It had been years and years since Kanos Ilarion Styx stepped foot into the pub that rested within the depths of London, well within the magical community. Kanos had been away for a while now, and had some alone time he desperately needed. Within one slender hand, rested the Daily Prophet that held events from all over the world, while he twirled a spoon within his tea, keeping it stirred. Leaving his wife at home seemed like a punishment enough, but Kanos was on a mission. He had been on one for a while, which separated him from his family. Now, it was time to find them, and from what he heard, this was something different. He continued to stir, his dark, onyx eyes stuck to the newspaper. From this alone, it was leading him down a path that would have a grand ending. Kanos immediately stopped reading as he heard someone speaking. Now, this was curious. The company here were shady at best. It did not help that he himself looked shady. He was dressed in dark robes, darker than the room. It matched his slick, black hair. His skin was very pale, almost white. His features were rather pointed and angled.
'Let me hear him say it again. Let me hear him say that he knew where the Scitorari headquarters were at all along,' though Kanos as he stopped stirring his tea long enough to take a sip. This drunk had lost his marbles if he thought he knew where they were at. Kanos knew as much as anyone that no one common would ever know the true hide out. That was be much too obvious. He poked his nose into the newspaper once more, reading up on some more of the events. People like this were just so amusing. It brought a smirk to his thin lips as the others fell for his ridiculous tales.
Radoul was also amused by the inebriated louts he was surrounded by, but he had no time to mess with them. He was a man on a mission. Forty years or more in Azkaban tended to give greater context on what was important, and there had only been one important thing in his life before the slammer. One important person. Seeking him out, however, was proving to be a bigger task than he'd anticipated. His resources were few and his contacts near non-existent, so the Bulgarian ex-con was reduced to poking around old haunts for word of Kalif Zhefarovich the third.
"I'm looking for someone," he was saying casually to the barkeep. The man actually rolled his eyes. "This isn't a Bond film, pal," the barkeep snorted. "We keep our patrons privacy." "Kalif Zhefarovich the third," Radoul said, ignoring the man's rubbish. "Pale blonde hair, spikey like he's been in out a blizzard, very tall." "Did you not hear me? We don't do-"
Radoul got up and left the bar to move amongst the patrons. He was too damn old for time wasters. Some years ago he would have broken the man's teeth just for a laugh, but time gifted ever-growing perspective. The bar patrons were even less helpful, although one woman warned him off throwing around that particular surname so casually. He just smiled at her disquietingly. If only she knew.
A familiar name caused Kanos to perk his head up. He looked up to see a rather large man asking about Kalif Zhefarovich the Third. That was a name that he had not heard in years. Kanos took another drink of his tea, and he held a bony hand up. "Good sir, over here," Kanos motioned for the male to come over. Someone who knew Kalif from his previous name had to be someone from the past. Kanos stood up and walked toward the man, meeting half way. Kanos was extremely tall, and his features was that of a family member. "I know who you are talking about." Kanos shrugged slightly, "Looks like someone electrocuted him, always acts like he has a stick shoved up his ass?" He waited for a confirmation, before he would spill the magic beans. Kanos walked back to his table and took his tea, and set the cup down to be collected by the waitresses. Kanos folded his arms across his chest and continued, "His surname is Styx now." Kanos gave a smirk and went back to his table, figuring the man would definitely want to know more. Kanos luckily knew where to find the man. After all, it was relatively easy since he was a public figure, so to speak.
Radoul was close to moving on. It was either that or start drinking, and it was dangerous for a man like him to imbibe too much. It tended to make him argumentative. He was reaching for his wand holster to put up an umbrella when a figure in the corner called him over. The Bulgarian turned from the door and made his way over to the man, parting the crowd of patrons like the Red Sea.
"You know him?" Radoul rumbled. The answer he received made him grin widely. Finally, someone who actually knew what they were talking about. He surmised that wizard was family, either close or distant, judging by his extraordinary height. Radoul wasn't particularly good with faces, but since there was only one face he cared to remember, he could see the faint traces of resemblance between Kanos and Kalif. "Why Styx- and who is he to you?" Step one- verify. Step two- follow. His hunt was drawing to a close.
Kanos smirked as the man asked if he knew him. Of course he knew him. Everyone in the family did. The only thing was, Kanos had a very different background compared to the others in the family. Kanos stood close to him, and whispered, "Back in 2000, Kalif got in trouble with a man named Tristan Drage, someone that got his best friend arrested over a Quidditch fight in the world cup in 1994. To make sure he disappeared, he changed his name and went back to his homeland." Kanos had a suspicion that this was the man that was arrested during the game. After all, he heard it was a big, dangerous man, and this man sure fit that description. Kanos knew a little bit too much about Kalif, but one thing he knew, was that the man's faith in the Dark Lord was demolished too soon after the downfall. Kanos no longer identified with the same group, since his search ended in vain. Kanos extended his hand and spoke softly, "He isn't even in Europe anymore. Come with me, and I'll show you the new Patriarch of my family." Kanos was positive that this man was close somehow, and boy, Kalif would get a shock when he saw both of them again. It had surely been too long.
