Bird Song [Eitan]

[Florian]

Ava took her seat that Eitan held out, and gestured for him to sit down as well. She apologized to Eitan for the food - Florian thought it was delicious, but maybe she felt bad because he was a rich asshole who had clearly been more well-fed than Florian his whole life. Not that Florian felt self-conscious about his height or his weight or any of the other factors to him that told of a life spent in poverty.

"I'm going to the Windworks tomorrow. To learn how airships are made." Florian said, after a few bites of food cut and chewed carefully. He gestured to Eitan. "I guess it's important because I help with the wards." He didn't know why it was important, because the wards weren't exactly part of the airship once they were built, but he wasn't going to argue. Even though he wanted to argue, he had to pick his battles. Eitan hadn't commented on what he'd said at all and that annoyed him as much as what he'd said to begin with. Ava was focused on something else, though.

"You know it's dangerous to keep doing that." She remarked with a frown.

"I thought you wanted me to do what I'm told!" Florian retorted, a glance cast in Eitan's direction. "If the Order burns me, blame him." He said it with a laugh, but there was an inherent fear to the statement. As much as Florian claimed he wasn't afraid, it was a hard fact of life to ignore.

"It's not funny, Florian." She muttered. Nothing else she could say. Her own eyes had changed color. Before, they'd been the same blue as Florian's usual, but now they were dark, and in Eitan's direction. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again and went back to eating.

"Eitan said he'd try and protect me from some things, anyway." Florian shrugged. "So I just have to..." His voice faltered. "I just have to listen." He placed his fork down and stared at his food. He needed to stop arguing all the damn time. Eitan was an asshole, but he was the barrier between Florian's current life or death and he wondered why the hell that he hadn't told the Order he was out of hand. The concept that there might be any genuine care liked to oscillate between the two extremes in his mind — between the concept that Eitan cared, in some odd, dickish way about him, or that he didn't really care at all. But he was here, eating dinner in his childhood home, and so maybe it wasn't pure malice.

[Eitan Angevin]

"It smells delicious," he assured her as he took the seat she gestured to. Albrecht had seen him partake of dive bars and pub food, but perhaps he hadn't told his mother that.

Angevin was quiet while mother and son went back and forth. It wasn't until the private faltered and they fell silent that he stepped in to say something.

"The food is delicious, ma'am. Thank you." And he had been tucking into it, so she had no reason to believe he was lying.

"I am going to the Windworks," he said by way of explanation, "and you are coming with me because both the Order of Reconciliation and the Air Defense Corps have deemed your place on the Noble Gambit contingent upon the fact that you help me maintain the wards and that I oversee you. You trust the airship not to fall out of the sky; it won't hurt you to know a bit more about how that works. You will be even more useful if you can help the engineers with repairs. You will meet Stefan Dornkirk, who designs and builds them. When he becomes aware of you and the possibilities your enlistment open up, then he, an important personage in the High City, will see that you are useful." It would also be an audition for a classified expedition, but he could not share that with Albrecht—yet. With his mother—never.

"Yes, you will be a dog and pony show. But the alternative to me manipulating sentiment surrounding you is that this experiment fails and not only do you suffer, but your people living in Zaichaer suffer as well. You could open a door for them, or you could bring a heel down upon their throats. Will this process be easy for you? No. But if you let your pride guide you, then you will surely fail and many will suffer. If you build a new pride in how you carve a place for yourself within the Corps, then you and many people will have a better lot. I don't expect you to be a saint, but hopefully, the mathematics of the situation are clear.

"And to be crystal clear and deadly serious, the Order and the Corps were aware of your aether siphoning ability before I knew you existed. They elected not to execute you as was within their rights under the law of this jurisdiction. Instead, they made you an experiment. And they tasked me to oversee it. I don't know why in particular except that I too am a member of both the Order and the Corps and because as a Warder, they think I might be capable of performing damage control in the event that you prove their worst fears correct and weaponize your curse in order to harm the citizens of Zaichaer.

"I may not be the ally you could wish for, but I am the ally you have. If you can't believe that I want what is in your best interests, then trust that my drive to succeed will push me to make this experiment a success and your survival a goal."

