Caged Bird Sings [florian]

[Thysbae]

T H Y S B A E

77 Searing 121

Official business, they told him. Official business.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling…excited? Nervous? Thysbae didn’t know what it was. It would be the first time in a long while that he’d gone out on his own. Well. His gaze drifted to the Reconcilliator accompanying him. It would be the first time in a long while that he would be out without Dreyfus, but it was for official business. No reason for him to deviate from the path they’d allotted him. A pout pushed his lips out as he clopped behind the Reconcilliator, but only for a moment as his thoughts tracked back to the reason he was out in the first place.

Thysbae wasn’t given much allowance to mingle, let alone with those of his own race. Or, half of it. Lysanrin congregating in any sort of number was just — it was a risk the Order wouldn’t give an opening for. Especially not with Thysbae on their watch. He wasn’t very sure why this was, but it was a sentiment that seemed to go beyond the Order itself.

For as long as Thysbae had been in the city, his sense of direction had not changed. It might have had to do with being confined in one place to another. From stuck in a tiny attic room to something like a cell to the manor of the Monteliyet family. While the last on the list was nice, he did not go far. Never far. And he remembered nothing most times he did.

Verowa End was no different. A name he knew, but did not remember. Not entirely. Maybe it had something to do with the many horned people he was seeing. Far too many Lysanrin in one place, and yet. He clopped forward, catching up to the Reconcilliator. It would be unseemly for him to stray far from them, and usually he might hold on to their cloak or the tail of their coat, but he needed to remember that this wasn’t Dreyfus. This was someone else entirely, of course. But the thought was lost as he walked into them.

“We’re here.”

They seemed more annoyed by needing to step foot in Verowa End more than anything else. But — the sooner they were done, then the better, right? The Reconcilliator turned to him, brows raised. Right. He remembered this conversation. It would mean more if it looked like Thysbae was alone.

“This One will do his best.” Dreyfus usually handled this sort of thing, talking to the other Reconcilliators. He gave an odd-angled salute before practically skipping up to the door before knocking. “Mr. Albrecht?”

[Florian]

He still reeled from the training with Eitan just a few days prior. He'd had some bruises, but they were difficult to see and those that were visible all hid fairly well under his clothing. He was still unsure of what true repercussions he would face, but he was well and wholly capable of dealing with them. Florian had his shirt unbuttoned just-so, the bruising around his neck mostly faded as he inspected them in his hand mirror. He had purchased new shirts after that incident. Bloody noses were killer to clothing, and even his mother had difficulty getting all of it out. Though he usually trusted her with everything, he didn't want her to worry about his recent choices. What happened after the bloody nose was helpfully left out when he had recounted his day to her. What she didn't know didn't hurt her, after all.

And then, a knock, and his name. The mirror clattered to the table and he quickly buttoned his shirt, the marks now hidden from view. Florian did not receive visitors. The only visitor he had in recent history was Eitan, who had been invited over. He did not get knocks on his door, and he especially didn't hear his name from the other side. The fact that all of these happened at the same time was disconcerting enough, but the strange little Lysanrin on the other side of the now-opened door only served to increase his confusion.

"This is him." He answered the question of his name. He scanned outside his door, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just this...indiscernably aged boy? Man? on his steps, dressed in finer clothing than he'd ever owned. He looked out of place, even in Verowa End. Florian had no friends besides Eitan, as much as that could be considered friendship, and he certainly did not form close connections with his neighbors. This boy was not one he had ever seen around. He was immediately on guard. "Who are you? What do you need?"

[Thysbae]

To say that Thysbae was ecstatic was something else. When he had lived with his mother, the only other nonhumans he’d come into contact with had been his mother’s kin. Not fully; just her kind. But even they had been wary of him. And certainly, the man — Florian Albrecht — that stood before him was wary of his presence, but was kin in a different. Kin like his father. Bright eyes stared up at Florian for a moment before he remembered the purpose of his visit.

