Written Wonderland

The commander followed after the messenger into the tent, and Mizu encouraged the individual to make themselves comfortable. She only had three chairs, but they would do.

Once she and the messenger were seated, she waited for them to begin, which they graciously did.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Yusel of House Kapor, a noble in King Shabuleth's court. The king sent me as soon as he was able. We were all unsure whether you would be able to accomplish it, but all the affected men woke up at once early this morning. They were still coming around when I was sent here, but we are confident they will make a full recovery. I requested to serve as an ambassador to give you the news. The king is drafting documents to secure the alliance as we speak."

Mizu listened to the noble's words, stunned. She blinked a little slower than usual once but otherwise did not allow her surprise to come across her face. Ponderance had informed her that the goddess was alone, but she had no idea what that meant for the Shel'ti. If they had already been released, then... did Mizu need to send volunteers at all?

The commander spared one glance at Lance, grateful that he had been playing along up to this point but also concerned about how this might change things. If Lance wasn't leaving tonight, would she still want...?

But they had matters to attend to now; that could wait for later. And, besides, renegotiating their deal with the goddess was beyond risky at this point, even if the goddess had, for some reason, jumped ahead. Perhaps she was simply so confident in getting the volunteers that she wasn't concerned? Or perhaps Evan was just... doing a good job with her? But, then again, she had released the Shel'ti without Evan's knowledge of it. Why?

Mizu had no idea, but she wasn't about to express any of that to a noble of House Kapor.

After a long moment, she said, "Do you know approximately how long that will take?" She didn't want to appear overeager, but... they had secured the alliance. They had numbers enough to defeat the king. Maybe everything really would be all right. She didn't want any more of her men to die. She didn't want this cause to be for naught. And now, maybe, it wouldn't be. She tried to calm herself down, but color certainly rose into her face and an echo of the goddess' shimmer moved through her. They had done it.

"Two days' time should be more than enough. The king would like you to sign the documents in person, as is our custom. We look forward to helping you overthrow your tyrant while we reclaim our contested territories. A mutually beneficial exchange, really." The commander nodded, wide-eyed. She could hardly believe it.

Yusel continued, "This whole situation, though, did certainly have our best scientists baffled. We would be forever grateful if you could tell us how it is you did it. So many of the noble houses were afflicted. My own brother..." The noble turned their face away for a moment, a moment of grief passing over their face.

"I was the first to volunteer to be a representative once I heard he had come around. It's been three weeks since he fell ill."

The commander didn't know how to respond. She knew very well how badly King Shabuleth had responded when she had discussed the goddess initially. And how could Mizu say that she was trading the nobles for a little short of a dozen of her own men?

Mizu looked at the noble for a long moment, her mind frantically searching for a response. She had the thought that Captain Kade would know exactly what to do in this situation, but he wasn't here.

Realistically, though, if all the men woke at the same time--from a great distance--what else did they expect other than a supernatural cause? The commander sighed.

"To be honest, we sought out all possible solutions, including the one that ultimately worked. We spoke with the old woman who sought an audience with King Shabuleth, the priestess of the goddess King Rorrim outlawed worship of, and we spoke directly with the goddess. One of my captains arranged a trade that she agreed to. In exchange, she released your men."

The commander knew it was a risky approach, but she didn't want to outright lie, and she was genuinely trying to adjust to a world where gods were... real. Her nation, once it fully established itself, would be constantly grappling with their relationships with the gods, and the Shel'ti might, in fact, need to know and respect that. She felt uneasy presenting them as a religious nation, but... maybe they were in the end.

The noble was taken aback for a moment but then became thoughtful and looked down at the table.

"So, it could have been a coincidence, then?" It sounded as though they were asking a genuine question and not trying to put Mizu down, but again, she wasn't immediately sure how to respond. She supposed that was true--it could have been a coincidence. But... Mizu herself had talked to the goddess through a possessed man.

The commander spared a quick glance at Lance, not necessarily asking him to say something but mostly trying to get a read on the situation.

((OOC: She will respond quickly if Lance doesn't, but she's thinking.))

