do, though... I have something I need you to take care of for me. Something that... Well, this isn't easy for me, but its important."

Sastre's blue-grey eyes flashed a bit as he locked gazes with Carey, and he silently prayed that his old friend would be up to this task, even with everything else that was obviously troubling him...

[carey01]

Secrets. It was a thing, that Carey very familiar with. He didn't mind keeping secrets, but when it came to his kids, it would hurt him, knowing that he had to keep secrets from his own blood. If he was a good father, was a question which Carey asked himself many times before. Doing what he did to his kids, was for their own safety. Having a family full of hunters wasn't what he wanted, remembering when he left his kids on the steps of the hunter academy. Lying to them, telling his kids that he was going to be back, in reality. Carey left them there, because he didn't know what else to do, his secret was that he was scared to raise three kids on his own.

Looking at Sastre, as he promised to keep it a secret, knowing that he could trust him. Carey had some trouble trusting other hunters, but Sastre was that one percent that he could trust. Looking at him, while his expression became a bit more serious, seeming like he had something important to tell him. Telling him that he needed him to take of something, which made him a bit confused, also eager to find out what Sastre wanted.

"Of course, Sastre. What is it exactly, you need me to do?" He asked curiously. It was only right, Carey didn't mind doing a favor for him, they both helped each other out in the past. Just looking at his expression, he could just guess that it wasn't your regular favor, like picking them up from work or something. He just waited for what he had to say

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre licked his lips, nervous to begin.

He ran his good hand over his face, trying hard to push aside the the weariness that still plagued him. He'd only been out of the hospital for a matter of days, and he knew that he should be back at Madison's place, in bed, but... But this was important. It had to be done.

"Carey," Sastre started, trying to find the words. "I need to tell you something that... that I've never told anyone. That I've been forbidden to tell anyone. When you hear what I have to say, it may not sound like much to you, but please remember that its... its what I've lived my life by for... for a long, long time."

Sitting down, he plunged ahead. "Sastre Quicksilver is... Is not an actual person, not really. Its... Its a name, passed down from one hunter to the next, over the past couple of centuries. This is done so that there's... there's a constant, a hunter that is always there, and who is completely and utterly devoted to the job. We... We don't do anything else. We don't start families, we don't get involved... We live for the hunt, and nothing else."

Even as he said these words, he realized that he'd been just as bad a "Sastre Quicksilver" as he always thought he'd been. He'd broken so many of the rules... There had been Solphi, the only woman that he'd ever loved. He'd known even then that getting involved with her was something he shouldn't have done, but the Old Man--his teacher, the hunter who had borne the name "Sastre Quicksilver" before him--had remained silent on the subject, neither saying anything to allow the relationship, nor doing anything to try and keep them apart. And, time and time again, he'd gotten too involved with people, and made friends, though he was supposed to remain detached and professional. The fact that he was here, talking to Carey about this, that was just another indication that he'd been a poor choice for this responsibility.

A poor choice... Second best...

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the memories that came rushing in. He hadn't been the first choice to become the next Sastre... That honor had belonged to a daring, brave, skilled young man named Julien LeDuc, a young man who had died defending him when he was little more than a child. With Julien gone, the Old Man had had no one left to train, and little Florian Raniari, the orphan, the screw-up, had become Sastre Quicksilver.

"There must always be a Sastre Quicksilver," he went on, not meeting Carey's gaze. "The way it usually works, we pick our successor ourselves, and train them up using the same routine and methods that were used to train us. It is a grueling, nightmarish gauntlet, and not just physically, but mentally also. But once its over, we emerge changed, better than we were... We emerge as Sastre Quicksilver."

With that, Sastre reached down, wincing a bit in pain as he dug through his duffel bag, pulling out an old, battered, leather-bound journal. Holding it up for Carey to see, he slowly handed it forward, offering it to his friend.

"Everything is in here. This is the journal that I've kept for almost forty years, since I became Sastre Quicksilver. And there's more," he added, also handing the other hunter a small key. "This is a key for a safety deposit box here in Atlanta. Inside that box, you will find thirteen other journals, one from each person to have used this name going back two centuries. Inside these journals are all the experiences of all the Sastre Quicksilvers: what we've hunted, what we've learned, and more importantly, the methods and training exercises that make us what we are."

God, it felt good to actually get all of this off his chest. These were things that he'd held in for most of his life, and to be able to tell someone else... it was very freeing. He knew that he should feel terrible, or guilty, about breaking his vow, but somehow... He just couldn't. And, he figured, it wouldn't matter for much longer anyway.

