Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 3:02 am**

A • T R O U B L E D • H O U S E

Searing 88, 121 Age of Steel

A most unusual sight greeted the inhabitants of Verowa End one early Raellas morning, a horse drawn carriage gingerly making its way through its narrow streets as the sun first crept over the sky. Arriving at its destination, the ostentatiously decorated vehicle came to a stop before a particular rundown apartment block. The liveried servant who had driven it had, after much confusion from all parties, eventually arrived at the address on file for Private Florian Albrecht. A pristine white gloved hand rapped a slow, steady beat against the door, each knock sounding throughout the room beyond. For the inhabitants of the soldier's neighborhood such was odd, but not entirely unknown, for many a hero living in squalor had been granted audiences and boons for faithful service by far more comfortable lords.

The truth was far more complicated.

Whispers of outrage and scandal had filled the lunch clubs and salons of high society in the days since Anton Michaelis had been formally introduced, the lordling's father having swiftly confirmed that he was opposed to the fact that a Lysanrin and a Rathari had been permitted to enter his house. The bastard Angevin Warden had brought his wretched pet dog, and the Monteliyet's heir had decided to test the boundaries of propriety, but neither could be properly upbraided for their indulgences at such a pivotal moment in Anton's life. Even ignoring the fact that insulting either would be suicide, to do so would immediately undermine any credibility that the youth had just started creating. But questions demanded answers, and mistakes could be opportunities. The matter of the Rathari, Thysbae, could be handled quietly with Dreyfus at Anton's leisure. Unfortunately, Private Albrecht did not provide that measure of flexibility - especially not in light of the letter Eitan had deposited with the family's servants. Favors were called in and files were pulled, at least confirming that the Lysanrin's service was genuine.

Were they already suspected? Was the Ashborne there to collect proof of guilt, and the letter merely a polite way to bring him quietly into custody? Was it a calculated slight, reminding House Michaelis that House Angevin had always sat higher then them? Or was the half-breed as pitying of that despised race as his father was of him? Surely a Watcher of Purity did not genuinely believe that a Lysanrin was worthy of entering so august a manor based only off of his own worth. Surely.

Questions demanded answers. And requests required responses. Two birds, one stone.

Not, that is to say, that any of this was explained to the the air corpsman when he finally answered his door. Instead he was simply informed that he was requested to attend to Lord Anton at his familial estate, and a carriage was waiting to convey him there after he made himself presentable. Somehow, the manner in which the servant extended the request made it sound like no such thing. At very least he was professional enough to keep any animosity towards the Lysanrin on account of his race to himself, though whether that was out of confidence that his young and naive lord would recitfy his mistake or genuine tolerance was impossible to say.

The carriage's exterior was decorated with fine gold filigree and painted carvings of graceful animals, looking like something taken out of a fairy tale or a past century, an effect only exacerbated as the heraldry bearing servant opened the door for Florian. No one joined him within, leaving him to sit alone on the plush seats as the coachman drove back out of the East End. His only companions were the sounds of wheels and hooves over cobblestones, interspersed with those of the horses themselves and the slowly waking city. The coachman had pulled the curtains tight, ensuring that none without could see that a Lysanrin sat within, but no one could stop him raising the fabrics to gaze upon Zaichaer.

Eventually, the carriage drove up the stately drive that Florian had been upon some nights prior, but it did not come to a halt before the grand doors. Turning off onto a road, it rounded about the back of the house, halting before the servant's entrance of the manor. Ushered out, the ZADC private was directed towards Anton's apartments with the same professional voice the coachman had used throughout their morning together. Curt, but not rude, indulging in neither cruelty nor kindness towards the Lysanrin. The halls in which the men and women who maintained the house roamed were far different from the grand ballroom, spartan and unadorned, built for function instead of form. Butlers, maids, maidservants, valets, gardeners, and countless other servants all but ignored their horned guest, though one seemed to always be keeping an eye on him. Whether or not he required their assistance, it did not take him long to reach his destination, another servant opening the door for Florian as he approached without a word. And just as quickly shut it behind him.

