Chains of Command [Aeseth]

[Eitan Angevin]

1 Ash 121 Steel
Hall of Reconciliation

"Ah, Mister Angevin," she said, looking up briefly from her desk.

"Vigilant Richter." He bowed. He sat. He knew by now that she cared little for the niceties, but he performed them anyhow, and prepared himself for the inevitable interruptions and unbuttoned his jacket.

She pushed a paper to his side of the desk.

"Sign this and Fverard Manor is yours to rename as you wish."

He took the proffered quill and signed his name. He held the wax over the candle flame, spilled enough beside his signature that he could push his signet ring into the wax, leaving the stylized lion of Angevin.

"Very good," she said tersely, sliding an ash steel key ring to him, as well as a portfolio. "Your keys. The deed."

"Thank you, Vigilant."

She ignored his thanks as she ignored his other polite gestures. She was clean and efficient as a physician's scalpel, and as uncaring.

"The investigation of Ava Albrecht's—"

"Underway," she cut in. It was a dismissal. He knew that.

"I understand," he said, pleased that her efficiency might help bring justice to whoever had killed Albrecht's mother. "When her personal effects are no longer evidence, I would like them released to me or to her son."

Pale blue eyes came up to assess him. "Growing fond of him, are we?"

"He is an asset of the Order and a soldier of the Corps," Angevin asserted. "I will do my duty, of course, but I have been working in close proximity with him and he has performed well in service to the State. I am not unfeeling."

"Noted." If there was a hint of humor in her voice or in her mien, he couldn't be certain. "Once her effects are processed, they will be sent on to Fverard Manor and you can keep them for him until such time as he desires them."

"Thank you, Vigilant." He stood to go.

"One more thing," she said, forestalling his departure. He didn't sit back down, not certain it would be necessary. She slid a dossier across the desk to him. He picked it up and began to scan it.

"Aeseth Leichenberg?"

"Your new mentee."

"They're older than I am."

"I'm pleased to know that you can read."

"Vigilant, with all due respect, I am a full-time airman in the Corps. My duties to the Order have to dovetail in order for me to be of use to either—"

"Leichenberg is a dilettante," she cut in. "They have many talents, but no skill honed enough to elevate them to Watcher. When the Noble Gambit is on patrol, they can remain behind and pursue whatever leads you assign them. When your airship is in Zaichaer, you will oversee their training until their skills befit a Watcher. Until then, they are your Aspirant." When he opened his mouth to say something, she railroaded him. "This is a challenge for you, Mister Angevin. Just as the Lysanrin experiment. Your devotion to the State is no longer in question, at least no more so than anyone else's. I realize I have been called a zealot. But the time has come for you to add your own career trajectory to your list of priorities. New challenges and responsibilities will allow you to build yourself up within the Order and within the Corps. You can be of greater service to the State when your stature is greater. From Watcher to Seeker. From Commander to Captain. Train Leichenberg. Then, someday, you may sit across from them as we are now."

He considered. "Can this wait until after—"

"There is no time like the present, Mister Angevin. Your holiday doesn't commence until the Fifth. That gives you four days to orient yourselves. They are waiting outside for you now. Enjoy your birthday."

Angevin didn't gape. He paused, collected the dossier, the portfolio with his deed, the key, and all, and bowed before leaving. Upon exiting her office, his eyes sought out Leichenberg.

[Aeseth]

Aeseth walked casually down the Halls of Sorrow. The name had such a fitting chime to it, as opposed to the more official yet drab “Sub-Terran Prison”. The sound of each clack-tap of their boots danced down the halls, creating a cacophony of dozens of feet in each direction; to some, these were the footsteps of devils. To those like Aeseth, they were the footsteps of angels, ready to do the holy work of Zaechaer.

They opened a metal door, the door groaning as it opened to reveal a near-total darkness. A sliver of flame danced maybe ten feet away. The candle rested on a cart placed against a wall; without looking away from the darkness to their now left, they grabbed another, unmelted candle, using the first to light the second. “Have you been faring well, deary?” Aeseth asked, as the light quickly revealed a weary, frightened face. Of course, no response was possible, with their mouth gagged.

Kneeling before the gagged individual, Aeseth held the candle to the gagged’s figure. The light revealed chains binding them, arms and ankles locked behind their frame. The shadows danced, like an excited audience awaiting the next act of agony. Aeseth cupped their face, tilting it up; their captive was too drained to resist, eyes focusing not on Aeseth as much as their general direction.

With the unoccupied hand, Aeseth brushed their gloved hands across their captive’s bruised skin. The captive flinched in response. A small frown crept across Aeseth’s face. They grabbed at a bruised arm, eyebrow cocking in delight as a pained whimper crept out of the gag. Eyes raised up to meet Aeseth’s with a storm of emotions: anger, helplessness, both combined with a twinkle of something more.

Aeseth stood, tracing their fingers across the metal suspended from the ceiling, their personal chains of command. The cold bit gently through the gloved hand, making it known that not even this small piece of clothing could hide flesh from Chill’s bite.

