To the Farewells and Friendships to Come

Cedric had served a small part in the funeral. 

It was traditional for a Vetr to farewell an exceptional agent, and this particular Drakonrhedi had been just that. However, that did not mean that Cedric enjoyed reminders of the frailty of the organization that he'd devoted his life to. For all their strength, they were still nothing.

And he hated being helpless.

Such were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he strode, in full black military regalia, up to the coffin. The crowd had parted to let him through, recognizing the Vetr come to pay his respects.

An eerie hush fell over the group as he stood and gazed down at the face of the agent. His face was impassive, but in his eyes, you could see the sadness, softening his normally shrewd gaze as he looked at the painfully peaceful cadaver.

There were no particular words he was obliged to say, so he'd memorized the last few lines of a Shakespearean elegy to say whenever he was required to perform this rather somber task.

"Long may thy worthiness thy name advance
Amongst the virtuous and deserving most,
Who herein hast forever happy proved:
In life thou lived'st, in death thou died'st beloved."

From inside his coat, he drew out a feather taken from the wing of her drake. It was snow white, like a dove's, but large and powerful, built like the wings of a bird of prey. The perfect duality of the Drakonrhedi, personified in the freedom that the sky brought them.

Kneeling, he carefully tucked the feather beneath her hand. A memento from her drake, to go with her wherever. Because even in death, the bond could not be separated. Anyone who had seen a drake whose rider had died would know that.

He stood, his act completed, pausing once more to look at her. So calm.

"For in that sleep of death what dreams may come," he murmured, barely loud enough for the first row to pick up on it. "Farewell."

With that, he bowed, then turned, and with a nod to the congregation, swept back out, head held high and chin up, back straight.

Always put on a good public face, after all.

Once he was outside of the crowd, he took a moment to breathe. His interest, though, was piqued by two figures to the side of the group: a certain blue-haired Tiro and a very sad-looking drake.

Cedric hated seeing sad drakes. It was the worst part of the funeral, he thought, for any Drakonrhedi. Even the populace, which usually saw the mounts as proud symbols of the organization, could understand when a drake was depressed.

The Vetr approached slowly, quietly, from behind the Tiro, coat blowing lightly in the wind. It would do no good to sneak up on the drake, as the poor thing would probably deteriorate into a terrible state soon enough. He stopped behind Anton, hands in pockets, watching the two interact with a certain bitter sadness.

One day, this might be your Tiro, and your drake. 

Ced gave a visible flinch, gritting his teeth and refusing to imagine that Puck could ever be so sad. He never wished that on his dearest companion.

”You two were amazing... I wish I could use the present tense.”

The Vetr flinched again, but not as badly. Although he was usually a joking man, Cedric was incredibly emotionally vulnerable when it came down to things, especially when those things involved drakes.

"Most people, you only have to lose one. But with Drakonrhedi, it's two...”

Ced spoke then, voice quiet and changed with the somber air, but definitely audible. "What's yet in this,
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even."

He strode forward, crouching beside Anton and pulling off his uniform's gloves. One hand he held out to the drake, and the other he stuffed the gloves in his pocket. The beast sniffed at his fingers, then withdrew slightly. Carefully, with slow and measured movements, the Vetr began to stroke the drake.

Ced knew where Puck liked to be stroked best, but there were a few sweet spots that all drakes seemed to enjoy. He employed that knowledge now, fingers moving up the drake's jaw to scratch behind the ears and horns.

The beast let out a sad rumble, leaning into the petting slightly and glancing at him. Wide, expressive eyes looked to him with sadness flowing through their irises like a river, and Ced had to swallow the lump in his throat.

Finally, the drake closed her eyes tiredly, and he was no longer forced to be silent by the beast's gaze.

"Your mentor, I assume?" he inquired, voice regaining some of its normal tone. "I thought you were Hrafnung, so she's probably not related to you." He wasn't sure where he'd picked that up. Probably when he'd glanced over the boy's file upon returning to the Drakonborg.

"Marvelous agent, however," he added quietly.

Anton soon confirmed the Vetr's suspicions. ”Yeah, she was my mentor. Was good at teaching... Even if a bit irregular at times. Helped me with a lot of things. It's quite the... Loss. For all of us.”

