(no subject)

When Quentin finally returned to Fillory, he was still a broken man. However, he was left a little wiser by his time spent in the world where magic wasn't used and wasn't supposed to exist. He hadn't healed from Alice's death, but he had learned from it. This was quite possibly the first time Eliot had seen him in a suit as he hadn't stopped to change before heading straight to the castle.

No longer the excited adventurer, some of his spirit had obviously been broken. He didn't carry his bow or any item that might aid him in combat. He was simply...Quentin Coldwater. Although not the same confused boy Eliot had come upon during their first meeting.

"Eliot." He was hurting, even now. Even through five surgeries and physical therapy. Because no medicine and no amount of magic could heal a shattered heart. This was a wound Eliot would know best from his own experience with Mike.

"Sorry it took me so long. What did I miss?"