Piettro ambled along in his plainclothes, admiring the delicate roses, light lilacs, and warm oranges that the sunset painted across the sky. His purse, made a bit heavier by the week's pay, shifted ever so slightly with his breath, and with the thudding of his heart. Up ahead of him, a slow, deep toned bell began tolling the seventh hour.
Can have a pendant made, he thought casually, casting an eye over to a small public sundial that had been carved into the side of a manse. That small white agate stone...
He passed an incense street vendor on the way to the College of War Wizards, and cast a polite, but disinterested smile at the somewhat disheveled man and his small wooden selling booth. A strongly built Elven woman trotted down the street beyond the Purple Dragon and the vendor, unbeknownst to both. As soon as she spotted the seller, she hustled toward her fellow soldier with a bit more urgency.
"Lemongrass for you?" the seller offered as he gave Piettro a vacant-eyed grin. "Brings clarity of the mind; a great boon for a future commander."
Probably his hundredth pitch today, Piettro thought wearily. Sense's dulled by all the rejections.
"Cypress for physical strength of all kinds- sage to clear your soul of any impurities such as avarice or pride," the seller continued, motioning behind himself to the wooden set up. Piettro took some time to notice the marks on the beams where the binding straps must have gone.
New around here, but no stranger to the road.
"Answers to questions you hadn't thought to ask are all here, ser," the vendor continued carefully, somewhat concerned about the soldier's lack of physical or verbal response. "If you would but let me show you to them..."
The Elven woman- Veladwyn- made it to the two gentlemen before Piettro finally decided to answer.
"Hey there; the market's that way," she offered with a warm, but firm voice. "Perhaps someone should show you to that?"
"There's precious little room in the market proper," the seller replied simply as he pushed his hands into the wide sleeves of his worn tunic and turned toward her, "and none at all for such as myself. I thought it might be a good idea to market my little blessings here, closer to those who would better appreciate them. Chamomile for you, my lady? It'll do wonders for your tensions."
"I'm sure we can find a proper place for your stall," the Elf replied affably, completely unchanged by the seller's problem or proposition. "I'm stationed at the College proper, and can't be of too much service to you, but if I lodge a request of assistance with my-"
"Here's five lions," Piettro cut in, undoing the tie to his purse and fishing for the coins. "The gossip mill's too vicious for open marketing. Make the acquaintance of one Blade Fenris; if you offer cassia and he demands true cinnamon as though you've insulted him, you'll have him."
"Kind, kind ser!" the seller objected, sparks of embarrassment and terror flashing in his eyes. "Such charity is tremendous, and I would- ah, wait..."
"Tremendous isn't the word for this," Veladwyn muttered, just loud enough for Piettro to hear it, as the seller rummaged through the various purses at his waist.
"He's no pusher," Piettro whispered back as he pulled his purse strings shut again.
Veladwyn squinted at Piettro in annoyance. "Maybe not, but he's still-"
"Orris," the seller pronounced with satisfaction, when he'd found the object of his search at last. "Offers the protection and the passion of the moon- and is too rarely used, in my opinion. So many make empty, useless offerings- their own ignorance dooms their prayers. Two lions, and you have my word, I'll take your advice to the center of my heart."
"Glad to hear it- a hand for the stall?" Piettro asked as he received the sheer cloth bag of small, white blooms with one hand, then opened the other to show the five coins.
"No, no," the seller protested with upraised hands. "I couldn't-"
"For your own offerings, hmm?" Piettro insisted with lowered tone and volume. "Dunno that I've seen orris, around here."
The vendor looked slowly up from the coins to Piettro, then nodded as he opened his hand to accept all five coins. "I know you risk not often, but much, once compelled. Orris for Selune's grace and protection, good ser; look to it. With my lady's pardon?"
Veladwyn said nothing to the seller in reply, and grabbed Piettro's arm before he could say anything else.
"That is a risk, you know," she crabbed once she'd gotten him half way up the street from which she had come. "Down the road from dozens of diviners, and you decide to point out a Dragon who turns a blind eye on side alley sales?"
"Man's not very well going to peddle strength, tranquility, and clarity of mind to fiends," Piettro argued, tugging his arm around of Veladwyn's grasp. "I know the place, and he's a stranger; why shouldn't I give him a solid foothold around here?"