The Tiro's voice showed none of his previous emotion. Ced tilted his head to the side like the confuddled kitten that he was. A bit secretive, are we? I suppose it'd be painful for me to start ferreting out your feelings on such a recent death. The Vetr might've been mischievous, but he wasn't out to directly hurt people whom he happened to value at least a little.

Instead, he replied with, "Indeed. The organization shall be worse off for her loss."

That sounds about good, Ced. Leave it there, don't be a jerk.

”Mind if I ask how you knew her? I know she was a part of the Slayers, but not sure if... Not sure about a lot of your dealings, in fact.”

Cedric smiled slightly. "Oh, I've run with all the wings at some point or another. I can occasionally find use for myself somewhere, so I hop along to mostly be dead weight." He nodded. "I knew Svana through one particular mission. I like to think I helped out. As for the rest of my dealings, well..." He trailed off with a chuckle.

”The world never lets us stop, does it? What will happen to Felia?”

The Vetr shook his head rather lightheartedly. "The inexorable march of life and death and time goes on."

There was a much more pressing question to address, at least in his mind. He'd long ago accepted inevitability.

"As for Felia... well, we'll treat her as best as we can while she lasts. You probably know of how drakes have a tendency to... degenerate after their masters die." He continued to stroke the beast. "Rarely does a drake keep itself alive. I have seen a few cases where the drake will continue to guard a Drakonrhedi's family or significant other or even apprentice for a time... but, mostly, they pass on."

Cedric fell silent for a moment, gazing at the drake. Very few Drakonrhedi would approach the beasts without some pause, especially if they'd seen the drakes in battle, but most Drakonrhedi felt extremely comfortable around their companions and the companions of others. The Vetr had personally always adored drakes, although his was definitely the best.

"However, there's the matter of you to worry about." Cedric couldn't give much thought to Felia, though he would love to. As a Vetr, he had to make things were set up and that the organization didn't stall. Although he appeared to either be hopelessly busy or doing absolutely nothing, he did try his best to space things out, plan ahead, and ensure that everything was running smoothly even if he was extraordinarily occupied with his position.

"As it stands, you're a Tiro without a mentor. From what I understand, no Iduneus or Pryfektus has volunteered to take you yet, although they're often busy so they might not have gotten around to the paperwork yet. Do you happen to know of any who might be willing to take you under their metaphorical wing?"

Cedric hoped not. He and Anton would be a purely wonderful mentor-student duo. Nothing would stand in their way.

How could he tell?

Their hair.

"There's doubtfully anyone that would want to take me under their wing. Disobedience can be fixed by training. But how do you fix a broken mind? How do you fix the problem, when the problem is what fuels him?"

Cedric's first reaction was to respond with, "Well, shoot it, obviously," but he paused for a moment. Perhaps that was not the most appropriate phrase for a funeral, where he was speaking with the apprentice of a recently dead woman who had pretty much just insulted himself in an extremely philosophical manner. Yes, indeed, he needed to be much more comforting and nice than he normally was, at least until the phases of grief were over.

Before the Vetr could reply with anything, however, Anton continued speaking, having apparently taken another moment for thought. The boy certainly did spend much of his time thinking--and, from what Ced had seen, he could be quiet poetic about some very deep subjects.

"No, I have no one that will take me on as a mentor. I suppose that means I'm in quite a tricky spot -- unable to become a Iduneus without a mentor, yet what is a Drakonrhedi without their drake?"

"Well, either dead or very lonely," Ced answered honestly, but he didn't appear to think much of it. The gears in his mind were turning quickly, however, he was focused on a different subject than dead Drakonrhedi. A Vetr couldn't focus on the dead when there were the living to take care of--or else they would all having one unhappy reunion in heaven, with humanity failing or fallen and the behemoths trampling the world: a vision he did not care to have become reality.

Ced cast another cursory glance over Anton. The Tiro couldn't have been less than halfway through his training, and would probably soon be on his way to a drake and all that.

"Anton, how old are you?"

The Vetr wasn't especially good with children, but he could certainly show a Tiro how the ropes worked and how to get around. 

Anton might not be looking to go into the Stalkers, but otherwise he'd probably be on his way to the Slayers. That was a way to get out all the kid's anger, after all. Either way, Ced could line him up with missions that would be just the right difficulty to teach him what to do, even if Cedric couldn't come himself. It'd be a pity to ruin what good work Svana had already done.

"And a troublemaker, you say," Ced murmured, a the barest hint of his usual amused lilt coming back into his voice. 

