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"Oh, him." The servant looks from one to the other — a motley group of people — and frowns with sympathy. "I'm sorry, he's not here anymore. I can let you all in, if you'd like, though he was taken away about a week ago, and the room's been cleaned since." Fishing out a ring of keys, the servant unlocks the door, easing it open and lighting some of the candles before heading in and drawing up the curtains. "See? I'll go get something for... um, her."

 

As the servant leaves the room again, Chin nervously steps inside, both apprehensive and curious about these human dwellings. She stands near the doorway, glancing around, otherwise keeping to herself.

 

The room is sparse, simply standard quarters within the castle — what one might expect a handmaid or a guardsman to live in, perhaps. It was better off than a simple servant's quarters by sheer fact that it was a private room, but nothing lavish. As the servant had said, it looked like it had been cleaned recently, and whatever trace of someone living here, however briefly, had been removed. The sheets are smooth, the pillows replaced, the desktop and walls bare.

 

"Was this man important to both of you?" Chin asks the others after a moment.

 

-----

 

A pause lingers in the air a few moments after Fallon finishes talking. "Intriguing..." Caim muses, one hand on his chin. "You don't usually get scholars coming around interested in things like that. You're a specialist of Druidic magic, I take it?" He looks at the tome in Fallon's hands — just a Flux tome, but he appeared knowledgeable of brands outside of that as well. "That's uncommon." Many mages who looked into chaos magic tended to find that school of study crude, citing that the focus on dismantling and countering specific compounds or types of weaponry went against the pure-hearted and unbiased pursuit of knowledge that scholars should stand for. 

 

But here this man is. Not only a Foen-educated scholar, but one with ample battlefield experience too, if the eyepatch is any indication. Something tells Caim that he's no mere academic, raised among a brood of like-minded students in a traditional academy. "I'll need you to be a little more specific if I can help you, I'm afraid. What are these 'subsets' you want accounted for?"

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Rhian took a deep breath after the reveal of the room and its lack of Wing Commander. She exhaled slowly, then spoke.

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"Something like that." So he wasn't here. Disappointing. "We were trying to find him, but it seems we'll need to keep looking." And of course the room had been cleaned, so that there wouldn't be any traces of him or where he had gone left behind. The fact that he was being treated to a room like this instead of the dungeon was concerning, too. Had the bastard decided that what he'd done wasn't enough, and thrown in with this lot? 

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"A specialist?" Fallon asked, raising an eyebrow and thinking about it for a moment.  He knew there were those that only studied one field of chaos magic, but that had always seemed short-sighted to him, even if his studies were focused on Druidic at the moment."No, I wouldn't say that. I've just taken an interest in a field that is rather underdeveloped. Can we really call ourselves seekers of knowledge if we only stay between the lines of what's expected of us?" He let that question hang in the air as his mind raced to Caim's next.

 

He wasn't exactly sure where to start. He had never actually gotten this far with someone since he returned from Foen. Though he supposed - and hoped - that it would be easiest to start with the entry point already provided by chaos. "For now, I'd like to start simple. Chaos magic already provides an advantage over Anima, and the Druidic variant intensifies this through Black Fire. As such it would likely be the easiest to further break down." he said, grimacing when he said the name. That terminology would probably have to be changed. "Doing so would involve targetting the Anima subsets, Fire, Wind and Thunder on their own. Any information on their weaknesses - even just historical accounts of major or extreme usage - or their interactions with Black Fire would probably help." his expression shifted to a scowl briefly as he said "Thunder" but it was replaced with scholarly calm again in an instant. He really needed to stop doing that. 

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At his maneuver Kris just gave Argos a visible "really" look. What was the boy thinking he opened himself up to all kinds of attacks no wonder he kept getting knocked down. Sighing and shaking her head Kris just flipped a knife out and sent it flying butt end first straight at the boys head as she just quickly jumped back to be just out of reach of his attack.

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A wan smile seems to flit across Caim's face at Fallon's words about the pursuit of knowledge. He can see they're earnestly spoken, and yet... Well, all that doesn't matter anymore. Still, it brings something to mind... and as Fallon keeps talking, expanding on the kinds of things he's looking for, Caim can't help his thoughts from continuously returning to the same picture. He stands there for several long seconds, mulling over the proposition, an odd quiet stretching out between them considering how much he'd been jabbering so far.

