Elevation. [Brenner]

[Eitan Angevin]

"I always thought so," he interjected quietly. If he was honest, he wished Brenner a speedy rise to captaincy, then a lateral move for himself as Captain Dornkirk's XO. Though he would always strive to reach his father's stature, a part of him was certain that he ought to be kept on a tighter leash than that, lest his self-control ever waver and put his fellow airmen and citizens at risk. Ought a man whose soul was scarred by runic inscription be trusted with such responsibilities? It was a problem he struggled with before sleep claimed him every night. In any case, even when boyhood became more difficult to maneuver through than shark-infested waters, he had looked up to Brenner Dornkirk. A part of him had assumed that his public unkindnesses were backhanded attempts to prepare him for reality.

But his smile was sincere when he matched the toast and drank. It wouldn't be so terrible to be Brenner's XO and let his striving to better himself only serve to help Brenner do the same. At least, it had worked in the games they played as boys. But now they were men and their games held the weight of deadly consequences.

"Hail Zaichaer!" A few nearby officers took up the cheer, both from patriotic sentiment and the desire to quaff more ale and bask in the camaraderie of valiant men.

After ruminating a bit upon what he said of the other member of the Order, he had to add, albeit reluctantly, "I have learned a great deal from the Wardens, but I am glad that my primary assignment is the Air Defense Corps. Perhaps because of how I grew up, the military makes more sense to me than the byzantine structure of the Order. I have no specific grievances, but I know that when I have faltered... I have heard the siren song of easy power. Thankfully, there is sufficient oversight to keep me on the straight and narrow. But when magi become powerful within the Order..." He sighed. "I ought to trust in the structure of the State, but I have niggling fears all the same."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Mm." Brenner grunted, thoughtfully at Eitan's voiced concerns about the Reconciliators. "Sometimes I wish I'd joined the Order, but my father was rather insistent that I choose a more public path. The Reconciliators work better in the shadows, and that wouldn't do for a newly prominent family. Plus the tie-in with one boy designing the ships the other boy flew was a marketing angle he couldn't pass up." He considered the matter further,

"Though, honestly, after what I saw on Glade the 8th, I'm thankful to have taken the path I did. I could've ended up like that poor Corporal Carrigan." He looked down with a grimace and shook his head, "Remember the fallen." He said, using the excuse to raise his mug again in a toast followed by the obligatory swig.

"Well. In any event, I've been wracking my brain about how to aid the cause ever since then and doing a lot of research on how to better defend Zaichaer from the mounting, magical menace that's looming to the North. If Talon is really as dangerous as I think he is, we're just not equipped right now." He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning conspiratorially close to Eitan to speak in hushed tones.

"I can't tell you any details about what I have in the works, but I've been drafting a proposal to the Grand Marshal's office for the resources to put a team together. If I get my way, you'll be one of the first people I tap." He promised, punctuating it with a pat on the back as he leaned back away and resumed speaking at his normal volume.

"Change is in the air in Zaichaer, my friend, and I want to be in the vanguard when it things really shift."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Your father is a canny man," he conceded, though he kept quiet about the Reconciliators for a space. Eventually, though, he had to say, "I am glad you have nothing to do with the Order."

His grimace didn't last past the toast to the fallen, but part of his training had been extreme exposure to the evils of magic. He would protect Brenner from that if he could.

"I would, of course, be honored to help in any way I can. The Noble Gambit is scheduled for some needed maintenance, so I shan't be far." He paused thoughtfully over the dregs of his ale — they did drink rather quickly, or perhaps it was efficiently as they were military men. "I want to be obedient to the State. I do follow orders. But sometimes, I think if we are to be men to make Zaichaer proud, we must actively pursue lines of thinking... if not lines of action... to offer the State all we have to offer."

It wasn't seditious talk. If anything, he was underlining his support for Brenner's initiative. He too would rather be in the vanguard, zealous as he was. He didn't want to die a martyr, though he would if it served the Fatherland. And he had died a thousand times a hero under Brenner's command, at least in their boyish imaginations. He smiled. It was a marvel how human he looked if one didn't know his shameful parentage.

"If I don't make the cut, I hope you will let me know if there is anything else I can do to help. Even if it's only to bring your idea to the Admiral's attention. Sometimes that was all Eitan was worth, but he understood that fact.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"He is, at that." Brenner conceded, matter-of-factly as he absently ran his finger along the handle of his stein. He glanced up, a tad bemused at Eitan's comment about the Order, but he didn't query him on the matter. Instead, he closed his fist about the handle he'd been fidgeting with and took a few gulps.

"Well, if all goes well, you'd be temporarily assigned to me to do some work that is decidedly outside the jurisdiction of the ZADC. I figure I've been grounded all this time, why not dig my heels in even deeper." He chuckled at his own pun, though Eitan lacked the context to properly get the joke. That rather than taking to the air, his plans would lead underground.