"Carey, I have not chosen a successor. I have, for reasons of my own, not gotten close to anyone in years. There is... something hunting me, that preys on anyone that it even so much as thinks I hold dear... It's the reason that I've not spoken to you in so many years..." He looked ashamed at this, still wondering if he would have been able to help Carey with his alcoholism a long time ago if he'd only stayed in touch. Shaking off this thought, he went on. "Things are quickly coming to a head between myself and what is hunting me. If it wins... If I'm not strong enough to beat it, and it kills me... I need you to do this for me, Carey."

Finally meeting Carey's eyes, Sastre said softly, his voice tense and pleading:

"You have to choose the next Sastre Quicksilver."

[carey01]

What could have been this secret of his? One that he hadn't told before. Carey knew that every hunter had a secret, which was their business, so he didn't bother with it. When it came to Sastre, he seemed to have a deep secret, that was extremely urgent to him. The expression on his face, was more of a confused look, trying to think of what he was trying to say. If it was forbidden, then what he had to say was really important, seeing that was probably risking his beliefs to tell Carey this. "Hmm... I see. What is it, Sastre?" Carey asked. Trying to comprehend the meaning of this, wondering if he had some reason behind it.

Once he began to talk again, Carey leaned against a wall, with his left hand scratching his chin. His eyes widening, after finding out, the truth. Sastre wasn't his real name, just wondering what his name really was. Thoughts just traveled through his mind, wondering if he was part of a hunter cult. Revealing that it was just a name, that was given to devoted hunters, which he could respect. Just thinking about the part, when he was talking about not having a social life practically, only living the life as a hunter. Remember his wife, meaning he must have broke a rule or two. Moving his fingers through his hair, keeping his concentration on what he had to say.

Carey started to feel a bit more confused, after hearing the origin of the name and how one would be given the title. Thinking of many kids, being trained to become hunters, who only breathes hunting, and nothing else. What a life that must be, but Sastre was probably one of the few to break that cycle. Love is unexpected, understanding if Sastre broke any rules. "I am guessing you haven't found one yet?" Asking him, trying to get some more answers. "So, there is always a 'Sastre Quicksilver' running around? Interesting." Saying lowly. Commenting on his story, as he explained how it worked.

Gazing over at Sastre, watching him pull out a book of some kind, seeing that he was trying to hand it to him. Moving his hand to the journal, gripping it with his right hand, opening it, taking a peak inside the journal. Flipping page to page, reading things he hadn't seen before, knowing that the journal had very valuable information. Listening to Sastre, explain the contents of the book, having everything from his past hunts and discoveries. Moving back to the wall, leaning back against it, just skimming through the pages. "Wow... This is impressive. Most hunters don't even know half of what is in here, Sastre." A bit amazed by the journal.

Wait... There was more? What more could he have? Carey saw him pull out a key, explaining what the key had to do with their conversation. If his journal had this kind of information, Carey just imagined the others, knowing that they could be a big help to his research, making the hunt for the demon easier. "Thanks, Sastre... I mean it. This may be the type of information that I need, the one that could help me in my hunt." He told him, putting the key in his pocket, making sure he didn't lose it. Thinking about the other journals, learning about the past hunters, which would date back in time.

As he went on with it, putting it together, knowing that type of talk. Which could mean, that he was probably going to meet his end soon. Carey understood what it meant, knowing that he had to carry the legacy of Sastre Quicksilver, but wasn't sure if he would be alive long enough to choose. Once he found this demon, there would be no sure way, that he would make it out a live. They were both after something, both knowing that they would die. "Damn... You sure about this, Sastre? We could just hunt the damn thing, and it would all be over." Trying to convince him, that there were other things to do besides thinking that he was already dead.

Staring at his eyes, knowing the seriousness of this, Carey knew that he was asking for a huge favor. One that he couldn't turn down, being that it was his friends wish, for him to choose the next hunter to be 'Sastre Quicksilver.' "Ahh..." He sighed slightly. "Fine, Sastre. I will do it." Submitting to his favor, with a smile on his face. "I won't lie to you and say everything will be fine... We are both old, so we are bound to die. I will do this favor for you, my friend." Carey told him, walking closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Just don't give up without a fight, Sastre. Or I will kick your ass in the afterlife, heh." He told him, trying to console him a bit.

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre's shoulders slumped visibly with relief, and he nearly wept.

He had hoped that Carey would accept this burden, but he also would have understood completely if he hadn't. Sastre and Carey had been close once, very close, in fact. If Sastre had ever had anything even close to a best friend, it had been Carey Coulter. But he'd thrown all that away more than twenty years ago, when he'd disappeared into the wide world and severed all ties with anyone and everyone that he held dear. He had done it to protect them, knowing that Darian wouldn't hesitate to torment and kill them to make Sastre suffer.