There were other things he might have said that were true, such as the Order was likely watching Ava, knowing the aether siphoning curse was on her bloodline. He couldn't think of a way to tell him that wouldn't sound like a threat and he didn't want to threaten.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said to Ava. "It was not my intention to cast a pall over your evening. Albrecht is in a tricky spot and while I can't empathize, perhaps, I can understand some of his frustrations."

[Florian]

Florian watched Eitan as he declaimed his perspective, and, in some ways, the truth of the matter at hand. He also picked his fork back up and picked at his food, but he had a small appetite that was easily frightened off. It was interesting to receive confirmation that the Order and the Corps both had been aware of his practice in aether siphoning, and to such detail as to inform Eitan, but as to why they allowed him both to join the Corps and to use his abilities escaped him. Of course he saw the use of his powers — he had begun to cultivate them, after all, while most Lysanrin disapproved of such a feat, Florian had chosen a path of resistance. And while that path was laid out before him, and he knew which path he should take, it was reliant on human acceptance.

And Florian did not think that his status as a person should be reliant on whether or not humans liked him. He didn't think that his personhood should be determined by anyone else in general, but to exist in a satisfying way, it required him to play by everyone else's rules. Part of his practice in aether siphoning had been dependent on his desire to carve himself out a place in the world. It seemed to be working.

Eitan was not just trying to help, he was trying to sell him to everyone else. Maybe for reasons that were selfish — he had been given a task, and he wanted to prove to anyone and everyone that he could succeed at anything he put his mind to — but it still benefited Florian in the end. At least, it benefited him to a point. He doubted that he would ever fit in, and he didn't want to, but he knew it would feel satisfying to accomplish something notable. If he ever made it that far.

"It's okay," Ava said quietly in reply. She seemed to appreciate the exposition, though she also seemed to not know how to react to it all.

Florian, on the other hand, stretched his hand over to pat his mother's on hers. "See, mama? It'll be okay." He just had to listen. He just had to listen. He removed his hand, and his head turned to Eitan.

"Do you trust me?"

[Eitan Angevin]

Dark eyes cut to the hostess as he savored another bite of the beery supper. He was weighing social norms against the telltale color of her eyes, though he had to wonder whether it was the same emotional spectrum for each Lysanrin. And there was the fact that he didn't really know the first thing about social norms within the Lysanrin population; his experience was almost entirely with Florian Albrecht, who might be an outlier for all he knew. It didn't seem as though he ought to make his apologies and leave, so he remained.

Then Albrecht asked his question and those dark eyes cut back to him.

"To a point, yes," he said in all honesty. "As I said when you first presented yourself to the Noble Gambit, trust is earned. I think we have both earned a bit of each other's trust, but it's still new and fragile. Only time will give us opportunities for it to grow and deepen."

He paused, considering, over another bite of food. He swallowed, took a sip of beer, and then asked pointedly, "Why do you ask?"

Angevin himself wouldn't have promised that everything would turn out all right in the end because he had no way of knowing that. He tried to only make promises that he could keep, such as that he would do everything in his power to manipulate the situation into a mutually beneficial outcome, but he only had his wits, his authority, and his skill set. They might not be up to the challenge and all the countless variables and obstacles that were as invisible in their path as dangerous turbulence in the air.

But with Albrecht's trust, Albrecht could add his wits, power, and skill set to the game. Angevin knew he was clever, but he hadn't had his training in tactic nor in spycraft, which were powerful tools in his arsenal.

[Florian]

The darkness in Ava's eyes did not seem directed at Eitan, even as she looked at him. Once her gaze was back on Florian, and she fiddled with her food, it was clear that she was more worried about her son than anything. Florian's eyes had lightened back to blue, however, and if he was concerned, he didn't want to show it in front of his mother.

"Good." He started, and then took a bite of potatoes and chewed for a moment. He swallowed, and, "I hope you trust that I also want to act in my best interests. I didn't know I was going to be an experiment. Maybe it was my fault for thinking I could do something normal." Florian was back to picking at the rest of the sausage on his plate, but he had stopped eating for the moment. "Not that I really had much going on before. But I want to do my best."

