27.1 Fic: Ta'lok Reflection 1
Ta’lok’s pensive steps took him downstairs and out a door onto a path that wound around the edge of the main building.
He smelled the smoke before he rounded the corner. Saeldor was relaxing in a cushioned wicker chair, long legs extended to the edge of the patio. They exhaled a stream that floated in a wreath around their head. They lifted a hand as Ta’lok approached.
“Good morning, brother.”
“Morning,” he said, “Up for a walk?”
Saeldor pushed themself up from the sturdier-than-they-looked armrests, “Why not?”
Ta’lok waited while they carefully tapped out their pipe and put it back in its pocket, then stepped down. He matched stride immediately, as much from habit as from the satisfaction of walking in step.
The path took them along the long edge of the house. On their left, the grounds sloped down into gardens. The tall, gleaming metal fence that bordered the earthmote shone beyond them, but dim through the shielding fog.
Saeldor let them get a good dozen paces from the patio before speaking.
“What’s on your mind, brother?”
“Thinking about what’s next, mission-wise.” He paused, “And what the kid said the other night, about running out of time.”
Saeldor nodded. “You figure he’s running on a deadline?”
Ta’lok shook his head, snorting in irritation. “No, if for no other reason than it would necessitate him having a straightforward, concrete answer to a simple question.”
Saeldor chuckled, thumped him on the back. Ta’lok stewed.
After a moment, he spoke. “Whatever’s going on, though, it is accelerating. The not-sleeping thing is handy for watches, but comes with its own liabilities. He was a burnout risk before that. And I really don’t like the idea he’s goddamn hallucinating-
Saeldor winced – regret at letting that one slip?
“-Who’s to say it won’t mix him up in a proper combat? We haven’t had one since Ignia. And if whatever’s going on, the cognitohazard-door-thing – we really need a word for it.”
“’Patron’ is standard for warlocks,” Saeldor mused, “Doesn’t seem like a perfect fit, but,”
“Patron, sure. If his patron is getting a better grip on the wheel, there’s no reason to think it’d care about collatoral. He hinted at a connection with that Tower, too. The monster we fought or the creeps that worked for it, either way, Bad News Future if he’s right.
He didn’t realize he was walking faster until he noticed Saeldor had fallen back from his peripheral. He started timing his steps.
“Then there’s also, on the drive here, with the-” he wiggled a finger before his mouth for lack of a less-derisive word than ‘gibbrish.’ “Related, you think?”
Saeldor looked up, thinking. He waited – an unwillingness to conclusion-jump was a valuable trait in a right hand, as well as in a friend.
“They did just come out of a pretty gnarly setup,” the paladin mused, his voice ambling along – to a conclusion, Ta’lok hoped.
“Sometimes stress can sneak up on you, you push it aside and push it aside, then bam! It’s condensed into something that whacks you upside the head as soon as you’re open.” They cast a pointed glance aside at him. He acknowledged the paralell for expediency’s sake.
“Doesn’t usually look like that, though. Brother was chill. Talking, joking even. Then-” they snapped their fingers, “seemed to surprise him as much as anyone.”
“And no injuries?”
“Not a scratch on him. No fever, no blurred vision, high heart rate but who wouldn’t be stressed?”
“Related, then.”
“If only due to a lack of other explanations.”
Ta’lok nodded. It wasn’t a solid connection, but as good as confirmation as he was going to get, with a first-hand assessment being as unlikely as it was.
“And then there’s the disappearances. Still no word of explanation there, instead an admission that he apparently does it a lot more than we’ve been aware of. Kid is still absolutely a flight risk.”
Saeldor raised a bushy eyebrow at him. “Back on the ship,” they mused, “wasn’t it Mika who said the whole bit about not splitting up?”
Ta’lok couldn’t help it, his frown deepened. That meeting had presented its own set of problems.
“For the purposes of resolving Noor’s situation, yes. A situation we’re one beaurocratic knot from finishing off, if I’m following the politics correctly. Then what?”
Saeldor smiled, “I’m pretty sure he’s got reasons to stick around when she’s safe, too.”
“Oh, sure,” He hadn’t forgotten that penny in the air. Two ways it could fall, neither of them ideal.
“And if she isn’t into it?”
The knowing smile fell from Saeldor’s face.
“You think he’d run?”
“You think he wouldn’t? I’ve known guys way less twitchy who packed up and started over because a pretty girl told them ‘no.’”
Saeldor considered this.
“She could also tell him yes.”
“And then what? With a hothead like him and a headstrong kid like her?”
Saeldor shrugged, but the smile was back, chiding. “I believe the expression is ‘happily ever after,’ brother.”
Ta’lok shook his head, “Or they both get even worse at keeping priorities straight. Right now, with things as they currently are, in a situation where one of the two needs to take a risk, or a hit, for everyone to get out clean, you don’t think the other would hesitate?”
The paladin’s tone was mild, “I think any of us would.”
His sigh was exasperated, but Saeldor remained patient.
“We can hypothesize until year zero, brother, but you can’t control the heart. They’ll either find a way to make it work together or they’ll fall apart. It’s the way of people.”
Ta’lok huffed. “The ‘way of people’ is why there were rules against that kind of thing in the Forces.”
Saeldor looked skeptical, “You really think someone could just not fall in love because it was against the rules?”
“Rules weren’t against catching feelings, just working with or for the person you caught them for. Dating a coworker’s still a recipe for morale issues, but the separation worked fine in terms of keeping everything running.”
“Except we don’t have another department to move either of them to.”
Ta’lok nodded. He appreciated the comprehension, but they still didn’t sound terribly bothered by the idea.
