• Open • The Imperial March

[Lorogh]

22nd of Ashan 722

The March

20th - 25th of Ashan, The March: The first festival of Ashan is one that is likely seen as strange to many outside perspectives, but it is one that is born of the emphasis that Imperial culture places on military service. The March is when the soldiers of the Imperial Army are rotated to new posts, whether to join a new campaign or just to give the soldiers a more varied experience of the Eternal Empire. The March is basically an empire-spanning parade, with crowds gathering to both welcome the incoming soldiers and to see the outbound soldiers off. Because of this and the sheer size of the empire, the March doesn't happen at the same time all throughout the empire, instead spanning a range of 15 days, with each gathering happening when the soldiers depart or arrive.

The immense curtain walls of Cahryst, having stood for centuries against the predations of the Forest of Corpses, rose from the landscape near as well kept as if they'd been newly built. A marvel of Imperial engineering, they stretched near as far as any among the ranks could see in either direction, hemming in the great city of Cahryst. Yet the people were not content to stay idle within the walls, but gathered for miles outside of the walls, cheering the soldiers who had arrived at the end of their March.

Far from the pragmatic affair that one would expect of Imperial culture, there were all manner of ribbons and confetti thrown as the soldiers arrived. Mixed among them, some concessions to cost-effectiveness, colorful autumn leaves chopped to bits and mixed in with the rest of the mess. Yet it was all the same to most of the soldiers, many of whom bolstered with pride to receive such a reception.

Their lines stretched for miles down the road. Full companies of soldiers that had been gathered from posts as far as Winter Reach, to Southern Plains, and other more intermediate posts such as Korlasir. It gave the soldiers a chance to see more of the immense Empire they'd sworn to uphold. A chance to find a place in its society, as they mixed with people they'd yet to meet.

To Lorogh, as he entered through the large gatehouse into Cahryst, it was a celebration that rivaled any festive Zi'da feast in Saoire's Dream. More than that, he felt appreciated by his adopted home, as some of the people around cheered him personally. Every soldier must've experienced that welcome, he reflected, as he walked the way to the main Fortress, to receive an address from the Marshal, presumably, or attend the ceremonies of welcome that would bring the soldiers into their new posting. Lorogh wasn't entirely sure what to expect from all of this, but he did expect to be impressed. The Empire had scarcely failed to do so in all the time he'd been here so far.

A half break into the March, the companies that had been assembled to their new posts arrived at the large Imperial plaza, where the ceremonies were to begin. The mingling among the soldiers and citizenry, a time for speeches and thanks giving for the armed forces, and of course praise for the Immortals who ruled over the Empire.

Lorogh stood at attention with the rest of his ranks. Alec stood next to Lorogh, having received a lungful of the fallen autumn leaves, and sneezing incessantly. Lorogh felt for him, but there was little to be done for now, but let the lad shake off his terrible allergies. The cadouri for his part stood as tall as he could at four feet, beside the pony that carried his belongings, and wait for the troops to be set at ease, and the ceremonies to begin.

[Russel Kandor]

The drumbeat of black boots against slate stone shook the air of that ancient city of Cahryst. Cheers from citizens and soldiers alike joined the chorus, stretching sound out for miles surrounding the city. Russel's own heart pounded alongside the rhythm of army's march, though from synchronicity or anxiety the youth could not yet determine.

He had never seen so many people in all his life, let alone been one small part of the focus of a cheering crowd. His own clan had never come up to the city during his childhood, content to celebrate amidst the other country clans who had neither the means nor the time to travel during the March. And to now be in the middle of the Empire's Might, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with seasoned veterans and new recruits alike, displaying their pride for nation and being celebrated for their service? The immensity of joy signing through the air near-overwhelmed Russel, and he could not keep a pink blush from climbing into his cheeks.

However, as he stepped in rhythm with the rest of the Infantry Company, the Kandor could not help but feel a creeping sadness begin to take hold of him. This was his first and last march as a part of the infantry. He had been unofficially reassigned after his unit's massacre, sent to the Mage Corps so that Imperial Sorcerers could study the spouting vines and blooming corpseflowers that stitched and twisted through his skin. After a season of study, they determined a more permanent assignment was necessary, and it would be on this trial that Russel would be one of the many soldiers changing guard. Tomorrow, he would officially be an Agent, and leave the memories of his old unit behind.

