[center][color=red]Sareffi-Astra Royal Palace, the City of Cero, T'Sarae[/color][/center][hr] Ragnar rested his hand on Astraea's lower back as they walked through the open threshold and out into the empty balcony. He felt silly trying to steady her as she stepped unevenly on the decorated tiles-- After all, Astraea was a R'heon, a hunter of demons. But like him, she was young and scarcely removed from the shadows of the Seminary. Ragnar wagered they were all inexperienced when it came to drinking, and he was worried she might have overdone it. "Careful," he urged her nervously. She shot an incredulous look at him, equal parts threatening and bemused. "You are not my milkmaid, Ragnar," she warned him with a dangerous smile. He grinned in response and brushed a hand over his shaved scalp, a nervous habit of his. Behind him, the three wolf pups sat on their haunches watching Astraea intently. They were always nuzzling up against his legs or playing with each other. Ragnar found their silence unnerving. Astraea leaned against the balcony's edge, gazing out at the abandoned royal gardens sprawling out beneath her. Ragnar joined her, gripping the stone railing of the balcony with pale, trembling fingers. The gardens were like something out of a dream. He had never seen so much green before, so much "nature". A hedge maze extended outward to the edge of a high cliff and past it Ragnar and Astraea were afforded an unobstructed view of the eastern sea and the frontier that awaited them. Out there the frozen water appeared like a black mirror, reflecting the aurora of celestial light cast off from the crystal aegis that hung over the city. Above them, the night sky was awash with stars. The beauty of it was paralyzing. That such a place could exist in this world, it made Ragnar's heart ache with sadness and spite. This world didn't deserve such beauty, he thought to himself. A loud boom came from somewhere far to the east. It was so loud and resonant that the Protector could feel it crash against his chest. As the ringing in his ears began to subside, he caught sight of it; a flash of piercing violet light shining from beyond the swirling mist that curtained the eastern horizon. Aethereal lightning. Antonin had explained it to them along ago. Great manifestations of chaotic ether with the capacity to gouge impossible mile-long craters into the ice. The fact that they could see and hear it from this far away made Ragnar's heart weak. Astraea on the other hand, was grinning. "Incredible," she whispered. The lighting strike had seemingly sobered her up, for her emerald eyes were now alight with determination. With all he could, Ragnar tried to avert his gaze. He could not face it. The waiting storms, that darkness to the east where the countless stars in the T'saraen sky seemed to suddenly vanish. His skin turning cold, he gripped the frigid stone railing tightly, trying to find some impossible warmth in whatever he could. [i]This was a mistake[/i]. The words echoed in his mind as his heart began to race. They were not ready for this. Warband Phoenix was just a few months removed from Culmination. They were being rushed out into the thick of things. And the Karamzina... It was meant to be Mother Indira's... Now it was theirs... Was something wrong with it? Creid, Antonin, Indira... They seemed caught unawares by their assignment to join the invasion armada... The three of them were the very best teachers in all the empire, those who would shape the future of the inquisition... Why send them?... Why was everything happening so suddenly? Were Warband Phoenix being sent out out to die? Was *he* being sent out to die? [i]Varya sees. Varya hears. Varya knows. [/i] Did the Ravenous Lord know... ... about him and his myriad sins? The paling within him cracked, and out began to seep the hidden things. Father Ragnar, protector of Warband Phoenix, began to choke. A firm hand gripped his shoulder. A distant voice called out to him. Ragnar stood silent, breathing as fast as possible. A thousand tragedies unfolded in his mind. All of them would be his fault. All of them his punishment. "Ragnar," the voice repeated, this time loud enough that it seemed to pull him from the darkness. He seemed to jolt awake then, and when he turned to face Astraea she looked down on him with what appeared to be annoyance. "Get it together," she told him. Ragnar took a deep breath, and found that he couldn't. His lungs seemed to be made from stone. But he stood straight as an arrow all the same, trying to emulate Stina's resolute insistence on standing proud after the Great Bear's cruel attacks on the training yard. Like he always did, the young Muraadan forced the troubles within him deep into the darkness, and attempted to smile. "I'll be alright. I've just..." "Whatever it is you're going through, you need to conquer it," she said before he could finish. It was spoken without emotion, as if it was an order she would give a soldier out on the field. As if it wasn't something he hadn't been fighting his entire life. "I'm fine," he said, the smile on his face as genuine as he could make it. "It's just... I'm a bit worried. It's our first mission, after all." Astraea regarded him with a curious look before turning away and looking down at the garden, where Ziotea and Rodion had just emerged from one of the entrances of the hedge maze. "You're our Protector. We need you to be resolute and calm. If you lose it out there, even for just a second, people will die. The paling needs to hold." "It will hold," Ragnar responded, trying to sound casual and non-plussed about it. He looked down at Ziotea and her companion, who was pointing outward at the horizon, where the flash had colored a small patch of sky. "After all, can't let anything happen to Rodion," he added with a light smile, glancing at Ziotea. Astraea chuckled. It was strange hearing her laugh, Ragnar realized. She had always been so stern and aloof, and could be downright standoffish if the mood took her. She and Tatiana had gone through their fair share of arguments and scrapes growing up. Maybe the R'heon was still a bit drunk, he wondered. Astraea's laughter trailed off into silent contemplation. "Those poor fools," Astraea said, a mixture of sadness and pity in her