The firbolg shrugged, letting his arms swing. “We’re just going to have to trust them, then.”
He opened his mouth to point out the incredible gamble of the suggestion, but shut it when they turned the corner.
Back at the training yard; Alejandro was taking down the striking dummy, hauling the solid wood mannequin without issue toward the equipment racks.
If Noor’s parents weren’t aware of that nonsense yet, he was not going to be the one to tip them off.
“Keenstrider! And it’s Saeldor, isn’t it?” He waved from the equipment rack, where he was retrieving an extra set of dual blades.
“Good to see you again, brother.”
“I was just setting up for blades training. Marwa should be along in a minute.”
Ta’lok’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t suppose the lesson is open to observers?”
“Of course! Assuming Marwa’s not become shy in her absence.”
He laughed. “I’d say not.”
“Then it should be fine.”
Saeldor was looking placidly around the arena. “I think I’ll keep ambling on, if it’s the same to you,” they said, making eye contact.
Yeah, I think we’ve said all that’s constructive to say. For now.
“Sure, I’ll catch you later.”
“On the flip-side, brother.”
He followed Saeldor’s path to the corner, where Mirage was walking with the pace of someone resolved to get it overwith. She paused for a fistbump with the paladin. At her elbow, the walking morale issue himself, not even trying to suppress a ‘this-oughta-be-good’ smirk.
Alejandro tossed the second pair of blades to the rogue, who caught them like they were softballs. Ta’lok took his cue and stepped out of the arena proper, taking a seat on a sideline bench. Oliviera took a seat beside him.
He regarded the kid out the corner of his eye. Still looked like a stiff breeze could bowl him over, stll sat slouching, chin on fist, elbows on knees. Humans lived what, eighty, ninety years?
You’ve got maybe ten years before your back catches up with you, kid.
There was no point in chiding him. Comments about his long-term health used to get only sullen stares or cold shoulders. Now they’d graduated to eye rolls and sarcasm. He’d seen the M.O. enough times to spot it a mile away: the feckless determination of someone who figured on dying young. Pissed him off almost as much as the sneaking away. He shook it off. Not the time.
"This should be interesting. Alejandro is a skilled fighter."
He got a one-shouldered shrug in response, but the kid was smiling, watching the rogue and fighter circle each other, daggers gleaming in the morning light.
"So's she. Who's your money on?"
He thought about it. Their elemental powers would likely match to a draw. Their movement styles were similar, comparable in speed, agility, and technique, but Noor senior had the greater breadth of experience. In a press, Alejandro had the advantage of weight and muscle, but cutting Mirage off from all escape routes, including the aerial, was a task in and of itself. On the other hand, Alejandro had the stamina to wait her out. Mirage had a bad habit of going for a big finish in the beginning, long fights of attrition always put her back to working ranged cover in the back half.
"She's learning, but I still say her Baba's got her beat."
Oliveira scoffed. "We'll see, won't we?"
Ta’lok was still making up his mind whether this newfound cockiness was an improvement over the sullen sarcasm or not. He gave the kid a minute to come up with a wager.
“KP back on the road?”
Standard. “Sure, how many days?”
“Just one, it’s only training.”
“Done.”
Was it just him, or was the kid’s handshake a little firmer these days?
Alejandro’s voice drew both their focus.
“I wll begin with a Moulinet.”
Mirage’s shoulders tensed, he only gave her a second before the attack; a sweeping strike in tempo with the steps. Not as fast as their fight that morning. She went for the simple block, a downward-guard that Alejandro immediately turned to a press, the counterforce too far down the blade for her wrist to resist. She twisted, tried to deflect his blade to the side and didn’t block the overhead strike to her opposite shoulder in time.
Ta’lok raised an eyebrow at the warlock, who either ignored it or was too intent on the match to notice.
“You’ve been neglecting your training. Again!”
Mirage cursed under her breath, but got back in step, circling. The focus was back in her face. Her guard in place, flexible.
“This time, I will flèche.”
Alejandro broke the circle, rushing forward in a lunge. Mirage wasted no time, turning her hover into a leap, flipping her centre out of reach, slicing downward. The point-in-line position of Alejandro’s forward arm was too extended to take up a high guard in time. His off-hand flew up anyway, but shifting aside of its range was simple. She landed behind him, having scored a touch on each shoulder.
Ta’lok nodded, wager put aside. Hell yeah, that’s our rogue.
The rest of the fight was intense. The first two passes had given each of them clues and reminders of what they were dealing with. The clashing of steel filled the air, their steps raised dervishes of dust and sprays of sparks. Mirage blew them into Alejandro’s face, making him blink, but the morning’s sparring gave Ta’lok no reason to speculate that her teacher was unwilling to fight dirty.
Her next aerial flip ended with Mirage on her back, forcibly reintroduced to gravity by at least 180 pounds of counterforce yanking on her ankle. The next one after that began with a slicing attack that passed right through her misty form. She rematerialized to claim a touche-de-pointe with smug ease.
Back and forth it went. He counted points in his head. It was close, but the numbers didn’t lie.
The dust settled. Mirage and her baba were sheathing their swords, but Oliviera was still looking studiously forward like the match was still going.
He liked to think himself a gracious winner, but he wasn’t above a smug nudge or three on the kid’s skinny shoulder until he finally sighed and gave the “yeah yeah, I’ve got your KP, first day out?”
He grunted confirmaiton as he stood. Stretched.
“What’re you doing next?”
He looked down, surprised. Oliviera’s expression gave nothing away.
“TBD, why?”
“Saw a game room on the way out, been a minute since I thrashed you on a chessboard.”
He scoffed. “We’ll see about that. Lead the way.”