The base, a tall, flat creature of dark stone and steel, sits high on the clifftop, looking out across the smooth black lake. The wind howls here, caterwauling up along the mountain pass and out over the wide, unending vista below.

It is an unwelcoming place, and Allayria almost takes pleasure in that, pleasure in its flat refusal of warmth. It is a place of war, and it does not pretend otherwise.

Ruben seems to feel differently. He gazes up at the imposing geometric structure and frowns, distaste written across his face. But of course he feels this way; in the high winds and frigid air very little grows here.

Allayria feels a pang of remorse that it is she who has brought him to this place, away from his garden and the soft, shining sun; and shame, that he feels he must stay with her.

Weak, she thinks. Weak and failing.

"You are a Nature-caller when you are here," Ruben tells her, and she feels the comfort of his heavy hand on her shoulder. "Until it is time you must pretend to be only that. Can you do it?"

She looks over at him, stepping outside of his touch.

"Oh yes, I think I can manage."

She passes under the first archway and feels its shadow settle onto her.

"We will first meet with Beinsho, and he will give us directions to our chambers and whatever else we might need," Ruben continues on, quieter now. He does not repeat his gesture. "Then we will train."

"I understand."

The commander is mostly unchanged from their last meeting, though now he wears full military regalia, the dark burgundy of his jacket accented with silver along the seams of his shoulders and in the parallel lines of the roughly-hewn buttons running down the front. Dark pants and thick, leather boots complete the ensemble, which gives him even more of an air of rigidity and order than before.

His gaze is as searching as ever when he clasps her hand, bowing low again. 

Beinsho brings the pair up to speed on the Jarles' movements and his trip to inform the council.

"They agreed," he says with a side-eye to Allayria, "that the plan to delay your reveal is best."

He doesn't mention what they said about the information she gave him. She wonders what that means.

"There is something we must discuss before you go to your quarters," he adds, turning around and tapping a small bell on his desk. It makes no sound and Allayria stares at it a moment, wondering if the action was an impulse of mere whimsy, but then again Beinsho doesn't seem to be the type who knows what whimsy is.

"I know you plan to continue your training with Ruben while you stay here," he continues, "but there is something you will also need to work on while you are here: your guard."

"My guard?" Allayria echoes, and the corners of her lips pull down into a frown.

"You are the Paragon," Beinsho states. "There are many people who would see you harmed, or captured for their own benefit. You need someone to protect you."

Allayria's jaw locks, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling at his words.

"I appreciate the concern, commander," she manages in an even tone, "but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Beinsho considers her.

"Even the best of us has to rest," he answers. "The Paragon has a long, twisted history, and you have already made choices that do not ingratiate you to many. In the long term, the wisest course of action would be to pick a companion untethered by political fealty or partiality. Someone you can trust. Right now, you're going to have to make do with the men I can offer you."

Just then, a man enters the room. The first thing she notices is he's close to her age, tall and slim, but the flat, hard expression on his face speaks of inflexibility and humorlessness.

He could be the younger copy of Beinsho if it weren't for the vast differences in their looks. Whereas Beinsho is tan, with heavily-lidded green eyes and a thick brow, this other man, a clear protégé, is pale, his face flat and smooth, and his eyes a cold brown that peers out from under monolids.

He directs his attention to Beinsho, who then turns to Allayria.

"Your Excellence, this is Lieutenant Lei Chaudri. Lieutenant, this is the Paragon."

His face gives away very little shock, but his eyes quickly lock onto Allayria and she experiences yet again the sensation of being methodically assessed.

"Your Excellence," Lieutenant Lei says, his voice cool and emotionless as he executes a perfunctory bow.

"Lieutenant," she returns, not feeling particularly obliged to elaborate any further.

"Lieutenant Lei is an excellent swordsman," Beinsho continues, "and also an accomplished Nature-caller. He should be able to assist with your further training in addition to his guard duties."

This is the man he has chosen to guard me? Allayria thinks, taking in Lieutenant Lei's measure. A lapdog if I've ever seen one. So much for untethered by fealty or partiality.

"Lieutenant Lei is an honorable man," Ruben interjects, as if he has read the direction of her thoughts. "He was a student of mine a long time ago. I have long known him to be a man of duty and discretion."

Lieutenant Lei's gaze flits over to Ruben for a moment. He inclines his head.

"Master Ruben," he says. "You look well."

"Thank you, Lei." Ruben smiles, meeting Lei's pervasive coldness with his inherent warmth. "You too look well. I hope you have been keeping up with your practices."