"Well." He stood, and stretched his arms to the sky. "It appears to me that you're in a bit of a situation." He lowered his arms, putting his hands in his pockets to raise an eyebrow at the Tiro. "The way I see things, the best method of dealing with a 'troublemaker' such as yourself is some direct experience."

His head tilted to the side slightly, like an inquisitive cat. "I think it makes a fair amount of sense, don't you? Explore the problem, learn to tame it. Experience gives data, that leads way to knowledge, which gives to understanding, and in turn becomes expertise."

He shrugged. "It seems like a fairly solid line of reasoning. Either way, it seems fine to me, and there's not much you can do about any conclusions reached from following it. I'm a Vetr, after all."

Ced gave a grin, just a quick and cheesy one. "Anyway. I'll take you on as my Tiro. Sounds fun? Yes, sounds like a wonderful plan, Cedric! I'm glad you agree."

Anton would probably not be happy.

"Nineteen. Four months from being twenty."

That was good. Anton was fairly far into his apprenticeship. Seeing that he was skilled, Ced could probably push him out of the Tiro stage a little early, even with a schedule like his. It would be fun and games!

For Cedric, at least.

"If you insist, but I quite think your logic is flawed somewhere between release of anger equals taming of anger."

"Naw, my logic was more along the lines of 'double blue hair power means nothing can go wrong,' which is inherently perfect because of the double blue hair part."

The Vetr grinned, quite pleased with himself. This was probably a terrible idea, but all Cedric's ideas were terrible, and hey, he was still alive! What could go wrong? Hopefully Anton would learn a little lightheartedness from this entire escapade. You couldn't go taking life 100% seriously all of the damn time, it just didn't work out and was far too stressful to be worth it. One had to lighten up and enjoy oneself, especially in a job as bloody and death-filled as the Drakonrhedi. Otherwise, you went insane. Arguably, Cedric was insane anyway, but it was the fun type of insane. There was a very fine but very distinct difference.

Besides, he was perfectly capable in the field.

"She's about to be laid to rest. Come."

Oh, right right right right. He was being serious right now. Funeral and all that. Okay. I got it. Let's go.

Whereas Anton had to find his way through the crowd, the people parted for Cedric. It was one of those bonuses of being a totally serious Vetr at a totally serious funeral with a totally serious duty to the totally dead person in the coffin. He took a relatively straight path through the crowd to the front, casting an excellently planned (and excellently acted) worried glance at Anton to denote their organizational ties to anyone who happened to be watching him--which was at least two people. There were always people paying attention to a Vetr.

Yes, he was an excellent Vetr. Concerned for the devastated youth. Yes.

As much as he actually was concerned, Cedric would never show it in so obvious a way. Shakespeare had trained him well about interacting with people--subtle gestures that let people see his feelings, even though he was technically hiding behind theatrics. He hated letting his raw emotions be seen, after all. Even the thin layer of protection provided by Shakespeare allowed him to appear, at least to those who didn't know him well, rather normal.

The coffin was raised up to the flagship, which hovered above them. Normally, such lengths probably wouldn't be taken for someone. However, this someone was the chief's daughter and a prestigious Drakonrhedi. There were certain honors that one had to observe for such someones.

Cedric's gaze followed the coffin, shoulders raising and falling slightly in what appeared to be a sad sigh. It was, really. It was just, at least for him, an overdone sad sigh. More theatrics.

Svana's wood-entombed body plummeted from the ship, taking one last flight through the air before hitting the water with a splash that seemed to reverberate through the solemnly still air.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the muffled sobs of someone deep within the crowd, carried by a cold wind coming with the salty scent of the sea, ruffling the audience as if in a detached attempt at comfort.

"May she fly with our honored ancestors," the man carrying out the funeral intoned, followed by the congregation repeating his words in an indistinct murmur like sullen schoolchildren.

This was followed by the long, sad howl of a destroyed drake, dissonant on the breeze and carrying over the moor in a song of loss. Cedric gave a visible and entirely authentic flinch at Felia's mourning call.

Of course, the drake couldn't be let near the dead body. She would probably seek to protect her mistress, even in death, refusing to let anyone near the cadaver and starving herself by her dead rider's side. It was not a fate that Cedric would want for any drake--indeed, no Drakonrhedi wanted it, and thus an unspoken rule had been born: the drakes were let near the body only once, for their final farewell, right before their rider's funeral, with as little people around to minimize stress on the beasts and casualties to any attendees.