"You can't give a foreigner a foothold by telling him how to get away with selling dishonestly!" Veladwyn hissed. "He's supposed to-"
"Leave him to Fenris," Piettro said flatly. "He's stationed in the alleys for good reason. That man does any damage, he'll clap him in irons as faster than any of us."
The Elf gave a frustrated grunt, but fell silent, unwilling to continue the argument all the way onto the College grounds. The two officers joined the short entry line at the heavy wooden check-in stalls and saluted the Dragon one at a time before signing a scroll that documented their presence there. Piettro assumed that his conversation with Veladwyn was over, and began to stroll away from the stall that he'd entered comfortably, but the Elf looked around for him after she'd finished signing and quickly returned to his side. Around them, other Purple Dragons and mage students alike parted as though the two of them carried the most infectious of plagues. Being used to at least the occasional head nod or wave from the permanently stationed soldiers, or the students who routinely left the same classes at the same times each day, Piettro found himself irritated with the collective avoidance.
"I suppose you've got nothing better to do than follow me around," he managed tersely after a few moments of silence had gone by.
Veladwyn coughed out a strange laugh just as sharp as the "joke" that had provoked it. "There's enough for me to do, sad to say. Factoring protection wards and casting them. Powering them. Teaching the greenhorns how to power them. Recasting them every four hours, or any other time the guard has to rotate. Refactoring and recasting them every time some idiot Evocation student sets them off-"
"Ask for reassignment," Piettro interrupted, "if you hate it that much."
"I have," the Elf said pointedly. "I asked to go anywhere that isn't here."
"You are to the College like Fenris is to the alleys," Piettro replied, feeling as though he had been baited into paying Veladwyn a compliment. "Not a lot of skull bashers are much good to the wand wavers; you're different."
"What I wonder is, why a skull basher is stuck on personal detail for a caster," Veladwyn said airily, ignoring the implied compliment altogether.
"What does my assignment have to do with your wanting to be reassigned?" Piettro asked, just barely stopping himself from snorting at the Elf.
"Qualifications and abilities! This Eunice woman is a magister's apprentice, a wand waver, as you so elegantly put it. What good you're supposed do her, I don't understand. More boots are needed in the market, but the brass won't send you. The mages could actually do their own casting, like they're supposed to, but there's no chance they'll ever even shift you there. No, instead of being put in the danger of actually having to draw your sword once or twice, you're skirtfasted to Ranclyffe's useless surrogate brat."
"Good to hear you're not angry about it," Piettro muttered, more to himself than to the Elf.
"The captain feels you've been inappropriately posted," Veladwyn huffed. "He's spoken to me about it multiple times."
"Look, I can't control what the captain wants to complain about," Piettro sighed. "He shouldn't be whining to inferiors at all, but..."
Eunice came out of her last class- Clear Proof Writing for Mystics and Diviners- and was the last student to leave, as usual. She turned to her right when she walked out of the professor's small cottage classroom and looked for Piettro, who could usually be found sitting under a large tree a few paces away. When she noticed that he was still up the street, and in the company of a handsomely shaped, sandy haired, blue eyed Elf of some sort, she felt a strange tightening in her chest.
"...and if that's the real problem, then he should go talk to Garimond, man to man," Piettro finished strongly.
"Garimond's opinion isn't gold," Veladwyn argued. Piettro turned sharply away from her and began walking quickly toward a large tree, and the Elf had to hurry to match his change of direction and pace. "The suspect is a worker of magics, based on the rune he put on her door, and a battlemage-"
"You think command doesn't know that?" Piettro groaned, the words laced with frustration. "Problem is that based on expert testimony, the bastard would rather use his knife. There's no counterspell for a knife."
"Domination and enchantment spells means he wants her alive," the Elf argued. "I'm telling you-"
"Vela, I did as much arguing with the brass as I was going to do weeks ago," Piettro stated in an unmistakably exasperated tone. "When we first started, we were rotated- twelve grunts, then six, then three. Now I'm the only-"
"And how's Noelle supposed to feel? About your having to follow some woman into her ho-"
"If Noelle were upset, she'd tell me herself," Piettro warned, turning on Veladwyn so suddenly that she felt threatened. "She'd talk to me, woman to man, instead of sending a proxy, like you do. What's more, how we handle my posting is none of your damn-"
"Hi, Blade Xiarlethi!" Eunice called, trotting up with her class text and notes clutched tightly to her chest. I'll have to apologize for that scry when we get home.
