Olencia had...grown to say the least. Elmira carefully side-stepped around people on the tightly-packed streets, looking around carefully from underneath her hood, one destination in her mind. Before she had come to Olencia she had written a few letters toward her Ablest Master Penril, asking him to try and find out a little information for her about her family. He had tried his best and told her about her two surviving brothers - one of whom was a librarian, while her favorite Hadrian was now High Commander of the whole city. She couldn't have been more proud of him, and then decided that she would leave Port Nirav for the time being, and thus found herself as such in Olencia. All in all it was quite a journey, done on foot only since Elmira did not have a horse and could not ride well worth a damn.

She had her eyes on the seemingly imposing walls of the Fortress, all the while clutching her cloak as she edged near. She let out a voiceless grunt as a few kids rushed by, bumping into her. She watched them go with an interested expression on her extremely pale face. The two kids, a boy and a girl, chased each other down the street, shrieking with laughter. She felt herself smile.

Near enough, she reached into her leather scrip and took out her writing things. She found a nearby bench and sat down. She proceeded to write. It was the only way she could talk now since her initiation in the Dragonlands had taken much, even her voice. She hoped Hadrian would understand. She hoped that he'd recognize her.

I am the Lady Elmira Evaristus. I wish to see my brother.

She looked at the writing on the paper. Fair enough. She rose in a swish of pastel orange skirts and went to the gates, where two guards immediately crossed their spears with one another's.

"State your business!"

Elmira hesitated. Would they believe her? She reached up with her right hand and pulled down her hood, exposing her unnaturally white curls and pale face. The guards stared. She then held up her paper and gestured toward the writing.

The guards exchanged incredulous looks.

"Wait here...my lady." One said before promptly vanishing into the fortress. Elmira stood her ground, aware that the other guard was eyeing her as he would a dangerous snake.

“Fall in!” His voice echoed throughout the Fortress. He was pleased with that voice. It was booming with authority, and besides, it made the new recruits get their butts into gear.

Numerous feet began to move, as Hadrian stood in the Parade Grounds. He watched as they fell into line, dust rising from the soil of the Parade Grounds. Once they did, Hadrian took a deep breath.

“Attention! Captains, report to me!”

Even as the fewer people ran toward him, Hadrian barked a quick ‘Look straight’ and watched as the captains formed a semicircle around him. The one closest to him spoke in a sharp voice as the semicircle was finished.

“Ready…. UP!” Hands fell into a salute. “Sir, reporting as ordered, sir!” The captains yelled.

Hadrian saluted and lowered his arm. The captains lowered theirs only when his salute was finished.

“Squad leaders, get started on our PoI, or Plan of Instruction. Mobile marching for squads Lima, Kilo and November. Stationary marching for squads Tango, Foxtrot and Whiskey. Squads Golf and Hotel will work on PET. Everyone else, drills. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Dismissed.” Hadrian said, stepping back. The officers turned and went about their business. Hadrian had half a mind to make them do the customary five gigs, but then decided against it as a soldier went towards him. He checked the man’s rank and file. Guard. What was it, another complaint? He had withdrawn the soldiers for much needed disciplinary training. Unless it was a murder or something, Hadrian doubted that he would deploy any squads anytime soon.

“Sir!” The guard finally reached him and saluted.

“Report.” Hadrian barked while saluting back. “Make it as quick as possible; I don’t have time for this.”

“Sir, there’s a woman at the gate…”

Hadrian raised an eyebrow. “Is it Captain Dalap’s wife again? I told her that he was fine after that bar fight… You have your orders, Private. Throw her out.”

“Sir, It’s a woman who claims to be your sister!”

That got his attention. Gray eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned into a grimace. “Impossible.” He hissed. “She. Is. Dead.”

“Sir, she insists on seeing you.” The private said. “What should I do?”

“Back to your position.” He snapped. “I will deal with this nuisance myself.” Hands clenched. “How dare she….? To mock my sister’s name… If the King agrees with me, I will see to it that the woman is burnt at the stake.” Hadrian turned and followed the private, ending up at the gates. White hair, gray eyes and pale skin. What mockery was this?

“I do hope you know the implications for what you are doing.” Hadrian hissed, stepping over the threshold. “I have dealt with many of your like before, drunken bastards who claim to be one of my family. That is a Class A offense, and as such, I can have you killed. Your real name, my lady, or I will turn to other ways of persuasion.”

She stood there calmly, twiddling the brush she used for writing. The remaining guard at the gate hesitated and offered her a chair, and hurried off back to his post as if anyone might see him. It struck her as unusual, that behavior. But she gave him a warm smile of thanks and sat down nonetheless, folding her hands on her lap as she waited for her dear Hadrian to arrive.

