Tenth Break, Cylus 29, Arc 720
Scalvoris Town, Scalvoris
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!
It took only a few breaks with the Air Troops for Laures to decide that he was not going to be joining them. By the end of the first trial, he had reconsidered his decision to join the Elements at all, for how badly he did not want to return to their training. He should have known from the name that the work would pertain to… the air, but it had not occurred to him that anyone would go up there. Certainly he did not think it an impossible feat to touch the sky, but it was not something he had ever wished to do himself, and after five trials in training with the Air troops, he’d made up his mind. It was not for him.
Caring for and cleaning up after the strange, enormous beasts used for such ventures in the air had been the least of his concerns. That, at least, he could do without his excitable heart threatening to burst from his chest (but admittedly, he was grateful to have been barred from caring for the rather imposing, winged creature Trooper Mulian had called a Scal Sohr Kahl). What physical training they had done, too, he had managed without issue. A bit of soreness, a few lingering aches, a faint bruise here and there - but after almost thirty trials spent in his new form, he found it easier and easier to control. The physical activity helped settle the soul into the bones, he thought, connecting the two in a way that idle thought could not… and it was good to know exactly how the Elements were taught to defend themselves, should he ever find himself in need of that particular information.
The five trials spent under Trooper Mulian’s guidance were mostly uneventful. Without a flying mount of their own, the two trainees were made to ride along with the other troopers when necessary, and taught to (mostly) control such mounts from the ground. Laures was grateful for the fact that he did not have to control one himself in the air, as he knew already that the panic would easily override whatever training and advice he had managed to retain, but being up there at all was more than enough to dissuade him from ever possibly committing to the Air Elements.
Not to mention it was fucking cold up there, and he could not see a thing in the dark world below, and he would have rather found some kitchen to slave away in than spend another trial in a blue cloak.
The Land Elements proved a somewhat better fit. Though he still had his opinions on the cloaks they were made to wear, he did not find them as immediately offensive, and he was pleased to keep his feet on the ground. Whether he would enjoy the division in the long term, he was not yet sure, but the three trials spent with them thus far had been a far better experience than the previous five. So on the morning of their fourth, Laures had drawn himself from their bed with a bit of a better attitude.
(The shift did not stem entirely from their training, of course, and in fact the majority of it came instead from a lovely night spent studying with Carver, but it allowed him a brighter mindset towards their work all the same.)
Trooper Olev of the Land Elements was perhaps less friendly than Trooper Mulian had been, but he was an improvement over her in terms of getting the job done. After ten arcs spent in service, he knew his way around, and he’d trained more fresh-faced recruits than he could count. An older human with pockmarked cheeks and balding red hair kept hidden beneath his hood, Olev was sturdy, but not strong. He was helpful, but far from approachable, and whether because of the younger man’s somewhat meek demeanor or the silence that trailed him on patrol, he didn’t take much of a liking to Laures.
It was for that reason alone that the former slave did well. While the surly ginger saw fit to give the preferable, more interesting tasks to his husband, Laures thrived under his scrutiny. The accidental harder hits amidst training, the more arduous paths for their patrols, the cleaning and scraping of equipment and cloaks when the trial’s work was done. He put his all into it, and not out of any desire to win the older man’s approval, but to hear him grumble when the blond so eagerly met each and every request.
Wearing his coat and neck kerchief beneath his borrowed brown cloak, Laures watched his breath visualize itself in little clouds before his nose. Arms crossed beneath the layers, he stood stiffly, straight-backed and clearly freezing. Trooper Olev walked ahead of them on the cobbled street that would soon take them out of Scalvoris Town proper, and Laures knew the routine well enough to know that they would circle the outer palisades once they reached them. As with their time with the Air Elements, the three previous trials had not exactly been eventful, outside of regular training. He supposed that Trooper Olev could have passed along the more important (and exciting) duties to the others in his division while he dealt with new recruits… but Laures did not think it the best way to prepare them for action.
He did not walk as closely to his lover as he wanted to, aware of the curious minds of the other two recruits that walked in between them and Trooper Olev. While he did not mind anyone knowing of their relationship, he did not wish to invite any more questions than necessary, nor did he really want any of them to know the details of their personal lives anyway. They were training alongside them, but they were still the enemy, as far as Laures was concerned, and he much preferred the share of information to come from them rather than himself or his soulmate.
They neared three stands along the road, selling various items or produce or something else Laures did not care to look at, but he did take notice of the rightmost stand being left unattended. While the other two were tended by a rather sleepy-looking girl (she appeared to be napping, in fact, while she waited for business) and a vocal young man that called out to anyone that passed, the third’s owner must have left for some sort of break.
A quick glance to the other side of the street, and he saw an older biqaj, pulling things from his cart to presumably bring back to the third stand. Laures uncrossed his arms and reached out to grab Carver’s wrist, slowing them down to allow distance enough between themselves and the other trainees - not enough to fall behind, but to speak without catching attention.
“Patrolling the wall is boring,” complained Laures in a whisper, with a frown on his face - it was a contrast to the mischievous little glint in his gray-blue eyes, and they darted to the side, where the the third stand still stood unattended… the second hardly watchful… and the first in clear desperation.