A quick tap on his back shook Russel from his musings. He had fallen out of step, and the soldier behind him did him the courtesy of catching the error before the youth stumbled over himself in an excessively public manner. He looked back to mutter a word of thanks, but stopped as his eyes caught the imposing figure of Cahryst's gatehouse. Had they already passed through the city gates? Was he so wrapped up in his own mind that he had missed that?

Russel gritted his teeth and tried to distance himself from his own thoughts. Tried not to think about the death-scent that sprouted from his barely managed wrist-blossoms. Tried not to think about his pockets full of posies and sweet smelling flowers used to mask that very scent. And tried desperately to not think about how it felt like betraying his commander to be reassigned after their death.

Obviously, he didn't get far from those grasping thoughts. The sound of constant sneezing didn't quell his anxiety either.

Looking towards the origin of the sound, Russel mouthed a quick and sincere 'Sorry!' to a man that was only a few bodies down from him. It was clear to Russel that the man must have been sneezing because of the youth's cursed scent, regardless of the truth of the matter. He stopped for a tic, blinking in surprise at the sight of a small, otter-like person. He had never seen one of their kind before, let alone in Imperial Uniform. Then, realizing he was breaking rank and file, quickly moved to stand back at attention. He did not need to bring any more attention to himself, nor anyone else today. The March was about the Might of the Empire, not about any oddities that populated it. Himself included.

He grabbed a handful of poppies and rubbed them over his wrists, hoping that would cover the corpsestench of his Curse long enough for the ceremonies to pass without incident. Eyes turned towards the dais, he muttered a silent prayer to the Empress that the ceremonies would start soon.

[Lorogh]

The scent of poppies and sweet herbs with an underlying decrepit scent of oldness wafted into Lorogh's nostrils as Alec recovered from his allergy fit. The scent almost brought to mind the potpourri cocktails that his grandmother used to hang around her cottage in Saoire's Dream, with the scent of poppy oil and seeds, it was a nice and calming scent. Then there was the underlying decrepitude that reminded him of his grandmother herself. He supposed part of the point of all the potpourri bouquets was to conceal the scent of aging flesh. But the combination had stuck with Lorogh, reminding him of time spent playing with toys in the attic of that cottage, discovering little trinkets and bringing them into his play. On the whole, the association was a pleasant one to the Cadouri.

He wanted to know where the scent was coming from! He looked all around, breaking rank slightly as they came to a stop in the Plaza. He caught the sight of a young man, really no more than an adolescent by Lorogh's estimation, rubbing poppies on his wrist. He didn't speak to him yet, but noted the flowers that seemed to grow from his skin, and his uncomfortable posture. Lorogh wondered what was bothering him just a moment more, before the speeches began.

The speeches weren't much to write home about. Mostly old campaigners and officers droning on about duty and glory and all the things that made the Empire great. Not to discount those virtues, but Lorogh already knew all about them. It was what prompted him to seek out the Empire to begin with, as it seemed the best hope of bringing the illumination of technology and enlightened modes of living to the rest of the world through righteous conquest or peaceful annexation.

At the tail end of the speeches, Lorogh rose his voice in unison with the rest of the soldiers, "Glory to the Empress!" And before the break was done, the speeches were commenced and the soldiers were allowed to be at ease, and mingle with their new battallion-mates.

Lorogh looked around, trying to find the young man he'd spotted with the vines in his skin and the potpourri smell. Alec meanwhile excused himself to speak with the rest of their new unit, a group of siege engineers from many corners of the Empire.

Lorogh's search was complicated by his shortness of height. He couldn't very well look over the heads of his fellow soldiers, and so had to try and spot around their bodies, for a chance glimpse of the young one he'd seen.

The cadouri didn't need to search long, as it happened, as the young man appeared to be close to their position.

He walked up to the young man, and looked up at him, "Greetings comrade! Glory to the Empress. I'm Private Lorogh Lerake, with the Siege corps." He scratched the back of his neck, and looked at the young man. But he did seem uncomfortable, and Lorogh wanted to help if he could. One weight lifted another, and all that. "So what's say we find the feasting tables set up on the plaza outskirts, and have a chat? I think I smelled some cheese and potato casserole and stews cookin. Or you can eat and I can chat. Whichever you prefer."

[Russel Kandor]

His prayers were answered. The ceremony began and ended in a blur of sound and movement.

