Nighttime in the Barracks

10 Gozran, 4711

Zaistrun lay in the barracks on a cot of a man who had been rather dirty. He used a cantrip to clean it before he lay down, but the image of the whole operation still clung in his mind. There had been casualties. Now accidents happen in every profession, and this noble knew it all too well. The first time that they lost a miner that he knew he went home and cried for hours. Sure he was still fairly young at the time, but somehow people didn't seem to understand how much he actually cared. It worked so well for them just to be afraid of him.

When people feared you, the smallest kindness seemed like a gift from heaven, a supernatural boon provided from above. He saw how nobles who were effective in their commands used it on troops. His own brother was severely strict with his troops and they loved him for it because they saw how much they improved under his exacting requirements. The miners grew to respect their young commander because he commanded their respect with his work ethic and moral fortitude, not to mention the increase in their profit margins. When things worked well, everyone prospers, and that was what Zaistrun wanted more than anything. He wanted everyone to do well and to be successful. He didn't care if no one liked him. Well, that wasn't entirely true.

He turned his head lazily to the west where the curtain lay giving space between where he was and where the King's Sister lay. Even though they spent nights laying but a few feet apart and when he was awake for watch he often just listened to her breathing slowly and regularly. She was quiet now, which meant she was still awake. It's likely that she was feeling uncomfortable because Paido wasn't there. He had left a little while ago, presumably to look after the king, and had left the two of them alone, in this small structure. In court, it would almost certainly be scandalous. Out here, he was the envy of every miner in the entire camp. If Paido didn't come back from his patrol, he might think about sleeping on the ground outside, to avoid the impropriety. The last thing he would want to do is besmirch her name.

Everything else in his life had clarity, other than her. His mother was a villain, his father a defeated saint. His brothers were too occupied or foolish to see what needed to be done and everyone resented him because he tried to do what was right regardless of the cost. Except the peasantry. They liked him just fine. His students adored him, Paido and he had a good relationship, he was hailed and respected by almost everyone in the kingdom. Except for Medvyeds. Thad seemed to view him as some necessary evil and treated the Kobolds with more kindess and respect than his own Magister. Sarala treated everyone with kindness and deference that she knew well, only the sorcerer excepted. He had heard them relate him to their older brother, Cor, who tried to marry off Sarala for political gain. He didn't see the correlation, maybe they looked similar? He didn't remember what he looked like. But despite all of this, whenever they were in the same room, Zaistrun was always looking for Sarala.

It was probably her hair that interested him in the first place, whenever they marched into a building or a cave, he often watched how her platinum hair flowed and wafted in the breeze and how it accentuated her thinness. But it was more than that. Her fiery resolve, that look on that face when she was wrong but won't admit it, her playfulness that he actually envied. Her laughter. Zaistrun couldn't remember the last time that he laughed like she seemed to do without effort.

Often he drifted off to sleep thinking about that serious look she got on her face when she was trying to puzzle out if someone was lying to her. He really had a problem, but since he kept it to himself it was at least something that wasn't anyone else's burden. Or maybe it was. He stared at the curtain, imagining the tension in the room, thick like smoke choking him, making him want to leave or blast a hole in the wall to air out the room.

In town it was useful to be busy, but out on patrol, it made his heart beat irregularly and made his tongue swell up in his mouth. He could speak all day, drilling students in their educational pursuits but he couldn't say much to the ice queen on the other side of the partition. He was beginning to believe that his interest in her was merely a delusion and a horrendous mistake, and at the same time the greatest mistake he had ever made. He remembered the dance, and though his arms were around her, her eyes were everywhere else. He couldn't read her mind, and she wasn't in the habit of telling anyone what she thought except maybe her brother, and maybe not even then.

But it wasn't as if he had told her how he felt either...

He let out a long sigh, glared at the door and longed for Paido to come back to break the tension. "Hells!" He muttered. "Where in the hells is that Paido." He got up out of his cot and walked across the floor to the front door and opened it, peering into the dark night to no avail. He propped the door open and the night air flowed past him and ruffled the curtain. At least she would retain her privacy and he wouldn't have to sleep completely at the mercy of the elements, also anyone coming by can see there is no impropriety in here. He flopped down on the cot and threw the blanket over him in an attempt to fall into a fitful sleep.