"Lieutenant Lei will act as your guard while you are with us," Beinsho says to Allayria, "and he will be on the team that assists you when we strike at the Jarles."

He then addresses Lei: "You are hereby relieved of all other duties. Your first and foremost directive is to protect the Paragon. You will assist her in any way she requires and help keep her identity hidden from your comrades."

Lei looks up and Allayria catches the way his mouth briefly tightens into a hard, flat line.

"Of course, Commander Beinsho," he answers, and he inclines his head again. "It would be an honor."

"You are dismissed. Show the Paragon and Master Ruben to their quarters. They will be up in the east wing. See to it that your quarters are moved up there as well. That should afford you all some privacy."

The walk up to their quarters is a wordless affair, though Ruben picks up a tune halfway up, humming to himself as he peers out the passing windows.

The inside of base is as sparse and unyielding as the outside; everything inside it seems to be made solely for function, though as they climb farther from the central operations it bears the marks of its inhabitants. There are cracks spreading in the walls here, plants poking out between crumbling crevices, and birds sometimes flit up around the windowsills.

They pass through a set of tall, wooden doors and the lieutenant suddenly halts.

"These will be your quarters," he announces, gesturing at two doors. He holds out two keys.

"Which is the largest?" Ruben asks.

"The one on the left."

Ruben smiles.

"Ah, excellent," he says, and he takes the key to the left hand door, leaving the right for Allayria, but she doesn't take it. She's too busy staring after the round, humming man who lumbers around a spacious, but severe-looking room, ooh-ing and aah-ing. 

"This is very nice," he says, turning back to the two of them. "Commander Beinsho is a most gracious host."

"The commander will be pleased to hear it."

"Allayria, what are you doing?" Ruben has turned back to her, his brow furrowing. "You should go look at your room too. You will be living there for quite a while."

Allayria takes her key, throwing one more incredulous look back at Ruben's room before opening hers.

The room is at least a third smaller than his but equally sparse in its decor. Plain, functional cabinets stand at one end of the room, a wide but nondescript bed at the other. In the middle, set against the outer wall, is a basic desk and chair positioned so that the person seated can look out the thin, barred window toward the vast lake below.

It will do.

She sets her bag on the bed, moving forward to look out the window. It is in some ways a beautiful view, but even inside these stone walls it feels cold, like the wind that surely must be streaking past now. She can catch a glimpse of her reflection in the glass, a foreign face with familiar features, skin that was once warm, ashen. She feels more dead than alive.

She turns around and finds Lieutenant Lei there, arms folded behind his back, standing motionless and waiting.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but he says nothing still.

"Allayria," Ruben's scruffy, slightly pink face appears from behind the door frame. "We should go down and see the practice rooms Commander Beinsho has given us. He said they would be for our private use."

Allayria follows him, moving past the lieutenant as if he is nothing but wallpaper. She hears the soft patter of his feet behind her, following.

The trio walks further down the hall to a set of double doors on the opposite wall.

"This is very nice," Ruben says, clapping his hands together.

They are in some sort of small, courtyard-esque space, with a wide dirt floor and thin, reedy trees growing along the walls. The suns shine down on them through the bright glass ceiling. Large jugs sit at opposite sides of the room and Allayria instinctively knows there's water in them.

"This is the courtyard we used to train Nature-callers in," Lieutenant Lei says walking up next to them. "It is used as a practice room now that we have the large atrium."

"This will do quite nicely," Ruben muses, looking around. "And it's out of the way, you say? Yes, this is very nice..."

"There is another room on the right," Lei continues, pointing to a door tucked away in the corner. "It is a long practice room used for non-Skill combat. It will be made available for your use as well."

"This is very gracious of Beinsho indeed!"

"It certainly is," Allayria answers, but she is less enthused. She wonders what the exact price of Beinsho's generosity will be.

They unpack, and then wander down to the mess hall for dinner. Allayria notices how many heads turn in their direction as they pass the long tables, but the soldiers' attention seems to be primarily on Ruben. She, they must assume, is another acolyte.

After, Lieutenant Lei walks them all the way back to their doors, nodding when Ruben wishes him goodnight.

For her part, Allayria says nothing to him, and they both stare at one another as she closes the door. She is just relieved that he didn't insist on standing guard inside.

A/N: A full view    of the artwork,"Lei," can be found on my deviantart account here: https://asimsluvr.deviantart.com/art/Lei-714471159.