“Good day! This One has come on behalf of the Order of Reconciliation to speak with you.” Perhaps he looked much like an overeager child in the moment, but he couldn’t rightly care. Even if this was official business, he would be having a full conversation with someone that looked like him. Maybe not fully, but still — it was exciting!

He supposed this was also the part where he showed credentials of some kind, but he’d never been issued anything of the sort. For a moment, his brows furrowed. “This One has been instructed that since this is Order business it would be best to go where it is private. May...This One come inside?” Thysbae was used to staring, but the mixture of his of blood had left him with an appearance that often made people...interested. More like, they stared. Perhaps it was the hooves. The hair — his winter coat would be back soon enough. Once Frost hit, there would be a substantial amount of grooming that would need to be done.

He craned his neck, trying to see inside. “Or, we could go somewhere else? This One does not mind what you decide, so long as we get to talk.” Of course, he hoped they could talk more beyond simple Order affairs. Which — it startled him for just a second to realize that he didn’t really understand what they had wanted Thysbae to say in the first place. Something about a warning. But the words had been relayed to him in a way that didn’t feel as though that was what they were. Maybe there had been a mistake somewhere along the way.

[Florian]

Order Business. It was odd, for them to send another Lysanrin— or, something, were those deer legs? — to deal with him. To talk. Perhaps they felt he would be more comfortable that way, but he never really liked strangers regardless of race. Perhaps they were both experiments. Either way, he could not just deny him to speak, even if he spoke oddly.

"Come inside, then." Florian would open the door wider and allow him in. The door remained unlocked behind him. Did this have something to do with...no, that wouldn't make any sense. Surely if he had truly upset Eitan he would have said something instead of whatever was happening here. He could never be so sure.

"Water?" He pulled out cups and poured himself a glass of water, offering another to 'This One'. "What's your name? You know mine, it's only fair." Florian pulled out a seat for him at the table and sat across from him. Daylight filtered into the sparsely furnished room from an open window, and Florian's bed and a chest of clothes sat on the far corner from the door. There was a bedside table, and atop the bedside table lay the glass case that displayed his missing horn. He had kept it clean since he had been home, and from the comment that Eitan had made off-handedly. It was rare that he was self-conscious, but that was one such moment.

"So what business does the Order have with me now?" He asked, and stood up to close the window. It would get hot inside without the breeze, but he didn't want anyone to overhear. "I don't think I've spoken to any of you — except Commander Angevin — directly. I didn't know they would even hire us." The you was a pointed reference to the Order, but the us was about their heritage. He furrowed his brow.

"Did something happen?"

[Thysbae]

The smile that had been on his face before widened at the invitation inside. Thysbae glanced over to the Reconcilliator, who stood at a distance as they shifted their weight from one foot to the next. A nod of their head when they finally chose to acknowledge him was all he needed before he was pronking over the threshold and into the apartment. His hooves thudded against the wood beneath them, just a tad offbeat from his own heart. He was in a room alone with another Lysanrin. A full-blooded one, at that.

“Yes, thank you.” Good; he remembered his manners. While he did sit in the chair for a short moment, he was up and about again. It must have been nice to live somewhere there weren’t people constantly watching. Not that he didn’t like the estate. It was large and spacious and he wasn’t ever really alone, but he wasn’t exactly trusted. Liked, perhaps. He preferred to think the family liked his presence there.

Right; his name. Most people only cared for Dreyfus’ name in a conversation. It held more power, after all. That was what Thys had told him, at least. His fingers clutched at the glass in his hands as he turned to the other. “This One is Thysbae Ashtlin, Spellbreaker for the Order of Reconciliation and partner to Dreyfus Monteliyet.” He took a sip of the water, turning away as Florian asked his questions.

While he did want to get talk wanted by the Order out of the way, he was much more interested in learning more about the other. He hadn’t been told much aside from his association and his name. The bare minimum. His lips pursed as he took in the room.