Sarala was almost asleep when she felt it. A sudden rush of cool air drafting through the barracks. She rolled over hoping it was just some strange sleep deprived hallucination. The breeze persisted, pushing the rough, stiff material the miners had used in an attempt to separate the barracks into two rooms. As she lay there listening to the partition flap and scrap across the ground she made mental note to add the breeze to her list of why this day was ending badly.

First there was the smell of the barracks. Sarala was sure the miners had meant well when they had given up their sleeping quarters to the nobles. It wouldn't be fitting for the king's retinue to sleep under the stars when the miners had a roof over their heads. But would it kill them to clean their barracks? By stench alone Sarala was pretty sure it was beyond cleaning now and it should just be set ablaze.

On top of that, she had been reduced sleeping in the same room as Zaistrun. Sharing the room was really the issue. The issue was that he was there and Thad wasn't. Normally the sylph would have her brother as some sort of a buffer when she was around the sorcerer but not so on this night. No, she realized the issue went further than that. She had been trying to ignore it but this close proximity only served to force the frustrating thoughts back into her head. There was something about Zaistrun that she couldn't shake. He was constantly under her skin and she didn't really know why. Apparently he liked her, or so her brother said, but he had never said a word to her about it. She was used to flirtatious behavior and even outright adoration, and had been able to dismiss them all at a whim. Why not this man? With Zaistrun, Sarala felt like she never knew where she stood and it through her into undeniable confusion. And she didn't know what to do about it. This made list item number two.

Then there was the fact that Paido in his best effort to guard his king had left her alone with the narrowly post pubescent sorcerer. Item three.

And she couldn't sleep. Four.

And now there was a draft and it was cold. Why did this unwelcome breeze exist?

She sat up and groggly rubbed her eyes. Peering in the direction of the offending wind she noted that someone had left the door open on the other side of the partition. It couldn't have been Paido, he wasn't that careless. And the miners had left them to sleep in peace long ago. So it could be the fault of one other person.

"Good gods, Zaistrun," she grumbled in his general direction. "Close the door! What is so wrong with sleeping where the elements can't attack us? If you want fresh air then sleep outside, but for heaven's sake, shut that door! Some of us would like to sleep!"

He rolled over on his bunk and addressed the curtain. "Propriety is important, M'lady." Zaistrun said a bit more condescending then he intended. "I need no fresh air, I've worked in mines before. With the absence of a chaperone, it is proper to maintain an open door so that any passerby can see there is nothing going on in here that would sully the reputation of the king's sister. Rumors are ugly things, and it's better to avoid them when possible."

He let her mull over that for a moment before adding "And please, I've seen you rest comfortably in just your bedroll in the dead of winter and sleep in a tree in colder weather than this with a thinner blanket. If you want to lodge a complaint, pick one with some aspect of validity."

He rolled back over onto his opposite shoulder on the cot when a thought struck him. Maybe she was being playful like she was with her brother sometimes. Well, he certainly gave her an opening. If she was stirred enough, she would respond. What should he do next? Perhaps a good-natured insult? Sure it might backfire, but it was sure better than this silent war they had going on now.

Was Zaistrun really going to harp on what is and isn't proper as if she didn't know? Irritated, Sarala sat up knowing that she wouldn't be getting to sleep anytime soon.

"Really? Do you really think I need to be educated on the propriety of the situation? I wasn't born in a barn, Zaistrun, I'm not an idiot. If you couldn't tell, I was trying to sleep before you so wisely opened the door. Now I can hear every crinkle and flap in that poor excuse for a fabric wall and it's grating on my nerves.

"So if you don't shut the bloody door, then I will come over there and do it myself!"

"The only poor excuses in this room are the ones you are using to pick a fight with me." he said blankly. He sat up on his cot and addressed the maligned tarp. "I informed you about the propriety not because you are ignorant but because you are not applying your knowledge to the situation at hand. Put it out of your mind as you are very capable of doing and gain the rest you claim to desire or tell me what you are actually upset about. I'm not good at playing games."

His pulse had quickened during his little speech as it was the most they had spoken to each other in months. Being ignored was much worse than being maligned. He would have to take steps to not allow it to happen in the future.

His every word stirred Sarala's ire until the frustration raged inside of her. It was very possible that he was baiting her anger but she was past caring at this point. If he wanted a fight (and he had just told as much) than a fight is what she would give him.