Lance followed Mizu and the messenger into the strategy tent, starting to ease into the excitement of just being in the room for something like this. Whatever this was to be.

They all took their seats, and after a moment, the messenger began, starting with an introduction and flowing right into the fact that all of the affected Shel'ti had awoken this morning. Lance's eyebrows shot up again, though he tried to keep his surprise muted in his eyes. Weren't they trading soldier like Lance for those men? Was it just already that done of a deal, or had something gone awry? Would it be a problem if the goddess had acted expecting them all to show up tonight?

The messenger--Yusel, he'd said--spoke of the Shel'ti king drafting up an alliance, and Lance's heart trilled with the glow of victory; externally he kept his calm smile, but some extra warmth did brighten it, as if suddenly looking at a friend instead of a stranger. Glancing to Mizu, Lance could swear he caught hints of color on her face, perhaps recognizing the feeling of the goddess' shimmer in the edges of her expression. This did feel like a tangible victory, bringing the promise he'd felt so potently in that shimmer that much closer to reality. The worries of his offering pushed aside for now, Lance felt a thrum of pride and elation about the part he was to play in securing this win in the long run.

Mizu and the messenger casually discussed a couple details of the alliance--seemed that in exchange for the Shel'ti's help overthrowing King Rorrim, they would be reclaiming territory from Asphodel. Lance felt a tiny pang of defensiveness in his heart--at the end of the day, he did feel some abstract sense of fealty to his kingdom, even if it sometimes surprised him, and it hurt in some small sense to give up territory. But, it seemed thoroughly worth it, and anyway, he'd stayed out of the political minutia to this point, so it was hard to wrap his head around the tangible details, anyway.

Then, the messenger started asking about how they did it. He talked about scientists, and Mizu replied a bit obtusely, building up slowly to mentioning the goddess, and only just mentioning a trade without spelling out any details. Lance's calm smile couldn't help curling just slightly in amusement--maybe awkwardness--as he wondered how absolutely batshit this might sound to anyone who hadn't felt that shimmer firsthand. A weight of sorrow briefly settled in his heart as he wondered how much of their own kingdom would even believe it. Surely the commander would at least find a way to spin the volunteers into heroes in some way or another, but, Lance realized, on some level, he'd been banking on some kind of prolific tale about him going to the goddess being his legacy in this kingdom, and it was a bit demoralizing to wonder if the tale would even stick; it took some effort to keep his expression upbeat, but he managed.

Even after Mizu mentioned the goddess explicitly, Yusel reached for the idea of a coincidence, and it pained Lance somewhat.

"May I say something?" he asked Mizu--the commander. He was already leaning forward in his seat, his eyes looking to her with an eager question in their openness. In a more impulsive mood, he might have charged ahead with his thought without this pause of friction, but it wasn't lost on him that this was the commander of their rebellion and a noble messenger of the Shel'ti king.

Mizu was grateful when Lance recognized her invitation and even more grateful that he asked to speak before he did. Given the Shel'ti customs, surely this noble would appreciate Lance demurring to his commander.

The commander nodded at Lance subtly, and though she was nervous about what might ultimately come out of his mouth, she said, "Yes, please, Lieutenant Holloway. You are free to speak."

Lance's smile widened when the commander acknowledged his rank; he hadn't realized he'd been wanting that, but once lieutenant rang in the air, he felt a fresh buzz of confidence in his chest, bolstering him as he returned his gaze to Yusel.

"Please understand, I have never been a god-fearing man," Lance began with a shrug, letting a bit more of his arrogance show in his expression and posture, in an honest effort to share of himself with the noble.

"And when whispers of ghosts or spirits or demons or what-have-you started percolating through camp to explain our own fallen men, I laughed them all off. Even--maybe especially--when a goddess entered those whispers, I preferred to believe that the fallen men had simply gone mad from the horrors of war, and that gossips were grasping at straws to avoid accepting that grim reality, or just fabricating diversions from it. But then, this morning, a great dome of sparkling mist formed in the sky."

Lance gestured up into the air with his hands, his eyes following, recalling the sight from that morning with genuine awe spread across his expression.

