#vyana

Adrideus stares. She stares back, but with much less visible cracking in her stoic expression, so Adrideus rolls his eyes and gives up. "He's something of a cleric, and he's under my command. He's coming with us to the Isles in a week's time."

"We're sending babies to the Isles?"

"I'm twenty-seven," the baby blurts out.

"Oh Wrynn's chin, you're not even thirty," she says, in something like performative concern.

The baby squints. "Rinschin? Is that... Common?"

"Sure." She goes back to filing her nails. "We must be pretty fucked if we're sending babies to war."

"He'll be an asset."

"Of what? He's soft and he's got a bum leg."

"I—"

Vyana raises her finger and the file folded in her hand to the baby, prompting him to shut his mouth, and examines the work on her nails. "If you miss your nephew so bad, get a dog."

"Are you done," Adrideus asks.

"No," she says. "At least get him a baby harness. You're gonna make him march around those Isles with that leg? Abhorrent."

"Now are you done."

"I think so."

"Great." Adrideus breathes in, and then he breathes out. "He's Al'ara Embereye's son."

The baby, in turn, stops breathing completely. Vyana looks at Adrideus. Then looks at the baby, and stares, and stares some more.

"You're shitting me."

"I am not."

"Son of a bitch." She gives a sudden, dull laugh, her eyes briefly flashing with an amused glint. "Haha, get it—"

Adrideus rubs his face in a hand. "His job is to draw her out. She's proven reluctant to approach anyone but the Illidari, and even they're on rocky terms with each other. But Dawndwelling—"

"I got it," Vyana says. She resumes filing her nails. "So he's an asset because he's a baby."

"Yes. I guess."

She shrugs agreeably. Fair enough.

"Will you please move now," Adrideus groans out.

Vyana looks up at him, then down at the large wooden box she's sitting on. Wordlessly, she kicks her legs out of their cross and gets to her feet, filing throughout, and focuses on that as Adrideus goes about cracking the thing open in her peripheral. The baby politely stands out of the way.

He's gonna die out there. What a shame.

"What are you even doing down here," Adrideus huffs at her, as he begins pulling armor out of the box.

Smallish. Not Vyana small, but smaller than Adrideus. Must be the baby's. What's it doing in a box?

"Picking up my gear," she answers without looking. "Fucked it up squashing initiates. Gettin' it fixed."

"Of course," Adrideus says. "I don't know what I expected."

"Want me to get that baby sling while I'm here."

"For you?"

Vyana's eyes fire to the baby. The one who just spoke. When she does, he looks like he'd swallow the words and his whole tongue if he could.

"I just—" he blurts out, and shrinks. Vyana's still staring at him. "Sorry."

"Steelblaze," Vyana says, "you're gonna hate this kid."

"He's mild enough," Adrideus shrugs. "We have a mission. We'll tolerate each other."

"You're gonna fuckin' LOATHE this kid." She sounds oddly delighted. The baby looks worried. "This'll be fun."

"Go get your armor," the knight-lord snaps, waving her away with an arm.

She glances the baby up and down, and he looks so painfully confused, and if she hadn't seen him look so mortified and apologetic with her own eyes, she'd sooner believe she imagined his slip up.

"Kid," she says.

"My name is Raein," he replies, very, very quietly, with a little furrow to his brow—there.

There, she sees it. He's not mild at-fucking-all. "Are you Suncrest's medic?"

He looks very concerned about this guess. "Yes?"

"Oh Light above." She doesn't even laugh this time, but the glint is back. "Good luck, Steelblaze."

"Armor. Scram."

She flicks her file out, then back to her nails, then resumes her work as she walks away, leaving the baby bewildered beyond reason and Adrideus nervous.