 

When he speaks again, it's thoughtful, rubbing at his chin with one hand, a rather intense look furrowing his brow behind the large circular glasses. He doesn't meet Fallon's eyes, though, rather resting his gaze contemplatively down and off to the side. "Hm, hm, I understand... in fact, I wonder— no, no, never mind. This isn't the place to get into that." He waves a hand quickly, as though dismissing an irritant.

 

"This is going to be an odd question, but humor me. Fallon? Fallon. Do you know anything about... the undead."

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Plunging his sword into the dirt, the lad went back into a squatting formation. Then immediately after and without hesitation he jumped once more. One could mistake for the boy as a frog by this point. However, this wasn't just another leap. He kept grip on the implanted sword's pommel he does a front flip, going above the thrown dagger. He could catch a glimpse of the small blade going under the top of his before planting his feet into the ground, right foot forward, quickly moving his hands onto the grip of his blade.

 

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His muscles tense up before he pulls it from the ground, bringing up dirt and grass chunks,  "hhhhhhhHHHHRRRRRRRGGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" His battle cry sounded forward as he brought down his sword with all his might over his shoulder and right in-front of him.

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As Argos brought his sword down Kris just quickly moved forwards under his swing clearing the distance between them even faster then she did at the start leaving him unable to move his sword in the close quarters. Once she was next to him Kris looked up at Argos with a frown before she snaked a hand up around to his shoulder using it to swing herself around to deliver a knee right into his back as she brought a knife up and rested it dull end on his neck. "I thought I told you to not stab the cutie into the ground." She said to him without her usual joking tone.

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Just as the boy was beginning to enjoy himself Kris pulled something quite unexpected. Man if Kris could do something like this the whole time, why didn't she do it from the start? As he felt the chill of metal on his throat and the serious tone of the user he gulped, his adam's apple going underneath the blunt blade, before responding,  "Heh heh... really funny Kris, you can let go now. I think this joke has run its course."

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Ceridwen took in the room — it certainly didn’t look like the terrible, all-encompassing miasma of death and decay and filth and misery that the dungeons had been, so she derived some comfort from that, but the room had been cleaned recently... Ceridwen didn’t quite have the evidence to know just what had happened to him here, then.

 

Ceridwen only managed to nod shakily at Chin’s question before frantically asking a question of her own to the servant.

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T— taken away? Where did he get taken away to? What was his condition when he was taken away??”

 

So she would be left to be terrified until whenever... if ever... she found him, then, would she...?

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As it was, Ceridwen asks her question to thin air — so absorbed was she, maybe, by scanning the room that she'd failed to notice the servant's note about leaving to find clothing. Fortunately for her, the storage rooms hadn't been far, and her voice had carried enough through the open doorway that the servant had been able to catch most of it on her way heading back. 

 

"I don't know. I didn't see him before he left," she replies as she walks back in, handing a bundle of clothing to Chin — they're just standard issue servant's garb, made of simple cotton, but certainly an improvement from the bloody rags she wore now. "We don't really get told important stuff like that. I'd guess the only one who knew is the General. But, well..." She trails off with a matter-of-fact look on her face.

 

"I did find this again though. It was left behind when this room was cleaned, and I remember that they couldn't figure out what to do with it. And then we all got so busy with all the fighting going on, I think we just forgot about it." She passes over a hefty ledger to Ceridwen, old, obviously well-used, covered in soot stains so permanent they might as well be part of it. The buckle had worn through and no longer fully closed properly, and some patches had been worn off the soft leather cover. The pages were almost full, with only a few at the end that were still blank. Most were covered in various drawings — blueprints for armor designs, it seems. One of them, dated a couple of years ago, detailed various drafts that closely resembled the armor Ceridwen wore now.

 

"Not sure if this'll help, but it's something."

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Of course, Ceridwen had already long had suspicions at this point as to who Milich had captured. From the moment she’d heard that it was a Mid-Wing Commander, she’d worried about the possibility that it was him who had been captured. When she had been told his physical description, her worries had been shocked into a near certainty — the chances that it was some unknown new mid-wing commander that just happened to resemble him were very low. And yet, irrationally, she’d held out hope.