While the room Florian found himself in clearly belonged to someone of great wealth, it was strangely free of the gilt and garnish he had come to expect. Though the furniture was finely wrought and sturdily made the pieces were simple and unadorned wood, and the walls were bare of any decoration aside from the occasional curtain. Yet at the same time it was clear someone had taken great care to appoint the room, the scent of flowers and perfume permeating the air. From afar, the soft sound of trickling water could be heard, further lending to the carefully crafted aura of serenity.

Anton Michaelis was eating breakfast as Florian entered, the short dining table he sat at visible from the entrance. He did not need to use Semblance for such a task, and did not trust himself to use it while within the Ashborne's sight now that he knew the truth of the man. Still in his dressing gown, the sightless lord ate slowly and meticulously, stopping only when he heard the door close. Gingerly taking his napkin in hand after even more carefully placing a grape in his mouth, he wiped his mouth and slumped back in his chair with a soft sigh. It was time to see if the game was ending almost as soon as it began.

"Private Florian Albrecht, Zaichaer Air Defense Corps. Ashborne Lysanrin. Entrusted to the care of Air Commander Eitan Angevin, Watcher of Purity," he said in a far less gregarious voice than he had used at his debut. "You are a very curious man, Private Albrecht," he added, finally turning his head in the direction of where he had last heard the Ashborne's footsteps. "But I would be lying if I said this was entirely a social call. They say that the best way to know a man is to learn who he trusts. Commander Angevin seems to trust you a great deal." He did his best to remain unflinchingly polite, not out of any particular regard for the Lysanrin but instead commitment to his earlier mistake. Either Eitan did suspect something, or he actually did care something for the man. No matter what was the case, rudeness now would both be counterproductive and paint him as confused. Or worse.

"Please, sit. Eat if you'd like," he said, turning back to the table and gesturing with one hand towards the other chair placed on its opposite end. The hand on which his signet ring was set was consciously extended towards Florian, a test that Anton fully expected to be entirely overlooked, but a useful one nonetheless.

"I will not beat around the bush. What made Commander Angevin decide that you ought attend my party?"

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 4:56 am**

Two knocks at his door in a season. Two more than he had received since he'd acquired the apartment. This second knock seemed more determined to outshine the unfeasability of the last — where he had been presented with Thysbae, the strange Lysanrin mix, he was now presented with an uncomfortable-looking servant and an invitation — no, a command — to leave for the Michaelis estate from Anton himself. Florian usually woke up early, but he did not often plan things in the morning. Not by himself, anyway, and he had no plans with Eitan. This, apparently, was a boon.

While he'd attended Anton Michaelis's debut in uniform, he didn't know if it made sense to wear it now. He didn't really know what to wear at all, and none of what clothing he owned seemed suitable for another visit to such an estate. But he got dressed in clean clothing and tried to use his hands to tame his hair in the mirror. But since he'd cut it short the first time years prior, he'd never been able to get it to sit nicely. But if he was going to have his morning interrupted by such a sudden invitation, Anton would have to deal with it.

It was not a short trip, but it also wasn't the hours-long walk he had taken from Verowa End to, say, the airfield multiple times before. He did peek through the curtain as he was driven to the estate, but for the most part he just sat in brooding silence. He had genuinely tried his best at the debut, but he was keenly aware that it was unlikely he made a good impression, if only by virtue of his birth. And as he was ushered through the servant's entrance and given instruction on how to reach Anton's rooms.

While Florian had struggled with what he should wear, Anton had not even dressed for the day. Anton had not even finished his breakfast for the day, an array of food that he, born, raised, and living in poverty, would not have thought of eating. But despite Anton's invitation to eat after his listing of adjectives and descriptors and his mention of Eitan and trust, Florian did not. His nerves were visible in his eyes, white and wide, but it didn't seem that the man cared as he tred across the room. He realized he had yet to say anything to greet him until he sat down.

"Hello, sir." He started, anxiety even evident in his voice. His question made no sense. His demeanor made no sense. Florian wondered if he had simply been polite, even gregarious, because of Eitan's presence. Now he was asking why he had been brought in the first place, and he also wondered why he didn't ask the air commander directly. Should he tell the truth? That he had simply wanted to come, and Eitan thought that he had done enough to deserve it? Even though he'd regretted his decision to go to the debut immediately, he didn't really understand the extent of the consequences. Florian was tense.

