Lame Duck [Florian]

[Eitan Angevin]

Albrecht hadn't been ordered to his bunk, but again, all things considered, it was probably the best course of action for him. Angevin considered him there in his sleeping attire, looking small and broken. At least he didn't seem to be bleeding profusely so the sacrifice of his handkerchief hadn't gone for naught. He was quiet while Albrecht talked himself out, perhaps nervous at how Angevin would react to his actions.

Finally, he cracked a small smile.

"They must have had it out for the outpost folk," he said. "I managed to get through it with just a bit of dirt and exhaustion. Seeing as I stayed behind my ward, I didn't get tagged. Considering we were under fire, I have no problem with you taking the initiative. I told the captain that you followed my orders, which you will do henceforth. When we formally debrief, I'll have questions. I need to better understand how it works so I can utilize your skills, but also keep you and the crew safe when you are required to use them.

"As for trust," he continued, "I show a little, you show a little. That is how we build it. That is how you will build it with the crew, as well. Nothing worthwhile is easy, and few things come overnight."

Angevin stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and tugged at the heck of Albrecht's shirt without asking to examine his wound. His lips pressed into a thoughtful line.

"The medics will be overworked tonight, but normally, you would need to have this checked out before going to your bunk. But you will get more sleep than most tonight, so in the morning, you will have it checked out properly by a medic and you will report immediately for duty thereafter. We will have a great deal of work securing the outpost and the village, and won't be able to leave straight away." He tugged Albrecht's shirt back into place. "Can't have you dying of a preventable infection, now can we?"

For a moment, a wall seemed to come down and Angevin stretched, his arms up, fists by his ears, making things in his neck and shoulders snap, crackle, and pop as he released some of the tension and the weariness settled in. He too had lived through a battle, pouring his own essence into shields to protect himself and others. Most likely, he would be up still when Albrecht awoke. Heavy was the head that wore the crown, it was said—even if he was only the XO.

He sighed.

"Sweet dreams, Albrecht. No rest for the wicked and all that..."

He turned to go.

[Florian]

Florian visibly flinched as Angevin touched him again. The pain of the wound was less pressing than the fear of further harm - but he simply examined the cut and instructed him. No further insult or injury followed. Being so near to the XO only seemed to emphasize how delicate the Lysanrin looked. Almost like a doll — but he prided himself on being tougher than that. And Florian knew he should have seen a medic first, but he also knew that many people with much worse injuries were on the ground and he could survive a night with a sore shoulder and a bit of blood. He had done it before. It was a distinctly strange feeling to be tended to by someone who wasn't his mother, someone who was practically a stranger.

"Yes, sir." was his simple reply to the XO's instruction. "Thank you," He said as the XO left, and a quiet "Try to get some sleep, too." was mumbled as he turned to leave.

His head swirled with self-doubt around his actions. Though he had not been directly ordered to use magic, and if Commander Angevin had been any crueler, he would have reprimanded or worse. Perhaps that would happen during the debriefing. He was not looking forward to the debriefing. A quiet sigh escaped him after Angevin left, and Flor laid back down, dazed. Joining the military had many unintended consequences, but a strange union of trust and magic had far surpassed any reasonable means of expectation. To be useful for who he was and not despite the fact was not something that Florian had considered possible even in his wildest dreams. Even if he were not yet respected, or liked, or trusted by the rest of the crew, his niche was being carved.

As for sweet dreams, the Ashborne had none. He woke the next morning with a sore shoulder but otherwise okay, a fate not shared by any of his bunkmates. Some of the bunks had not even been slept in that night. Florian went through the motions of the morning and was very quickly on his way to see a medic on the ground for his injury.

In almost the same way that Angevin had staunched the bleeding, his coat was pulled back and his shirt pulled to the side. The tired medic cleaned the wound, somehow both gentle and rough with his touch, rubbed into it a strange ointment before it was properly bandaged. Some blood seeped into the bandage, but it was not nearly the amount that had ruined Commander Angevin's handkerchief the night before. As he stood up, though, the medic spit at his feet.

"Better men than you are hurt or dead. Remember that."

Florian stared at the ground and walked away without a word in response as the guilt infiltrated his morning. But with the pain subsided, Florian knew he needed to find Angevin for his debriefing. The Lysanrin hoped that he had gotten some sleep, but there was a part of him that expected the opposite, and a tired, irritable Commander Angevin was who he would have to face.