He was done with his food. Florian tended to eat like a bird, anyway, and he looked the part. He drank some of his beer, too. He had a lot on his mind, but he didn't know what to say. Finally, he came up with a question. "Do you think we could show her how it works?" He gestured to his mom. "I mean, I think all Lysanrin have the capability of learning how to absorb aether but...she's never seen it. She's never seen me do it, or anything." He looked a bit sheepish, and the concern that Eitan might take the question the wrong way had already crossed his mind. "If it's okay."

Truth be told, he had no idea how Eitan truly felt about Lysanrin in general, and he wondered if he had really even met one personally before himself. He had looked out for him, but he did wonder how much was about him as a person or him as a project he was looking to succeed with.

[Eitan Angevin]

"I think you are savvy enough to know what the wise course of action is when your temper doesn't get the best of you," he said. A hand came up immediately to forestall any retort. "I am not criticizing; just observing. And I have my own temper to rein in, so don't think that I'm playing the superior in all things."

Angevin considered the request. There were hardliners in the Order who thought there needed to be a clear and present danger to require the use of magic, and there were those who toed the Order's line in order to take decadent pleasure in the power runic corruption afforded them, and there were many shades of gray between the two extremes. But if a small show of power would appease Albrecht and his mother, then the cost might be worth the benefit to be lenient in this case.

"Very well," he acquiesced, then held a hand on either side of the nearest candlestick. "Observe, ma'am."

His ward was sloppy, novice work, not because he couldn't do better, but because that tended to bleed aether into the visual spectrum so she could see if her eyes weren't already attuned to the aether by her blood. While he wasn't much of a showman, he knew it would give her a better show. He anchored the ward to the candlestick itself, then built the ward in an egg shape that bloomed from the anchor up to enclose the flame. He tasked it against air, so soon enough, the flame began to dim, suffocating.

Albrecht would get to play savior to the little mote of fire if he tore through the ward fast enough and delicately enough not to blow it out entirely.

"Albrecht," he said quietly, letting his hands fall to his lap. He nodded, giving affirmative consent that he utilize his power.

[Florian]

Ava leaned in towards the candlestick, her eyes drawn to the very slight vestiges of visible aether that were visible. Florian, on the other hand, blinked, his irises and pupils turning their familiar silver. He could see the ward, and its shape, and the smell of that same flower mixed faintly with the smells of food. He wanted to know what it was, but he didn't think Eitan would even know what he was talking about. He reached a finger to the small shield and started absorbing the aether. It disappeared from the end opposite from his hand as the aether pooled around his finger, and the dying candle was able to slowly regain its flame.

Florian's sleeves were rolled up to eat dinner, a rare enough occurrence that now showed off not only the many scars that littered his forearms, but the physical effects that absorbing the aether had on his body. Where there may have been veins curling beneath his skin, there was instead silver. The silvery-veins shown through his skin, lightly glowing and strange. He, however, was not focused on his own skin, and as the ward disappeared, so too did the silvery lines fade across his hand and arm.

Even a small amount of aether like this crackled in his blood. It was a sensation he was still not quite used to, but since his even more frequent use with Eitan, it was also familiar. A strange contradiction, but in the end, it just made Florian feel powerful. He could help and harm with this foreign aether, and he always had such a decision to make once the aether was his. But such a small ward did not give him much power.

Ava looked between the two of them. As far as Florian knew, it was likely her first experience with magic up close. She had been staunchly against his determination to develop his inborn abilities, and she had refused to do so herself for her entire life. Her talents laid elsewhere. With the aether fully absorbed and the candle saved from the brink of death, Florian looked at Eitan with his silver-magic eyes.

"Can we show her how I help with the wards?"

[Eitan Angevin]

Though his intentionally sloppy warding was somewhat visible, he could sense it better through the rune that initiated it than he could see it with his own eyes, and so he watched the Lysanrin instead as he felt what Albrecht was doing to his shoddy creation. Ava seemed rapt, which was good. If she thought it was all old hats, then he would have to suspect that she was also actively siphoning aether without a license, which would be bad for her and for her son. But he also watched his charge, whose eyes turned that now-familiar silver, but whose scarred forearms began to turn silver in root-like branches under the skin.