"It was a reward. A test. A reward for the lives I helped save when we were ambushed at the outpost, and a test to see how well I could behave." He shifted in his seat. There was no reason to lie, but there was also no reason to apologize, as much as he felt the need to. Lysanrin as he may be, he refused to apologize for his presence. Not that he really thought that Anton was looking for an apology. He seemed more accusatory towards Eitan than anything, as if Florian was not one with agency. "And because I asked to come."

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 5:42 am**

Every fiber of Anton's body screamed at him to activate his rune, to let his aether flow freely and use Semblance to wrest the truth directly from the Lysanrin's aura, to know that the innocent and improbable statement was not a lie. But he was no expert in how their gifts worked, and for all he knew the Watcher's companion would know him for what he was as soon as he made use of his magic. It sounded absurd, it was absurd, but for the moment he would have to proceed as if it were true. Or at least, as if Florian thought it were true. The contours of this bizarre experiment in tolerance, or cruel grand lie, were as yet unknown to him, but if he played his cards right he might just end up with leverage over one or perhaps both of the pair. Leverage that he hopefully need never use, but such currency may prove the difference between life and death one day.

"You need not call me sir, Private. I hold no military rank, and the king's knights are all long dead. If you are insistent on politeness I suppose I can do nothing to stop you, but I would not have brought you here as we are if I had intention of caring about pomp and ceremony," Anton said breezily, buying himself time to think with errant chatter. It helped that it was also true. Even without being able to read Florian's aura, it was clear that the Lysanrin was tense with nervous energy, something that ought to have terrified Anton in turn if his suspicions were correct. But if they weren't.... There was only one explanation that fit the facts. By rights the realization should have frightened him more, but instead Anton visibly relaxed as he fit the pieces into place, the blind man unaware of how much he betrayed with his body language.

"The reports I was able to find on the battle in question confirmed your presence, but provided you no particular commendation. My curiosity was raised. As well as certain.... concerns about receiving personal attention from a Watcher under any circumstances. I suspect men such as him do not understand their own reputations," he said in a far softer voice, passing the letter Eitan had sent him towards Florian as he spoke. "I will not force you to say it, or pry into what manner your service was rendered, but I think I understand your situation. Know that my words were true, and that I hope your reward was as grand as you had hoped for. As far as your manners, well... I suppose I have no complaints, all considered." A thought struck him after he finished speaking, and he let out a short, soft laugh that sounded as if the young lord did not do such very often. The reason for that became clear soon enough as the laughter trailed off into a rasping cough, the young lord swiftly bringing his napkin to his lips. "I think, Private Albrecht, you were the only person at my party who asked to attend. I suppose that means my responsibilities as your host are redoubled," he added with a nod after he had recovered.

"If you are willing to indulge me, I must admit I am curious. Why did you join the military?"

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 7:11 pm**

"I'm Lysanrin. You said it yourself. I think that is enough to warrant no particular commendation." He could have brought up the fact that he used magic, too, but he chose to lie by ommission. Hopefully that explanation would be enough.

Nothing about this sat right with him. The way Anton spoke, what he said, his idle chatter and his body language. Florian was suspicious. He shifted in his seat again, he scratched his arm. He mostly watched. Anton looked at him as he spoke, but something felt wrong. Maybe it was just his nerves. He read the note that was passed to him, but Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

"Why are you showing me this?" He asked once the other man had stopped talking. And then he addressed his question. "The military awards some semblance of stability. I was born in poverty. I live in poverty. I will not die in poverty." He shrugged, and then broke through his anxiety to take a strawberry. He didn't often get the chance to eat fresh fruit, and if the invitation to eat had been a test, he would gladly fail it.