"It rained down on us, and such awe filled every soldier in camp that my words can't possibly do it justice; it will take poets lifetimes to describe."

Lance brought his hands back down to his lap, his gaze returning to Yusel with a bit of a sheepish smile.

"I don't expect to convince you of all that here tonight, but at least know that I'm not the only skeptic in this army who's turned believer on this very day. I don't think there's a soul in camp who would tell you that anything about all this has been a mere coincidence."

((OOC: Obviously, if Mizu would interrupt any of that, let me know. Meta-Lance didn't feel like pausing to invite her to do so tho lol.))

The commander tried not to tense too many muscles as Lieutenant Holloway began to speak, but she did nearly crack a smile when he started out of the gate with "Please understand, I have never been a god-fearing man." He shrugged, then, and Mizu could not deny that he did have a strange, albeit frustrating, allure as he spread his shoulders apart and fully looked the part.

"And when whispers of ghosts or spirits or demons or what-have-you started percolating through camp to explain our own fallen men, I laughed them all off. Even--maybe especially--when a goddess entered those whispers, I preferred to believe that the fallen men had simply gone mad from the horrors of war, and that gossips were grasping at straws to avoid accepting that grim reality, or just fabricating diversions from it." The commander felt as though he were describing exactly Mizu's experience of what had happened over the past couple of weeks, granted with a different flavor than she would have chosen. She had clung so desperately to the idea that it was all superstition because, to believe otherwise...

"But then, this morning, a great dome of sparkling mist formed in the sky." Lance's hands curved upward above him, and one corner of Mizu's lips did quirk up ever so slightly. He certainly was an entertaining storyteller, and the commander would not have been able to do this part of justice, especially because she had asked the goddess for the display herself. A light coloring came unbidden to the commander's cheeks.

"It rained down on us, and such awe filled every soldier in camp that my words can't possibly do it justice; it will take poets lifetimes to describe." The commander thought of how she felt in seeing the shimmering purple dome above them, the gratitude, the awe, the sense of victory, not so unlike what she felt upon learning that the Shel'ti were already drafting documents for their alliance.

"I don't expect to convince you of all that here tonight, but at least know that I'm not the only skeptic in this army who's turned believer on this very day. I don't think there's a soul in camp who would tell you that anything about all this has been a mere coincidence."

The commander ultimately appreciated the lieutenant's account, even down his somewhat exaggerated language. Mizu doubted she would have been able to muster the same, and she could see ways in which her lack of embellishment could easily have been construed for ambivalence or even falsehood. But, everything Lance said was true.

The commander looked at Yusel of House Kapor, an eyebrow very slightly raised in curiosity. The man seemed to contemplate even more deeply than before. Finally, he raised his eyebrows and his hands in what appeared to be defeat.

"I don't think our scientists will find that a very satisfying answer, and I'll be honest in saying that I don't intend to be forthcoming about telling it to them." He put his hands delicately on the edge of the table and spared a glance at first Lieutenant Holloway and then at the commander. "But, there are some things even our great scientists can't explain. And, hearing you both so openly talk about this... I will admit that I am inclined to believe you. Or, at least believe that something beyond our understanding is in play."

Yusel's comment could not help but tug at something the commander had, several days prior, said to Evan when he begged her to consider the possibility that the old woman--the priestess--might be right. Mizu really did owe Evan an apology. That much was clear.

"Well, I believe my task here is done," Yusel said in the wake of his own silence. "Although, I would be so grateful if you wouldn't mind putting my entourage and I up for the night. It is such a terrible tempt of fate to travel at night." Yusel added a wink to Lance to this last comment, and Mizu's smile faded. He was, lightly, making fun of them, the commander thought. And then, looking at Lance...

Just as Yusel stood from the table, the runner the commander had sent earlier arrived, coming in with permission and awkwardly carrying three plates of food. The commander lamented again that they did not have much more than fruit, venison, a few measly greens, and a lump of hard bread, but it would have to do.