All the same, Florian found himself scanning the scene for the XO.

[Eitan Angevin]

By the time Albrecht was looking for his XO, an injured crewmember was looking for him. Kloster, one who had heroically pulled a crewmate behind the XO's magical bulwark, called out to him.

"Albrecht." His tone wasn't kind, but there was a hint of something in it, perhaps; a question. He looked at the Lysanrin as though he were a dangerous thing, but it was more wariness than fear, and at least not hate. He was bandaged up and making himself useful. Those who could still work were working. That was the strength of the Corps. "XO wants you in his office." He hitched his chin back toward the Noble Gambit, which hung gently in the air over the medical bivouac like a guardian angel or a bird of prey over her nest of injured chicks.

When Albrecht turned to go, he managed, "Hey." Then, as if it cost him something, "Thanks."

Then he turned to go about his business, trotting toward the outpost with some message or another.

Space was at a premium aboard the airship. Commander Angevin's office was not large, but it was largely private. That was the luxury of it, as well as of his quarters, which were attached. Neither room was larger than Albrecht's bunk, but they were not shared and that was an important distinction. Today, he had the door to his office open as people were coming and going and he couldn't be bothered to wonder who was looking for him. Most of them knew that a closed door meant he was elsewhere or didn't want to be disturbed. His open-door policy made him more accessible to the crew, and the captain was only too glad not to have to bother.

The dark eyes that looked up when Albrecht approached were weary, but alert. He hadn't slept, but he had washed his face and changed his uniform, and made sure his curls were slicked down into military neatness. The noblesse oblige of his youth had translated into a military work ethic that wouldn't let him rest when the people under his command were at risk. This too had quickly endeared him to the men, who were more comfortable knowing that someone with actual pull was there for them.

"Come in, Albrecht." He managed a tight, tired smile. "Close the door behind you."

[Florian]

The military was full of surprises, like the strange regard that hid in Kloster's eyes — and the thanks, though Florian was not sure he had done enough to warrant that. It was welcome all the same. Back up to the Noble Gambit he went, and soon enough he was closing the door to Commander Angevin's office.

It was clear he had not gotten any sleep, but it seemed he had managed to look professional - or at least, presentable - all the same. Not that it mattered much to Florian, who in particular did not give a shit whether or not how anyone looked. Especially when they weren't in Zaichaer, it seemed like there were more important things to worry about. But even tired, Angevin managed to look nice.

"I had my cut bandaged properly, sir." Was the first thing that Florian said after closing the door. A separate piece of guilt ate away at his stomach. If he had conserved some of the aether from the ward instead of catalyzing it all into the ship's wards, he would have been able to keep himself up the entire night and be more helpful. But in his growing fatigue the night before, he had used it all for the ward repair. Though he was unsure if Angevin was aware of that capability, and whether he should bring it up now.

Perhaps it would be more useful to share that later or in an emergency. If he had sustained himself in that manner, he would've had to rest for twice as long unless he wanted to poison himself, and that would make him even more useless than the fact that he had slept for a single night. He had to use it sparingly if he wanted to continue to be useful on the ship.

He knew that Commander Angevin was going to have questions, and for much of his life he had grown accustomed to lying about everything. It would not serve him well to lie now, but the habit stuck to him like lint on black. He supposed it depended on what, exactly, he was asked. Telling the whole truth to the XO would either bite him in the ass later or come in handy, and so far, he seemed to be on his side. The man before him was not nearly as fearful of his power as he was intent on using the Lysanrin as a tool. Florian was sure that their shared desire for him to be seen as useful was just the start of that.

[Eitan Angevin]

"Ah, good," he said, pleased to know that Albrecht could follow orders.

"It won't always be cloak and dagger like this," he promised, nodding to the closed door behind him, then indicated he should take the seat opposite his compact desk. He finished what he was writing and then set his quill aside. "On the one hand, I think speaking frankly about the magic that we do with the State's blessing might make the crew more comfortable, minds greater than mine deem the risk too great, and so when we need to speak in depth about magical endeavors, we will do so behind closed doors. Order business."

He smiled and tapped his nose.

"I'm taking notes now, though my formal report will probably be written when we are en route back to Zaichaer. When I have had time to rest. But I don't want to forget things in the meantime." He was explaining more than he needed to. Perhaps it was the weariness; perhaps he was trying to build bridges with the strange Lysanrin who was now his responsibility.

