Comrades in Arms {Eris Albrecht/Ilheod C Support}

[Eris Coulson]

Duties were more or less the focus of a soldiers life. Completing duties, assigning duties, or even observing duties being assigned or completed. One always had to be ready to carry out any given task. It was, ultimately, for the good of the nation. For a surprisingly large number of Bernese rebels, the good of the nation was enough to spur them ever forward through any duty, regardless of how challenging or dreadfully dull it may be.

Eris was not such a soldier. As such, carrying a fairly large crate through fort Macendew was not exactly her favourite duty, even if the crate belonged to a man she respected. She ignored the looks other soldiers gave her whilst on her path. They probably stared because they were surprised she could even carry the large crate. Hmph, she was stronger than most soldiers of her rank and she'd dare to say some above her rank.

Commander Ilheod, though. She was certainly not stronger than him. Though she desperately wanted to be. THAT was the motivation that kept her from dropping the crate and storming off in the opposite direction. Power and influence were what she needed. The good of the nation be damned.

She eventually reached the door to the Commander's room, or office more like. The strawberry blonde frowned at the realization that knocking with her hands otherwise occupied was more or less within the realm of the impossible. So she took a step back, sighed in irritation, and kicked the door three times...albeit a bit harder than she would have liked.

"Commander Ilheod, sir. Private Albrecht with a package for you." Gods she hated the sound of her own voice right now. A messenger girl. A delivery girl. Was this what she signed up for?

[Ilheod]

He'd been gazing at the map of Bern for about an hour. He had small pins pressed against it to represent various crucial points along Bern. There were small wooden castles resting at the forts, and Ilheod's gaze was lingering on the western most mountain fort. Fort Redoran. His home. For several generations the 38th had calledn Redoran their home. His unit was smaller than it had been in several years, but it was an important location. They had watch over all of Lycia from their peaks, and access to the western valley below.

They were currently using it to launch scouting missions through the valley's around Larguz. Nocturnal runs were easy to sneak by from their position given their units specialty. They weren't called the Nightwings for dark wyvern scale pigment after-all. The missions however required set check-points for them to swiftly go to and from with ease. That was why he'd had to gather Rations from the supplies of Macendew.

Quiet armored strides brought the Devilslayer from left to right side of his office. Just in thought. Until he heard a sudden knock at his door. The captain noted that it was a bit louder and more rough than a traditional knock. That likely meant...

He moved forwards before opening the door as he heard the muffled voice behind. The wyvern commander flashed a faint smile before moving the door open so the young soldier could enter and place her delivery crate down within the office. Ilheod folded his arms before nodding towards her.

"Ah. I've been expecting that today. Thank you private. Please, come in. "

He quietly took a few steps back while holding the door open for her, tilting his head to examine her.

"How has Macendew been treating you, Private Albrecht?"

[Eris Coulson]

Eris was half expecting some sort of scorn or reprimand, but then again this was Commander Ilheod. The first time they had met was almost entirely because Eris had issues with knocking gently. Had she taken the time to think on it a little more, she'd likely have been a bit touched that he already grown accustomed to that particular trait of hers. Instead she was stuck carrying a fairly large crate, and only had enough time to give the Commander a nod and a grunt before making her way into his office.

It was neat, orderly. It seemed the Commander had settled in well enough. Like a few other superiors he had a detailed map of Bern with some pins on top of it. Better than good old Etrurian chess pieces at least. Luckily it was so neat that she had little worry about where to leave the crate, and instead set it down right in front of his desk, letting out a relieved sigh as she was finally free of her burden.

The Commander asked her how Macendew was treating her. Likely just an after thought. The two had gotten somewhat acquainted very recently, and she did owe her potential shot at learning leadership skills to him. As for the question itself she couldn't help but snort a little bit.

"I feel like it would be more fitting for me to ask you of that, seeing as you're still adjusting." Eris rolled her shoulders and turned towards the Commander. "But it's treating fine, I guess. Only real complaint is that I'm seeing too much of it these days. I'd rather be out, fighting the good fight, or whatever you'd call it."

In hindsight perhaps she was already speaking too casually to him, but unless he got uptight about it she wasn't going to bother filtering her responses with unecessary "sirs" and the like. If he wanted to chat then it'd best be an honest one.

"And how about you? Still missing some key...stuff, like that?" Eris jabbed a thumb towards the crate. She had no idea what the contents were and she knew better than to ask the superior who handed them off to her. "Or are you mostly set now?"

[Ilheod]

Ilheod's gaze shifted to the desk he'd been sitting at, before folding his arms behind his back with hands clasping at opposing forearms. He chuckled a bit before taking a few steps to the side and directing his field of vision more squarely on the left wall, and the fairly large map of Elibe that was pinned to it. His eyes found squarely a location he could've found blindfolded. Resting atop the western fringe of Bern, and a place he knew as his only home of late. Fort Redoran. The aging wyvern commander spoke up with a slight hint of thought hidden behind his tone.

