Gavin had slept late, having been too excited to go to bed early. Before going to his room he had asked Daryll if he could borrow one of the books, never mind if he couldn’t yet understand the script. The runes he could recognize, anyway, as well as some of the drawings. Deciding that, when all this is over, he would like to learn not just Elvish but the Amrian language as well, Gavin finally forced himself to lay down. He woke not too long after Ruli had gone to the alchemy chamber. “Morning,” he greeted. He had forgone the coffee, having more of the hot chocolate. “We should bring back this stuff. It’s like magic. Though it’s got sugar in it…yeah you probably won’t like it.” 

He grinned, sipping on his mug, then his eyes scanned their notes. It still felt strange to him, jumping back into bloodwork, and for a war in a foreign land. A foreign [i]world[/i]. “Uh…mind if I ask you something personal?” he said after a while. “This is all—almost too much. I’d turn tail and run, but—I’m here to get mine back. For everything that happened. And I wanna see what these people are made of. After being told over and over that they’re a part of me, that I’m supposed to be one of them.” He flexed his hand, where Ruli had made the small cut yesterday. “That’s clear to me. Ysaryn, well, she’s pretty straightforward with what she wants. But…” he trailed off, almost unsure about asking. “You’re pretty far in deep here for someone who’s just swept along. What’s your stake in this? Sorry,” he apologized immediately, knowing how Ruli could be very tight-lipped with regard to himself. “Just curious, is all.”

Not long after, Daryll entered. He looked very different from how he was usually dressed: he combed his long brown hair and attempted to tie it back neatly (without much success), and he wore a light green shirt, doublet, pants, and boots that looked new and more expensive. The face he wore when he entered the alchemy chamber reflected the fact that he wasn’t particularly happy with being attired thus. “Uh…yeah. We’ll be leaving for the war council soon after you’re ready.”
“Well, you’re looking pretty smart,” Gavin said with a grin, before he pursed his lips. “[i]We’re[/i] not gonna have to wear formal clothes, are we?”
“Not unless you want to.”
Gavin shuddered. “Not if the demons of hell were after me.” As Lord Itallo’s ward and right hand man, he had worn his fair share of nobleman’s attire, and he wasn’t willing to stuff himself in those clothes anytime soon. 

“Lucky you,” Daryll muttered glumly. “Anyway. I spoke to Kire earlier. She said it might be best not to introduce you as a Gemini at the council. So, strictly within family, and close friends.” 
Gavin glanced at Ruli, then nodded to Daryll. “Do we bring everything we need? Or are we coming back here?”
“We’ll be back here after the council, so maybe by dinner tonight or early morning tomorrow,” Daryll replied. “Unless you think it’s necessary for the lords and ladies and their officers to see these things, we don’t have to yet. The council is convening at another castle, where the main camp will be.  I surmise our main function would be to tell them the broad strokes of the plan so we could coordinate the attack properly, and then to meet with Narda, Maika, and the others to explain how we’ll lay down the wards.”

Gavin exhaled noisily. “How many people will be at the council?”
Daryll looked just as anxious as he was. “Too many for my comfort. Now, and be honest,” he said, pulling out a feathered cap he had tucked under his arm and pulling it down over his head. “Do I look absolutely ridiculous in this? It’s ridiculous isn’t it. Gods, I haven’t worn these since Elva’s marriage.” 

Elva was back on the pipe today. She had elected to stay behind to man the fort, but it made her nervous that Kire, Edward, Jan, and even Daryll would be gathered for the war council. Granted, they weren’t all marching to war right this instant, but it made her nervous. “Gods above, I’m a wreck,” she muttered, wondering if it was too early to drown herself in drink. “[i]If I’m like this before the war council, how much worse would I be before the battle itself?[/i]”
“[i]You’ll be alright. Once it’s time to work, you have the steadiest hands in the empire,[/i]” came Kire’s voice as she entered the great hall. She wore clothes fit for an empress, a lord’s apparel fitted for her more feminine body: a black shirt worn under a deep green doublet with gold embroidery, breeches of the same color, and high boots. Over all these was a black, fur-lined mantle with the Wyvern insignia woven in green and gold thread. Her hair had been tied back, too, and her lips had red rouge on them, standing out even more against her skin and the dark fabric. Her sword gleamed by her side. Elva took a deep breath and walked up to her, holding her by the shoulders. 

“You look—ready,” the healer said, lips pursed afterward. 
Kire nodded. “The others?”
“Daryll went back to tell them to prepare.”