"Ah, yes, a meal would be most welcome!" Yusel said, nearly prepared to sit back down again, but then he stopped halfway down to the chair and stood again. "On second thought, would you mind if I ate with my company?" The commander was surprised. It was unlike a Shel'ti noble to reject eating with a high-ranking official, but Mizu deeply respected what it must mean about Yusel's care for his entourage. And, it was possible that their conversation had shaken the man.

The runner looked at Mizu in confusion and fear. "It's all right," she said, looking at the boy, "set two plates down here and ask Captain Kade if he is willing to host House Kapor and his entourage. And see to it that their horses have plenty to eat."

The runner looked down at the third plate in his hand as though he didn't know what to do with it. Before Mizu could speak, the noble piped up and took pity on the boy, "Here, I'll bring that with me. A little nibble for the way there. I'll follow you, my boy."

Standing and looking at Lieutenant Holloway sharply to indicate he should do the same, the commander bowed deeply as the noble began to head toward the tent flaps. "It's been a great honor to have a member of House Kapor as our guest. I appreciate the news and the special interest you have taken in us."

"And it has been a great honor to behold the commander who made the difficult decision to rise up against existing power. I will remember this. All of this. Thank you." And, with that, he was gone.

Lance tried to keep his expression cool while Yusel contemplated on what he had said. Oh, his grin was still sheepish, but that was nothing compared to the roiling surf of anxiety that arose in his stomach as the meaning of what he'd just said sank in to him. He'd called himself a believer. He supposed he must be, to be planning to offer himself to a goddess; to be puzzling on how exactly he could worship her. Ah, but perhaps that was the real anxiety: to have re-upped his stake in her without having a plan to go with it left him feeling like he was grasping at thin air trying not to fall.

But, he held himself steady, if still with the same sheepishness in his grin.

"I don't think our scientists will find that a very satisfying answer," Yusel finally spoke, "and I'll be honest in saying that I don't intend to be forthcoming about telling it to them."

Lance shrugged, mirroring the noble's gesture of raising his hands lightly in defeat. Lance really had just set out to convince this one man, he supposed; he hardly expected the man to go proselytize to his own nation, having not experienced that shimmer himself. Still, Lance supposed he hoped there would be a way to convince people without needing that shimmer, but that was a contemplation for those who stayed behind.

"But, there are some things even our great scientists can't explain. And, hearing you both so openly talk about this... I will admit that I am inclined to believe you. Or, at least believe that something beyond our understanding is in play."

Lance could live with that. Oh, something about the man's words stung a bit, but not in any way that Lance wasn't perfectly used to. The lieutenant gave a soft nod, gratitude replacing the sheepishness in his expression.

Yusel announced his task done, and tossed Lance a wink with a comment about tempting fate, and a thrill danced down Lance's spine. The noble might have been making fun, but in a way that Lance thoroughly recognized, and he could not say he was in any way displeased. Delight and flattery bloomed up through Lance's body, and he just might have tempted fate with his next comment, had a messenger not asked permission to enter the tent.

The distraction was enough for Lance to catch himself, a brief bit of vertigo washing through him as he reminded himself that the commander was still right next to him. Still, he could not help raising an eyebrow to Yusel, both sheepishness and gratitude replaced in his smile by a downright sultry glee.

The messenger entered with the food the commander had sent for, and initially, Yusel exclaimed gratitude for the meal, but then hesitated. Lance's stomach did somersaults, contemplating the logistics of breaking bread with two high-ranking individuals he felt called to flirt with and then wondering what gave the noble pause. Yusel asked about eating with his company, though, and Lance was able to settle a bit: he respected a leader breaking bread with his people, and at the end of it, he was ultimately glad to just juggle the one flirt tonight--assuming he hadn't already bungled that in these past fateful moments.

The commander bid the noble leave to eat with his company, and made mention of Captain Kade hosting the entourage, which seemed quite sensible. Lance had almost let himself fade into the background, when the commander stood, and shot Lance a look that pointedly invited him back into attendance at this very important meeting, rather than wherever he had momentarily wandered off to in his mind. Lance stood in short order, and smoothly mirrored the commander's bow towards Yusel as the noble began to take his leave.

"It's been a great honor to have a member of House Kapor as our guest," the commander said, "I appreciate the news and the special interest you have taken in us."

