Wisdom of Ages

Sharp wings, cutting the sky and casting shadows of impending doom; claws, even sharper, not by intention but by extensive use; teeth, gnarling, made to break and tear and devour.

It is hard for Selena to forget, even as they often fought on her side. (It was a sign of the changing times, she’s realized.)

And perhaps it is the docility of her home, its tempered understanding, its peaceful wisdom, the knowledge of those who have tamed the wilds to know not to mess with its dominion—when she sees the monsters again, so far from their place of origin, the quiet part of her questions the wisdom of bringing them here; of letting them loose.

‘Docile,’ it is whispered, the creatures allowed to roam about freely. (No one has been attacked: no one gored; no one dead.) The quiet part grows louder, even though she had prepared upon hearing the noble’s intentions—

“Do you have any ideas on how we can herd them to the stables?” The words are remarkably calm—lacking even the slightest degree of restraint, perhaps Selena might’ve betrayed her insides, fallen to pieces under the weight of the very real danger that they were most likely in. Instead, she continues, voice even: “I would’ve preferred for them to keep the creatures on a leash until we arrived, but I suppose there’s only some much that can be done with an anxious—” Monster. “—beast.”

Because this was fine, wasn’t it? (No one has been attacked: no one gored; no one dead.) From what the instructor understood, they were expensive as well, and with the whole point of their assistance to this noble being in the pursuit of more funding, it wouldn’t do for the Fluorspar to do harm to the Church’s prospects.

Do not harm the monsters, she reminds herself. (The knight within amends: unless you must.)

“Food works, I suppose, but I can’t say I’m too familiar with what they like to eat…” (Eyes glance about, watching them, some walking the beach, others flying above—but not too far away! She hates to think that they might actually be domesticated.) “The island is too big to just push them away from the shore, but one could suppose if we called them over and then led them…?”

She is speaking to the one accompanying her—a taller man (with much emphasis on taller) who came on behalf of the monastery as well. Selena does not know if he carries any expertise on the matter, but even an amateur’s idle musings could inspire a viable route.

“…but those are just my thoughts.” Redirecting her eyes to meet his: “What do you think?”

But never has Dheginsea seen such creatures before in his life. Bearing the face of a wild hog on the head of a man, yet with the wings and tail of a wyvern. Were it not for its many odd features, he would have thought these were indeed some different and absurd breed of wyvern the beorcs have created..

Truly a beast that hails from lands beyond the ones he knows of, but an animal all the same. Having been left to roam freely.. as if their funding didn’t rely on leading these animals without any complications.

“They must have been let to roam with good reason.” He remarks to the light haired woman that had joined him on this job. His eyes following the ones that were hovering up above in sky, then to the ones that walked along the beach shore close by.

With how the beasts had dispersed amongst themselves into smaller groups, it reminded Dheginsea, albeit superficially, of pigeons.

“Food would be a good start. Unfortunately I can only guess as to what they might eat, or their nature, for these creatures are wholly unfamiliar to me..” Crossing his arms over his chest in contemplation, Dheginsea attention shifts for a few moments back again to the small group by the beach. Noticing a few workers that had begun to take interest to the odd creatures with little caution. As if they were stray cats more than a malformed wyverns, gesturing at them and getting closer.

The beasts don't much as startle, seemingly indifferent to the laborers. Docile.

“What I can only be certain of is that they will not startle easily should we approach.” Dheginsea gestures with a slight jut of his head toward the scene by the beach. Squinting at the workers with a slight frown. "Whether they will allow us to leash them is another matter, but it would wiser for us to work with one or two individuals at a time unless necessary...”

Should the rest of the flock follow, that would save them time. Should they not, then curious passerby's might pose more of a problem than herding the animals themselves regardless of their seeming docility.

Greil isn’t quite used to tasks as mundane as going on a shopping trip on behalf of the Officer’s Academy yet. Although, when the pay is decent enough, he puts himself up to the task. The list he’s given is such: tableware, table decor, and candlelights for tables…

Guess this is merc work nowadays.

When he stops by the store written on the note, he tries to find the nearest shelves where they keep the tablecloths to check if the make is indeed what the academy's looking for. Greil’s more used to shopping in the outdoor markets, but he figures to search on his own before asking any shophands for assistance. 