She stormed past the canvas partition, jerking it none to gently aside as she stomped over and slammed the door. Whirling around in the darkness she stared hard at Zaistrun, her eyes turning into narrow slits. As she crossed the space between the doorway and his bed with slow, deliberate steps she started speaking in hushed and biting tones.

"You arrogant son of a... You think you know everything, don't you? Up there on your high horse. Your nose is stuck up so far in the sky I'm surprised you can see what's in front of you. You think your mental processes are far more superior than anyone else, don't you smarty pants.

"So, I'm not applying the knowledge to the situation at hand, am I? Let me tell you something, buster. I. Don't. Care. About. Propriety! Not now, not in this fetid, festering stink hole! You were the last person I wanted to bunk with and I would have camped outside had it not been for the miner's generosity.

"I thought that because of their kindness, I could bare it for just one night, just to show my appreciation for the deference they have shown. And I was doing good, I had almost managed to put it out of my mind and fall asleep, no thanks to you. You were tossing and turning like a mad man! I don't envy the woman you end up marrying. She'll have to tie you to the bed just to get a peaceful night's rest!"

She had reached his bed by this point and was leaning in to spit the words straight into his ears.

"But you had to go and open that blasted door! And you say it was for propriety's sake. Well if you had been so concerned about propriety than why didn't you stop Paido from leaving earlier? You were still awake then. Do you know how I know? Because you were making enough noise to wake the dead!

"You want to know what upsets me? You really want to know? You upset me, Zaistrun! You are rude and arrogant and dull. You think you're better than everyone else, including my brother. And you broadcast your loftiness by the way you treat people, as if their all pawns in your little game. You couldn't be more wrong, Zaistrun. Sir Paido, whom you deem so lowly, so beneath you, is a far better man than you'll ever be!"

Sarala straightened up to catch her breath. She could feel the blood rushing to her head and it was beginning to make her dizzy. Giving herself a moments pause she retreated to sit on the bed next to his. This one smelled so foul that she almost gagged. Once she could breath she started in again on the sorcerer, only in a slightly more subdued voice.

"I don't think you could be nice if you tried. You're too cold, closed off, and proud..." she shook her head as a thought crossed her mind.

"It really is funny that you claim you don't do games," she gave a hallow laugh. "Because I think you can play games quite well as long as they are to your liking.

"See, I know about your little crush Zaistrun. I know you like me, or at least, you did once. I don't know what kind of twisted little game you are trying to play, or what is going on in your head but I want you to know, I am not some toy girl for you to play with in your head or spin your little fantasies off of. You got that?"

Slowly she stood to her feet and walked back to the door as the exhaustion caught up with her. "So unless you have something else of consequence to say, then I'll leave you to it and find a more comfortable place to sleep."

The sorcerer stood, filling the room with presence. Despite the display of raw, crass emotion coming from the lady in the room, he responded with a greater display of ice and glacial rivers as he moved toward her ebbing like water colder than ice and the door now shut made it impossible for the atmosphere to be broken up by nature. At that point it seemed more like a cave or a tomb than a wooden building. He walked her way step by step with a confidence that she had seen feral monsters wet themselves when he gave them as much of a glance.

Then he opened the door and the whole atmosphere changed. It was simply a nice early summer night, with a light breeze and a gentle moon. "Thank you for the conversation. It is not pleasant to be ignored. Derision, that is easier to take." For a moment he lingered and stood next to her in the doorway, drinking in her presence. Then he turned around and walked back to his bed to lay upon it, but stopped short and turned around again to see her silhouette in the doorway as her hair drifted in the slight disturbance of the wind.

"I don't play games. I am completely serious. I do apologize if I have failed in my attempts to show you deference and respect. I will attempt to do better. I thought you would be more perceptive with me because you show so much capability in perceiving others." He sat down on the cot, feeling exhausted as well. He then lifted his feet in and drew a blanket over him. He said his next statement quietly, almost under his breath. "It is now obvious to me that you have no idea who I am."

Sarala stiffened as Zaistrun overtook her in the doorway, opening the door before she could even reach the latch. In his lingering presence she felt something that she wasn't sure how to explain. Normally, when she was around Zaistrun the only things she could sense about him were his pride and confidence. Otherwise he showed the emotion of a rock. Even when they had danced together in Restov he had been completely stiff and devoid of all feeling. But now, in this brief moment, something was different. What was it? A slight warmth of emotion perhaps? She tried to look into his face to see if she could read anything there but he was already turning away.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she had just imagined it. This was Zaistrun, after all, the unmovable ice mountain. If there was any warmth in him he would surely crack. What she had felt just then must have simply been a trick of the wind.