Now, however, Cedric had to attend to Anton.

He didn't doubt that the boy would be a horror when mad. The Tiro often seemed philosophical, but this was juxtaposed by a barely restrained rage that Ced had quietly sensed at some occasions. Such a rage, augmented by the cycle of grief, would most likely prove to be a bad thing indeed.

As the congregation broke up into a murmuring mass of mourners, Ced found his way over to Anton.

"You care for a drink? Or ice cream? Or whatever it is you eat or ingest?"

"Drink. And while we're at it, I have... Questions."

Cedric nodded. That seemed like a reasonable path. "Straightforward answers are not my specialty, but I'll try." He couldn't deny Anton's right to some questions being answered. So long as he didn't stray towards official secrets--but Ced had probably given him more pressing matters to worry about.

They took a brief stroll to a conveniently located nearby restaurant. ((BAM SHAMAZOO KAPOW MAGICALAPPEARIFY RESTAURANT)) Although Cedric did not discriminate against pubs, the majority of the mourners would probably be on their way there and he really didn't want to deal with the crowd right now. He doubted Anton did either. Besides, some of the answers that he might possibly have to give shouldn't be for everyone's ears, and Cedric was well and experienced with people listening in at pubs. No, a restaurant would be better. Besides, this one seemed to be rather high-quality--much more suited to the Vetr's tastes in alcohol, and he saw no reason not to offer Anton a chance to indulge.

Normally it might be a bit creepy, but this was Ced's new Tiro. Such an occasion demanded a bit of pomp. Besides, his aforementioned new Tiro's former mentor had just kicked the bucket.

Striding in, Cedric requested a private room of the waiter. Although this place wasn't nearly as fancy as his usual haunts (gourmet restaurants were hard to come upon in surface villages, even those as well-protected as this one), they still appeared to have a private room for the two.

After thanking the waiter and receiving his menu, Cedric tossed it to the table and leaned forward in his chair, propping up his elbows and interlacing his fingers before resting his head on them and raising an eyebrow at Anton.

He was quickly assaulted with a series of long, but completely necessary, questions. Indeed, as he'd anticipated, Anton was more concerned with pressing matters than prying into the secrets that Cedric kept locked in the rattly attic of his mind.

Ced paused to gather his thoughts quickly. "In regards to your first question. It'd be foolish of me to place you anywhere else. As you said, your potential lies with the Slayers, and to deny that would be to damage the Drakonrhedi as well as your chances of survival.

"As for the second..." The Vetr gave a quick chuckle. "Despite my busy schedule of alternatively messing about with people and messing with people, I will be able to make time to teach you. That's kind of the point. As you may have noticed, however, our magic type does not match; this is a small obstacle. I will find a Pryfektus who will be able to teach the level of sophistication you require, whereas I will tutor you in more theoretical aspects that apply to all fields, as well as rune magic."

Missions... Ced paused again, absentmindedly biting a lower lip as he readjusted  himself in his chair, smoothing the tablecloth with his hands.

"Well."

There was a moment's pause, and Cedric's usual joking manner leaked back into him for a moment, trickling to condense in a sly spark in his eyes.

"You can always hang out at pubs with me."

The grin faded, the serious composure returned to the Vetr.

"You have, I think, a very deep understanding of magic for one of your training level, which is unusual in and of itself. However, while your talent is obviously present and theoretically you understand the concepts, you lack much of the experience necessary for successful practical applications. As such, I'd think that lower-risk missions would first be... prudent, I suppose. I have a limited concept of your physical combat capabilities, but I would assume that Svana did a fairly good job with you."

He paused for a moment to draw breath.

"Once I see enough improvement that I can trust you to not die, I'll advance you to slightly more dangerous missions. Repeat as necessary, etcetera, so on and so forth. If you do well enough, I don't see why I can't graduate you early, if you're up to it."

"It's your pick if you choose to advance my combat magic or to work on the weaker sides of my magic. Though, the theoretical stuff should, in my opinion, be first on the former, and then we can touch on the latter as we continue. The reason being that there may be some fundamentally crucial things I am not doing, and that would make it quite hard to really advance too much, wouldn't it?"

