The Morningstar Brigade

Chapter 10

X

DAKEN

175 A.E.F.

Morningstar Keep, Center of Eden

"Daken, are you in there?" a young man clad in impeccably assembled Brigade garb called as he rapped his knuckles on the small wooden door at the end of the hallway.

"I'm very busy, Jonathan. Important Brigade business. We'll just have to settle our tiddlywinks championship match another time. Toss whatever formal censure Vigilant asked you to pass along to me underneath the door," Daken yelled back, chuckling at his own humor from inside the room. "Oh, and pal? Since the top brass seem to actually listen to you because you're 'respectful' and 'pleasant to be around,'" the sarcasm dripping off Daken's words as he playfully jabbed at his friend, "do me a favor. Next time you see the Accuser, let him know that the informants he's had tailing me are about as subtle as a sledgehammer. If he wants to find out the exact color of underwear I'm wearing this morning, tell him that he can shove this little inquisition into me he's got going on right up his-"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. He reached for the door and tried the handle, but it was locked. "That's not why I'm here. Come on Daken, open up. I'm not messing around," he insisted, banging on the door once again.

From dress to demeanor, Jonathan was the ideal Brigade Shepherd. He wore the standard issue black uniform with pride, every corner neatly pressed into place and every wrinkle delicately ironed out. The white of his star-cut clerical collar was without a single smudge or stain and his midnight trenchcoat hung comfortably over his athletic, well-built frame. His brown hair was grown out a bit longer than the default crew cut worn by most members of the Brigade, but it was carefully combed to the side with an authoritative flair. He carried himself with the honor of a warrior far outstripping his modest rank, but he never attempted to stand above his peers. His light green eyes shone with a friendly light, always welcoming conversation and a shared laugh. His jaw was broad and defined, yet softened by the ever-present smile resting just behind his lips.

There was a short pause while Daken fumbled for a response. "Would you go away if I said I'm naked?" Daken attempted.

Jonathan groaned. Usually, he had patience for Daken's antics. He was one of the only members of the Brigade who did, which Daken quietly appreciated. Today, however, his ever-difficult comrade's attempts at witty repartee were getting in the way of Brigade business. "You know, it's really scary that I almost believe that could be true," he muttered as pulled out two small paperclips and began to jimmy the lock.

"Wait, wait!" Daken said frantically as Jonathan's makeshift lock pick began to clink in the door. "What if I said I've got a girl in here with me?"

"Ha!" Jonathan laughed as he continued to work on the lock.

"Well, you don't have to be so smug about it," Daken grumbled. "How about if I told you I'm deathly ill?" he offered.

"Stop being such a pain, this is the third time I've had to break into your room this month. Why can't you just answer the door like a normal person? Friends don't make friends learn how to lockpick," Jonathan retorted, clicking another pin into place.

Daken sighed. "But that takes all the fun out of it. And if I just opened the door when people asked, I might actually have to have polite conversations now and then," he answered with a shudder. "Besides, it's part of my roguish charm," he added. "It helps us bond. And it gives you the opportunity to practice a valuable skill."