Piettro turned over his shoulder and smiled, every cloud of anger gone from his face and tone. "Afternoon, Apprentice magister. This is Blade Veladwyn Soire."
"Oh! Are you related to Firstsword Noelle Soire?" Eunice asked brightly, walking around so that Veladwyn was between herself and Piettro.
"I... uh... yes," the Elf fumbled, clearly confused as she looked around herself. "By marriage. I married her brother, Arcois- if you know him?"
"Oh, yes- he's a... fourth or fifth level illusionist, isn't he? Whichever he is, he's very good." Eunice smiled winningly, and Piettro bit his lips on his smirk.
"Fifth," Vela replied with faded enthusiasm. "He just passed his most recent set of exams. I suppose you saw his practical?"
"You're joking with me- you must be!" Eunice chuckled, unwrapping her right arm from her books and flapping that arm's hand at the Elf as though she'd just heard a stale joke from a good friend. "A radiant purple dragon, taller than a Giant, appearing out of thin air? I think the whole campus saw that."
"He wanted the whole city to see that," Piettro corrected, so quietly that Eunice almost believed that she hadn't really heard the comment aloud at all.
There was a moment of incredibly awkward silence between all three of them. No one moved a single muscle.
"So have you met Noelle, or...?" Vela ventured at last.
"Not yet," Eunice replied calmly. "But I can't wait. So many lovers talk all sorts of nonsense, but she among women is truly fortunate to have a partner who really does think about her nearly all the time. If I hadn't taught Blade Xiarlethi a simple abjuring spell, I'd never be able to concentrate."
Vela turned incredulous eyes on Piettro, who rolled his eyes.
Eunice took all of five seconds to realize that she'd made a mistake.
"So you can understand 'all that magic-y stuff'!" the Elf charged.
"No, he only just learned," Eunice countered, unsure of what she could say to fix the situation. "He hadn't had mental sanctity cla-"
"Because he opted out of them," Vela cut in, her voice nearly a growl. "Said he didn't understand a word!"
"I didn't!" Piettro exclaimed, leaning his head back so that it seemed as though he were speaking to the sky. "It was a waste of-"
"But you understand enough to learn an abjuring spell?"
"We all got the basic talking to, and-"
"That doesn't replace an entire semester-"
"It was easy," Eunice interrupted, panic stealing icily into her heart. "A very simple spell. I'd teach it to a child-"
The Elf held up a hand to Eunice, which stunned her into silence. "That class is made simpler than the most basic abjuration coursework on purpose; they know we're all soldiers. No one makes you factor the spells; they just test your natural comprehension and then teach to what you can actually cast. So you should have told somebody that you can fully understand-"
"Vela, it took me days to-"
"What?" Eunice squeaked, too surprised to hold her tongue. "It took you an hour and a half!"
Piettro groaned and flopped his head down with his eyes closed.
Veladwyn's eyes flashed with indignation. "You have everyone thinking you're simple-"
"I never said that I-"
"-or slow, or something, so that it's a shock-"
"Perhaps I could expl-" Eunice tried, still not fully recovered from Piettro's attempt at a blatant lie.
"-to all of us when they put you on personal detail for-"
"For me," Eunice said firmly, but miserably. "I'm so sorry I brought this up at all."
"Well, I'm glad you did," Veladwyn proclaimed. "You, Piettro Ezio Xiarlethi, are effectively lying to the command of the Purple Dragons! And if you don't-"
"Why are you yelling in public?" a fourth voice hissed from somewhere behind Piettro. Obligingly, the man moved to his left, revealing a short, but curvaceous human with a fiercely tight, honey brown bun resting perfectly atop her head. While she had no armor on, nor any sign of the Purple Dragon's crest at all, Eunice found she couldn't help but imagine that she too was some sort of officer.
Piettro released a long, slow breath. "On duty?"
"What did you just say, officer?" came the biting reply.
Eunice's gaze dropped momentarily to the ground, and she found herself too nervous to even scry.
"I... apologize for the noise, Firstsword Soire; it... won't..."
"Don't lie to me, Blade Xiarlethi," the woman replied, putting her slightly chubby, pink hands on her hips. "Or if you feel you must, you could at least turn around and look me in the face, so that I can see your guilt as clearly as I can hear it."