"Glory to the Empress!" sang out thousands of voices, devotion lifting their joyful cries into the high heavens. A thousand boots stamped their approval, a thousand hands on a thousand chests beat their worship to that rhythm, and a thousand prayers for the glory of the Empire rang throughout the city of Cahryst. The very sky shook with that cacophony, and Russel would wager the thunder of the Empire's faith would even shake the storm city of Rharne.

"Glòir do 'n Bhan-phrionnsa" he cried out it broken Atvian. One of the few phrases he knew of the founder's tongue, but it felt right to utter such ancient words on such a momentous day. The language felt clumsy and rough as it passed through his untrained lips, but even awkward-leaving could not diminish the pride that swelled in his chest as his voice joined the legion that marched ever-upwards to the sky above them.

Ribbons, flowers, and confetti rained down on the collective forces as the speeches ended, signaling a time of celebration for all those that wore the Empire's colors with dignity. It was the first time in a cycle that Russel didn't mind being covered with flora, and a joyful laugh bubbled out from him as he shook the detris from his hair. The gloom and shame that clung to him earlier seemed to melt off as soldiers of all kinds went to embrace each other. Russel himself found no anxiety in gladly clasping his brothers and sisters in arms, embarrassment only creeping into his cheeks later after he realized he had been swept up in the moment.

Then, came the exchange. He found his fellows in infantry fading into the crowd, joining rank with their new divisions. Russel didn't have time to catastrophize the changing of the guard, he was too quickly swarmed and absorbed into the Mage Corps. New faces and names buzzed by his eyes and his ears alike, each new member of his division feeding on the frenzy of excitement that had overtaken the center of Cahryst.

"Names' Ava, what's yours-"

"-can't stand Attunement, never had the patience-"

"I'm a Grafter, so just let me know-"

"-gotta wait to initiate, just haven't decided-"

Sentences flowed together, and Russel found himself being transitioned from one conversation to the next. There so many people, so many questions, and so many eyes all on him at once. Whatever confidence and feeling of safety Russel had amidst the crowd praising the Empress, all of that fled from him now. He couldn't focus, couldn't think, everyone was just so loud and moving so fast and he couldn't he just couldn't-

"Greetings comrade! Glory to the Empress. I'm Private Lorogh Lerake, with the Siege corps."

Russel's panicked eyes snapped downward, to the figure of an otter at his feet. It was just strange and direct enough to stop his spiraling thoughts from overtaking him. The otter, no, Lorogh motioned towards the feasting tables a little ways away and asked if he wouldn't mind joining him. Russel nodded immediately, desperate to escape the crowd and cacophony of conversations his division was engaged in. He followed Lorogh through the crowd, and the rest of the Mage Corps carried on with little to no notice of his departure.

"Hi. And yes, Glòir do 'n Bhan-phrionnsa! Should have led with that, sorry." he started once they had some distance gained from the densest parts of the crowd. "I'm Private Russel Kandor, of the Mage Corps now, I suppose. But I'm not a mage! Not that there's anything wrong with being a mage, I mean! I'm just...not one." Russel grimaced as he finished his sentence, acutely aware of his own lack of verbal dexterity. He was thankful when they found an open spot at one of the feasting tables, having something to eat would give him an excuse make less of a fool of himself. He sat down and quickly grabbed a roll of bread to use for just such a purpose, should the need arise.

"I was Infantry, until, well, today. But I guess I already mentioned that. Sorry." The need arose, and Russel started to pick at the bread in his hand so he could focus on chewing rather than talking. On the upside, it was rather good bread. Warm and buttery, with just the right amount of chew to it. "And thanks, by the way," he managed in-between bites. "I'm not especially great, in crowds I mean. So, thanks."

Realizing he had been talking more than Lorogh, Russel's eyes burrowed into the wood of the table in front of him. By the Empress he was bad at this. The veins around his veins constricted tighter as his anxiety rose, seeming to show agreement in the spikes of pain they sent out through his body. "W-What about you? H-have y-you always b-been in the Siege Corps? Or d-d-did you transfer?"

[Lorogh]

"Glòir do 'n Bhan-phrionnsa!” Lorogh copied the secondary calls in Atvian, which he surmised were the equivalent words they’d shouted in common. He learned Atvian a little at a time, but some common phrases were well known to him at this time.

Lorogh could always catch up with his unit assignment later. This was as good a time as any to make connections in other branches. You never know when those connections could find purchase in a serendipitous way! Besides, Lorogh was hungry, and some of the lasses hanging around the tables had caught his eye.