"I had thought I had been allowed despite who I am, but it was because of who I am. Maybe I was lucky that they didn't kill my outright." Pleasant breakfast conversation to be sure. Florian realized he talked too much when he was anxious. He had trouble being secretive, knowing what to say and what to keep to himself. "Commander Angevin made it very clear when I met him as to what my purpose on the airship was. I wasn't expecting to be tethered to a Watcher, but it's a far better outcome for me than what could have been." His words were stiff with anxious formality, but no magic was needed to hear the shift in his voice when he brought up Angevin.

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 8:19 pm**

"I see," Anton replied, letting himself smile at his own private joke. In a certain sense it was true, the Lysanrin having inadvertently confirmed his suspicions. There was only one thing that the Ashborne could do that could explain his statements. And it was the same thing that ensured a Watcher of Purity would always, always be looking over his shoulder. Despite his ingrained disgust of the servants of the Clockwork Tyrant and all their offspring, the hidden mage could not help but feel a measure of kinship with the older man. It was not pity, but instead the realization that Florian was already living one of his own potential fates. A servant of the State, whose magics would be put to use but who would never be truly trusted as punishment for the sins of their fathers. A threat to be harnessed, or discarded.

But at the same time, he was far more confused than he had been before. Which was not a particularly easy feat. Had Eitan truly thrown a fresh private into the maelstrom of Zaichaeri society without any ulterior motive? Heedless of how society would react to Florian, or merely confident in his ability to protect his subordinate from the blowback? Just what was the baseborn officer's game? While the shift in Albrecht's tone when he began to speak of his superior was unmistakable, it could be ignored for the moment. Though the lordling would be lying if he said he wasn't curious, it seemed both unrelated to him and - far more importantly - irrelevant to whether or not the Order was onto him.

He shared none of these thoughts with his rudely awoken guest, instead buying himself time to think by methodically slicing open a pear by feel alone. Conscious of appearances, he made the effort to lower his head, a performance of sight for an audience of one. When he finally spoke again, it was only after he had eaten a slice and raised his head up once more. His gaze did not so much meet Florian's as pass through him, his focus continually drifting without the ability to lock onto the other man's eyes.

"It is rare for one to be precisely what they appear, but it seems that you are the genuine article," he began to explain, painfully aware that he had almost apologized to a Lysanrin. And then he decided to bite the bullet. "I am sorry. You have no doubt spent the entire morning rather confused." As he spoke, he pushed the plate that he had carefully placed the pear slices upon towards Florian. "Commander Angevin appears by all accounts to be an officer and a gentleman, a pleasure to converse with. Watcher Angevin is an entirely different matter. I was uncertain which brought you to my party and sent me this note, but happily I seem to now have those answers."

He seemed content at his response for a moment, and then frowned as he ate another grape with visibly less grace than he had managed before, his mind clearly focusing. "Which is just as absurd a statement as anything else I've said to you thus far, isn't it? I owe you an explanation worthy of the name, and I shall attempt to address what I believe concerns you. I have spent the past six days in fear of you not for the blood that flows in your veins, but the possibility that you were a servant of the Order. The notion that you were what you were said to be, and nothing more, had never occurred to me. You have convinced me however, and I no longer fear you. Does that suffice?"

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 9:07 pm**

Anton seemed to be getting at something, and Florian struggled to piece it together. But Anton was afraid of the Order, of a Watcher of Purity, when he had no need to be. He didn't seem stupid, though, and that meant there was need to be. He rememebered the glance that Thysbae had given him at the debut. He didn't know why the Lysanrin had looked so worried, but maybe he had seen something that Florian hadn't. His train of thought was distracted by Anton's gaze, unfocused and drifting. He seemed like he had tried to look at him, but...

"You're blind?" He asked, and leaned a bit across the table to get a closer look. It was a broad accusation, but Florian was not much for tact, and if he was wrong it was an easy enough mistake to correct. It would explain the way he had acted, and how he tried to rectify it now. He would have had no idea that Florian was Lysanrin, because if he had, he wouldn't have caread if he were acknowledged at the party or not.

And then he lept back onto his previous train of thought. "Why would you be concerned with me? Thysbae was there, too, and he is affiliated with the Order." They were both tethered to Reconciliators, but Thysbae was even more officially tied. He had the title of Spellbreaker, even. "Of the two Lysanrin, you picked the wrong one to be worried about."