Slowly, ever so slowly, Piettro turned around on his heel, then picked his head slightly up and opened his eyes to look at the woman- perfectly, without a fraction of an inch's mistake.
The woman nodded firmly, then demanded, "Which of you started it?"
"No, no," Eunice interrupted, stepping away from Veladwyn's side and looking up so that she could clearly see the woman. "I started it. By accident, but... I started it, all the same."
"Oh, you," the woman smiled, looking over to Eunice. "Look, I know this wasn't your fault. Give me a moment to knock these knuckle heads together, and we'll meet each other properly, hmm?"
"Alright," Eunice replied, feeling a smirk creep across her own face.
"You two know I have to write you up for things like this," the woman urged, lowering her voice suddenly. "How did you even find each other to get into this? And did you forget you're both on duty right now?"
Piettro closed his eyes again and shifted from foot to foot, unwilling to say a word. The woman, as if she'd had to perform this act hundreds of times before, didn't bother to demand that he restore his gaze. Instead, she bored holes into the Elf who was a bit more than twice her height.
"Now, I am sick, sick to death, of you picking at each other! And so is Arcois, so don't start with the 'family honor.' Arcois isn't half as dissatisfied with Ezi as you seem to always be, and it is beginning to drive him as far up the wall as it does me, which is quite possibly the only positive outcome this ridiculous bickering could ever possibly have. Now, what was it this time, so that whatever it is, we can settle it and be done?"
An uncomfortable silence ensued. After the first few moments, Eunice turned to look at Veladwyn, and was stunned to see that the Elf was legitimately glowering at her sister-in-law.
"Aren't you going to tell her?" she finally asked, incredulous.
Piettro slowly shook his head, and Eunice discovered a surprising jolt of annoyance within herself.
"Well, I taught Blade Xiarlethi a basic abjuration spell, which he learned in an hour and a half, despite not having any mental sanctity classes," she stated frankly. "He factors very well-"
"Which he failed to properly demonstrate, or even casually mention to the brass," Veladwyn interrupted. Piettro didn't even bother looking at her.
"That's it?" The woman sighed deeply, then surprised everyone gathered by ending the sigh with a short chuckle. "You're annoyed that he didn't take the sanctity classes, but can still factor and cast a simple shielding spell? That's why you're yelling at him in the middle of the street, with about an hour to dusk bell?"
"It is my complaint that he lied his way out of the soldier's mental sanctity class, yet still got an assignment in which demonstrated magical acumen is imperative, both for the mark's safety and- of course- his own," Veladwyn managed in a respectful, but noticeably tight voice.
There was a bitter silence that Eunice dared not trouble.
Again the woman sighed, but this time, there was no hint of amusement. "Blade Xiarlethi, due to the fact that you have not appropriately completed your basic mental sanctity testing, you are banned from College grounds until it is. You are to wait for your charge on the opposite side of the street; she will be checked out at the gate and escorted to you by an appropriately tested officer, with whom you will have to check in every day. Likewise, when you return your charge to College grounds, you will stop at that same location across the street and allow that same officer to escort her away from you. Further, while you are on duty, you are not to speak to Blade Veladwyn Soire for any reason. If you do, or if you cross onto the College grounds, I will suspend you without pay for disrespecting your superior officer. Am I understood?"
Piettro actually stood straight and snapped a salute before he responded. "Yes ma'am, Firstsword."
"And Blade Soire, while on duty, you are not to speak to Blade Xiarlethi at all. Ever. For any reason. If anyone at all reports to me that you so much as bless him when he sneezes, I will write you up for the disturbance of the peace. Have I made myself understood?"
"Yes, Firstsword," Veladwyn replied, about as sharply as if someone had just then stuck her with a thick hatpin.
"Good. This is your last warning, both of you; mind the crest, or you will lose it. Dismissed."
Eunice allowed a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding to escape her as the Elven woman left. The drawn face, sharp wordless salute, and tight departing stride left no questions about whether or not she'd been happy about the warning.
"Well, we won't be invited for week's end dinner parties for a while," the woman commented under her breath as she too watched the Elf leave. "Not that you'd mind the loss."
"Lee, I don't know that Arcois is changing his opinion of me," Piettro replied after a few moments' pause. "I think he's just learning to shut up about how much he hates me, and even that only due to your ma's advice."