"I think it's about knowing your place, knowing your talents and figuring out how to marry the two. There are those who serve best by offering naught but their obedience, and then there are men of action- Leaders who must pave the path toward progress. I don't know if I'm destined to be a great man or a martyr or... Maybe my name will fade into oblivion. That doesn't matter, as long as Zaichaer advances and her people remain liberated from the menace of magic." He gestured across the bar for another round.

"Actually, the one good thing that came out of that disaster of an execution attempt on Glade the 8th was that I impressed a rather prominent figure." He made sure Eitan's eyes were locked on his before he elaborated, "The Grand Marshal's mum." He said, tapping the bar a few times for emphasis and pausing to let that sink in.

"So, at the very least, he's heard my name and knows what I did on that day. I rather suspect that may be how I ended up with the diplo assignment tending to the pidge prince. I wonder whether he was set on testing me..." He trailed off, "But certainly, if my letter is ignored, I might pursue the avenue of the admiral."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan's smile was bemused when the joke went over his head, but Brenner was a clever fellow and made good jests — at least when they weren't at his expense. But he moved quickly on and it did seem as though they were of the same mind about everything, which was a comfort. There places were now at the helms of two well-respected airships, though both were not flying for the nonce. It seemed as good a time as any to be proactive about what they might do for Zaichaer.

"I believe you will be remembered," he murmured, though Brenner might not have registered it. He kept on about what all Eitan had missed in his absence and he nodded at the mention of the Grand Marshal's mother. He had perfected being innocuous when he was young, and so he had overheard many pearls of wisdom that his father had dropped as before swine. Even among Zaichaer's loyal children, there were games of power. It was a meritocracy — those who were savvy at the accumulation and execution of power would be best able to direct the city-state's. Ingratiating himself upon the Grand Marshal's mother was a strong move, no doubt honestly done. She had raised a great man, after all. She ought to recognize another one in the making.

"The Lady's good opinion may be enough to highlight your plan out of all the other issues besetting our leader," he said. "Definitely best to hold the Admiral's esteem back for now, lest your name be too much in his ear." His father's opinions about the Grand Marshal colored his own. If anything, Leir Angevin thought he was best suited to command Zaichaer, and Eitan tended to agree. But if the Grand Marshal was anything like his father, one nudge in the right direction was often enough. Two could lack all subtlety and have the opposite of the intended effect.

He nodded approval and thanked the serving maid. Flashing a smile, she responded in kind. Sometimes it felt like a little anonymity allowed him to pass for human. It was a nice, albeit brief relief.

"Well, if we're to have an important mission soon, we ought to get our drinking out of the way now, eh?"

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"I wasn't fishing..." Brenner chortled, "But I like what I caught." Apparently he had heard Eitan's comment under his breath, after all. He glanced over and acknowledged his fresh ale, albeit not the human being who'd poured and delivered it, grabbing the handle and taking the inaugural swig. He wiped the head off his lips with the back of one pale hand and nodded.

"Sound advice." He agreed, "Just because I serve on the Searing Victory doesn't mean I need to resort to bombarding our glorious leader with beggary. The last thing I'd like to beseem is a nag." He noted, as his turned up from Eitan's face toward the ceiling, where they glazed over as he considered his great endeavour and its myriad implication.

Eitan's playful jest about overindulging in drink brought Brenner's focus back to him, though the elder Air Commander didn't acknowledge the statement itself. He seemed to be continuing from a line of thought over which he'd been musing internally.

"Eitan," He began, suddenly all business. "I'm curious about your-..." He craned his neck and did a quick survey of their surroundings, before placing a hand on Eitan's shoulder and pulling him closer to whisper surreptitiously into his altered ear.

"Negation ability. When you sever a creature from its runic Craft, what becomes of the creature?" If Brenner was to be afforded the State mages he planned to request for his expedition, they were going to be in a uniquely precarious position on the team. The very quarry they sought would be the danger. Though Brenner was confident that Eitan would gladly sacrifice himself for the State, he wouldn't wish to lure him unwitting into that position. Nor did he wish to collect specimens of an unknown force, ignorant to the full implications of what he sought to unleash. It may not work the same as Negation. For all he knew the creatures would seize upon the rune wherever it lay on a creatures body and devoured flesh as well as aether. His readings never elaborated on what became of those mages afflicted by the parasite after it had fed.

[Eitan Angevin]

Everything had been going so well, but he couldn't hide his grimace when Brenner asked about the specifics of his hated, necessary craft. It felt as though Brenner had just casually asked him what position he preferred when engaged in acts of bestiality. There was no way to avoid feeling polluted. And yet, despite the rocky terrain they had crossed, this was his friend and he couldn't bring himself to ruin what looked to be a rebuilding of better times. Finally, he sighed, not even noticing when his hand came up to trace the surgical curve of his ear. Sometimes he thought he felt phantom impressions from the knife-tipped bits that had been removed almost without a trace. He looked human. He acted human. He was not entirely human. He looked like an airman. He acted like an airman. He was not entirely an airman.