“Nothing has happened. At least, This One thinks nothing as happened but they don’t exactly tell me anything.” If he sounded a little sad with those last words, the emotion was forgotten. Replaced instead by a morbid wonder at the horn within the glass case. He glanced back to the Lysanrin, eyes raking over his horns. “Is this yours? Did it hurt? Does it still hurt?” Absently, his hand reached up the horn of the left on his own head. It’d been a long time since his mother had taken matters into her own hands. He wondered that had been the case with Florian. “How did it happen?”

[Florian]

Florian watched the smaller Lysanrin-thing walk around his room and look at his things. He asked questions that were not pertinent to the situation at hand, which only furthered his anxiety. Spellbreaker? There were Lysanrin in the Order? He think he'd heard of the Monteliyets before, but he could not place them. Must have been another rich family with a son in the Order of Reconciliation.

Florian's eyes were white in a blink as anxiety came to a head. "Why are— why?" He was exasperated. "Yes, it's my horn. It was broken five years ago. It was the most pain I have ever felt in my entire life. It doesn't still hurt. It was stepped on, by a human man. His full weight on the horn and it broke. It was only because..." He paused, and realized he was derailing the conversation even further from Order business.

"Now can you tell me why you're here, then, Mr. Ashtlin?" Florian sped through his words, annoyed and fearful in equal measure. He had told Eitan he was not afraid of him or of the Order or of his death, and yet, here he was, anxious as a bird in a cage three times too small. Maybe he felt safer when Eitan was there, even if...

"Please, just get on with it." He finished his water and went to get another, a nervous habit that occupied his hands from fiddling and mouth from overspeaking. Even if he had spoken too much already. Shit, he was nervous. He was nervous because Eitan wasn't there, and he had a feeling that whatever Thysbae told him he would tell to him. Fuck the man for earning his loyalty, his trust, for looking out for him. He had to evaluate his feelings because he was conflicted, and it stopped his focus on current matters. He looked at Thysbae from his retaken seat at the table and waited for the explanation.

[Thysbae]

“This One doesn’t have the pieces Momma cut off. She tossed them.” It was said with the slightest hint of sadness, Bae’s shoulder sagging as he thought back to it. The memory itself was hazy and drenched in red. And pain. So much pain. Like he’d been struck by lightning sort of pain, but without the same results. The vacancy in his eyes would give away much when he turned to look back at the other. “Momma didn’t like This One being Lysanrin, but looking like her kin. It was wrong, she said.” He shrugged as if the words were inconsequential. As if they hadn’t been thrown at him for years.

“So, in a way, we are the same! This One is lopsided, as well.” The half-breed canted his head to the right, the weight of both horns leaning with the action tipping him over more than he’d intended before he righted himself. The excitement from finding kinship in Florian, though, didn’t appear to be reciprocated. The other’s eyes had whited over and the strain of his voice was clear.

The reaction was immediate. A deflation of figure as he clopped his way back to the table. Set his glass down and ducked his head. He should not have gotten excited; he was here on business. If he couldn’t do even this — a simple chat — then what was the point of him? A question that raised a flag of panic that spread throughout him, Thysbae sat up a little straighter. But it was a small gesture in light of the furrow his brow and the worrying of his lips.

He sucked in a breath. “This One apologizes for upsetting you. They don’t often let This One out with Dreyfus and he usually does all the talking—” Again; he was getting off course again. Thysbae pressed his lips together, swallowed. “The Order wanted This One to tell you, Flor — Mr. Albrecht — to know your value and your place.” His brows furrowed further, the words sounding as recited as they were.

“This One is to inform you that all tools have their uses, and when they cease to have them, they will be replaced.” Why were they telling him to talk about tools when this was a flesh and blood person? Bae had not bothered to ask, but he supposed they had assumed Florian would know.

Expectancy widened his eyes and raised his brows as Thysbae looked back up to Florian, hoping that the job he had been given to do had been fulfilled. So they could get back to talking about other things.

[Florian]

Florian noticed, now, the lopsided antlers. They were both lopsided, a point that had been quickly made by the shorter Lysanrin before him. "There's nothing wrong with being a Lysanrin, Thysbae. There is nothing wrong with being who you are. No matter what may be claimed against you." It was a statement for himself as much as him, but he didn't have to mention that. He wondered what could drive a mother to detest her choices, her child, so much. He was blessed with a loving mother, even if she were the only family he had.