As soon as Radoul was informed that Kalif wasn't even in Europe, he knew he'd struck it lucky. He also noted that the man hadn't shared any information about himself. He didn't trust him as far as he could throw him (admittedly further than most people), but he trusted his information about Kalif. It was as solid a lead as he was ever going to get. Mystery-man was a family member, and seemed to understand the Zhefarovich's hierarchy better than Radoul. Apparently Kalif was the Patriarch of the Zhefarovich's now, as well. Too right.
Radoul was unfamiliar with the name Drage, but the trouble must have been big for his friend to go underground. He was certain Kalif would have come out on top, unless he'd turned into a simpering ***** while Radoul was gone- unlikely. His grin widened and he accepted Kanos' hand, reigning in his thrill of anticipation. Finally ... After all these years.
Kanos' slender fingers curled around the man's hand, and without even asking who he was, enemy or foe, Kanos apparated, only to reappear outside a village. Brightstone was what it was called. From what he could gather, this was very lucky indeed. This was during the breaks. Kalif may or may not be around here. It depended on the professor. "Knowing him, he would be leaving the potion ingredients shop. I have no idea where that is." Kanos had never been here, and only knew of the atlas. It was not clear on the locations of whichever store. His eyes loomed around the place. Finally, he spotted the appropriate store, and peered inside the window. Ah, very lucky! The man they were looking for was right inside. And he was checking his things out. It seemed like he was alone too. "Boy, he is going to be so surprised." Kanos was speaking more or less to himself at that point. His eagerness to make Kalif shocked would be a delight. Hopefully, the man would forgive him for not kneeling. Kanos took a step back from the window, to watch as the Patriarch exited.
"It has been a very long time, brother," Kanos spoke coolly, in order to get his attention. "I also brought someone who knew you from the previous life. I'm sure you will recognize him. I almost didn't." Kanos motioned toward Radoul, almost like he had known him all along. Well, he wasn't on a first name basis, but he was just a year below the two of them. Kanos kept to himself mostly during the school year, only watching and observing. He changed his name to Styx once he heard about Kalif's little incident. After all, the two were close during the holidays while they were in school, until after the war when Kanos vanished off the face of the earth, only to try to find Voldemort. Any trace of him. All of it was for naught and Kanos gave up his dream about seven years ago.
The landscape around them changed drastically. They were definitely in another country, although fortunately it appeared to use English, a language Radoul could still speak. The big man disliked being entirely dependent upon another person to make their way, but at least he was used to taking a back seat to the proceedings. He followed Kanos and kept an eye out for any sort of potions-selling proprietors, but his guide got there first.
Radoul impatiently waited for Kanos' introduction. Kalif was there, standing right in front of him, and there was too much chit chat going on. Once the younger Styx gestured to him, however, he was able to spread his arms wide and boom "Kalif!", causing many heads to turn in the street. Before his childhood friend could bow out, he picked him up in a bone crushing hug and squeezed the life out of the DADA Professor. "You bastard, you have not aged," Radoul rumbled before setting Kalif down again. "Forty years and barely a wrinkle, Mister Styx." The Bulgarian was showing all his teeth in the biggest smile he'd worn in a very long time. He almost felt sorry for his friend.
Kalif was buying some ingredients for that blasted wolfsbane potion, trying to help out one of his brothers that married a werewolf. He was only doing this because the brother and his family were planning on going to Europe. Bulgaria to be exact. There were many things about the man that Kalif did not like, but he would admit that he would be a powerful ally, with Auror training and all. Kalif noticed that the man did not talk a lot, which was a good thing. Kalif just remembered that many of others that needed the tattoo. His brother didn't need it. Kalif supposed that their father got a hold of him and made him forget somehow. There was no telling. As soon as Kalif exited the building, making his brother hold the bag, he heard someone speak. Not just someone. Two people. His eyes widened at the appearance of Kanos, but moreso at Radoul. Kalif believed him to have died years ago!
That was when it happened. A damn hug. Kalif thought that his ribs were going to crush, before trying to force him away. Kalif hated being touched by others that weren't his wife. A grimace fell on his pale face. Kalif coughed a few times before he folded his arms over his chest. "I think you just gave me one, Radoul." He looked to Kanos since Radoul mentioned his last name. Must have been him. "And how do you two know each other? Kanos didn't exactly hang out with us."
At long last, Amauri figured out why Kalif had been there for his son's wedding. It was because they were related and his son was Kalif's nephew. The more gut wrenching news was that while he was an Auror, he killed his own aunt. He took the life of Raisa Zhefarovich. It bothered him greatly. After Kalif finished with the supplies, and practically shoved them into his arms, Amauri rolled his eyes. There was something about werewolves that his older brother hated. At least she was a damn pure-blood. That should be good enough. But apparently not. As soon as they were outside, the thing he saw was a little disturbing. Someone was hugging Kalif. Amauri had to stop himself from cracking up because of how Kalif was very tense, and seemed like he was in agony inside. Amauri looked to the other male, who looked similar to Kalif. Another relative? Amauri folded his arms across his chest, before the man introduced himself as Kanos, his older brother, and dragged him away to allow Kalif and Radoul to speak alone. 'This is utterly annoying,' thought Amauri with a groan.
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