He looked back to his lover, and only barely managed to suppress the sly smile that wanted so badly to peek through.
“We can’t learn how to stop crime if we don’t ever see any. Such a shame that these merchants feel the need to take from each other, don’t you think?”
Caring for and cleaning up after the strange, enormous beasts used for such ventures in the air had been the least of his concerns. That, at least, he could do without his excitable heart threatening to burst from his chest (but admittedly, he was grateful to have been barred from caring for the rather imposing, winged creature Trooper Mulian had called a Scal Sohr Kahl). What physical training they had done, too, he had managed without issue. A bit of soreness, a few lingering aches, a faint bruise here and there - but after almost thirty trials spent in his new form, he found it easier and easier to control. The physical activity helped settle the soul into the bones, he thought, connecting the two in a way that idle thought could not… and it was good to know exactly how the Elements were taught to defend themselves, should he ever find himself in need of that particular information.
The five trials spent under Trooper Mulian’s guidance were mostly uneventful. Without a flying mount of their own, the two trainees were made to ride along with the other troopers when necessary, and taught to (mostly) control such mounts from the ground. Laures was grateful for the fact that he did not have to control one himself in the air, as he knew already that the panic would easily override whatever training and advice he had managed to retain, but being up there at all was more than enough to dissuade him from ever possibly committing to the Air Elements.
Not to mention it was fucking cold up there, and he could not see a thing in the dark world below, and he would have rather found some kitchen to slave away in than spend another trial in a blue cloak.
The Land Elements proved a somewhat better fit. Though he still had his opinions on the cloaks they were made to wear, he did not find them as immediately offensive, and he was pleased to keep his feet on the ground. Whether he would enjoy the division in the long term, he was not yet sure, but the three trials spent with them thus far had been a far better experience than the previous five. So on the morning of their fourth, Laures had drawn himself from their bed with a bit of a better attitude.
(The shift did not stem entirely from their training, of course, and in fact the majority of it came instead from a lovely night spent studying with Carver, but it allowed him a brighter mindset towards their work all the same.)
Trooper Olev of the Land Elements was perhaps less friendly than Trooper Mulian had been, but he was an improvement over her in terms of getting the job done. After ten arcs spent in service, he knew his way around, and he’d trained more fresh-faced recruits than he could count. An older human with pockmarked cheeks and balding red hair kept hidden beneath his hood, Olev was sturdy, but not strong. He was helpful, but far from approachable, and whether because of the younger man’s somewhat meek demeanor or the silence that trailed him on patrol, he didn’t take much of a liking to Laures.
It was for that reason alone that the former slave did well. While the surly ginger saw fit to give the preferable, more interesting tasks to his husband, Laures thrived under his scrutiny. The accidental harder hits amidst training, the more arduous paths for their patrols, the cleaning and scraping of equipment and cloaks when the trial’s work was done. He put his all into it, and not out of any desire to win the older man’s approval, but to hear him grumble when the blond so eagerly met each and every request.
Wearing his coat and neck kerchief beneath his borrowed brown cloak, Laures watched his breath visualize itself in little clouds before his nose. Arms crossed beneath the layers, he stood stiffly, straight-backed and clearly freezing. Trooper Olev walked ahead of them on the cobbled street that would soon take them out of Scalvoris Town proper, and Laures knew the routine well enough to know that they would circle the outer palisades once they reached them. As with their time with the Air Elements, the three previous trials had not exactly been eventful, outside of regular training. He supposed that Trooper Olev could have passed along the more important (and exciting) duties to the others in his division while he dealt with new recruits… but Laures did not think it the best way to prepare them for action.
He did not walk as closely to his lover as he wanted to, aware of the curious minds of the other two recruits that walked in between them and Trooper Olev. While he did not mind anyone knowing of their relationship, he did not wish to invite any more questions than necessary, nor did he really want any of them to know the details of their personal lives anyway. They were training alongside them, but they were still the enemy, as far as Laures was concerned, and he much preferred the share of information to come from them rather than himself or his soulmate.
They neared three stands along the road, selling various items or produce or something else Laures did not care to look at, but he did take notice of the rightmost stand being left unattended. While the other two were tended by a rather sleepy-looking girl (she appeared to be napping, in fact, while she waited for business) and a vocal young man that called out to anyone that passed, the third’s owner must have left for some sort of break.
A quick glance to the other side of the street, and he saw an older biqaj, pulling things from his cart to presumably bring back to the third stand. Laures uncrossed his arms and reached out to grab Carver’s wrist, slowing them down to allow distance enough between themselves and the other trainees - not enough to fall behind, but to speak without catching attention.
“Patrolling the wall is boring,” complained Laures in a whisper, with a frown on his face - it was a contrast to the mischievous little glint in his gray-blue eyes, and they darted to the side, where the the third stand still stood unattended… the second hardly watchful… and the first in clear desperation.
He looked back to his lover, and only barely managed to suppress the sly smile that wanted so badly to peek through.
“We can’t learn how to stop crime if we don’t ever see any. Such a shame that these merchants feel the need to take from each other, don’t you think?”