"Oh I won't be here long. I came to report our findings to the other commanders, and will be headed back to the front soon. My lads and I have been operating as nocturnal scouts and for small raids; but what we lack in numbers compared to other regiments we make up for in persistence. "

He walked over to the crate she'd set down, before crouching besides it and placing a hand on it with a soft grin. Supplies of all kinds were needed. From weapons, to rations. With the nightwings on the move constantly they had to run light. As he chimed in again he stood once more and moved away from the crate and back to his desk. On the left side, resting next to the gargoyle bone mask he often wore now was a red helmet distinct from any of his own men's. His old helm he'd worn prior to the siege at the city of heroes. The man's fingers brushed along the smooth crimson surface of the cool metal before he turned to gaze at Eris.

"Before arriving here, I don't think a single man in my unit, myself included, had more than two hours of sleep a day. Often a day without sleep entirely scattered through out. There's far too much to be done, and with the availability of movement thanks to our wyverns we have much more expected of us. A higher work load if you will. So, I can say that simply being here to get some rest has been a much needed reprieve. To many of the nightwings, this is like shore-leave."

[Eris Coulson]

Eris was actually a bit saddened to hear the Commander wouldn't be staying, though she couldn't quite understand why. It was only natural: soldiers came and went all the time. A unit like Ilheod's wasn't fit to just wind up stuck in Macendew like she was. Perhaps it was a bit of envy as well. She'd found herself unfortunately full of that particular emotion all too often as of late.

"I...see. I probably should have guessed that much. Given the nature of your unit and your...importance." Eris answered as she watched Ilheod study the crate briefly before moving over to his desk. He went on to liken this brief stint at Macendew to a sort of mock vacation. Shore-leave, but really, that's just a vacation. Not that it wasn't earned or necessary, but the idea of Macendew as a spot for rest and relaxation irked Eris further. What the hell was she doing in this dump in the first place? Too often she found herself pestered by that question.

"Well, at least you sound grateful for the stay." She was unable to keep the envious, bitter bite out of her tone, as she folded her arms across her chest. "I, for one, have seen far too much of this fort as it is. Enough to last me a lifetime." She was still wise enough to hold back too many complaints, though she just barely succeeded in doing so. The redhead had far too much pent up resentment for far too many things, and too few opportunities to unleash those feelings in a "healthy" manner, like combat.

[Ilheod]

Ahhh...to be young and hungry for combat...restless...I remember that. Gods..I've gotten so..old.

The orange haired commander let out a brief chuckle as he moved to the corner of the room, leaning against it with his shoulders positioned at either side. He was too used to an active life-style to sit still for very long. His single hued gaze found itself resting on her while he quizzically examined young Eris again. His tone was almost amused, but just restrained enough to be light-hearted.

"It may seem like a burden, but trust me. To be on the front is it's own stress. Constantly on edge. Unsure. Perpetually guarding and looking out for the smallest threat."

He briefly paused before turning to look at her once more, but more squarely this time.

"You've probably heard it before, or maybe seen tidbits of it..but war is an ugly thing. Pursuing glory on the front lines..earning honor..bah. Remember lass. Honor is of no use to the dead. I couldn't begin to tell you how many lads I've seen die. Honest lads, good ones, with a solid future. Some as smiths. Maybe writers, artisans, artists, leaders. Snuffed out in an instant because they took up arms for glory or to bring honor to their families.

And yet...

I end up bringing their families bodies instead of glory, because they got ahead of themselves. We all fight for something, and sure we've got to do our part..but enjoy any time you get away from the danger. It's a harsh world out there. The more of us that live through it, the better...."

He looked upwards, pondering how much he'd just spouted off before nudging himself forward and stood straight once more. His tone was back to his normal one, losing some of the gruffness.

"Ahh..forgive my prattling on lass. I seem to be a bit more passionate about such things than I recall."

[Eris Coulson]

Eris...hadn't been expecting the response she received. The Commander did not berate her moping, but rather shared with her some deep, personal beliefs. Slivers of memories that clearly haunted him to this day. He spoke not of seeking glory on the battlefield, but rather of enjoying peace off of it. He spoke of the tragedies of war, the poor fates of those who she clearly reminded him of.

It was unnerving, moreso than any lecture would have been, and it actually made Eris stop and think. Stop and feel. How...how did this make her feel? There was a sliver of...something sad, for the Commander. But beyond that there was naught but a swirling mass of emotion inside of her, but she couldn't even come close to scraping the surface. What did it all mean?