Lance had mostly regained his more professional countenance, but couldn't help a soft smirk in the shadow of his bow about the special interest Yusel had taken. But of course, he had taken a special interest in their cause--had volunteered personally to come and deliver this news, and to make his inquiries and understand first-hand what had happened. Still, Lance was not one to pass up any opportunity to smile about a flirtation, though he hoped that no one else in the room took notice, at least this time.

"And it has been a great honor to behold the commander who made the difficult decision to rise up against existing power," Yusel replied, and Lance felt pride and a warm relief bloom in his chest, glad that that was the angle Yusel viewed them through. "I will remember this. All of this. Thank you."

By the time the noble had gone and Lance and Mizu stood again, Lance was nearly drunk with the many-faceted excitement of the encounter, and that much showed plainly in his expression as he turned back to the commander, though an edge of sheepishness crept in once he did.

"Nice to have some good news," he said honestly, and his expression relaxed into a more serene sort of smile as he leaned into optimism that Mizu wouldn't get stuck on whatever small flirtation had transpired between him and Yusel if Lance himself didn't dwell on it, and he was resolved not to.

The commander let a long, slow breath out as she watched the noble leave. That was certainly not at all what she had expected for tonight, but there was a giddiness about the whole encounter Mizu could not deny. She felt leaps and bounds of joy threaten to push their way out of her stomach, and it took a great deal of control to keep them at bay as she smoothly shifted to look at Lance. He also looked stunned or maybe even intoxicated with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, not to mention an unsteadiness on his feet. She did allow herself a small smile. The two of them were alone again.

"Nice to have some good news," Lance said, and she couldn't disagree it. It was almost too good to be true, and some suspicious part of her wanted to pick apart all the ways that this might be some kind of a trap. But, no, it felt authentic, if odd.

Needing to give her body something to do before she gave into the impulse to... what did the flip-flops even want? dancing?... the commander walked around the table and gracefully picked up the two plates of food, walking back to hand one to Lance and settle herself at the table. She took a slow bite of the venison, allowing the familiar taste--under-seasoned, somewhat tough--to roll around in her mouth, and tried not to think too much of what Yusel would think of the food. Swallowing, she looked at Lance, at the brightness she could still see from having recently sparred, at the arrogance that still graced his features for having witnessed such an event of gravity, and she could not longer hold it in. The commander began to laugh.

It was a light, sweet, exciting sound, one that made the flames from the candles in the room dance, and though the commander quieted quickly, her mirth continued to be plain on her face. Collecting what she could of herself, she held a hand just above her lips as though to obscure her mouth and said, "Ah, but it's far too early to celebrate yet." She shook her head, then, looking down at her plate of food and pushing the greens around.

Lance watched as the commander moved gracefully around the table to pick up the plates of food, a lightness in her step that sent happiness fluttering through his chest. She brought the food back to where Lance still stood a little bit awed by it all, and handed him a plate. His smile grew wide and crooked as he accepted the food, a delighted nervousness bubbling up within him. He-- he really was eating a private dinner here with the commander--with Mizu.

Mizu dove right in, taking a bite of the meat and seeming to pay close attention to the taste. Lance looked down at his plate, momentarily contemplating his own attack, when Mizu began to laugh, and he returned his gaze to her with wide eyes, his smile bright across his face and colored warm with a delighted surprise. The commander always seemed so serious, but this laughter seemed to pour from Mizu so easily, effortlessly and full of grace, dancing through the tent with the flickering candlelight around them. It was beautiful, and made him think again of dancing beneath the sky as a young boy, nostalgia and mirth both clinging tightly to his chest in the wake of the brief reverie.

The commander quieted smoothly, her hand coming demurely to her lips before she said, "Ah, but it's far too early to celebrate yet."

Lance's smile grew crooked again, this time with amusement.

"Well, what ever shall we do, then?" he asked, managing with some effort to muster some disinterest into his tone as he looked back down to his own plate and poked at it a bit. His expression said loud and clear that he was delighted to be here, though; his eyes hovered on the edge of his plate to keep Mizu in his periphery, and his skin was visibly warm, buzzing with elation and some shade of nervousness. For now, he'd managed to set aside his fears about worshipping the goddess tomorrow, and had declared for himself tonight to be a very good night, even if it were to end right now, the echoes of that laughter still shimmering in the air.