"I'll need you to write a report from your perspective." He paused. "You can read and write?" If not, there were accommodations he could make. "In any case, remember that I ordered you to use your skills in defense of ship and crew. Don't worry about the exigencies of the bureaucracy. Just write out your experience of events and I will include it with my formal report. First-hand support will be helpful both for strategy and to prove that this little Lysanrin experiment might work out after all."

He was under no illusions that the both of them would be under scrutiny—Albrecht to be sure he wasn't a walking time bomb; Angevin to be sure he could be trusted with greater and greater responsibilities.

"But my first question is, how much risk were you placing yourself in when you walked in front of that fireball?"

[Florian]

"Yes sir, I can read and write." Florian replied. "I should include everything? The extent of the magic I used and all?" If Florian ever sounded timid before, this surpassed it. To not only use his bloodline-given magic but to record the intricacies of his experience and thought process was overwhelming, especially for a governmental report. But he had used it in the defense, and he had been ordered to use it, and Commander Angevin had told him not to worry about the bureaucracy that would surely result from such a report.

Still.

Lysanrin experiment. Maybe he was thinking too hard on that off-handed comment. But considering that Angevin had displayed some knowledge of Lysanrin siphoning, Florian had a creeping suspicion that He had not been as secret as he should have been about his practice. It was that, or Angevin had done his research and simply assumed, and Private Florian Albrecht just proved him right. Either way, he had been allowed into the military, which goes to show how much he knew about the government's priorities.

He was a bit stumped by Angevin's question. Florian rarely took into consideration how much physical danger he would be in when he did things - he did them because he thought he should, because it was exciting. He didn't have a death wish, he never had, but he just didn't think about it.

"I don't know, sir. From the way he was pulling the flames from the campfire, I had assumed that whatever he did, I would be able to handle it." Florian cleared his throat. He knew little of that magic, and he hoped that Angevin. "It did not occur to me that it may have been too much to handle. Sir." He spoke clearly, trying not to mumble out of anxiety. "Any risk that crossed my mind did not seem worse than how I could help by taking it."

He inhaled again as if he had more to add, but then closed his mouth. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could add to his answer that would make his decision look any better.

[Eitan Angevin]

"The more you share, the better I can make use of you and, I should think, the more kindly the Order will look upon other Lysanrin seeking to serve the State and earn their places among the citizenry."

He offered another tight smile. It was clear the little niceties cost him more right now, but he still made the effort. What that said about his character was open to interpretation. But Angevin was pleased his pet Lysanrin was literate; that would make things easier.

"But it will be important going forward that we communicate. I can't be an effective advocate for you if you aren't forthcoming. If there are details you would rather leave out of your report, then you can simply tell me and I will decide whether or not to add them to mine. The Order and the Corps have granted me some discretion with how to handle you, but that only goes so far. That is why I want to help you fit in. It's the squeaky wheel that gets the grease, but grease from authority is often unwelcome.

"And don't mistake me, while my ward could have handled the fireball, your help may very well have saved lives. With your help, I made a shield big enough for several of us to use for cover. It likely showed our cowardly guerrilla enemies that there was a defense they couldn't breach, which led to their hasty retreat.

"But for the time being, I think my main question is how well you can gauge the strength of magic coming at you? I need to know when it's safe to use your body as a shield and when I need to yank you down and ward the both of us. We will have to watch each other's backs, you and I, and so we need to know what each other is capable of. I propose we do some training together when we return to Zaichaer."

[Florian]

Florian nodded. Maybe the thanks Kolster had given was deserving after all. He was feeling a bit proud of himself. He knew he helped, but it was different to have that directly confirmed. A smile tugged at his lips, but he tried to stay serious. At least, serious enough.

"I think— I think it's something I can learn. I can see the aether as it's manipulated by the mages, and if I learn how those Runes work, I believe I can determine whether or not something is too dangerous for me to absorb." He fiddled with his hands held behind his back. "All I can do with that is see the aether, but it was how I was able to spot the mages before they were able to cast their spells."

Florian thought more. "It was clever to use me to recycle your wards, sir. I would have never considered that option until you ordered it. Is that how you suggest we train, then?" He made an impression on Commander Angevin, clearly. Though a Lysanrin practicing his magic was sure to be frowned upon, no matter with a member of the Order or not.