He reached for another strawberry and relaxed a bit as his eyes returned to their neutral blue. It seemed he had done nothing wrong after all, but now he wondered if it was Anton who had done something wrong.

"Why are you so concerned with Commander Angevin's desire to meet you? It seemed like a normal invitation to me. The Noble Gambit is a fine ship." Florian could understand some implications that attracting attention from the Order might mean, but Eitan was also not just a member of the order - he tread in the same circles of society as Anton, he was in the military - and to focus on just the one facet seemed unusually paranoid.

Posted: **Thu Aug 26, 2021 10:12 pm**

Another peal of laughter filled the room and another rasping cough followed, Anton's chest shuddering as he regained his breath. Despite the clear weakness of his condition, when he spoke next it was in the happiest voice that Florian had heard from him since he had greeted Stefan Dornkirk. "I am beginning to see why Eitan finds you good company. You have literally no idea who I am, and even if you did, you wouldn't care." Relaxing in his chair, he paused for a moment to drink from a crystal glass of water to once more let himself think. He had aroused suspicion, but perhaps an ounce of truth would be enough to forestall any future investigation.

"You are wrong to think that I am not also concerned about Thysbae, but he is a less pressing matter. House Michaelis and House Monteliyet have long been friends, and Dreyfus himself is aware of my condition. While I cannot say that I was pleased at his choice of entourage, I do not fear that he will attempt to place me in the Hall of Enlightenment." He did not bother to add that the fact that Thysbae was Lysanrin was a surprise to him, but he would certainly need to ask Drefyus just who knew the truth of his pet 'Rathari'.

The second crunch gave him information enough to narrow down that his guest was eating strawberries, and almost reflexively he passed a narrow saucer of sugar towards him even as he continued to speak. "Which brings us to your other questions. I suppose I have imposed upon you enough for answers." With one hand he plucked another grape, bringing it up to in between his eyes. "I am near enough to blind, yes. Certainly beyond the ability of any lens to salvage," he said, bringing the fruit closer and further for a few moments before popping it in his mouth. "According to my doctors the issue lays behind the eye, whatever that means."

He paused for a moment, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I have spent my entire life expecting that anyone I talked to would know about me. Having to explain is.... odd. Well. No use delaying it, Eitan would be able to tell you himself. My existence is a disgrace to Zaichaer, the fact that I live and breath an insult to New Atheism, and if I had the the poor luck to possess a less tender father I would surely be dead. I have been ill my entire life. The greatest, or at least most expensive, physicians could do little but keep me on this side of death. So my father went to the Gods. He spent far more than gold to see me survive. you understand? Mystics may be accepted and registered within Zaichaer, but for a man of his status to require one, well. There were men at my own gala who'd rather see their sons die than suffer that shame."

Anton ended even the pretense of maintaining eye contact with Florian, his head drooped in thought. These were words he had never had to say, and the difficulty of voicing them took even him by surprise. Pleasant breakfast conversation indeed.

"I will never be accepted by the State. Not truly. The stain of the divine cannot be removed, and my adherence to the ideology of the State will always be questioned as a result. I simply wished to know if my invitation to speak privately with an unknown member of the Order was a polite prelude to my reeducation. But I see I have let my anxiety get the better of me, and made a mess of your morning."

Posted: **Fri Aug 27, 2021 3:02 am**

Florian continued eating strawberries as Anton talked, and talked, and talked. Though the news that Dreyfus was not very good at his job, considering he seemed to know about whatever issue that seemed to be why the Order was after him. It couldn't have possibly been because he had his life saved by some sort of divine magic. It did not occur to the Lysanrin that anyone would care, even a little bit, about the fact, let alone see it as cause to be sent for re-education. And it clearly was not that big of a deal, because he was telling him, and they'd essentially just met. Florian had no loyalty to Anton, and the more he spoke about his plight, the more he felt the rising urge to punch the spoiled brat in the face. He wouldn't, but he felt it.

He took another strawberry.