tone. Down below, the two of them were standing together, watching the frozen sea in silence. Ragnar understood the sentiment, but winced at the R'heon's wording. Noticing this, Astraea glared at him. "You're close to both of them. You know what it will lead to. He will only be hurt, and she will only grow more hateful. If you truly cared for them, you'd try to do everything in your power to stop it." He had never been comfortable with Ziotea and Rodion's relationship, that much was true, but he could never get in their way. Ziotea was angry most of the time, and he didn't blame her. Ziotea didn't deserve the life she was given and she didn't belong in the seminary. She was like the wind, sometimes calm, sometimes destructive, but she was meant to be free all the same. And Rodion... Well, it seemed like all things in this world were lightless and dead to him, except for her. "They... They belong with each other. And they aren't stupid. They know what they're doing," Ragnar said, trying to convince himself as much as he was Astraea. "The Church will see through whatever facade those two put up. Neither of them are native Varyan. They'll force them, Ragnar. Force them into having a child... and then that child will suffer the same as we did--" "I believe in them, and so should you. They deserve to be happy," Ragnar interrupted, trying desperately to not think of such a future. Astraea stood quietly, swirling the bottle of virrika around. She began to raise it to her lips, but thought better of it and placed it on the railing. Sensing his chance, Ragnar tried to change the subject. "So... What about you? Are you seeing anyone?" Astraea scrutinized him for a moment, her expression stone-like. A moment passed before a bemused smile cut across her face. "A few individuals, but nothing serious." Ragnar couldn't help but be surprised. "A few? Hm. If you don't mind me asking--" "No one you, nor anyone else in the warband, would be familiar with. And I prefer to keep it that way." "Fair enough," Ragnar answered. He shouldn't be shocked, he realized. After all, it wasn't unheard of in Lanostre to have multiple partners before settling down. "And you?" The question came like a dagger. Ragnar, caught completely off-guard, began to sweat immediately. "O-Oh... Me? I..." He wasn't sure if he should lie or not, and thus, an awkward silence began to fill the air. "Come on, tell me! Does Ragnar have a special someone? Did he get lucky at that pub with Stina and Hassan?" she asked, digging her elbow into his arm, a wry smile on her lips. "I..." "Why are you so nervous? Every one does it, you know. After Culmination, before first assignment, every inquisitor goes out and gets laid. That's the unspoken rite." "Er... No. I don't... I mean, I just haven't gotten the opportunity is all," he tried to say, but Astraea wasn't having it. "You're still a virgin? Gods, Ragnar. Stina and Hassan have utterly failed you as brothers," she said, laughing. She slapped him on the arm. "Please stop hitting me. And no, it's just... It's not important right no--" "Those two idiots... Now, it'll be more difficult. Everyone on those arks is either a warsibling or a direct subordinate, and you remember what Indira said about that. Can't do it, it's immoral." Ragnar let out a tormented sigh. "Come now, cheer up. I'm sure there's a nice cute girl in El just waiting for you to sweep her off her feet!" At the mention of the word "girl", Ragnar winced, his face turning even paler than usual. Upon catching sight of his sudden change in expression, Astraea's boisterous laughter stopped. "Ragnar..." Realizing his grave error, Ragnar looked at Astraea with a pleading look. He took a step backward, retreating from the R'heon as if they were in a duel. Behind him, the wolf pups began to snarl. "Please... You can't..." Ragnar's voice was a low whisper. After glancing around them to check if anyone was nearby, Astraea strode toward Ragnar and gazed into his eyes. The realization, the shock, the horror. It was writ plain on both of their faces. "You... You're..." Ragnar couldn't face her. His gaze drifted downward and stared at the tiles. They were so beautiful, despite their age, and they covered every inch of floor of this empty husk of a palace, where the feet of strangers and invaders were now traipsing upon. "Yes," he whispered. For the longest time, he didn't even know himself, but at that moment, he understood the truth of it. And some small part of him, the remnant of his life before Varya, when he was just a boy climbing mountains and running alongside his sister in the snow fields of Muraad, felt a great rush of freedom to allow this part of him into the world. But that didn't matter, for with this confession, he was now putting his entire warband in immense danger. The practice of having or seeking relations with members of one's own sex was a grave sin, prevalent and celebrated only in the heathen nation of Omestris, and in the Lord Varya's eyes those who shared in this sin deserved the most severe of of punishments. "They could excommunicate you," Astraea whispered, her expression hardening. "They won't. Not if... Not if we keep it a secret," he pleaded, still unable to face her. "Look at me, Ragnar," she spoke, placing her hands on his shoulders, and squeezing hard. The tips of her fingers dug into the muscles of his chest. "Tell me the truth. Is there anyone you've been seeing?" "No. Of course not." Her eyes narrowed. Anger flashed within them. He was putting them all in danger. He understood this, and yet, Ragnar finally stared back, meeting her growing rage with defiance. "This changes nothing. I am the Protector, and I won't let anything get in the way of that," he said. She blinked once and left him there on the balcony without another word. Ragnar stood alone. For a few fleeting moments he felt utterly terrified. Tatiana... Galahad... Everyone... but he then realized that he wasn't as terrified or sad as he thought he would be. No, true oblivion was what awaited them beyond the meridian. [i]This didn't kill me[/i], he thought to himself with a smile. [i]If I survived this, maybe I can survive what's coming up next.[/i] He walked toward the stone railing, picked up Astraea's discarded bottle of virrika, and began to drink.