The young soldier walked into the office with a rather martial stride. He executed a perfect salute with his fist, hitting the front of his chest plate and producing a dull, metallic sound.

His posture was stiff as he stood at attention in front of the desk, his gray gaze laid upon the Castanic lady on the other side.

“Did you want to see me, commander?” he asked in a quiet tone. His voice stood in stark contrast with his towering height and the almost permanent scowl ridged upon on his brow.

“At ease, soldier.” The woman replied with a faint hint of sarcasm, her lips slightly curved into a feral grin. “You've been with the regiment six years. You should know that formalities aren't exactly our strong suit here at the 99th.”

“Yes, my lady.” He relaxed slightly, but if not fully, and raised a gloved hand to swipe a stray strand of raven hair from his brow. “Just a matter of habit.”

“I noticed. And I told you I'm not your lady quite a few times, I reckon. Looks like we failed at redeeming you from all that pompous knightly training.” She actually laughed, then leaned back in her chair and exposed further the rather generous cleavage offered by the Castanic design of her armor.

“I'm sorry my lad... ahem... commander.” He nodded without cracking so much as a smile, and without letting his gaze drop under her chin, quite purposely. “I'll work on it more”.

“Not here, Abriael,” she replied, her words accented by a subtle, bitter tone. She opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. “You served your penalty. You're free to leave the 99th Penal Regiment today.” She paused again, her lavender eyes observing him for a moment as she bit her lower lip. “You have done well...”

Abriael tilted his head slightly. He had stopped counting the months long before, as every day of the long struggle against the Argons had been painfully similar to the one before. The only difference was the direction in which every battle raged. One day the forces of the Federation managed to gain a few hundred yards, the day after they were forced to abandon them. Every day many men and women were lost, both good and bad ones. War wasn't a very selective affair, and the Argons were the least selective of enemies.

The past six years had been the nearest thing to hell he could imagine, and his body carried countless marks from the struggle. Yet, he had formed a strange bond with the men and women of the regiment. The idea of fighting alongside thieves and murderers would have probably boggled his mind before the events that changed his life, but that didn't matter anymore. He was no better than them, and he had learned to trust them with his life, as much as they trusted him. No one had any choice.

Now, though, he did.

He looked at the discharge document between him and his commander, then lifted his gaze to her again. She had been in command only for six months after being transferred from a regular unit for disobeying a direct order. Officers didn't last long in the 99th, and commanding the regiment was far from an honor. She never shared the details of her circumstances, but he had the feeling that she had a perfectly acceptable reason. She was a good officer.

His lips curved into a quiet smile.

“Thank you, Commander.” He paused and picked up the document. He steeled himself. Despite the fact that there was no hesitation in his decision, it was still a costly one. He dropped the sheet of paper back on the desk and pushed it towards the Castanic “But I will stay.”

She gave him a puzzled look, tilting her head in disbelief, but there was also a hint of relief painted on her attractive face: “Why? I could ask you to be assigned to a regular unit, you know?”

“You know full well that no commander would want someone like me,” he replied with a brief shrig, his brow furrowing further in an acerbic expression.

“Have you really...” She paused, her gaze growing uneasy. “You don't look like a traitor to me...”

“I told you before, commander. I do not know,” Abriael sighed. The missing pieces in his memories about the events that led to that situation pained him. No effort seemed to fill that void, no matter how much he tried. “But it's unimportant. There's no other place for me in the army, and there's still a lot to do here.” His lips curved suddenly into a faint smile. “Besides, I'm no good with a plow.”

The Castanic looked into his eyes for a long moment, gray meeting lavender as she wondered what drove that man to fight on day after day. Then she nodded, withdrawing the discharge document back into the drawer and pulling out a second. “Sign here.” She pointed to the bottom of the document, pushing a quill and a pen towards him. “I hope you won't regret it.”

“I have no time for regrets,” he lied. He had plenty time. The life of a soldier was made of waiting even more than of fighting. The waiting always unnerved him, as it left too much space for thinking.

Abriael picked up the pen and dipped the tip into the quill, placing a rather elegant signature on the document on front of him. Then he straightened. “Now, if I may be excused...”

“You may,” she replied. “I will see you later.” There wasn't anything else to be said, but her gaze was a rather wild mix of emotions, meeting his apparently calm and deep eyes in which only a careful observer would notice a hint of melancholy.

“Yes, you will.” He saluted her again, just as formally as he did when he entered, and turned on his heels, walking out of the office.

This was a great read, and now I'm left with so many question! I'll have to unravel the mystery of Abriael! Beautifully written!

Hey Abriael! It was good when I reviewed it, and it's good now. Keep up the writing, buddy! ))

Oooooh, I liked it a lot.

Is there more coming? You've got me interested. :D

Quote: Oracle on 06/12/2012, 03:11 PM - view

There may be more, mostly it's just a small glimpse on the background of my RP in game though :D