 

But when a very familiar ledger was passed into her hands, soot stains she’d seen get baked into the paper as she stared over broad shoulders as a child, drawings she’d commented on and had seen made, the buckle she’d accidentally been the one to break trying to be helpful with the ledger at 15, an incident which had seen her panic but be forgiven relievingly quickly, the preliminary work on the very armor he’d sent her off with with well-wishes when she’d graduated... Ceridwen hugged the thick book tightly to her chest and her breath came out quickly and shortly, her eyes burning as she tried her best not to cry.

 

There was absolutely no denying now that the identity of the captured Mid-Wing Commander was none other than her mentor, Gareth Jernigan.

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Rhian stared at the tome for a long moment, face unreadable. It settled into a darker version of her normal scowl, and she waved a hand irritably at Ceridwen. 

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"Do you mind saving the waterworks for later? We still have to report back." There was an unusual strain in her voice, her words grating slightly. "And she still needs to change," she said, jerking her thumb towards Chin. Rhian was concerned about the laguz, but right now she also served as a convenient distraction from what she was being confronted with at the moment. 

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As they spoke, Fallon saw Caim change for the second time that night. He'd gone from the angry defeatist, to the enthusiastic scholar, and now to...this. He wasn't sure what it meant, but it was certainly strange. By normal standards anyways. As he looked down to the floor, he mumbled something that Fallon didn't quite hear - and then asked a question that caught Fallon off guard. The undead?

 

His eye narrowed. They...weren't a topic just known by any scholar. Even in Foen, discussions had been hushed and infrequent. He hadn't even seen one himself to prove their existence, though somehow he knew they had to be real. 

 

He mulled it over for a bit before responding. What little he knew about them wouldn't be something to speak of lightly, even if he had never seen one. Caim probably knew that. But it seemed important to him. "A bit." he said, choosing his words carefully. "Not much is taught of them, even in Foen." Thinking a bit more, he continued. "Listen, Caim. I think....we both know you're more than you let on. Two people with that type of knowledge, meeting here, in Caliss? Where rumors of them are even less than rumors? The odds are practically one in a million." It certainly wasn't something he expected to be asked, at least. " What....exactly do you want to know? I doubt I'd know any more than you do." he said, hoping it was the right answer. 

 

 

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Kris pressed the knife deeper into Argos' neck "I not joking." She said seriously before she pressed her body against Argos' back "Next time I see you abusing your cutie like that I'll put ants in your bed or something like that." She said teasingly.   

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Having done all that she could, the servant spares one more glance at the group before making her exit. A somewhat uncomfortable silence descends, punctured only by the soft sounds of Ceridwen's hiccuping breaths. Chin stares at the bundle in her arms, then looks up and around the room when Rhian finally says something. "Don't worry. I will find my own way. If the General is dead, then I can go back to my village when I can fly again." She sounds a little faraway, as if she still can't quite believe yet that she had made it out alive, and is now free again. "You... should look for this commander who is so important to you."

 

-----

 

Caim doesn't seem at all surprised by Fallon's confusion or response. "Taught? I should think it wouldn't be taught. No... in my experience, it's always been something more of a... rural folktale, if it's known at all." He sounds somewhat wistful, but then shakes his head emphatically at Fallon's next careful words.

 

"No no no, don't misunderstand me. I'm not trying to get anything from you. I asked because there is someone... who might have some answers for you... might. I spent most of my career looking at the Ancient branch of magic... although that was back when... well, anyway. Of course, you're welcome to look around our stacks! Who knows; you might find some jewel around here that even I forgot we had. I'm always forgetting we have things around here... Er, sorry, I was talking about... yes, someone you should look for."

 

His expression grows more serious again and he takes out a piece of paper and a quill, hurriedly scratching a name down. "She's capricious to say the least, but..." He thrusts the parchment into Fallon's hand; the writing is scratchy and a little messy — a librarian's scrawl, for sure — but legible. "Sierra Andon. She comes and goes, never stays in one place for long, but if you're lucky, you might catch wind of her somewhere. She's the only person I can think of who's done anything close to what you're talking about. Even if you find her, she might not help you, but—" he gives a shrug, "—take it from me, it's probably your best bet."

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Fallon looked on wordlessly as Caim rambled. He still didn't understand what any of this had to do with the undead, but if this Sierra person could help him, it was worth a shot. Though something he had said in the middle echoed back to him. Studied the ancient magic branch before what was probably the war....wasn't that like...?  he thought as he rustled around his robes until he eventually pulling out the letter he found in Kiba Windamier's Flux tome. 

