Songs of Souls

022: Reasoning, Presence and Passion

- - - > oxx • xxo < - - -

The shiver went deeper than bone this time, past the cold that had sunk into him these last days and clawed for something more. The fort throbbed beneath Gwardus' feet, each vibration a beat mirroring the fear in his gut. The infirmary's quiet pull was almost enough. Almost. But the courtyard pulsed with a desperate energy – the crash of hammers against steel a jarring accompaniment. Each sound stoked a fire in his belly, mirroring the fort's own desperate preparations.

He pushed through the infirmary doors, the world outside falling away with a heavy thud. He drew a breath, the air clean, the scent of herbs a sharp contrast to the metallic tang that clung to the courtyard. A wave of quiet settled over the room as he entered. The girl rested in the corner, out of sight but not out of mind. He tried a smile for the three recruits, their faces drawn, eyes already holding too much. They stared intently at something beyond him, gazes locked on the heart of the fort. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Whatever they feared, he feared it too. But beneath that fear, another current ran – a storm, sleeping for now.

- - - > oxx Z•L xxo < - - -

From his perch, Zevas watched the lads scramble below, their elemenium tools whining with their energies' hum. Overhead, stone slabs float, plugging the gaps the Miers could exploit. Each clang of hammer on stone echoed with urgency, pushing them to work faster. "Not enough, not nearly enough," he muttered, his gaze sweeping over the hasty repairs.

The door creaked open, a screech of metal on metal. A draft of cooler air swirled around his legs, carrying the scent of the smoke and something else... something that set him on edge.

He turned. Dofydd, sitting across the room, caught his eye and gave a single nod - sharp, to the point. Beside him, Siebea grunted, her grip tightening on her dagger. He hid a smile. Leave it to the owlet to be ready for trouble before it even walked in the door.

In walked Pythair's lads. Deynfif entered with his usual calm, a stark difference next to Einntyr, who looked about ready to burst out of his skin. But it was Hirua who really caught his eye. The lad usually burned bright, but now... Shoulders slumped, gaze downcast. Something was off. He took a long pull of his lichtwyrt blue tea, savoring the sweet, citrusy warmth. Aye, time to see what this was all about.

He rumbled, "Alright lads, share us what happened. I wanna hear it from you personally."

"Captain, we were compromised–" Deynfif was in the middle of his report when Einntyr interrupted him.

Einntyr's words tumbling out in a rush. "Imperial shadows, Captain! Right from the start! But did they think I wouldn't notice?" He leaped up, a dramatic sniff of the air. "Please! More obvious than a muckledeor in a flower field." A slap on Hirua's back punctuated the joke. "Or maybe I'm just that good, eh?"

His chuckle died in his throat. Einntyr's energy was a double-edged sword – infectious, but right now, a dangerous distraction.

Hirua's mouth twisted, a poor attempt at hiding the eye roll. "Seems your spy skills are about as subtle as a bowl of chili on a hot day, Einntyr. Didn't take long for them to sniff you out, did it?" Hirua's forced smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Einntyr shot outta his chair, flailing about like a scarecrow in a windstorm. "Hah! Thought I didn't notice those shadows, did they? Nah, I was just givin' 'em a show, a big ol' distraction! Let you two slip in unnoticed." He slapped his knee, a big goofy grin plastered on his face.

Deynfif, ever the strategist, added, "If we lingered too long, Captain, they might have made a move. An early withdrawal was necessary."

Einntyr's usual bravado faltered for a moment there.