Elmira's heart beat doubly fast. Would he recognize her? What would he say? Perchance he had a family of his own now, a loving wife who served him hot meals and several kids he could sit on his knee and tickle at the end of every tiring day. She should like to meet his family, and perhaps see their remaining brother as well.

Footsteps sounded. The guard stood in attention and Elmira looked up. She stared. Was this dear Hadrian?

“I do hope you know the implications for what you are doing.” The hostility in his voice made Elmira rise. “I have dealt with many of your like before, drunken bastards who claim to be one of my family. That is a Class A offense, and as such, I can have you killed. Your real name, my lady, or I will turn to other ways of persuasion.”

Hm. She had expected that. She calmly proceeded to write on her paper.

I look different, no? I see you've aged gracefully, dear Hadrian. My name is Elmira. I have never been known otherwise.

She showed it to him, then after a moment, reached into her scrip...and pulled out a decrepit doll. It was the only thing she had when she was taken from their home thirty two years ago. The colors on the doll's porcelain face had faded already. The dress was faded too, but it was not dirty. She pushed the doll into his hands and wrote again.

You remember? You gave me that in my ninth nameday. Mother gave you the money, did she not?

She waited for his response.

Mute? Hadrian raised an eyebrow. She was writing on paper. Mute then. His sister was never mute. That only disproved her claim. He should know. His sister had a melodious voice. If this woman had been a man, Hadrian would’ve punched him in the face.

There was a rustle as the woman finished. Hadrian read it all too quickly.

I look different, no? I see you've aged gracefully, dear Hadrian. My name is Elmira. I have never been known otherwise.

He had this sudden urge to slap her, maybe even wring her neck. Why even persist with this mockery? He had laid the dead to rest long ago. His hands twitched, a sign the guards took to turn around and leave promptly. The High Commander was getting pissed, and when he was angry, one better find something to protect themselves.

She pulled it away, choosing instead to give him an old decrepit doll. Hadrian’s eyes widened. This… She pushed the doll into his hands. Hadrian mutely accepted it. She had written more too.

You remember? You gave me that in my ninth nameday. Mother gave you the money, did she not?

Hadrian could only give a nod. By the gods… It was true then. But then… why was she mute. And if so… she was taken by the slayers, right? That would mean she was a Slayer. One of the people he had come to hate. The sheer irony of this situation was making him angry. Not at her, of course not. But at himself.

“Private Bacara.” He spoke.

One of the two guards came from behind a barrel. He held his shield like it was a wall between him and his superior.

“S-sir?”

“Guard the Lady.” Hadrian said. “I have business to conclude with the recruits. Keep her company. If you make her sad, I will see to it you will get the most demerits any human has ever attained in the Fort, is that understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Bacara said unhappily. He made the salute. “With my life, sir!”

“Verify.” Hadrian snapped. Bacara’s head snapped to his direction. Hadrian narrowed his eyes. “If word of this ever spreads among the troops, you will be the first casualty, is this understood?”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Hadrian turned on his heel and went back to the parade grounds.

“Half turn!” He yelled, voice bouncing off the walls. “To your right!”

Dust rose as the soldiers paused in their drills.

“Give me five gigs*, MOVE!”

=====

Meanwhile, Bacara shuffled uncomfortably as the High Commander called for five gigs. Agh. He was stuck with… what seems to be the Lord’s sister, but then if they WERE related, and Bacara highly doubted that, she would have his explosive temper too. Ouch.

In any case, he kept silent, hearing numerous cries within the walls for the doctors. Guess some people fainted. Finally though, his curiosity got the best of him, and he turned to face the woman.

“Is it true?” He said, voice trembling. “You’re Sir Evaristus’ sister? We had thought he was just some old hick who lost his whole family.”

==============

OCC: Gig – 10 jumping jacks, 10 pumps (girls), 10 pushups (guys) and 10 scrunch-thrusts (girls) and 10 mountaineering (guys)

(ooc - how do you know all of these military things? XD )


Elmira watched him gravely as he slowly displayed signs of recognition and acceptance. His wordless nod meant a lot to her, and she gave a small but relieved smile. She wanted to hug him, but she always had this sense of propriety, though by rights she could (and the thirty two years, how long!) but she kept her hands on her writing things. They had so many things to talk about! She wanted to know if he'd been taking care of himself properly, and if he knew how to launder socks now without getting holes in them.

“Private Bacara.” Hadrian spoke.

One of his guards came forward. Elmira noted that the young man looked terribly nervous. Maybe she could play her flute for him later.

“S-sir?”

“Guard the Lady.” her brother said. “I have business to conclude with the recruits. Keep her company. If you make her sad, I will see to it you will get the most demerits any human has ever attained in the Fort, is that understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” The kid said and then saluted. “With my life, sir!”