As he ventures out of the glassware section and towards the fabrics, he sees that his path is blocked by a man who’s even larger than he is, mulling over something. If it weren’t for the two other people browsing behind Greil, he would’ve just left this area and headed for another. He’s not really in a hurry. And so, he waits.

And waits…

Until the lack of movement from the other man makes him raise his brow. “... Excuse me–”

“Are you the Dheginsea? Oh… I can’t believe I ran into you here! I’m your biggest fan!”

It seems on the opposite side of the man in his way is a boy about Ike’s age, full of enthusiasm and awe. Apparently, that gargantuan man’s name is Dheginsea. Greil sees a sliver of the boy’s head peek towards his direction, and mistakenly–Greil will soon come to find out–makes eye contact with the admirer. “I-Is that your friend? Wow…” The boy stutters. 

“You're mistaken, boy–”

“I hope it isn’t too much for me to ask, but I would LOVE to accompany you two for a bit! Just to see what strong guys get up to! I’ll even help you shop! I insist!”

Greil sighs through his nose. He could use the help, and this lad probably means well, so, maybe he could entertain this for a bit...

His mistake for not having checked the list prior to entering the indoor market. Then again, a lists usually contained words.. not drawings. 

With a furrowed brow Dheginsea squints at what he can only describe as a box with a circle that has lines shooting out of it. Under it, a stick with a fuzzy end. Which had to either be a a mop or a broom.. though looked more like a poorly drawn curtain tieback-

"..?"

Hearing his name be said, Dheginsea attention shifts away from the list as he turns his head, then looks down to find a young beorc beaming up at him with bright eyes. Eyes that soon shifts to the space on the other side of him. Following the boys gaze, Dheginsea finds a man who he hadn't notice before and who the beorc had referred to as his 'friend.'

The dragon has no idea who this man is.

"He is not-" Dheginsea attempted to correct youth along side the other man. To no avail.

With an arched brow Dheginsea considers the request of the eager youth before briefly at the other beorc. "Your willingness to want to help is commendable. That said, I do not think that could assist me. You are free, however to him this man"

Stop sniveling. He had said that to him in the tower too. He hadn't even cried then. Only begged for his father to change his mind. If that counted as sniveling, if a wish for a more peaceful option was seen as weakness to this man, then he would rather be emotional than a walled off stoic idiot like his father.

"Would you listen to me for once?!" Kurthnaga is not often one to lash out, especially at his own father. Because he had long since learned that it didn't matter what he said or did. Not in Palace Goldoa's empty halls. He had always hated the silence that permeated them after both of his siblings had gone, the way that he could share a meal with his father without either of them saying a single word.

He quickly jerks away from the older dragon, suddenly no longer yearning for comfort in his touch. He continues forward in a huff, making it a point to not turn and meet his father's eyes. It was clear to see that his father was no different than he had been in the tower, that he still didn't care. He was still cold, like he always had been.

"Do you even care that you left me with something that I was never prepared for?! Or did you just think it wouldn't matter because the end of the world was coming anyway?!" It was like his father had cared more for his stupid goddess than his own son's feelings, like he still felt the same now, "Do you know how much it hurt to feel the moment you died?! Or do you not care about that either?!"

He's tired of all of this. Being left adrift with no clue how he was supposed to continue on from there. He had been meant to just simply move on - Kurth, he's gone, had been all Ena had to say - and he had, at least in that moment. But after it was all over, and he was left to pick up the pieces, he had found himself at a loss. He didn't know how to move forward like this. And no one else knew either. How was anyone meant to know?

Kurthnaga quickly stops and spins on his heel, ruby eyes pooling now with an equal amount of sadness and fury, staring up at his father in a desperate attempt to just make him look at the person he had truly been all this time for once.

Rather than calling out for Kurthnaga to calm himself or to scold him, for a moment the older dragon briefly glances at the textbook his youngest had dropped earlier. A textbook he decides leaves behind as he continues on forward.

With every word yelled, with every question furiously shouted at him, Dheginsea remained silent as he calmy followed behind. The sound of his heavy footsteps his only reply amongst the whispers from onlookers and passerby's they passed within the hall. For Dheginsea knew better than to fan the storm of emotions he can sense from within his youngest, and answer such private and nonsensical grievances out here in public.