“No worry!” Lorogh said when the lad apologized for his etiquette. He shook his head with a bright smile. Sometimes people couldn’t tell when Cadouri were being friendly, and so they had to smile a little wider than most to make their friendliness known. Although his smile was so broad that it might’ve seemed he was snarling. His tone was kind, however, “Let’s have some food and chat up those fine lasses and lads.”

As they walked over toward where the feasting areas were set up, Lorogh considered what the lad was saying about his affiliation with the Mage Corps. Magic! That was exciting. But then he wasn't a mage, at least not yet? "You're in the Mage Corps, not yet a mage? Oh, that's exciting. You'll be meeting all kinds of interesting people I'm sure." The Cadouri hadn't met many mages in his travels, and so was fairly impressed that there was something special enough about this particular young man that the Mage Corps wanted him in their employ. But for now, he'd let him have his secrets. Perhaps it was an awkward topic to breach at the first.

They made it to the table eventually, and Lorogh settled down next to the lad, helping himself to some bread and also a bit of stew that was doled out by some of the people celebrating the arrival of new troops.

He dipped the bread in and took a nibble. "Not a worry, Russel." he nodded at the young man's thanks. "I prefer the coziness of a workshop myself, or the enclosed space of a tavern. This whole feasting outside in a plaza is a bit new to me, I must admit."

Lorogh took another bite, and then nodded in thanks as a maid brought them both a pint of strong cider. Lorogh drank some of his, before answering Russel's stammered question, "Oh no, I joined in Vhalar this past year. I was going to join the Navy, but then they found out how good I was at aiming and operating a ballista, they offered to transfer me to the Siege Corps. It's exciting! I already have a big assignment..." Lorogh tried some more of the bread and stew, washing it down with more cider, before putting them aside, giving Russel a thoughtful look. "Have you ever heard of the principle of miniaturization? They've tasked me with finding ways to utilize a Cadouri's small size and other aptitudes in siege warfare. I have my report ready for Sergeant to hand to his superiors." He took a breath, "But I digress... Miniaturization, is the process of reducing the scale of things without compromising their function. It has great implications on the way we design all kinds of machines and fixtures, and I've been working on refining that principle with my ongoing reports."

But then, Lorogh was too aware that he was talking more than Russel. But perhaps the lad didn't mind. He did seem rather nervous. "Are you a native of the Empire then? Born and Raised?" Lorogh inquired. He thought that was an innocuous enough question that the lad wouldn't panic.

[Russel Kandor]

Russel blushed harder at Lorogh's mention of the "fine lads and lasses". He had been so wrapped up in the celebration and the anxiety that came with it, that he hadn't noticed that many civilians were particularly...festive in their appreciation for the soldiers of the Empire. One such individual, a younger man like himself with ribbons strewn in his hair, smiled at him as they passed; forcing Russel's eyes downward as red and ruddy embarrassment crept from his neck and high into his cheeks. Gaze glued to the ground, he might have missed Lorogh's wide smile were it not for the Cadouri's diminutive height.

"I-I-I don't think I'd be much g-good at ch-chatting with them," Russel offered in response, eye's lifting slightly as they continued walking.

"No, h-haven't b-been initiated in anything y-yet. I w-was offered r-reasignment on ac-count of an...injury I suffered, but m-magic is a bit-" Russel motioned with his free hand, wiggling his fingers and twisting his face in disapproval, "for me." A slight smile curled upwards on his cheek as Lorogh responded in confusion at his status as a non-mage in the Mage Corps. It was a response the youth was sure he would have to get use to, but puzzled expression on the otter's face brought about a bemused one on Kandor's. His re-assignment was puzzling to himself as well. He had no talent for magic, nor any real interest in developing one. He had enough external influence weighing on his soul, and the prospect of inviting another aspect into himself did not sound like an adventure he wanted to embark on. Russel knew that the researchers studying his curse had made a breakthrough of application in some way, but what that was he was still in the dark about. Whatever it was, it made a convincing enough argument to his commander to encourage re-assignment as an Agent. Something for him discover as he trained, Russel supposed.

Tired of listening to his own thoughts rattle in his mind, he turned his attention to Lorogh's. He had only joined up last Vhalar? That surprised Russel. Lorogh carried himself with more confidence than many Privates, himself included. And an engineer as well, already given a personal project! Russel listened intently as Lorogh explained the basic principles of his research. The youth never had a head for more advanced academics himself, but it was exciting to listen someone share their expertise nonetheless.