But, in so doing, he hadn't been able to be there for Carey when the other hunter had needed him most. Seeing his friend in this situation, his life on the verge of being washed away by the same alcohol that had almost killed Sastre years earlier, it made him wonder if he could have helped him through this, if he'd been around. Instead, he'd turned his back on Carey, on everyone...

God, what other damage might his absence have done, and to who?

Before he could stop himself, Sastre stood up and strode toward Carey, embracing the other man with his good arm, his eyes remaining closed as he spoke, his voice quiet and controlled.

"I'm sorry, Carey, for all of this... For everything. I'm sorry for leaving without a word, for abandoning you to this... I'm sorry for being selfish, and for being a coward. And I promise, I won't go down without a fight. And until whatever happens happens, I'll be around if you need me."

Patting Carey hard on the back, he stepped away, feeling a bit self-conscious, and wondering what exactly had spurred on that little display of camaraderie. But even as he wondered that, the realization dawned on him, and he knew.

Carey was his best friend.

[carey01]

With all that had recently passed, he felt a bit stronger now. Having moral support from his closes friend, who rekindled that will, that had been extinguished years ago. Carey had overcome many obstacles in his past, first was surviving when he used to be a ranger back in the army. Then were the creatures he started hunting, at times he thought he wouldn't see his kids again, but somehow he aways came through. This drinking habit he had, was just another obstacle in his way, which had been consuming him ever since the death of his wife. The road he now walks, will not the easiest, but with the strength of those who support him, he knows he will beat this beast. With Sastre with him, it had been a long time, that he had this feeling of not being as lonely.

There was no way, he was going to refuse a favor from him. It wasn't like he was just any regular hunter, he was one who was very close to him. If Sastre wanted him to find this person, he was going to do so. Knowing that his old friend would the same for him, if he were in his shoes. In the life of a hunter, hearing another hunter ask a favor like Sastre did, it must mean that they know death is coming for them. Which he hated most, being the reason why he distanced himself from most hunters and even his kids. With the thought of him becoming good friends with a hunter, then they end up dead on the next hunt. Carey always kept his meetings with other hunters strictly professional, to avoid moments like this.

Carey was a bit glad, that Sastre came when he did. Knowing if he didn't, he would still be drinking himself to death. Hearing his friend talk, with his hand resting on his shoulder. It seemed like he blamed himself a bit, for not being there for Carey. He didn't hold a grudge, since Carey knew it was his fault. Everything was his fault, he was too obsessed and broken to even care about anything. "You know what, Sastre..." He began. Taking a deep breath in, moving away from his grip slightly. "You have nothing to be sorry for... I was the one who done tis to myself. What you just said is something I should say to my kids, but i think they rather know me as "that man." I feel that I was the one being selfish, only thinking about myself, not considering the feelings of my kids or even yours when you weren't around." Carey said, with his voice slightly cracking, trying not to cry again. "I guess we were both cowards, Sastre." Said with a small chuckle at the end. "Yeah... I will be here for you too, if you need me."

Wiping the small droplet of tears from his eyes, not turning around until it was all gone. There was nothing wrong with crying, he just hated feeling helpless. "So, let's move on to a less depressing conversation. How's that academy doing? Haven't seen it since the kids used to be there." Carey said as his facial expression changed to a smirk, but could still notice the pain behind it. Keeping his mind busy for a bit, would be good for him. As the back of his mind is still trying to tempt him with the thought of alcohol.

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre leaned against the wall, running a hand carefully through his hair.

This had become a much more emotional reunion than he'd been expecting, but despite everything, he realized that he felt better than he had in a long time. It felt good, knowing that he had a friend again. It felt good to be able to trust someone else with his secret, as well. He'd told Madison a couple nights back, and that had helped a bit, but it seemed that after telling a second person, a little more of the weight he'd been carrying around for so long was gone.

He felt guilty as well, though. He'd always tried so hard to never make promises or oaths. But on the few occasions that he had, he took pride in knowing that he kept them. Now, though, he'd broken one of his longest kept, most sacred oaths, twice. What kind of person was he becoming? And was it a better person, or worse?

Carey's words about the academy brought Sastre out of his brooding.

"The academy?" he asked, shaking his head. "I really never had much to do with it, actually. It was still just an idea that was being tossed around when... when I left." He paused, letting the dark memories of those times wash over him, then bottling them up and burying them deeply once again. He'd deal with them later. Or not. It didn't really matter.

"I'm still not entirely sure that its a good idea, honestly," he added, wandering over to the sink to fill two glasses with water. Picking them both up--which was awkward with one hand--he walked over and handed one to Carey. "Listen: whenever the urge to drink strikes you, have water instead. It's not easy at first, but eventually you're body will come to expect water instead of alcohol. Trust me." Sipping his water, he leaned against the wall again, falling silent.