Interesting.

In some manner, it appeared to be in his blood that his body stored that stolen aether, waiting to be discharged, transmuted, or fed to his own body to keep it running without its natural food, water, and sleep.

At the question, he looked into those strange silver eyes that didn't mirror but obscured. After a moment's consideration, he held his hands up in front of him, reaching toward the center of the table so Ava could see clearly without straining and so Albrecht wouldn't have to reach far to do his part. This time, he fashioned the warding into a bubble that might have been blown from a child's sudsy wand, hovering with unnatural stillness where Angevin's mind directed it to exist.

The glow was wan; he had only put the bare minimum of aether into it so that it wouldn't survive much before popping, but that glow ought to brighten immensely if Albrecht poured all that stored aether back into it, strengthening the structure of what his Commander had wrought.

There was a strange sense of power in having Albrecht's talents bending to his will, and he knew he had to be careful about that. As he had been told countless times: "Power corrupts."

[Florian]

With his request permitted, Florian watched Eitan form another ward. It was dim, even for him, and Ava couldn't see it at all. But he reached for it regardless, and the aether he had just taken from him was put right back into his new creation. It was a strange cycle, and the thought crossed his mind that such a thing could not just be infinitely recycled — or could it?

Either way, the ward was strengthened considerably from its starting point, and even Ava could see the glimmers of it now. Florian pulled his hand back, the silver once again fading from his veins from where he had strengthened the ward again. He threw a smile in his mother's direction.

"I tried to do it slower so you could watch." Ava nodded, and then took Florian's hand in hers to inspect it, concern writ on her face.

"Is that supposed to happen?" She asked, flipping his hand around and inspecting, though there were no longer any visible silver veins. Florian shrugged. He didn't have a good answer, and it was new to him, too. He had thought it had something to do with his body becoming more accustomed to absorbing the aether, and it only seemed to happen near where he was touching - or using - the siphoning. He hadn't noticed it when he'd shocked Eitan, but maybe that was different, somehow. Or maybe it wasn't something that started happening yet.

"That's what they're trying to test, at least. How useful it is." His eyes went awash with blue, and he stole his arm back from his mother and rubbed it. "As long as I can keep doing that, they should keep me around." He chuckled, and then Ava turned to look at Eitan.

"Well, thank you for showing me. Most of us don't want anything to do with that...power, and when I found out Florian...I thought about all the worst things that could happen to him." She frowned for just a second. "But I'm happy to see that's not the case."

[Eitan Angevin]

Angevin had no way of knowing what was going on in Albrecht's mind, but he too was wondering about the back-and-forth nature, whether some measurable amount of energy was lost in the exchange. These were questions for the College of Minders, and he would ask them surely at some point. Undue interest in anything magical was discouraged, but he was overseeing an experiment and so there were things he ought to know. Or perhaps he was going to be instrumental in them figuring things out.

Its purpose served, he let his ward wink out. Then he looked at mother worrying over son and son reassuring mother.

"We ought to have a healer look at you," he said. "The better to understand how you are normally and whether siphoning puts undue strain on your body."

He considered this and wished the Order would get back to him about his requisition. A bit of aura glass would allow him to make his own inspections of Albrecht's aetheric body, and if he didn't have the context to understand what he was seeing, he knew that he would be able to recognize when something was off if he knew what it should look like when all was well. Whether Albrecht realized it or not, he did feel a sense of protectiveness about him. It was rooted in responsibility, yes, but as fractious as their banter could get, he thought they did get along well.

It was a shame he hadn't been born human.

"'Tis a good thing you can't, ma'am." He offered a tight smile. "You would be stuck with someone like me making sure you used it responsibly." And then he gave Albrecht an unreadable look before resuming his meal. There wasn't much left on his plate, but he wouldn't clean it entirely. He didn't want Mistress Ava to think she had underfed him.