"W-wow! Sounds complicated, but useful. M-maybe I'll get to use one of y-your projects in the f-f-field?" He wondered what type of mechanism the Cadouri was working on? From his discussion of ballistas, he imagined something in the same vein as that weapon. But Lorogh did seem an inventive sort, so Russel supposed the engineer wanted to stretch beyond his comfort zone.

At the mention of his nativity, the youth's eyes turned slightly sad. It had been some time since he had thought of his clan back in Korlasir, and even longer still since he had seem them. "Y-yes. Born and r-raised. Back in the f-f-fields of Korlasir, m-my clan has an agricultural com-m-mune. Farm boy meself," he smiled despite the ache in his heart. He wasn't sure when he would see his clan next, or what had been told to them about his injury. He wasn't sure he wanted them to see him in his current state. "Joined up l-last arc. S-seemed the thing t-to d-d-do. Serve the c-clan and the Em-m-mpire."

He paused for a moment, forgetting the food that lay in front of him. His face twisted in pain as another bloom peeked out from his wrist. It would only be moments more before the scent of rot and decay filled the air, if he allowed it to stick. "Sorry, one m-moment." Unsheathing the dagger that lay at his side, and with a tremoring hand, he sheared off the bud that pierced his skin. The shaking blade nicked the edge of his wrist, causing a slight stream of scarlet to dribble out. Taking a napkin, he pressed the cloth into new cut. "The b-blooms get b-bad if I don't t-trim them."

Clearing his throat, and more than a little desperate to move on, he raised his gaze back from the new injury and back to Lorogh. "And you? Is th-there a commune of y-y-your kind in the Empire?"

[Lorogh]

Lorogh shrugged when Russel stated he wouldn't be much good to chat with the people celebrating the March. "Then we'll just chat among ourselves!" He wondered what had the lad so shaken that his voice was quivering. Was it the strange vines that wound through his flesh, or something related to that? The only other possibility that really occurred to the Cadouri was that the man might be marked, but he seemed far too uncomfortable with his condition for that to be the case. Lorogh had no idea when it came to curses.

Russel hadn't been initiated into any magics, yet. He didn't seem all too thrilled at the prospect of learning either, "Magic is intriguing. I don't think I'd be able to handle it myself. I'd be too busy trying to figure out how every bit and nook of the power works, to really use it to any sort of advantage!"

That said, it might be good to get on the ground level with some association with mages. His alchemical practice might benefit from such connections, in the future. Should he ever pursue blood magic or similar principles of alchemy.

He'd put a lid on any such prospects for now, though, given the lad's discomfort with the idea of learning magic and indeed just the act of talking, as evidenced by his painful stuttering.

Russel eventually complimented Lorogh on his field of interest, and his hopes to use his contraptions in the field. Lorogh brightened up visibly at this, "Oh I hope so! I hope to make many useful tools and armaments for the Empire! One thing specifically that I was looking into, was how flexed bow limbs hold energy... much like a coiled spring. I want to investigate how that energy is stored, and hopefully, find a way to replicate and extend the energy with consistency over a period. Extending the usage of the energy can be used to power all kinds of things! Such as spinning bits, whirling gears, and cogspinners. We could potentially even make flying machines or carts that go without horses! But first one needs to figure out how to create an engine or spring drive with a spring that can provide that much power... I've thought about how magic or wells even could provide power, but I know very little about such things at present."

Lorogh wasn't surprised to hear that Russel was born in the Empire. Most of its recruits in the Army were. Although there were exceptions, and visitors did convert to Imperial culture, Lorogh was aware of his own status as something of an oddity among the Empire. "That sounds lovely, a farming commune!"

Lorogh's eyes followed as the lad seemed to bleed a bit from the vines and growths coming from his skin. As much as he'd tried to avoid talking about it. But perhaps it wasn't as touchy a topic as Lorogh had presumed? "The blooms? What are they, if you don't mind my asking? I've never seen such a thing, from here to Melrath."

While waiting for an answer, the cadouri tried a bit of chicken leg, and nibbled on it then drank some beer that had been set on the table for him. When the lad questioned if he had family in the Empire, or a commune, an enclave of sorts, Lorogh turned his head up thoughtfully, "I don't know if many Cadouri made it this way yet, enough for there to form an enclave. But I think that would be most beneficial if they did. To both them and the Empire. Our people are very generous with our talents, and I think Imperial Culture would be a good fit... For the most part. I will confess that most of my kind are pacifists, so not equally suited to the Empire in all things."