"I don't have the skill or power yet to make it permanent," he admitted. Perhaps he had misrepresented himself, which was the action of a lesser man. "I find the rune. 'Tis a physical manifestation of a mark upon the soul. But from there, I can trace the mark, anchoring a shield there and forming it, almost like a ladle..." He made a gesture as though he were scooping soup or corrupted flesh. "I command my shield to block all passage of aether, effectively separating the person from the rune. Eventually, the shield will fail if I don't maintain it. If they are terribly powerful, I might not be their match. But in order to have the time I need to be effective, they will likely be unconscious already. So I maintained this shield, protecting their soul from the runic scar, until their body and soul could be cleansed with fire."

He took a sip of ale to get the bad taste out of his mouth. But Brenner had asked, so he continued to supply information.

"The order has weapons... One that I have seen is a blade ensorcelled with negation and augmented with all manner of mystical etchings. With it... one can actually cut the rune out of a soul while using the knife to cut the mark off of their flesh. But I am not important enough to carry something that powerful and, likely, it ought to belong to someone who hasn't negation themselves. But it does prevent the need to euthanize the poor soul."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Mm." Brenner grunted with a slight grimace of disapproval at the revelation of Eitan's prior hyperbole and shook his head. He didn't chastise him verbally, but he could tell from Eitan's expression that his point had been made. And he was eager to listen, so he didn't let the disapproval linger on his visage. It quickly fell back to being stoically attentive.

By and by, he could tell that this was difficult for Eitan to talk about. It hadn't occurred to him that it would be, because Brenner didn't put himself in the shoes of someone thus afflicted. But realising it must have been a humiliating thing to discuss, he placed a reassuring hand on the younger man's back and let it linger there as he continued. It may have been hard to broach, but it would be important.

"I see." He pursed his lips and pondered, "...and when one of these weapons is employed to amputate the ensorcelled flesh-..." And this was really the meat of the matter he wished to comprehend, "...what becomes of the former mage?" He let his hand slide down off Eitan's back and onto the back of his barstool.

"Do they survive? Do they remain normal? Do they go mad? Enter a vegetative state? Do they outright die?" These might have been state secrets, for all Brenner knew, but they were certainly pertinent to the plans he was beginning to hatch. If he was going to unleash aether eaters on the world, would it be more like a gelding or a genocide? What did he need to prepare his heart to bear the burden of? He could do it, but it wouldn't be easy. Brenner may have been a zealot and an ideologue, but he was not cavalier about the sacrifices he would make for a better future. No matter what the answer to his question was, he knew the sacrifice would be worthwhile. But he also knew that it might cost lives numbering in the millions and that an act of such potent breadth was not to be executed blithely.

[Eitan Angevin]

"That is a more difficult question to answer," he admitted, happy to hurry past Brenner's disappointment. He took a bracing swig of ale.

"If it was done to me? They would have to bandage my arm and keep it clean to prevent infection, and then I ought to be fine. If the person doesn't want it, shows contrition, and wants the curse removed, they are more likely to be resilient. But if they are sunk deep in sin and magic, the removal could be traumatic. Even fatal. If there is a hard science to predict the results perfectly, I haven't learnt it. But, for example, a Dawnmartyr pawns their soul to put it in their weapons. Ripping out the rune wouldn't mend their soul back together. It would be permanently amputated. A hexer damages their soul whenever they use their magic, and that wouldn't be healed. They would remain... stunted. Tainted. They just wouldn't be able to curse innocents."

His eyes cleaved keenly to Brenner's visage, seeking to take in every minute reaction. There was a great deal that they didn't teach people like him, perhaps to prevent state-sanctioned mages from power-seeking or perhaps because it was better to keep all arcane knowledge on a need-to-know basis. And some of this was theoretical as generally, cleansing with fire was the preferred course of action or the well-being of the cleansed magic-user was of less import than the people they would have harmed.

"If your plan gets enacted and I'm assigned to it, I will ask the powers that be within my chains of command to let me research in preparation." As proud as he was of his new commission, the prospect of doing something precise and of great moment for the State was quite exciting.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner considered Eitan's elaboration. He made it clear that he was no authority on the subject, but if his explanation was even partially accurate, it was illuminating all the same. Moreover, it wasn't the worst of the possibilities he'd pondered. It would lighten the burden of sacrifice upon his heart, if those who died were the ones most steeped in sin and the repentant might survive. This was a relief.

"Indeed." Brenner smiled, and nodded firmly. "All that and more may be required of you, if all goes according to plan." The elder Air Commander spoke with an air of grandeur, cryptic though he was. His scheme had been in the works for months, at this point. He'd been making plans in concert with Stefan, but no one outside his immediate family was aware of the endeavour.

"I expect it will be a while before I can be clearer about any of this. But, suffice it to say, if you are a part of this work and we succeed in our aims, no one will question your humanity ever again. You will have been on the right side of history and executed an act of such immense import for the advancement of the Zaichaeri cause, that you will be a hero to the common man and the pride of our great city." He promised.

"I apologise. It's probably annoying to hear me speak in such grandiose terms without going into any real detail, but I believe you'll understand the need for discretion when the time comes for me to let you in on the plot. It's just... If the wrong people caught wind of the endeavour, it could mean the end before we even embark. To say nothing of the potential political ramifications..."