 

""For many years, you've asked me to support your studies in magic, and I was unsure. I suppose I was always worried that a second Matthias would find his way into our family. I hope this tome is enough as an apology. I have known no better son.""

 

"Thank you Caim. This breakthrough could mean a lot for....my studies." he said, extending his hand to let him see the letter "But there was one more thing that came to mind before I go off to the stacks.. You said that you practiced Ancient magic a....time ago, correct? Would you happen to know anything about the Windameir family and their relationship, with it? I came across this in an ancient magic tome that the old general had when we....well thats not important. " he cut off. Best not to get into other generals when he had reacted so strongly to Millich. "More specifically, who was this Matthias person? What happened to him? And why was the general carrying this when his son would have been miles away?"

 


 

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He listens keenly to what Fallon has to ask him, a bemused expression crossing his face about halfway before he was finished talking. "Yes... we'd heard that the Allied Guard had been sent to deal with the escaped prisoners from Soniere..." He gives a heavy sigh at that and holds up a finger. "Remind me to say something to you about that before you go. Or get Marsilia to tell you, since what I'm about to say is—

 

Who doesn't know about the Windamiers? Were those the years you spent in Foen? I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't know. Unless you're one of those sheltered Knights." He peruses the letter briefly, lips pursing in apparent sympathy before giving a nod. His hand moves to rub deeply and slowly against his temples as his brow furrows. "Where to even start..." 

 

Another long several seconds pass before he can gather the pieces of what seems to be a long story.

 

"I don't know how much you know about the Windamiers. Though I guess if you don't know about Matthias, you don't know much. If you'd spent any time in Caliss at all before the war, you'd know they were the finest military family in the Empire. Generations of Windamiers served as military advisors to the Rugner Dynasty, and the family produced a number of the Five Generals over the course of history. Respectable lot. The kind of people it was hard to dislike. Hardworking, honest, loyal. Kiba Windamier was Barbarossa's Minister of War, but when the Court Witch Windy took over things, she did her damndest to further Barbarossa's madness by separating him from those closest to him however she could, so she could totally control him. That included General Kiba. Unfortunately, it wasn't hard for her... Matthias was the General's elder son, Klaus'—" He waves the letter to indicate the same Klaus the epistle is addressed to, "—older brother by another mother. Much older. I don't think they knew each other much. By the time Klaus was born, Matthias had already distanced himself from his family... to study chaos magic."

 

Caim rests a hand against his cheek. "I don't know the details of it. But I know that he's much of the reason chaos magic had such a bad name in those years. I'm certain it had nothing to do with the magic itself — as you know, chaos magic has no inherently 'evil' properties, as some fools claim; it dissembles and breaks down; it's anti-matter; it deconstructs, reduces matter to its natural state, and that doesn't mean that it's vile." Caim pauses and seems to realize he's gotten off topic. "Ahem, sorry. At any rate, whatever befell Matthias — everyone has their theories — he became a monster. To say he brought shame to the Windamier name is putting it lightly. He became... the basest of humans. Utterly rotten to the core. Obsessed with control, drunk on having power and getting more of it. For several years, he..."

 

Another deep breath, and Caim shakes his head, more somberly this time. "... Here is where you ought to ask Marsilia for more of that story. In any case, not much has been heard from him after the war. He would have to be... in his thirties by now. Marsilia tells me there's rumors here and there of a wild-looking bandit who seems to fit his description, committing these brutal murders... but to be honest, bandits do that all the time." He shrugs. "Anyway, with Matthias' infamy in those years, it was easy for Windy to convince Barbarossa that General Kiba couldn't be trusted. Of course, to have his family branded traitors to the Empire would mean ruin for them, or worse. General Kiba had disowned his son well before that, but only actions spoke to Barbarossa at the time, so he had to demonstrate his loyalty by fighting the Witch's war."

 

He looks down at the letter again before handing it back to Fallon.

 

"But from what I know, the General did make a deal in secret to protect his younger son in case the worst should come to happen to him and the Empire lost the war. The prestige of the Windamiers is a decade lost now, but Klaus has been..." He heaves another sigh. "I really need to stop running my mouth about this before Marsilia has my head. Ask her if you want the rest of the story. Honestly, it shouldn't be mine to tell."