Lorogh thought about that quite often, how Saoire would see his enrollment in the Imperial Military. He thought she'd support him, but wasn't entirely sure how she felt personally about her people joining standing armies.

"I hope to bring my family here, sometime, and maybe a few other of my kind. But for now, I'm trying to find my own place in this Empire... Since the Cadouri arrived in Idalos, we've explored and ventured far and wide. I myself have gone as far as Melrath, before coming back to the Eastern Realms."

Lorogh took a pause, and drank deeply of the beer that was laid out for him. Then he began eating in earnest, the chicken dish and the soup bowl set before him.

[Russel Kandor]

Russel laughed in amazement as Lorogh's mind blazed through his field. He could hardly believe the deviations and pathways that the Cadouri's mind traveled down as he explained the engineering concepts further. How one took the topic of a held spring and unfurled it into the possibility of a flying machine, Russel could barely conceive of the connection. He would have been completely loss if not for the erudite's otter ability to simplify such advance subjects in the terms of "spinning bits" and "whirling cogs". The youth was glad that his new acquaintance did not lord his intelligence over him. Since his introduction to researchers studying his condition, Russel had met far too many figures willing to breeze through an explanation and look down their noses at any confusion.

"That is outstanding! Flying m-m-machines!" A broad grin split his lips, a rare enough sight these last dreary trials. "With the way your m-mind w-works, the Empire w-w-won't have any enemies l-left by the t-time my unit takes the f-field. M-maybe I can c-connect you with some m-mages if you ever n-need arcane assistance?" He, for the first time in a cycle, was glad for the conversation. With so many of his waking moments dedicated to tests and regaining mobility in a body that now operated under different rules, Russel had forgotten how enjoyable conversation could be. He decided he was glad to have met Lorogh, that the Cadouri sought him out of the crowd and decided to take some time to get to know him. In many ways, Lorogh reminded him of the elders back on his farming commune. Minds broader than a fresh field of grain, kindness deeper than a rabbit warren.

"Y-yeah, I m-miss it. Haven't been b-back h-home since I joined up." Russel tried not to let the touch of sadness he felt as thought of his family infect his tone.

However, at Lorogh's piqued interest of his curse, the youth realized it was a fool's errand. With most, he would be too ashamed to discuss the subject. There was something about Lorogh that lowered Russel's walls, though, something that made him feel less like an experiment and more like a human. Something reassuring enough that he didn't mind showing his blooms in front of him, and something that told him that he could talk about a subject he usually would prefer dead and buried.

"N-no, I imagine you w-wouldn't of." Russel relented, rolling up his sleeve to expose the divine mark. He winced as the vines shifted underneath direct sunlight, visibly writhing above and below his skin. Thorns sprouted on the exposed flesh, snagging stray threads of clothes and promising to twist the root further through the skin. Like coils of a snake constricting its prey, the plantflesh wriggled and dance in syncopated rhythm. With every flitting movement, tendrils of pain tore through his skin and sent visible tremors through the youth. "It's a c-curse. Ashan's, I'm t-t-told. I g-got it d-during my first t-tour. Burned the w-wrong f-f-forest." One of the vines stretched down, following the curve of scarlet that slipped out of his skin from where he had cut the bloom. It split as it touched the blood, building roots to drink deep. "It's p-p-painful. It's the p-pain that m-m-makes me st-stutter."

It felt, well, strange talking about his curse. Not good, not bad, just strange. He had never really shared much about the mark of Ashan's Hatred with anyone before, only talking about the physical reality of it with intrigued researchers and prodding doctors. He was more ashamed of that physical reality, the stench of death which stalked him in every waking moment, the tremors, the stammering, than he was of earning an Immortal's ire. Though perhaps how it was supposed to be. Make living painful enough, and Russel supposed anyone would turn to an Immortal to take it away. Even the one that caused it in the first place.

Russel tried not to consider how much pain it would take to make him turn.

Dark thoughts needling the back of his mind, the youth willed his attention back to pleasanter matters. Another smile, smaller and weaker than the first, curled the edges of his mouth has Lorogh explained his hopes for his people. Their generosity sounded aspirational, and Russel was sure that they would find a steady friend in the Empire should they ever arrive. "Empires n-need farmers, artists, and b-builders as much as they n-need soldiers. I think w-we'd be lucky to h-have as many C-C-Cadouri as w-wiling to c-come."