“I’ll be back for you, lovely.” Aeseth rested the candle on the nearby table, out of reach of the captive, letting the flame run its course to dim over time, slowly swallowing the area in darkness, a gentle reminder of the fading hope in the room.

With a bounce in their step, Aeseth walked to Richter’s office. Rounding a corner, they barely caught themselves from running into Angevin. “Ah! Just the one I was looking for!” Aeseth said, preening themselves back to their full composure. “I heard I’ll be leaning on you for learning my way around this set of halls. What’ve we got on our agenda today?”

[Eitan Angevin]

The person matching the description of Aeseth Leichenberg nearly ran into him rounding a corner. He wasn't prepared for this, but he had been faking it his whole life until he felt the confidence he portrayed. In the Meike Richter school of mentorship, he ought to have torn the Aspirant a new one. He was not, however, Meike Richter. The airmen on the Noble Gambit had quickly found a happy medium between respect and camaraderie with him, but this was the Order of Reconciliation, not the Air Defense Corps. Leichenberg wasn't just a subordinate; they were his mentee.

He looked the Aspirant up and down, aligning what he had read briefly in the dossier with the person themself. A bit older than Angevin, but not much. A bit shorter than Angevin, but not much. He wished this could have waited until after the expedition; he needed to focus on that and it would have given him time to consider how he was going to play this. Now, he had to do it on the fly. Fucking Richter.

"That almost sounded like a pick-up line at first," he said and cracked a grin. His posture was military correct, but he canted his weight to one leg, cocking his head as he noted little things about their manner and appearance that corroborated what had been reported to him. He supposed he ought to rely more on his own intuition and investigatory skills than what was compiled for him; perhaps that was one of the lessons his own dreadful mentor wanted him to learn.

"All right, I'm Eitan Angevin," he said. "Watcher. Warder. Commander. Lots of different titles depending on where I am and who I'm talking to. I don't mind things being informal in private and, of course, I want to earn your respect rather than take it as given, but I would appreciate you showing proper deference in public. If nothing else, people need to trust the hierarchy and the discipline. Walk with me."

It was an order—sort of. He had to know he could trust Leichenberg to follow orders or else they would be a chaotic duo. At the same time, he couched it as an invitation. His style of leadership didn't involve grinding people under his boot heel. That was for the bedroom. A joke!

"So, tell me: what do you think is holding you back from advancement within the Order?"

[Aeseth]

Aeseth watched Eitan’s eyes graze up and down their figure. Post-haste, they shifted themselves into a tall, statue-like posture befitting the Order. Their right eyebrow popped up in amusement, and a wry smile snuck across their face. Salacious thoughts whistled past their mind, and were brushed away just as quickly. Calm yourself, now’s not the time for such nonsense.

As Eitan commented on an unexpected Floydian slip Aeseth made, they had to pause in confusion at first. Then, they pursed their lips inward, biting them in suppressed laughter. “Well, here’s to spectacular first impressions, eh? That’s funny, I hadn’t realized that until it was too late.”

Aeseth proceeded to firm their posture further as they listened to Eitan describing their roles for Zaichaer, nodding. “There’s little more worthwhile than a respect well earned. I won’t have you, or I, lose face to others, absolutely not. But, yes, I’d prefer an authentic… whatever we manage to make here.”

Watching Eitan begin to stride down the hall, Aeseth quickly followed behind, back straight and chin cocked upwards, keeping step with their superior. “Frankly, I’ve several other obligations grasping for my attention, sometimes more urgently than that of the Order. Don’t misunderstand me, the Order is of significance, of course. Learning this, uh, magic nonsense is quite a headache, in multiple senses of the word. Between feeling dreadful touching the stuff and not understanding it, it’s just a timely thing.”

---

Their thoughts wandered to Vigilant Richter. Richter, that fork-tongued witch. They couldn’t put their finger on it, but her voice sounded familiar. Thoughts of the night their family fell echoed through their mind. From behind secret chamber walls, they could’ve sworn they heard her, and her cold, soft, merciless voice amidst those plotting against the Leichenbergs.

It will be a joyous day when they could have her in their chains, wringing that betrayer’s throat.

[Eitan Angevin]

"Quite," he agreed with a quirk of his mouth.

"From what I gather, you have been initiated in the Rune of Kinetics. While I cannot train you in its use, I can train with you in one of the warded salles. I can protect myself from the worst you can send my way, but it will give you an opportunity to use it without fear of harming anyone. We want you to have a firm control of your abilities, the better to leverage them against enemies of the State, but also to keep the citizenry safe even from your magical abilities.

"I won't lie: Richter is a right cunt. She's demanding and unyielding, but when she takes an interest in someone, she gives them the opportunity to hone themselves under her exacting eye. I do not enjoy her attentions, but they do make me better at what I do. It would behoove you to prioritize the Order. Even my work in the Air Defense Corps is done in conjunction with my work as a Watcher. We are all put in places where our skills and everything else we have to offer can best be utilized.