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"P-please don't," He did not like how close she was getting, which was making him a little more than uncomfortable.  "and seriously let go. I don't even see the problem of fighting the way I want to. How bad can sticking a sword into the ground really be? Legends do it all the time, so why get all grabby all of a sudden?"

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Fallon listened to the story, but the only responses he gave while it was going on were brief nods. He really had missed a lot while in Foen. Word of the war did get there, of course, but...the newcomers weren't exactly the most reliable sources. Chaos magic having a bad name here was something he thought of more as cultural differences than the result of one person, but he supposed it checked out. A power few understood left in the hands of a man gone mad like Matthias....well, it made sense that people would fear it.

 

Though that made him think.  A hunger for power - willing to brutally kill for it at any cost - he knew someone like that. Too well. But that had nothing to do with chaos magic, as far as he knew. He rubbed his temples as the red-haired sneering face flashed in front of him, until it disappeared again. No, that wasn't chaos magic. Just a man without morals that had somehow attracted a cultlike following.

 

Taking back the letter from Caim and tucking it into his robes with the other one that was just written, he walked over to the stacks once more. "I believe I will. Thank you again, Caim. You're a true scholar, despite first impressions." and then he smiled. It felt strange after so long, but -just for that moment- it felt like he was back in the middle years of his time spent in Foen, studying under the greybeard with Naomi. He never forgot what happened then, but it was the best distraction he could have asked for.

 

Making his way back to the front of the library, he kept his eye out for anything strange. Caim had said something about a gem, hadn't he? When he got there, he cleared his throat and got out the letter again.  Best to be direct about this. he thought. It seemed a touchy subject, and that had worked well for him before. "Marsilia? There's something else I want to ask about. Caim wasn't able to explain the ending. The Windamiers...he told me about their history with ancient magic, and part of what happened with Matthias. It came up because of this letter. You can read it, if you'd like."  he said, holding it out to her. "What exactly happened to Klaus?"

 

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"Really?Its rather comfortable here though." Kris said with a laugh before she hopped off of Argos. "Well for starters on the practical side of things, stabbing a sword into the ground is going to dull the blade, scratch them up and chip them. On the none boring side they just don't like it. How would you like to get shoved into the ground all the time cause someone thinks its cool." Kris said a she twirled around to look at Argos. "Now for the matter of your fighting." She said holding up a finger  "You leave yourself to open in your attacks. If i was actually trying to kill you I could of done it multiple times in that little skirmish." She said giving Argos a smirk. "You have good speed, power and instincts but leaving yourself open will just lead to you getting yourself knocked down or killed and your not always going to have someone around to heal you." 

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"Despite first impressions?? What in the hell is that supposed to—" For a moment, Caim is back to the somewhat vesuvian librarian who had warily watched Fallon from behind the desk, but there isn't much real fire to his words, and he subsides quickly to grumbling. 

 

As Fallon leaves and makes his way back towards the library's main foyer, though, his expression lightens, and he lets out a sigh, removing his glasses and fishing a cleaning cloth out of his robes. "A true scholar, hm? Well, better so late than never, maybe."

 

-----

 

Finishing with writing up a list of tasks for some of the nurses gathered around her, Marsilia turns when she hears her name. Standing at nearly six feet tall, long, dark hair tied back in a low ponytail more to get hair out of her eyes than for beauty's sake, Marsilia had stood out among the crowd when Fallon had first walked in, but now it seemed even more so as the fear of Scarleticia's fall and uncertainty of their own fates had begun to peter out of the castle's staff. She had a rough, angular face, with a stocky, muscular frame that suggested it would take more than a stiff wind to knock her over. The axe resting blade-down against the side of her leg supplemented that, as did a stern expression and an authoritative voice that carried despite not being very loud. The other servants seemed to naturally gravitate to her for help and instruction, not unlike worker bees around a hive. It was difficult to pinpoint her age — she looked like she could be anywhere from her late twenties to her forties.

 

She quickly goes from neutral to something more sour as Fallon keeps talking, and the mention of Matthias has her pursing her lips as her eyes drop to the paper in his hand. Silently, she takes it and skims it over — once, twice. Then she looks back up at him, evaluating.

 

"Caim told you about them?"