However, the youth's eyes widened at Lorogh's mention of his people 'arriving in Idalos'. Russel didn't know much of anything about their race, but he had figured that everyone was 'from Idalos', weren't they? He poked at his food while mulling the question over, the pain and anxiety not doing any favors for his appetite. He waited for a break in-between Lorogh's eating, not particularly sure how to ask what he wanted to know but also too curious to let the query sit idle on his tongue.

"S-sorry, but w-where are your p-people from if n-n-not Idalos?"

[Lorogh]

Russel’s laughter was a nice sign, to Lorogh. At least the lad was loosening up a bit, as time went on.

“Yes, flying machines!” Lorogh said, “It’s all a matter of making things work. By any means available to us. Engineering and science can help us understand these things, and eventually we may understand so many things, that we’re able to touch the moon…” Although that was a bit of a stretch. Was the moon even something one could touch? Or was it more of an incandescent ball of energy? Lorogh didn’t know for his own part.

Still, Lorogh was buoyed by his fellow soldier’s confidence and compliment that his mind would be the doom of the Empire’s enemies. He puffed out his chest proudly, and nodded the affirmative. “Aye, I have many ideas besides those, if you’d like to hear them? One thing seems to drive out another, you know!”

“As for arcane assistance, I am curious how magic can be used to enhance mechanical structures, or at least facilitate faster constructions and such.” Lorogh scratched his chin at the possibilities, but he wasn’t all that educated on the matter of magic and what exactly it could do. “I would like that, though! If only to rub elbows with people who can do magnificent things with little more than their own ether!”

When Lorogh broached the topic of the boy’s strange abnormality, Lorogh frowned in concern, but didn’t ask questions and only let him explain what he was willing to. It was painful, and it was Ashan’s curse. It was that which caused him to stutter. How unfortunate! What a cruel Immortal to have cursed such a nice young soldier. Surely Ashan could’ve regrown the forest, with all his power? Forests burned down all the time, everywhere!

It made Lorogh somewhat angry, but then he supposed it might be turned to some good, If the Mage Corps thought there was a use for the curse in their numbers.

But soon enough, the topic took a turn to that of the Cadouri, with whom the lad wasn’t fully acquainted. “Hmm, yes Cadouri would make a fine fit in the Empire. I may contact Saoire to invite some of her people who are of a mind to migrate. Or perhaps some of my extended family and friends…” Lorogh’s thoughts went distant to the thoughts of Saoire’s Dream, which he’d come from so many arcs ago.

“Oh! We Cadouri were protected by our mother-creator Saoire, kept sequestered from the world for hundreds of arcs in her realm. Saoire’s Dream. Saoire is a nice Immortal, she would never curse anyone.” Lorogh’s thoughts lingered on the idea of curses, and he decided that he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t think someone like Russel deserved to be so cursed.

“Anyway, Saoire’s Dream is a wonderful place, full of golden hills, and cool rivers, wintry forests, and brisk mountainsides. And a lot of turtles, and of course my kind!”

“We arrived several arcs ago, when Saoire decided it was time to give a gift to Idalos.” Lorogh scratched the back of his neck. “Not to say that I think we’re any better than anyone else, but Saoire thought the world needed a little injection of Cadouri craft and magic.”

“We first landed in Scalvoris, and then from there we branched out. I for my part traveled the world before settling here. I’ve been as far as Melrath, which is an interesting place if you’ve a mind to travel ever.” Lorogh got caught up in his own talking, that he realized he hadn’t let the lad get many words in edgewise. “Well, have you traveled very much? I imagine you expected a life of a soldier to be one of travel, as many do.”

[Russel Kandor]

Touch the moon! Russel couldn't help but smile broadly at that, the Cadouri's infectious enthusiasm once again catching him by surprise. Russel wasn't sure he had ever met someone quite as enthused with the prospect of the future as Lorogh. He seemed to barrel past ideas of insecurity, confident enough to carry both himself and any avid listeners, like Russel had become, through the journey of invention that spilled from the engineer's lips.

"I'm-m-m at your d-disposal. C-consider me a c-captive audience!" he smiled in earnest at Lorogh. He was happy to play the audience member to his new friend's performance. While the nuances of the subject were sure to be lost on him, Russel enjoyed the larger concepts. He felt like he had a finger on the pulse the Empire's development, talking to Lorogh. The youth wished he could capture an ounce of the lightning that energized the engineer. If he could, perhaps the next time he ran into his new unit he wouldn't be quite so overwhelmed by their presence.