“Verify.” So fiery. Hadrian got that from their father, Elmira was willing to bet. “If word of this ever spreads among the troops, you will be the first casualty, is this understood?”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Then her brother left. She watched him go and then proceeded to pack up her things. He had taken the doll with him. She turned to the young man and tried to give him an encouraging smile.

“Is it true?” The kid inquired. “You’re Sir Evaristus’ sister? We had thought he was just some old hick who lost his whole family.”

She was amused by his antics. She sat back down on the chair from earlier and took out her writing things again. She motioned for the young man to sit down too, which he did hesitantly (he just crouched) and she wrote down It is a long story...


~*~*~*~*


Whatever business Hadrian conducted with his soldiers did take quite some time. The young man called Bacara was good company, very good. He listened attentively and asked some fairly easy questions. Elmira had of course told him that she had been separated from Hadrian and had just now come back. When the young man saw that she was not so fiery as her brother, he became more at ease.

Let me play for you. She wrote, and the young man beamed.

"If it isn't too much, my lady."

She smiled as she took out her flute. Soon a soothing melody spread at that part of the fortress. The young man nodded in time to the tune until Elmira finished it. As she tucked her flute away the man said thank you for playing, and Elmira wrote down It was nothing...

She turned to the gates again, her pearly curls bouncing slightly on her shoulders. She wondered when Hadrian would return. Maybe they could have dinner together and catch up... meet with their other brother... and then she would be back to Port Nirav again. And her next visit might not be for years...

((Ooc: I'm in the military. 123rd Squadron, 32nd Detachment of the Aerospace Cadets of the Philippines stationed in Metro Manila. Reserve troop when the Philippine Airforce runs out of soldiers. The military orders I'm barking are translated directly from Tagalog. So half turn is kalawat-hating kanan! in Filipino. Scroll down for more info if you're interested. XD))
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“Sir, five, sir!”

Hadrian stared at the doll and brushed his thumb against the faded face. She was alive then. Such a surprise. She would be a slayer too, he’d wager. Perhaps the reason she lost he voice was probably because of those magic they used, or maybe maltreatment? If it was maltreatment, their leader would get a piece of his mind, or he’d die trying.

“…. Sir, thank you sir!” The chorus rang out. Hadrian looked up distractedly. Waving a hand, he spoke. “Up.”

The men, who were on the ground from finishing with their mountaineering exercise, rose and stood straight. “Sir, thank you sir!”

“Return to the Plan of Instruction.” Hadrian spoke. “Inspection will take place soon enough.”

==============

After they were through, Hadrian wiped the sweat off his brow and called for a break of fifteen minutes. Enough time to catch up with his sister. He found Bacara at ease, even if he wasn’t ordered. When Hadrian came to view, the young man quickly sprang up, forming a sort of cross with his spear, with his right hand behind the left. Hadrian returned the salute, and Bacara stood to attention.

“At ease.” Hadrian spoke, waving a hand. “Report to the Barracks. Fifteen minute break, Bacara. Don’t waste your time. We have PET for your squad, so make sure to wear proper uniform.”

Bacara nodded, formed the salute once more and side-stepped until he passed by Hadrian, then he went toward the Barracks.

“Forgive me for hostility.” Hadrian apologized quickly. “I didn’t know. I had given you up for dead last time. I didn’t expect to see you again. Although… you have white hair, despite being only two years older than me, and you have lost your voice.” He passed back the doll.

If she couldn’t talk, it was high time he talked back. Thirty two years of separation. One would think he would be more talkative. “You are a slayer then? I grew up to hate them. This is... Ironic. I don’t know whether to be relieved you’re still alive or be ashamed that I hate what you have become.” Hadrian leaned on the wall of the threshold and looked up. “There are no other words, perhaps, to express how I feel at the moment.” He cleared his throat. “In those thirty-two years you were gone, I worked harder. Since you were gone, and brother had turned to the great libraries in Gayth…”

He trailed off. Ah, when was the last time he talked to his older brother? Too long as well. He would send letters then. But then his brother was always the workaholic. “It’s high time I tell you about myself... My record is… perfect, save for one. The Crown Prince Penril was stolen right under my nose, by a Slayer, no less.”

---------------------------------------------
((Ooc con't: Stand at ease is lipaw or tikas 'na. Stand easy, likewise, is originally pahinga. Forward march is pasulong, 'kad. Dismissed in Filipino is tumiwalag. Some of the things we do XD.))

((ooc - ooh, is it hard? XD ))


She had just turned her head back to the young private when he suddenly stood to attention, startling her lightly. She blinked in surprise and came to the conclusion that Hadrian must be back already.

“At ease.” Her brother's voice sounded. “Report to the Barracks. Fifteen minute break, Bacara. Don’t waste your time. We have PET for your squad, so make sure to wear proper uniform.”