 

She pauses, apparently to chew on that for a bit. The next word she utters is muffled under her breath, but likely wasn't something of approval. Her annoyance doesn't seem to be directed at Fallon, though; she regards him carefully, but curiously, arms folding. "You said you're a scholar, right? I'm curious — I know the Allied Guard was sent after the Soniere prisoners, so I figure that's how you got this. But what kind of scholar goes poking around in personal family history? Looks like Caim's told you a lot already. Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

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Marsilia's question gave Fallon a few moments pause. Who...am I? Now that is a question, isn't it? Truthfully, he hadn't given it much thought. Not since the incident. He had always known who he was before then, but now....? His head throbbed with things he had tried to forget. Was he truly the earnest scholar he wanted to be now? The hardened veteran his face betrayed him as? No, he knew there was something more there. Deeper. And when he faced it head-on, he didn't particularly like it.

 

Taking a deep breath and shelving those thoughts for later, he responded. "I am a scholar, as I said. Though storming a castle with a bunch of knights would make me odder than my fields of study, I would think." he said, hoping it would come out like a joke, but it sounded humorless to him. "If you must know, I was educated in Foen in the art of chaos magic, and have been traveling to study it. That's why I'm with the Guard. It has a way, of....finding people. And the knowledge they keep. Though whether or not that's a good thing depends on who you ask." It was true, for the most part. The Guard had led him to a lot of discoveries....and people. As much as he'd put off talking to them. "As for your family history, it relates to my studies. Chaos magic has attained a...bad name here, while I was gone. And it seems like Matthias was directly involved. I initially only found that letter, but it coming from a Flux tome held by a man with no magical abilities had me curious enough to ask about it." he stopped to clear his head for a second before returning his attention to the conversation; it was getting harder to focus as questions of his own existence slowly crept back in. "..I just want to know what happened with the magic, assuming it had a part in all this. Maybe we can prevent it from happening again without the masses demonizing it entirely."

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"You may have a point about the dulling and chipping, weapon maintenance is a pain..." The lad groaned,

 

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"But obviously you just can't appreciate the 'Invoker' technique! What you saw was my own personal sword fighting style! Created 100% by me! It combines both strength and speed, but most importantly... Style! What's the point of fighting if you don't stand out among your peers? Heh heh heh..."  

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After he finishes, Marsilia exhales through her nose, shaking her head. "All that, and you manage to say almost nothing about who you are. It's impressive." He'd said he's a scholar, which she already knew, and that he's traveling with the Guard to 'find people' and the 'knowledge they had'. To keep something like that so vague says a lot in itself. "I can respect having secrets, but then you can't be too disappointed when no one else wants to tell you theirs, either."

 

She uncrosses her arms, resting one hand on her hip. "Dark magic — or, chaos magic, whatever — isn't really the bogeyman it was anymore before the war. There were plenty of people who fought in it who helped fight the stereotype Matthias set up. If you ask me, people are so quick to jump on it because it's uncommon. Compared to anima and light magic, anyway. Or 'order' magic, as Caim would correct me. But what am I telling you that for? You probably know all that better than me, being a scholar and all."

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Realizing he was backed into a corner, Fallon sighed. "What...exactly do you want to know? I'm afraid there isn't much to say other than what I've told you. I was born here, in Caliss, and later went to Foen to study when I heard the war was brewing. Like I told you before, I'm not terribly fond of battle, even if I am good at it." The whispering voices he had quieted before entering the library briefly returned at this, but he shook his head and kept speaking to tune them out.  "I came back at the end and helped clear some bandits and the like to hone my combat abilities, since I had to learn those somehow....,but I wouldn't call that important. My search for others experienced in chaos magic led me to the guard and....now I'm here." he said. It was thorough enough and almost entirely true. "My studies currently revolve around the Druidic branch of chaos magic, which involves targetting specific things and breaking them down. The current techniques can only break down general objects, weapons mostly, but I think we can hone and intensify it to use it for other purposes. It's just that Druidic is often looked down upon among students, and even in Foen there is little information that could help me do that. So, like I said, Ive been traveling. Finding places like this. And people with connections to chaos magic, like the old general and Caim. The latter even gave me a lead!" his voice rose in excitement at the last statement. He wouldn't admit it but he did actually find the prospect exciting. It had been so long since he knew what - or who- to look for. The guard was more a lucky break than anything. Calming himself, he cocked his head quizzically. He told her more than he had anyone for a long time, and now he was really curious about that story. 

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