He was hit with a pang of sympathy, but it did not last long. While Thysbae was by no means his enemy in the situation, he bore a warning that was nonetheless deeply uncomfortable to hear. He finished his cup of water and set the cup loudly upon the table. Florian managed to compose himself. "You can inform the Order that I am well aware of this fact." He had cried about it in Eitan's very arms a few days before.

"And you may tell them I intend on being a useful tool." He said a few minutes later, after careful consideration. His voice was quiet, and his eyes had rescinded their white back into blue. He knew his...magic, his inborn powers, were growing past what may have been acceptable by Order standards. Even with a leash, he was drawing unwanted attention. He frowned.

"So you use your power too, Spellbreaker?" He emphasized the title. Florian was simply a Private, no further title tacked on. He wondered if they were part of the same experiment, or if Thysbae had a different purpose. "Under watch from a Reconciliator?" The parallels were suspicious, and it was likely that the Order thought that sending the other experiment would make the warning less...threatening than it was.

[Thysbae]

Those were nice words. Kind words. It reminded Thysbae of his arrival at the Monteliyet estate. But that didn’t matter much after everything that he had said. No, Thysbae had grown used to the shift of faces as he opened his mouth. The twist of lips into scowls as whatever he was to say had settled. Florian was no different. The light of sympathy — or pity? — had gone from his eyes. The half-blood flinched as the glass thudded down on the table.

Was this what the Order had wanted when he was to deliver these words? Florian seemed to understand them for more than what they were, but metaphors like this had always been a disconnecting factor for him.

“This One will tell them.” Would that be it, then? The message alone was enough to put anyone off of further conversation, and Thysbae had already messed up before delivering it. He wrung his hands out, anticipating a dismissal. “If that will be —”

Part of him had expected to be sent off. It was probably being greedy to want more than a simple moment of being around someone in a similar situation. And he shouldn’t have been so excited. He shouldn’t have expected more, and yet.

“Y-yes! This One uses his power.” He perked up visibly, hooves thudding down as he tapped them on the floor. “For an arc now! Dreyfus and This One were decided by the Order. He has been very kind to me.” A soft flush of pink colored his cheeks as he looked down at his fingers. The wriggling wasn’t from discomfort, but he certainly wouldn’t be in any hurry to reveal what it was caused by.

“And you? Who are you paired with? Maybe This One knows them.” Not likely.

[Florian]

The Lysanrin before him was curious, both in action and oddity. He spoke strangely, referred to himself in the third person, and in general it seemed like he had not spent time being normally socialized. Florian leaned on the table closer to him as they spoke.

"Kind." He parroted. Kindness led to interesting things, and the way that Thysbae wriggled, he wondered if they had met the same results. "I'm tethered to Eitan Angevin." He did not know if this Lysanrin knew him, as he certainly did not know anyone by the name of Dreyfus. But both Dreyfus and Eitan were both Reconciliators, and perhaps they knew each other. He tucked the question away to ask next time he caught Eitan alone.

"We serve on the Noble Gambit in the Zaichaer Air Defense Corps. I'm just a private, but he's the executive officer. Commander Angevin." Florian continued, unsure why he was sharing so much. Not that it would do much harm - anyone he could tell would likely already know all of this, and he seemed excited that they were even talking. He could humor him for a bit longer, if only in case he had anything else to tell Thysbae to tell the Order.

"He is also a Watcher of Purity." He added, in case there was any confusion. "Does Dreyfus also use Negation?" Florian figured this was the case. It seemed a powerful anti-magic tool, though he couldn't see it being more useful than his own siphoning. While he could protect from magic, Florian could not only absorb the aether, but he could discharge it, metabolize it like a meal or rest, even synthesize compatibility with other forms of magic...

"Where do you live? I haven't seen you around here before." Florian started asking more prodding questions. If he had been with Dreyfus for that long, perhaps he had more time than he thought before the Order decided to put him down.