The young man saluted and went away. Elmira watched him go with amusement before turning to her brother. She smiled at him.

“Forgive me for hostility.” Hadrian apologized quickly. “I didn’t know. I had given you up for dead last time. I didn’t expect to see you again. Although… you have white hair, despite being only two years older than me, and you have lost your voice.” He held out the doll, and Elmira took it carefully.

She nodded.

“You are a slayer then? I grew up to hate them. This is... Ironic. I don’t know whether to be relieved you’re still alive or be ashamed that I hate what you have become.” Hadrian leaned on the wall of the threshold and looked up. “There are no other words, perhaps, to express how I feel at the moment.” He cleared his throat. “In those thirty-two years you were gone, I worked harder. Since you were gone, and brother had turned to the great libraries in Gayth…”

She remained silent, allowing him to talk as she took out her writing things.

“It’s high time I tell you about myself... My record is… perfect, save for one. The Crown Prince Penril was stolen right under my nose, by a Slayer, no less.”

Her hand spasmed and dropped her brush on the ground. She bent to pick it up, her own gray eyes wide as she eyed him. She regained her composure and wrote down.

I would love to tell you everything, but not until you allow me to cook for you. You know Master Penril as well? Not many know his origin.

She rose and held out her hand toward his.

((Ooc: Sometimes. XD))

Her hand spasmed, he didn’t know why, and her brush dropped onto the ground. Before he could lean over and pick it up, she did it herself. Her eyes were wide too. Why? Hadrian narrowed his eyes. Penril. The name struck something, he knew that. He wasn’t stupid. His sister hurriedly wrote onto the paper. Hadrian wondered why she was suddenly nervous.

I would love to tell you everything, but not until you allow me to cook for you. You know Master Penril as well? Not many know his origin.

“Not quite.” He said. “But in light of the situation… I knew Penril when he was a boy.” He shook his head. “We thought he was dead.”

Master Penril? He had heard of that title, but Penril? The Crown Prince was the Ablest? Ablest… that title struck something. The Ablest bore a tattoo… something like the one on the innkeeper’s face, perhaps? On one side of his face, with a very artistic flair to it.

Oh gods.

He had never known… but if things were to be believed, Penril was in fact Pen the innkeeper. He knew that tattoo on the man’s face. He saw it years ago… on the face of that Slayer who came for the boy. He finally remembered. Damn it. He’d have to pay a visit to the Pony then. And perhaps interrogate Pen the innkeeper.

Cook for him? He raised an eyebrow at that. “The Fort isn’t a home.” He said simply. “If you would cook, the troops would have to eat whatever I get as well. I can’t have privileges that I don’t deserve, and I don’t think you can cook for over two hundred recruits. I know most of them are gluttons.” He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. Yet another reminder he was getting old. Ugh. “But if you wish, so be it then. The Mess hall is in the Barracks. First floor, kitchens are to the left.”

There was a shout from the barracks. It sounded suspiciously like a fight.

Hadrian sighed, and leaned off the wall. “There they go again.” He groaned. “Day in, day out. Never stops, the little energetic blighters.” He took his sister’s hand with his own gauntleted hand. So fragile.

“But then. I should give you a tour of the Fort." He gave a little grin. “And perhaps, you could stay a while, although I won’t suggest it. The younger recruits almost never see women in the Fort. They might think otherwise. They’re a pile of softies, but they do their work well.”

Of course…. Hadrian thought. It’s the old ones I’m worried about. Plotting dastardly acts behind my back…

(ooc - this is quite short, so i apologize beforehand. There is only so much I can write what with a mute character... XD )



“Not quite.” Hadrian replied. “But in light of the situation… I knew Penril when he was a boy.” He shook his head. “We thought he was dead.”

Elmira eyed him with wonder. She gestured, meaning to say, Even the Master does not know of his origins. I think it would be good for him if we help him know who he is, such a lonely young man.

“The Fort isn’t a home. If you would cook, the troops would have to eat whatever I get as well. I can’t have privileges that I don’t deserve, and I don’t think you can cook for over two hundred recruits. I know most of them are gluttons. But if you wish, so be it then. The Mess hall is in the Barracks. First floor, kitchens are to the left.”

She was saddened lightly by that. She had been pining away for the time when she could make him one of her well-known stews. But no matter. There was always another time, given that Valleran would not take them yet before that happens. She shook her head gently.

“But then. I should give you a tour of the Fort." He gave a little grin. “And perhaps, you could stay a while, although I won’t suggest it. The younger recruits almost never see women in the Fort. They might think otherwise. They’re a pile of softies, but they do their work well.”

She smiled at that. She took her time to write down a bit.

Well, if I cannot cook for you, maybe I can postpone it for some other time. A tour would be most welcome. I missed walking with you.

She allowed him to lead her by the hand into his world.