Eris crossed her arms tightly and averted her gaze for a moment, pondering everything over. She sought glory in everything she did, right? No...no, not really, because what else did she do? Seeking glory on the battlefield was her primary goal, her be all end all, and all she really did was train for that. Suddenly those swirling emotions turned into something she could recognize: anger. Not necessarily anger at the Commander, but at everything he said nonetheless.

"If I'm not supposed to seek glory on the battlefield then..." Then what else is there? "Then what am I supposed to do?" What use am I?

Despite her initial anger when she first began to spoke, her words were...softer, weaker than normal. She looked at the Commander, growing desperate for a true answer to that question. What else was she other than her skill in battle? How was she to accomplish her goals if she was to focus on her time OFF the battlefield? She was a bastard child, hated by her siblings and her step-mother. How else could she gain her family's respect and admiration? How else could she accomplish that goal of being recognized for more than just her heritage?

The anger fully subsided, and once again she felt herself filled with that terrible, dreaded hollow feeling.

[Ilheod]

She was still learning. Still finding her place in this world. It wasn't unusual. Most who walked within the confines of the military life based themselves upon their work. They lived by the orders they completed. Every day centralized upon completing objectives placed before them from a higher commander. This left them little room to invest in personal goals. Dreams. Aspirations. Not ones they could achieve within the moment. At-least...save for ones that a soldier could obtain. Through more fighting. More victory. More glory.

Ilheod quietly sighed a bit, taking a few steps towards the female soldier. She was so alike his younger brothers, and himself, when he was at that age. The aging wyvern commander flashed a brief moment of warmth through the softness of his smile. A way to show sympathy, within a surrounding of almost perpetual unforgiving harsh reality. Ilheod's hand clapped her shoulder lightly, armor breaking silence along-side the clap before he tilted focused his gaze directly on her. His eye-patch still on, this left his emerald eye to gaze directly towards her while he did his best to answer her qualm. At-least..guide her, if not answer.

"You need to find something in your life beyond the way of a soldier. Trust me, it's not for as many as they'd like others to believe. They have families. They grow old. They settle down. They aspire. Dream. They have talents. Trades. Other aspects that define them. You need to figure out what it is that you can fill your life with, beyond the way of the warrior. I couldn't begin to tell ya' what that is. That's something you'll have to figure out on your own lass. I can tell you though, as someone who lives that very path, it gets pretty damn miserable at times. I do it, because I must, but that doesn't mean everyone has to. Your young. You have a future. Be a soldier, aye. Work hard. Don't let it define your life by it though. It shouldn't be the entire book, just a chapter, aye? "

[Eris Coulson]

Eris watched as Ilheod approached her, clasping a hand on her shoulder and letting some warmth shine through on his expression. He gave another speech. One more hopeful than the last, perhaps meant to be the answer that Eris seeked. She listened carefully, to every detail he mentioned, and every shift of his expression throughout his speech. If it was something that was supposed to be so important to her, then she wanted to hold onto it, be able to go back and use it as a guideline when applicable.

As much as she wanted something like that from her father, or her other mentors, they simply hadn't provided. Her father was barely a mentor at all, let alone a proper father figure. Her mother only had warnings and fears to offer her. Eris' mentors had been strict and professional. Kind in their own way, a bit like the Commander, and yet still somewhat impersonal. It didn't bother Eris much, but it didn't leave her with a lot to go off of. To Eris: the only thing outside of being a soldier was being a servant.

...And her eyes widened in that moment, as a horrible realization just dawned upon her. Unrelated to the Commander's speech, and yet inspired by it all the same. What really was the difference between a soldier and a maid? They had their uniforms marking their stations. They took orders from higher-ups. They were rewarded for success, punished for failure, by those that they SERVED. They did the dirty work for others wealthier and more influential. Where maids brought meals on silver platters, soldiers brought reports and documents.

"You need to find something in your life beyond the way of a soldier."

"...I see." Eris was remarkably resilient, considering the ideology that she had let define her life for the past few years had been shattered. There would be much introspection and thinking left up to her, things that she didn't like to do. Things that honestly left her scared, and feeling vulnerable. But reality had come and hit her now, like the flat end of a great axe. She could try to run and suppress it, like she had her whole life, but could she really go on, being another variant of that which she had tried her damnest to escape? Glory at the cost of servitude...was that really glory?

"You'll need to find the answer to that yourself."

"Thank you, Commander. That was..." Somehow, for reasons lost more to Eris than perhaps anyone, she actually began to chuckle a bit. "That was admittedly a rubbish answer, and yet it's the best one I've ever gotten. I will try to find something, beyond this fortress and armour and fighting. That is all I can really promise."

Eager to add more to this new guideline she'd received, this kernel of wisdom she best not forget, she decided to probe a bit deeper. "Have you found something like that, sir? Hobbies and meaning beyond your duty?"