At Lorogh's further discussion of magic, Russel's eyes drifted back over to his unit. The people whose presence had sent him panicking. Looking at them now, they didn't seem so scary as they once did. Conversing with Lorogh, it lowered his hackles. Made socializing seem easier. Made himself feel like less of a burden to those around him.

Fear, however, was a persistent predator. When Russel discussed his curse, even brief as it was, he felt those same hackles raise back up. Panic quickened his pulse, and his lip quivered with anxiety. He had never really talked about his curse with anyone but doctors before, and even that was an exercise in shame. Eyes cast over to Lorogh, he had no idea how the Cadouri would respond to his admission.

When he saw anger flash across those furry features, it took him aback. Plenty of people had been sorry for Russel before, and he had seen pity plain on many faces of many scientists. But never anger. It felt...good?

Yes, Russel decided. Good. Good that someone saw something other than shame in what had happened to him. Good that someone could grasp the injustice. Russel could feel his own features curl into a scowl as new, hidden feelings bubbled to the surface.

"Th-thank y-you for l-l-listening. I've n-not really h-had a ch-chance to talk about it." He laughed, a little sadly. "N-not v-very good at t-t-talking, even b-before this."

Russel's mood improved as Lorogh shared more about his people. They were a fascinating bunch, born of an Immortal's dream and given to Idalos as a gift. The youth was starting to understand why Saoire considered them a gift. If they were all like Lorogh, they were a great reminder of the joy and wonder that life could hold. Joy that Russel had been sorely missing these last few cycles.

"She s-sounds l-lovely. As d-does your h-home! I h-hope to s-see it one day. And I h-hope m-m-more Cadouri agree with y-your thinking, and j-join us in the Empire."

His eyes widened slightly as Lorogh talked about his travels. He himself had never been beyond the borders of the Empire, so even the mention of Scalvoris and Melrath piqued the youth's curiosity. He had heard little of Scalvoris in his life, and even less of Melrath, but they sounded like wondrous places. "N-no, I h-haven't traveled m-much outside the b-borders of the Empire. B-been all over within t-the Empress' r-realm, though! If y-you haven't seen the V-volcanic R-region, you r-really should. It's a w-wonder to b-behold. B-but no, I d-din't join for the travel."

Russel paused as he thought on the second part of Lorogh's question. What had he expected the life of a soldier to be? Why had he enlisted? It seemed arcs since he joined, but it had really been much more recent than that. A season or two at the most since he signed his enlistment papers. It certainly wasn't for travel, nor for the glory. Russel wasn't so idealistic to think he'd see exotic vistas and be sung about for his efforts in battle. He was a farm boy, born without renown. Most likely would die without it either.

But looking across to his fellow soldier, who had taken time out of the trial to talk a nervous kid down from a panic attack, who willing offered his history, passion, and perspective, and who shared a sense of indignant at the injury done to Russel's soul; it reminded Russel of the reasons he did join. His eyes shot back to the unit he had slipped away from, still chattering excitedly among themselves. One of them caught his eyes, waving happily despite his sudden exit. The motion reminded him of his siblings, waving him off as he walked to war.

His gaze returned to Lorogh, settled and serene. "I joined for the family."

Russel finished the remainder of his meal quickly, a sudden vigor returning to him. Perhaps Lorogh's excitement truly was infectious. Or perhaps Russel was finally finding his pace in both a conversation and in a crowd. He stood, extending a hand out for his new friend to shake.

"I-it's been a p-pleasure ch-chating Lorogh. I'm af-f-fraid I've b-been avoiding m-my unit f-for t-too long. I should p-p-probably get t-to know them a b-bit b-before the day is d-done." He paused, catching the Cadouri's eyes. "Th-thanks again f-for helping me back there, t-talking with you shook m-m-me out of a r-rough state. S-seriously, d-don't be a s-stranger!"

Saying his goodbyes, Russel strode back towards his new unit with a new confidence. If he could make a friend out of a stranger once, than he could certainly do it with this group of mages. The group opened at his approach, waving and chittering excitedly. They grabbed him by his arms, sharing their names with Russel once again. The youth turned back once, shooting Lorogh a final smile and a wave, before finding himself absorbed in new unit. His new family.