"We will work on your martial skills and I will require your assistance on my investigations. If someone doesn't rise beyond the level of Aspirant... well, the Order can be quite controlling of those with Runes, even those who are sanctioned. What are these other obligations that are distracting you from your work? Perhaps I can help."

By this point, Angevin was certainly a past master at delegation, multi-tasking, and logistical arrangements. He juggled his responsibilities to the Air Defense Corps, the Order of Reconciliation, and his social caste. He could understand feeling overwhelmed, but to him, it was a matter of self-discipline above all else. That, he could impart upon Aeseth Leichenberg if they were willing to learn.

[Aeseth]

Aeseth shook their head, jostling the heinous thoughts of Richter to their appropriate, dark corner of their mind.

“I quite think I’d enjoy that, training with you. I don’t think I’ve the learning or focus just yet to do harm, though that may speak bounds of my ignorance and naivety on the matter. Perhaps it’s really as dangerous as a child playing with a Looger, shooting about and hurting someone. Shall we begin today, then? Or are other things we’re to attend to prior to that?

Hone themselves under her eye? For what end? Aeseth’s suspicions churned more violently.

“What’s it of someone that would catch her eye? Is it the gestation of excellence? Perhaps a pity of them, and a need to keep them in line? Or, Earth forbid, something else?” Aeseth caught themselves beginning to ramble, their tone becoming more angry and indignant. “Whatever the matter, I understand. She has her rank for a reason, as is oft the case. I’ll watch and learn and refine myself, for Zaichaer.”

At the mention of an investigation, Aeseth’s voice rose an octave. “Oh? An investigation, you say? What does that entail, pray tell? Certainly, both with Rune and Body, I’ll gladly accept any more training I can receive. As for my obligations, well… I, too, have investigations I pursue, and chase. It’s my primary contribution to the State, information. I’d have to ponder how you may be able to help; what comes immediately to mind as far as how you could assist me with such a thing?”

Without warning, where there were once two sources of boot-clacking in the halls, there was one. Aeseth stopped and turned to look down a hallway to their right, watching, their demeanor relaxing, sloughing off any formal posture or demeanor. Where their eyes were once haughty, quick, and observant, they now focused entirely on whatever was down the hallway. They smiled a gentle, care-free smile.

From the hallway came a young man, brown hair short and worn just well enough for the Order, yet careless enough to express that, truly, does it matter how their hair appears? They talked quietly with each other briefly, an exchange lasting a mere minute, though in that minute Aeseth seemed as naked as can be. The young man handed Aeseth a letter; Aeseth hugged the man, to his surprise.

As the young man turned to walk away, Aeseth turned to face Eitan. Like donning a mask, their face and demeanor shifted yet again, like an entirely new person filled those shoes.

“Pardon me. Where were we?”

[Eitan Angevin]

Aeseth asked several questions, but was distracted before Eitan could properly respond. The Watcher watched as Aeseth spoke to a young man, embracing him even. It seemed out of character for Aeseth, but of course, Eitan hardly knew them. The best course for him would be to observe his new pupil, the better to know them and the better to train them. While he didn't approve of Richter's methods, he did want to develop positive relationships with those he mentored; it would help him to have a network of trusted individuals within the Order. While he believed in the Order, he knew there were plenty of power players within it who cared more about politics than protecting the populace from irresponsible magic.

A dark eyebrow arched, but if Aeseth wasn't going to be forthcoming, Eitan wasn't going to pry. He had no reason to believe anything untoward was happening under his nose. If they were going to develop a trusting rapport, he had to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm not certain what catches Richter's eye. With me, I assume that my parentage and social placement fit into her plans. I'm connected both to the military and society, I've submitted to a Rune, but I am not seeking magical power—that can quickly turn to obsession even among the members of the Order. As for why you have caught her eye—we shall see, eh?" He smiled.

As they went back to walking, he began to lead the way to the practice salles. If they could find one that was warded, he could see where Aeseth stood with regard to combat as well as magic.

"We'll get to my investigations soon enough. For now, I think we ought to see what you can do. From what I gather, you've an impressive breadth of education and training, but you lack depth. So we can ascertain where your strengths are and push those. Hopefully, they will keep you alive long enough to work on your weaknesses as well." His tone was more collegial than anything, implying perhaps that he was aware of his own failings.

"Ah, here we are." He opened the door and motioned Aeseth inside. The room was empty but for the slightly padded floor, the racks of training weapons, and the mirrors on the wall. It wasn't warded, but he didn't think Aeseth was a powerful enough Kinetic to do much damage unless he broke a window. "After you."

[Rune]

R E V I E W

Lore:

Eitan:
8

Aeseth:
8

Points: 10 each, not for magic

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: None

Notes: Thread was abandoned two season ago and the remaining party requested review if Aeseth returns and wants lores just let me know.