#vanion

Vanion: Where on earth did you find so close a match to his real hair?

Sephrenia: The next time you go into tge stables, don't look too closely at your horse's tail.

Vanion: My horse?

Sephrenia: He was the only black horse in the stable, Vanion, and I didn't take all that much, really.

Vanion: *looking injured* My horse?

“I just don’t know what to do with those three.” Vanion, the redheaded preceptor of the Pandion Order said after dismissing three contrite novices from his office.

“I recall another preceptor saying something similar about another trio, not that long ago.” The small Styric woman said softly.

“We weren’t that bad, were we?” Vanion asked, his statement fading to a question.

“Yes.” Sephrenia laughed. “In fact, dear one, I’d say that you, Sparhawk the elder, and Dolmant had strong parallels to that set of children.” Vanion grimaced, before chuckling. Starring out the window of his office, he could see men, young and old, all under his care. That was the first of many instances where Vanion started to feel old.

“Leadership, especially of people so vital to this land, is no small task, dear one.” Vanion jumped slightly as Sephrenia’s voice sounded next to him. “Do not hesitate to seek guidance or to share your burden. I have been watching over the Pandion order for many years now, and I have a rather long memory.”

“Actually, I do have a question, Little Mother. Sparhawk is obviously the image of his father, but what does that make Dolmant and I?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I remember what punishments actually worked on us, so, it stands to reason that I could use similar tactics on those three.” Sephrenia shook her head at him before smiling.

“You might not like the answer, dear one.”

“Don’t say Martel.” Sephrenia gave him a surprised look.

“What?”

“Why not Martel, dear one?”

“That boy makes me nervous. I don’t have any good justification for it. There just seems to be something unsettled about him.” Vanion folded his arms, leaning against the wall. “I haven’t said anything to any of the other instructors, all of them praise him as freely as they do Sparhawk, but I cannot help but feel something is wrong.”

Sephrenia nodded. She placed her hand on his arm before walking back to the fire place. She quietly began the preparations for another pot of tea.

“You’re upset with me, aren’t you, Little Mother?”

“No, dear one, I’m not. You’ve simply echoed a fear I’ve carried in my heart since those boys started spending time together. For what it’s worth, I think Kalten sees it too.”

“Kalten!”

“The boy is far more observant of others than he is given credit for.”

“What are we to do then?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing!?” Vanion exclaimed, he walked towards Sephrenia, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes, Vanion. Nothing. We are only to act as witnesses at this point, I believe. Let Sparhawk grow with two friends. Don’t teach him distrust so soon. Kalten will watch his back. Who knows, perhaps spending time around them will change Martel for the better.” Silence fell over the room as Sephrenia poured a cup of tea and returned to her chair at his desk. Vanion sat down across from her. Thinking intently.

“Copper piece for your thoughts, dear one?”

“I was actually like Kalten, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Damn.”

“Kalten has many positive qualities.”

“I know, but it also means that I owe Dolmant five silver.”

Zalasta: I want to talk about my feelings.

Sephrenia: I know, Zalasta.

Zalasta: I’m sad.

Young Vanion: I just have this head ache that comes and goes.

Kalten: Kalten, Yes!!

Vanion: Kalten no.

Kalten: Kalten, Yes.

Sephrenia: Kalten, no

Kalten: Kalten, maybe?

Alean: Kalten, no.

Vanion: I adore you, but couldn’t you just hit something until you feel better?