Cedric waved a hand dismissively. "Such essential concepts were probably imparted to you by Svana. Regardless, I will review them to ensure you understand the basics and building blocks from which to construct the more advanced aspects of magic that you'll eventually need to understand. To do otherwise would be a major oversight."

He was dropping his facade, but he didn't care. Anton would have to learn about and how to deal with Cedric's less kid-friendly side sooner or later. The faster he was aware of it, the faster he could learn how to accommodate for it.

"I'm bad at illusions. Very bad. You've seen what I can do, but that's about it. I understand my magic well, but actually using it is another story. I do it by instinct, not with thought as to what I'm doing. I'm sure you can see the problem with that."

The Vetr nodded, pausing a moment to formulate a statement. His eyes, meanwhile, focused on the glass.

"From what I have observed--which, mind you, is very little--you... exhaust yourself on the less important aspects."

He leaned forward in the chair, pointing to the water glass which had so recently appeared completely dry.

"You will come to understand that I am a master of facades. Even as you see me now, I interact from behind a curtain. It's simply what my mind needs, but I won't bore you with a self-analysis. All you need to understand is that I live illusions. Not the literal kind, usually, but a farce the same. My speech pattern, my behavior... it's a whole lot of nothing.

"If there's one thing you should learn about illusions from me, let it be this: peoples' minds are amusing little things. Use it to your advantage Your illusion of the glass, for example, was fairly accurate. There were little details that were off. However, you fixed much of what was wrong--the way that the water scatters the light slightly, how it crawls along the glass--making a very nice and accurate illusion of a dry glass."

He paused, and pulled his hand away to fold them on the table.

"And it was utterly unnecessary."

The Vetr let it sink in, then continued.

"Many of the illusions you perform will be for human eyes. Learn what human eyes pick out. Will I notice the way that water refracts the light? Only if I'm looking for it. Unless under close scrutiny, you can cut corners without many repercussions."

He shrugged, picking up his glass of water and examining it, swishing the fluid around inside its vessel. "I use much the same concept with backstories. Decide a profession, decide a clan. Tell nothing else. Let peoples' minds fill in the blanks, they'll do it alright."

Ced looked over at Anton with what might be considered a petulant smile. "I'm a lazy bastard, when you really get down to it.

"Any more questions before the waiter returns for our drink order?"

"Facades are an integral part of illusions. Not necessarily because you can claim that the illusion itself is a facade, but rather that the illusion lives on the things that people see. An illusion can be dismantled if it doesn't make contextual sense, but an illusion can also be stretched if the mind being deceived is... In the proper state of mind?"

Cedric nodded. "Much like with a facade, weakening the human mind will make it susceptible with to coercion, enabling you to plant much more outlandish ideas in a person's mind. From there, they will take it, often letting you sit back and relax while they wreck the havoc themselves. It's quite nice, if you can do it right."

Anton took a moment to stare at the glass, appearing deep in thought. The Vetr was glad, at least, that his Tiro didn't need any particular urging to think deeper about things. No, Ced was fairly sure that he'd need urging with other things, but he didn't need any prodding to become philosophical.

"No more questions that are currently pertinent."

Ced arched a brow, but then the waiter came in.

"Anything I can get you two? We have Frenbard ale -- a classic of this Armfastrung village."

Ced flipped over his menu and cast a quick glance down the drinks, one eyebrow raised. Ahh, yes, there. His favorite. There'd be no need for ale today. He also already had a glass, so there was no reason to ask for water.

Wonderful. Even less work for him to do. He loved it when he was permitted to give into his own sloth in even the simplest of matters. Of course, he wasn't about to cut corners and do a shoddy job--he just enjoyed it when there was no reason to go to extensive lengths to get what needed to be done, done.

"I'll, uh. Sure. I'll have some of that," Anton answered.

The waitress smiled, nodded, jotted down his order, and turned to Cedric.

"A black tie, please."

She nodded, brows rising. "Don't normally get requests for those."

Ced gave a quick, and utterly fake, smile. "I'm afraid I have rather odd tastes."

The woman giggled. "I'll be back with those in a moment." With that, she departed.

He gave a moment before picking up conversation again. "Excellent. If those are all your pertinent questions, any other less pertinent questions you'd like to get out of the way? We have an entire meal." 

The Vetr sat back, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Personally, I think dynamic double blue hair havoc will be a wonderful happenstance." 

He was only being slightly sarcastic.