All are assumptions without reason nor logic. Ones that puzzled him as to why his son would think of such. But when Kurthnaga spun around to stare up at him, face twisted and scrunched with frustration and sorrow. Eyes buffed red and crying still, pleading to him, begging for him to pretend to care. However minutely, Dheginsea stiffened as he felt a hole be punctured into his soul.

to pretend to care…

Pretend?

Dheginsea has never needed to pretend.

He can admit that he has never been the most.. overtly affectionate parent, but he has always cared. Always had his best interest in mind. Had given him room once Rajaion had returned home to grieve. Had changed and restructured his studies to prepare him for a future and responsibility he now had to undertake. A future that came much sooner than planned but one he had shown to be capable of within the tower…

Had he not cared about his feelings, then Dheginsea would have never not allowed the interest his youngest had shown between the Gallia and Crimea relations to have continued. Never have bothered to make time to be there with him when he could…

Cold and uncaring. Made of stone and without a heart.

If this is what his son truly thinks of him...

If Kurthnaga has to hate him for it.. then so be it.

He wont be the first.

Steely crimson eyes stare down at Kurthnaga, unflinching. Any softness his face had held as a father relieved to see his son, any slight concern he had once shown has all but disappeared amongst stony features. A hand reveals itself from under his cloak and travels to the nearest doorknob, turning it.

Briefly he glances at the hand Darios offered before rejecting it with an open palm. Not wanting to touch him. “What information I’m willing to divulge is very little, but enough should it be part of an exam...” If Darios is truly a student and has seen mentions of Goldoa in his studies, then his answer to him should not come as a surprise. But for him to have seen it in his studies...

“However, would you mind briefly telling me what you recall seeing about it?” He asks, willing to bear being in this beorc presence a few moments longer. But only a few.

Naturally, given the students that have taken residence within the monastery walls, Dheginsea knew that it would only be a matter of time before Goldoa would be mentioned to some extent. But this is rather recent, from when last he checked. And given his son's plans.. Dheginsea is unsure just what kind of information has been written, let alone learned.

The offered hand is retracted to his side and he looks up at the tower of a man before nodding. "The strength of the laguz that resided there was nothing short of phenomenal but I suppose most importantly was how little things changed. As a nation, it's...curious for it to have remained so still in all the years it existed but the specifics of how and why have eluded every book I've scoured."

Wait-- "Part of an exam?" He tilts his head to the side. "Ah, well... it is a marvel to keep things so stagnant as well as tight held."

Ah.

Dheginsea had expected something more.. cohesive at minimum. He had, after all, thought that this Darios might be a student despite his own reservations.  But now he sees the broad net that this beorc had tried to cast for what it is.

With each word vague and non-specific when describing his nation  Yet, to mention the Laguz but not say which resided there. To have carefully not mentioned The Dragon king that had ruled Goldoa since its foundation, while knowing what a Laguz is… The least offensive lie was to claim that his nation featured in multiple books as a prominent mystery.

Stagnant and tight held...

Steely crimson eyes stare intently at the odd beorc. Darios is Foolish if not bold, for Dheginsea has no doubt that he knows who he is talking to. Or at least knows enough to try and seek further information by pretending to be a student..

Why?

Dheginsea doesn't need to hear their voice to know who it was that had approached him. With a presence that does not belong to the beorc, one that is rather difficult not to notice, much less for his senses to ignore the closer he came…

Off-putting, and wrong. 

Dheginsea holds no desire to talk to this.. individual. However, finding it much too late to simply ignore the young man and walk away- out of pure decorum, the dragon turns to face Darios proper. “Correct.”

Briefly, Dheginsea closed his eyes at being reminded of that beorc game.. Of his embarrassing fall, and the shame of being bested yet again in that simple game. Not to mention that he had brought someone down with his fall. . .

Briefly he glances at the hand Darios offered before rejecting it with an open palm. Not wanting to touch him. “What information I’m willing to divulge is very little, but enough should it be part of an exam...” If Darios is truly a student and has seen mentions of Goldoa in his studies, then his answer to him should not come as a surprise. But for him to have seen it in his studies...

“However, would you mind briefly telling me what you recall seeing about it?” He asks, willing to bear being in this beorc presence a few moments longer. But only a few.

Naturally, given the students that have taken residence within the monastery walls, Dheginsea knew that it would only be a matter of time before Goldoa would be mentioned to some extent. But this is rather recent, from when last he checked. And given his son's plans.. Dheginsea is unsure just what kind of information has been written, let alone learned.