Fate - First Reply Over the shingled roof

[Cormund Augur]

Dormitory Rooftop-The Academy-11 PM

Cormund overlooked the remote scenery surrounding the academy. Being almost midnight, it was nearly silent now save for those forced to stay out late to train by their proctors. That, and the ever constant noise buzzing through his head. The sounds of screams weeks or years in the making never failed to nauseate him. Sights of those doomed to anything from mild inconvenience to horrifying death peppered the periphery of his vision, blocking out many of the stars that night.

Sometimes he came out here when his insomnia got the better of him, which was almost every night. All it took was a quick hop out of the dorm window, a climb over the arch of a shingled roof and there was a perfect little balcony. It was more like a miniature battlement, but it felt like a balcony to him. He sat and focused as hard as he could to enjoy the peace of the night. He focused on trying to relax, but it never quite worked. It was better than the same sights and sounds while surrounded by sweaty overworked aspiring dreadlords, though. He looked to his left at an empty space on his little battlement, as if it were built for two.

Cormund wondered if anyone else liked to come up here.

 

[Luthen]

As Cormund sat upon the battlements, he would suddenly feeling a swelling of conviction. An impression of optimism and confidence which drew into the very heart and soul. One which projected not from the boy himself, but the man making his way up to the battlements.

His steps were careful, controlled, betraying the streaks of gray in his hair which could be seen even in the moonlight.

Luthen did not wear the typical plates of armor he kept to, but instead the old Black Coat of a Dreadlord. The insignia of their order pinned upon the lapel, though the buttons undone to reveal a more casual tunic underneath. As he stepped upon the battlements, the First Level stopped.

For a moment he peered at the Initiate, looking out into the distance.

A smile drawing on his face as an old memory flickered to the front of the mind.

He stood there for a second more, and then slowly moved forward. The First Level Dreadlord made no attempt to conceal his steps. The sound of his leather boots hitting the roof tiles echoing out loud enough so the boy would hear, and if he didn't? Well, then Luthen would need to have a word with his Proctors.

In my day. Luthen's fingers flickered in the sing language that all Dreadlords and Initiates were taught to communicate silently. The Punishment for being found up here would not be pleasant.

The Dreadlord continued, his voice voluntarily lost due to his magic. Fingers flickering once more as he moved to sit besides Cormund. Perhaps we won't tell anyone?

He asked, looking inquisitively at the Initiate.

 

[Cormund Augur]

In just a moment, Cormund felt better than he had in a long time. It was as I'd he could simply step forward and fly, like he could do anything. Then he heard the boots. He scrambled to his feet and turned around, hoping it wasn't a proctor about to force him into laps around the academy. As he spotted who it was, all he could do was give a salute and force a greeting out of his mouth.

"Dread...Dreadlord Luthen, sir."

Of all the people that could have found his spot, he didn't expect it to be such a legend. It also explained the sudden boost of confidence, even though he'd only heard of his ability in stories.

"I-yes I imagine it was, sir. Thank you, for not telling anyone, sir."

Cormund sat back down as Luthen did, staring back out into the night. Maybe it was only due to the Dreadlord's magic, but Cormund felt as if he could...relax, even with the buzz in his head.

"I'm just having a hard time sleeping with the noise. Part of my curse, hearing the voices of the doomed and dying. Up to the moment I fall asleep."

He reeled for a moment, thinking perhaps he had gotten too familiar with his superior, and turning his head to face him.

"Apologies, sir. My proctors don't like when I call it a curse, I can't imagine you do much, either."

Cormund looked around at their spot, wondering to himself, and then out loud.

"So, did you know how harsh the punishment was from experience? Is that how you knew about this spot?"

Luthen

 

[Luthen]

Luthen smiled as the boy stumbled over his words, allowing the young Initiate's consciousness to simply flow as nerves and the folly of youthful ignorance took him to spilling everything which lay upon his mind. It reminded him of Belleck, a boy that had been in his own class of Initiates.