"Would that be okay, sir? I don't think that anyone would want to see me practice. Whether you're with the Order or not, it seems unlikely that something like that would get approved..." Florian trailed off. If the XO had suggested it, surely he had taken that into account already.

"But if you think that it'll be allowed, practicing would be good, I think. I can do more than just reinforce wards." The Ashborne nodded, reaffirming what he just said. "If it will help, then I will do it. Is that all you need from me, sir? Besides the report?"

The Lysanrin was already formulating what he would say and how he would present it in his head. He figured he would tell the truth - that he could see the mages manipulate their aether, that he absorbed the fireball before it was able to cause him harm, and that he was able to not only bolster Angevin's wards but reabsorb and recycle the aether into bolstering the wards already placed on the Noble Gambit. None of that sounded bad to him, but with the fear towards mages in Zaichaer, and Lysanrin especially, he did not know if even exclusively helping his crewmates with his power would be good enough.

If that was it for the debriefing, Florian would take his leave and return to the ground to help whoever would take it.

[Eitan Angevin]

Angevin nodded along with Albrecht's explanation, though it might have looked a little drunk from exhaustion. What he said aligned with what Angevin knew in theory, but it was illuminating to hear a first-hand account, to be able to ask questions of someone who experienced it. This would be an educational experience for him as well, though he was less like some members of the Order who would rather vivisect people like Florian Albrecht in order to see what made him work.

"Perhaps I should remind you that I am a State-sanctioned Warder and a member of the Order," he said, the words a touch testy, though his tone was even. He was just tired. "I have the unhappy but necessary task of training myself to use the Rune of Negation in pursuit of the State's aims. As a member of the Corps, it will be your duty to do the same with your inborn talents under my direction. You oughtn't to train without my permission. You oughtn't to use your siphoning skills without my express orders, though last night was an understandable breach of protocol that saved lives. Some might punish you for that, but I am not such a one.

"We will train together in private because we will be working together. It is likely that you will remain assigned wherever I am assigned, so it would behoove you to learn to work with me. We might be stronger together, better than the sum of our parts when we have to fight fire with fire, so to speak."

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then nodded.

"Aye, that will be all for me today. Check in with the bosun to see what tasks you might complete today. But don't stray farther from the airship than the bivouac. The men who saw you in action have been talking, and I have confirmed that you helped turn aside the magical attack, but the townsfolk are frightened and fear can easily lead to violence." His smile might almost have been sweet, but surely it was just the weariness. Of course, he didn't want Albrecht to be hurt more than he already was.

"Dismissed. Leave the door open when you leave, please, and get me your report by end of day tomorrow."

[Goule]

Your Review

Ah, the start of a dangerous relationship. I had a chance to glance over this before, but reading it in full -- this was so interesting. To see how aether siphoning worked in relation to negation was a fun read. You two wrote really well together here!

Rewards
Lore
Florian:
Detection
Listening to Intuition

Aether Siphoning
Quickly Siphoning Aether
Catalyze - Bolstering a Ward
Aether Sight - Judging the Strength of a Mage
Siphoning A Ward
Impressions Left in Aether

Gunslinging
Pistol - Taking Aim at a Stationary Target
Pistol - Quickly Reloading
Pistol - Taking Aim at a Slow Moving Target

Etiquette
Military - Following Instructions from a Superior
Military - Writing a Formal Report

Medicine
Putting Pressure on a Wound

Resistance
Ignoring Pain to Keep Fighting

Eitan:
Leadership:
Military Protocol
Call to Arms
Cool Head Under Fire
Checking on the Injured

Spycraft:
Redirection
Laughter to Cover

Gunslinging:
Drawing a Pistol
Aiming at a Moving Target
Firing Under Duress
Aiming for the Chest
Aiming in Lowlight

Negation:
Recognizing the Use of Magic
Using Syphoned Aether
Shielding Against Metal
Shielding Against Magical attacks


Loot: This wasn't asked for, but! It has to be done. (teehee) Florian and Eitan have both gained a smidgeon of recognition within military circles. You can see to it how they are viewed in these stirring rumors among their comrades.

Injuries Florian's little baby wound won't hurt for long, but will likely be a teeny tiny scar upon healing. A little badge of honor.

Points 8 normal EXP, and 8 for magic!