The woman gave a short puff of breath that was too gentle to be a true scoff. "He told your CO a few things behind closed doors, I'm told. So if she's looking for somewhere to place blame for the fact that you got this job without really demonstrating that you could do it- she'd have to place that complaint over his head, not mine."
Piettro looked up with a grunt that now struck Eunice as clearly understandable as if he'd actually put words to his disbelief.
"He didn't volunteer to sing your praises, but Ranclyffe recommended you for the personal detail, and the brass seem to think that you've got a streak of illusion talent in you, so they tapped Arcois to see if you were really as good as Ranclyffe suspects you might be. Mind you, they'd all know what kind of talent you have, and how much, if you'd only finish your testing...?"
"Or I can lose the crest altogether," Piettro shrugged. "Then I'll have to join some caravan, or guard some old fop's manse."
"Ugh, Ezi," the woman groaned with feigned misery, exaggerating the rolling of her eyes. "You say that so often that sometimes, I suspect it's what you really want. Perhaps I ought to ask the apprentice; so much time spent with a heretofore casually open spirit has probably earned her a bit of knowledge that might prove useful to me."
"I'm not that good," Eunice piped up immediately, feeling as though she'd done enough damage for the day.
And it was Piettro's turn to look at Eunice incredulously.
The woman, noticing the reaction, smiled radiantly. "You're good; I have that on solid testimony. If you hadn't guessed by now, I'm Noelle. And it's good to finally meet the poor caster to whom my rumbly-mumbly Piettro has been skirt-fasted."
Eunice's eyes popped wide, but she bit her lips on her laughter.
"Oh yes; I know you know what I'm talking about," Noelle continued. "The way he grunts his opinion at you when something doesn't make sense to him."
"Or the way he chews up answers he doesn't want to give," Eunice offered. "Even before I taught him anything, his mind would just get... quiet, sometimes. He's a natural abjurer, I think, always trying to prevent his feelings from escaping, even before he really knew how."
"That's... not too far off from right, I think," Noelle mused, a romantic seriousness seizing her for just a moment.
Piettro looked at Noelle with a hint of mischievousness, and for just a moment, Eunice felt as though she could see them looking at each other in just that way, many years in the future. Silver raced back from Piettro's temples through his neatly tied hair, and weary creases weighted the corners of his eyes and lips. Noelle's hair went completely white, but her healthy cheeks and impish smile went completely unchanged. Only a few extra furrows on her high brow allowed her face to show any wear at all.
The vision lasted only a moment- it ended sharply when the lovers looked away from each other, and at their viewer.
"Oh," Noelle said, reaching out to lay a careful hand on Eunice's upper arm. "You've gone pale- are you alright?"
"Maybe needs some water," Piettro stated. "Moments like that- I don't ask. I give her space. And maybe water."
"I can draw you some water when we get you closer to home- you're on your way home, aren't you?" Noelle asked good-naturedly. "Blade Xiarlethi is on duty, but Firstsword Soire-" she gave a mischievous chuckle- "is not. So I can just tag along as an... unusually martially-trained friend."
Eunice felt blood tingle in her cheeks, and the twitchy beginnings of a smirk tugging at her lips. "If you aren't on duty, then how-"
"Don't worry about it," Noelle replied. "Honestly, Ezi and Vela have so many complaints on their records that any ranked officer would have done the same as I did- and possibly worse, Ezi. As much as I hate to admit it, Vela's right about your testing. Nobody's word is going to stand against a solid non-compliance complaint, if she can manage to get somebody to log one for her."
Piettro merely shrugged, then turned and began walking away from both women. Noelle gestured to him as she looked at Eunice, in a universal show of "see what I have to put up with?" that provoked a chuckle from the apprentice.
"Ezi is from Skullwatch- you told her that, right? Anyway, that's where his casual disreguard for regulations comes from. Now, the Soire family hails from Westgate, and to tell the truth, most of them are still there. Did he tell you how we met?" Noelle asked jovially.
"No!" Eunice replied with excitement. "And I was curious, too- tell me, tell me!"
Piettro paused until the two women passed him, then continued walking behind them after they had gone by.
I'll buy the agate and have it set, he thought, allowing himself the pleasure of admiring Noelle's striking figure. And if they're going to be friends, I won't have to wait. She'll even be excited to have been there.
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