"Well, what ever shall we do, then?" Lance asked after a moment. The commander spared a glance at him again, dropping her hand now that her expression had returned to stoicism except for a warmth and softness she couldn't rightly control. The lieutenant's smile was certainly genuine, crooked up at the corner, though his eyes stayed stubbornly on his plate. And so, how should she answer such a question? It wasn't as though she had especially planned for this moment, what they would talk about over dinner. She only knew that it had been far too many nights in a row alone, and far to many days left to make difficult and costly decisions.

Finally managing to collect some of the greens onto her utensil, she ate meticulously, giving herself a moment to ponder. She rolled over their previous conversation in her mind, reminded how it seemed possible that he could have danced in front of her, or even for her. She curtailed a fantasy of him doing so here and instead remembered their conversation about worship and how she had told Lance about the goddess' visit. In this very tent, no less. The commander shook her head and took another bite of her meal, unbelieving.

She could talk about how she worried about the Shel'ti noble, how she wondered what Evan was doing right at this moment with the goddess, how Ponderance somehow knew to create a communication device. But those were all things she wanted to set outside this conversation. She wanted to, eventually, get back to worship with Lance, if that was possible. She wanted to worship this moment with him and all it might hold for them.

Compromising with something that landed between business and what was personal, Mizu finally said, "The goddess let the Shel'ti captives go early." She paused for another beat, looking at Lance again with her strict posture. Turning toward at her plate, she said quietly, "I cannot imagine why. I suspect we won't know until Captain Rutliff returns." The commander paused again, color coming onto her cheeks. "And, until then, I have pleasant company."

Lance finally took a bite of his own food when silence continued to ring in the air, Mizu either mulling over his question thoroughly or simply in no rush to respond. Although a nervousness began to bubble up in his chest, he supposed he could lean into simply enjoying their food together, no need to put conversation on a pedestal.

Of course, just as he'd started to settle into that thought, Mizu finally spoke.

"The goddess let the Shel'ti captives go early."

Lance raised his gaze to her, taking in her strict posture and stoic expression. He couldn't help feeling a little disappointed--were they to return to Commander and Lieutenant so easily? Or, was this just also part of Mizu?

For now, Lance simply nodded, his expression a bit more serious than his default as he acknowledged the gravity of that revelation from the conversation with Yusel, though his eyebrow also quirked with an extra curiosity as he wondered what specifically the commander made of it. She looked back down to her plate.

"I cannot imagine why,” she said. “I suspect we won't know until Captain Rutliff returns."

Something about that drew concern into Lance's chest, though he didn't let it show in his expression. Chewing his food helped with his poker face, anyway. Maybe it was just the aimlessness of the comment--it seemed like maybe Mizu was holding something back, or just genuinely that uncertain where to go with any of this. He started to relax into the latter possibility as he studied Mizu's expression further, finally noting warmth in it, and perhaps even a bit of extra color.

"And, until then,” she added, “I have pleasant company."

So, no, surely she didn't mean to retreat to simply being his commander, then. But what did she want? What did he want, to be fair?

Lance took another bite of his food, nodding thoughtfully and deciding it would only be fair to let Mizu stew in silence for a moment while he took a turn mulling things over and savoring his food.

"I keep imagining what Evan must spend his time with her doing," Lance finally said once he finished a well-savored bite, but kept his gaze down on his plate again, his grin pleasantly crooked.

"How any of us might spend our time there. There's plenty of stories to draw from, of course, but none of them make much sense of Evan coming back in one piece, much less as genuinely devoted to her as he seems to be.”

Though, maybe Evan wasn't quite in one piece, thinking back on the moments that the captain had faltered today. But that wasn't really where Lance wanted to go with this. He raised his gaze to Mizu a bit coyly before he spoke again, wanting to see if he could at least catch a glimpse of how this line of conversation was landing.

“He told us volunteers that she will redefine how we think about pleasure.”