His little speech annoyed her. His attempt to fix the situation with an apology wasn't what she was looking for. As he promised some sort of change in his attitude toward her she couldn't help but doubt that it would fix the situation. How much could he change anyway? Zaistrun was just too static, too proud to change, she thought.

His whispered words surprised her. Of course she didn't know who he was. If she had been in a better mood she may have laughed in his face. He was reclusive, tight lipped and stony. Not exactly the most forthcoming individual. So how in the world was she supposed to know who he was. And he acted like this was news to him. For one so smart he could really be dumb.

Sarala shook her head. "You have no idea." she whispered, than turning her back on the object of her frustration she walked out of the barracks. "Enjoy the bed bugs," she called sarcastically over her shoulder.

Her mind was so distracted as she neared the quarters where her brother slept that she forgot to look around for the halfling bodyguard. She probably wouldn't have found him even if she had tried. He was around somewhere, waiting, watching, quietly in the shadows. It was possible that her appearance would concern Paido but she knew that he was too polite to say anything. He would continue to watch and wait, on guard lest any danger come near.

Sarala knocked quietly on the door before opening it. She hoped this shack would smell slightly better than the barracks had. Leaning her tired head on the door frame she spoke into the room, projecting as loudly as she dared.

"Hey Thad? It's Sara. Can I come in?"

It had been a fitful night for Thaddeus. This mine disturbed him, though he found it difficult to pinpoint exactly why. He had debated with himself the wisdom in opening the mine in the first place. The dangers of the goo and the properties of the metal were ever on his mind, but in the end the virtue outweighed the danger. The metal was rolling in with greater frequency and so was the money. This Siccatite was profitable for his kingdom... and with Wynn's ideas that other knew it's location, leaving it as a secret simply seemed a lost foolish cause.

Now he's found that despite the signs that all was well here, there had been casualties. Miners using inadequate protection wasting away from the poisonous goo. That knowledge alone would have made for a restless night, but there was more. The knowledge that whatever evil, unnatural thing that had occurred on these lands still affected it. The lack of birds, game or any wildlife was disconcerting to say the least.

Not to mention he was separate from his familiar group, surrounded by the miners who dealt with the strange alien mind controlling mine...

Whatever the base cause of the uneasiness, he wore his studded leather pajamas and slept with his sword close at hand. After several hours he finally fell into a light sleep.

Only to be awoken by his little sister.

Instinct had him sitting up in his bed with his sword in hand before he realized he'd even grasped it.

"Sara?!" he asked in confusion as the world settled back in place. "What's wrong?" A dozen scenarios of trolls, space lions, and enchanted living morningstars all danced through his mind as he flung open the door.

"Whoa there, Swordboy, watch where you're pointing that thing!" Sarala grimaced as she gingerly pushed the steel blade away from her person. "Contrary to popular belief, no, I am not your worst nightmare.

"And no, we aren't in any sort of peril either. Nothing is bent on doing me harm. Well, not bodily harm, anyway... Are you going to let me in or am I supposed to stand here all night?"

Letting his guard down Thaddeus chuckled as he made room for her to come in. She read the curiosity in his eyes as he watched her enter the room. She was sure he wanted to know why she was on his door step instead of sleeping peacefully in the barracks. The only problem was she wasn't sure how to explain this one. Should she lead with 'Zaistrun is a pig!' or 'Zaistrun is an idiot!' or the ever popular 'I hate that sorcerer's guts!'? None of these statements were completely true so she couldn't really justify using any of them.

Sarala took a quick glance around the one room building as she muddled through what she was going to say that would aptly explain her visit. It wasn't much, a bed, a chair and a desk were the main features of the sparse cabin. Tools she assumed were used for mining hung neatly along one wall and a rough wooden chest stood at the foot of the bed. She was relieved to discover that the room lacked the scent of stale sweat that had pervaded the interior of the barracks. One thing was for sure, this place was kept clean and in order. It was unfortunate that there wasn't another bed but she would have to make do. Wasting no time she obtained a winter cloak from the chest along with a small bundle of sundry clothes items that wrapped together into a hastily made pillow.