Belleck had been a mountain, even at a young age, and his magic had been an excellent complement to Luthen's. Yet despite his size, the boy had been a nervous wreck. Often confiding in the Mute when he could speak to no one else. Always he jittered, and ultimately that had been his downfall. He doubted this boy would have the same fate, it was very different being nervous around a man like Luthen. Do not apologize.

He signed to the Initiate.

It is because of my magic that I do not speak. Luthen explained to Cormund. What is that but not a curse?

There had been a time when he had despaired over his voice. When he'd sobbed every night and wished that he could speak, shout, and even sing. A part of him still wished for it, though he'd long since lost any thought of finding a way to skirt the effects of his magic. Even the Radiant Church had not been able to stop the effects, despite their many attempts. Our gifts can be both blessing and malediction, denying that truth is folly.

He offered with a smile, offering the boy some wisdom that had been denied to himself at his age.

Luthen's gaze for a moment leaving Cormund as he slowly looked out to the valley ahead. The smile on his face growing wider as he reveled in the vast openness of the land. A sight that he had missed more than anything in the confines of his cell.

Yes, me and two others of my class used to perch ourselves here. He mused to the Initiate with a smile. The Proctor's caught us only once.

The Dreadlord said, a mischievous sort of pride playing over his features.

 

[Cormund Augur]

Cormund ventured a small smile in return. It was nice to find someone who shared his perspective, even though he had a hard time thinking it any sort of blessing.

"Thank you for your understanding, sir. I suppose you would understand it best."

It was just now he was realizing how strange this situation was. He was sitting next to a living legend, one long thought to be dead. Cormund was only 4 years old when the man before him was went missing, kidnapped in reality. He was still with his parents then, but with only so many first level Dreadlords, the news reached even their little fortune telling tent. There was a special buzz among the oracles of Vel Anir, who all scrambled to scry his location or foretell his eventual rescue, but none of them could do it. None of them except Cormund. Of course it was his stupid, blind, indiscriminate sight that was able to catch it. It's hard to hide something from someone who doesn't even know they're prying.

The excitement of meeting such an esteemed Dreadlord had made him forget. Visions of torture in some poorly lit cell. The sight of a younger Luthen, gagged and bound, surrounded by figures clad in white and gold. He always found it curious why that vision stuck with him out of so many over the years. He just assumed it to be one of many nonsense sights, telling him futures that would never come to pass. Thoughts he was having months ago when Luthen made his return popped into Cormund's head, thoughts he kept to himself. He could have helped. He could have helped save him, but he didn't. If he had a little more confidence, or just some way to tell fact from fiction, he might have been able to spare the man before him from over a decade of grueling captivity.

All Cormund could do was smile again, more forced this time, and try to speak to Luthen as if he had not just thought such horrible things. That inimitable aura of his certainly helped, it made him feel like the worlds greatest fraud.

"Maybe I should have a little more faith in myself despite it all. Who were the others who stayed with you up here? Any other famous names I'd recognize?"

Cormund chuckled a bit, mostly just to ease his own nerves.

 

[Luthen]

Luthen smiled. In some ways I do, but our experiences are our own.

It had taken him time to learn, and then later understand that particular lesson. Though the human experience was often similar, no situation was the same. His words were a kindness to the boy, but the Dreadlord would not pretend that he knew exactly what he was going through.

He simply couldn't, but he could offer comfort all the same.

"No one you would know, unfortunately. Luthen signed back as Cormund asked about his former friends. They both passed, long before you were born, I think.

The Dreadlord did not know Cormund's age, but he was in the Academy and thus meant he could take a good guess. One fell on the Tower, and the other during the Border Wars.

A conflict that had raged in the East of Vel Anir with certain smaller cities. Though nothing much had come of it in the end, the conflict had been incredibly intense. Some of their foes hiring mage-breakers to combat the Dreadlords. But they were good friends. A valuable thing in this place.

Especially then.