"That must be very difficult for you." Florian replied to the mess of storytelling. It was insulting to be told how hard their life had been by someone with as much ancient wealth as Anton Michaelis. "You must not leave the estate much, then." The st atement was meant as a jab, but he didn't want to push his luck much more. This was a man whom Eitan had wanted to establish some sort of friendly relations wih, and he didn't want to jeopardize that with blatant insults.

He took yet another strawberry, though the bowl of sugar sat ignored in front of him.

Why Anton had felt the need to tell him any of this, Florian could not figure out. Maybe he had just really wanted someone to talk to, but it was bizarre that he would invite him, a Lysanrin he had met once, to do this. He had been worried about the order, and maybe Florian could understand the suspicion, but this was extensive paranoia.

"Do you need anything else from me, then?"

Posted: **Fri Aug 27, 2021 3:47 am**

Anton was sheltered, but not stupid, and Florian was making no particular attempt to hide how he felt about him. If the Lysanrin left thinking that the concerns of pride among the nobility were absurd, well, perhaps he was right. At very worst he'd bring attention to himself, but that seemed to be in the cards no matter what he did. Ideally, Eitan would understand the message being conveyed far better than his... evidently not servant. That entire relationship confused the young lord to no end. Florian clearly had no training accepting messages for his master, as if he had never served in such an intimate capacity before, but was treated as if he were. Something was off, his every attempt to contextualize the pair in any manner that made sense to him repeatedly proven wrong.

"No. No I do not get out very often at all. This is actually the longest conversation I have ever had with someone not related to me or in my employ. Perhaps they're all too nice to tell me to shut up," he said with a shrug, well aware of how he was perceived. It wasn't good, not by any means, but it was a reputation he could work with. Despite thinking that it might be better for both of them if he just shut up and let the private go on his way, he couldn't help himself. "If everything you've said is true, you must be quite the soldier for Commander Angevin to hold you in such esteem. I wish I could say the State would respect such service." He didn't bother giving trite warnings, from the way Florian reacted he well knew his fate. Regardless of how he felt about the Lysanrin overall, Anton could not help but think it cruel that this one in particular had effectively lined up at the slaughterhouse of his own accord.

He did however feel bizarrely insulted that Florian ignored the bowl of sugar.

"But yes. I did bring you here for mundane business as well, though I seem to have misunderstood your relationship with the Commander. It will not happen again, but while you are still here... You had mentioned that the Noble Gambit was a fine ship, and setting my past concerns aside I would much like to tour her. Are you aware of any pressing engagements that the ship or Commander have, or am I truly free to arrive at my leisure? While I admit I do not get out much, I know all too well the chaos a well meaning civilian in camp can bring about at the best of times. I do not wish for him to accommodate me out of politeness while you and the rest of the crew are forced to work around me."

Posted: **Fri Aug 27, 2021 10:24 pm**

Florian smiled, but he knew that Anton could not see it. It was odd that he would hide his blindness from society, and even odder how he got around and identified people. To top off the strangeness, he wanted a tour of an airship he could not rightly see, in a meeting that would likely serve just as well in his own estate. He didn't answer Anton's question, or really respond to anything else he said. It was true that the State saw him as a disposable tool, and the fact that he was the longest conversation that Anton had ever had was annoying in and of itself. Did it have to be him?

"Why do you wish to visit the airship when you can't see the airship?" He could admit that the breeze was nice, and if Anton had really not left the estate much, maybe getting out was ideal. But it seemed unduly uncomfortable for him to go somewhere he couldn't see. And then he blinked.

"I think you should ask him directly." He shrugged, an action he realized was useless after he did it. "I imagine you'd want to coordinate everything regardless...?" Florian had no idea why Anton kept talking to him. It seemed like he was just lonely enough that even a Lysanrin was interesting company, but he also did not find himself particularly interesting to talk to. But maybe to someone like him he was a novelty. It seemed that everyone he had met that tread these circles thought he was a novelty or a tool. A step up from lesser-than-dirt, but he would have rathered he were a person.

"Why do you hide that you're blind, then? Is it really so dire a curse that you must hide it?"

Legend of Ransera

Audience [Florian]

Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]

Re: Audience [Florian]