"I know you're wondering why I'm here," she sighed as she arranged herself in the chair, kicking her feet up onto the desk in front of it. "And that's a good question. Lets just say my sleeping arrangement didn't quite... suit. Do you mind if I bunk with you tonight?"

"Oh?" Thaddeus said with a question of disbelief and annoyance. He suspected there was more to the story, and he hoped she'd spare no details.

"How 'unsuitable' is it? I've seen you sleep in pretty inhospitable places... Is this something bad enough that Zaistrun is going to berate the locals about?"

He leaned out the door, but heard no shouting going on. That was a good sign. He still wasn't used to the idea of such deferential treatment. The idea that people gave up their beds at the mere sight of his entourage was... new. He didn't want to abuse such respect.

He raised his eyebrow in silent question, while his words simply stated, "Of course you can bunk here if you wish."

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you." Sarala heaved a sigh of relief. The tension of her earlier confrontation still sat in knots between her shoulders. She tried to adjust her position into a more comfortable one but it was no use. There was only one thing she could think of that would help to ease her agitation.

"No, I don't think you have to worry about Zaistrun complaining about anything. Not in the way your thinking." she motioned to the open door. "I doubt he'd be the one to 'berate the locals'. He much to miserable and demeaning for that kind of behavior. He's much more inclined to point out the specifics of a person's wrong doings so that he can flaunt his own superiority! I just can't..." she gritted her teeth as if to bite back the rushing onslaught of bitter words.

"He's just so frustrating, Thad! I just don't know what to do with him!" she gave her brother a pleading look as exasperated hands gesticulated toward the barracks. "It's like he expects the world to be in awe at the whisper of his name and then he acts like he doesn't understand why I have a problem with him. I just don't get it. Is he that blind?

"And ever since that stupid dance in Restov I've gotten this feeling that he expects me to be something for him, someone to him, someone special. I don't know what to do about it! I tried ignoring him, and that doesn't work. I tried confronting him about it, just tonight even, and he didn't even deign to address the topic. He never addresses the topic. It's like he expects me to fall in love with him with out his ever uttering a word to me. He has never said a word to me about his feelings. Never a word. I don't even know if they are still there. All I know is that I still feel this pressure when I'm around him... this blasted expectation. You'd think he would have been taught how to treat a lady being that he was born in a noble house, but I guess he skipped that part of his training. You know, I got a better wooing from that slavering Dominic Surtova than I am from him."

Sarala rubbed her thumb back and forth over the armrest of the chair she was sitting in, silently letting her mind wander for a minute. When she spoke again her voice was subdued.

"He wouldn't be so bad, Thad... you know, he wouldn't be so bad if... if he were just a touch friendlier. Don't you think? If he talked to people about more than just the business at hand. It's not like he's all that bad, in the long run, it's just that he's made himself so blasted unattainable, like some kind of rock at the top of a mountain.

"I know it sounds bad but I almost wish he would fall and crack. I don't know what exactly is inside that man, but I get the feeling that is the only way I will ever find out."

Thaddeus listened intently as she rambled on and vented about the magister. It took some effort to follow, as the young king had been dead asleep only moments ago. He could feel a steady throbbing starting behind his eyes and remembered with longing when he used to get woken up for random owlbear attacks.

"Sarala... stop." He shook his head in frustration. "This really isn't the time or the place for infighting. We could come across Hargulka's kingdom any day now, and I'd rather him not hear you two arguing two miles away.

"Zaistrun has his faults, I won't begin to deny that. However, he's a good man. He's saved your life and dragged you out of danger when I couldn't and I am grateful to him for that. He's done right by me and the kingdom so far.

He sighed and he almost chuckled at her description of the man. They really did seem to get on each other nerves... more then they should. He chose his next words carefully.

"He is arrogant... but he's also young. As are you. All of us have had more responsibility placed on our shoulders then we've been prepared for. The Magister of a kingdom does deserve respect, and it doesn't do any good for anyone, especially the king's sister, to degrade him in public.

"Right here... Right now? I need all four of us working together. We have common enemies that would love to hear us tearing each other apart. Try to get along, at least till we get back to Akiros.

"As for any wooing.... Is this something that you need me to take care of? I'll have a word with Zaistrun and tell him to back off, if that's what you want. I'm sure big brother can put a stop to this," he said with a grin. "Or would you rather I tell him to step things up a bit."