He snorted in amusement, and then offered Soren the jug of water. Apparently content to disregard manners he must have been brought up with, Soren grabbed the jug, and downed a good deal of the rest, panting by the time he finished. “I didn’t think I was so thirsty, until I started,” Soren managed to get out, with a sheepish smile.

“The feeling was mutual,” he said quietly, sitting back slightly, resting his hands in his lap. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t expected any sort of company as a prisoner. The scrawny one- Aurem had trouble remembering his name- had seemed intent on taking at least one of the mages. But Turuk had apparently stopped that. For how long, Aurem didn’t know. Turuk had seemed in charge, but Aurem had no idea how the Undari camps functioned. There had clearly been tension the day before, after Aurem had been dragged out. No one but Turuk had attempted to stop the bastard from punishing him. Even if, as a prisoner, he might have deserved it from the Undari’s point of view. Aurem sighed, hating the more practical side of himself. Life would be much easier if he couldn’t see the reasoning behind other people’s actions. To just blindly be able to hate, and take his own side.

“How long have we been here?” Soren’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Aurem sighed softly.

He had no idea, honestly. “Probably a few days. We were both knocked out, and I only woke yesterday. You had a fever, and then…” he paused, realizing he hadn’t explained everything, and took the next few minutes to tell Soren what had happened.

Soren sat there, incredulous for a few moments. “He let you use magic? But I thought-”

Aurem nodded. “So did I. But, that’s what happened. You could be a lot worse off. Both of us, really. Trust me, I loathe to admit it of an Undari,” he said, shaking his head, “But I have a feeling it could have been worse.” More than ever before, Aurem was glad he was a mage. It probably placed them a bit higher than other prospective prizes. Even if the Undari really did fear magic, it would have been something to bring two home as captives. Useless, like a bird with clipped wings, they could be shown off for status. Or whatever it was that Undari got from having Delfin prisoners.

“Despite everything, I’m starting to believe you,” Soren admitted with a sigh and ran a hand through his fine, black hair. As it shifted, Aurem caught the shine of blue in his hair. So, raven black, rather than true. Not that it particularly mattered, but it was something to note. “But we still have no idea what their plans for us are. This…Turuk. He truly commands the silver beast?” Soren’s eyes widened, a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Something like that,” Aurem said, though it seemed somehow wrong to say Turuk commanded her. There seemed to be a mutual respect, even affection between the two. She was protective of him, as she’d poked her head into the tent the night before to keep Turuk safe. A mere wild beast wouldn’t have done so. “She seemed glued to his side, in any case. I’ve heard the Undari treat the wolves as family.”

“Truly? So, not as a pet, or a lesser. But an equal,” Soren mused curiously, his green eyes flashing with a desire for knowledge Aurem recognized in most mages. No matter how much one had been taught in the Tower, there was always more to learn. “Interesting. There are so few of them, though. I wonder how many wolves there are. Does every Undari have one?”

Aurem blinked, and then shrugged. “I don’t think so,” he said idly. He recalled more than one jealous glance at Siira, as Turuk and she stood together. “I didn’t see enough wolves for everyone here, anyways. Though I didn’t see even half the camp.” There had only been a dozen the day before, and Aurem doubted that was all that was left of the group that had attacked the camp.

“So this Turuk must be something, to have a beast like Siira with him,” Soren said, and then sighed.

Aurem echoed his sigh, and then nodded. “That’s about what I’ve come up with myself. His word is followed, even if some don’t agree with the orders. So he has some leadership.”

“So, if we ever return home, we might bring them some knowledge of the inner workings of the Undari society.”

Aurem snorted softly, but nodded. “If is a big part of it,” he said, and then sighed once more. “But yes, we would bring them back something new. I don’t know if the generals would listen to two mages like us, though…”

Soren seemed to deflate a bit, but then sighed. “Perhaps not, but they might,” he murmured, not seeming confident in his own words. “Still, we would have to survive this, to even get that far.”

Aurem sighed. “I’m more than certain our army believes us dead. Or worse. Whatever is left of it anyway. Aurem shuddered, remembering the scent of iron, and the screams. As many battles as he had seen, and Aurem wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it. Death, in such high numbers was hard to witness even after so many years of being a battle mage. Death was only natural; but that much at once was purely a human occurrence. Whisking locks of his pale hair away, Aurem couldn’t suppress a grimace at the feel of it. His scalp was hurting, even, something he hadn’t thought possible until now. Caked with dried blood, and gods knew what else, he must have made a horrifying sight. Soren’s own hair was too dark to see if there was any blood.

When healing the younger mage, he hadn’t felt any head wounds, but that didn’t mean anything. Someone else’s blood could easily have dried the black locks. Aurem sighed, and then pulled his hair back a bit tighter, and re-braided it. He had no cloth to tie it with, so eventually the brain would loosen. But for now, his long hair needed to be contained. He caught Soren looking at him, and then blinked slightly, lowering his hands to his lap. He couldn’t say why, but he felt a bit embarrassed at being caught fussing over his hair.

“It must seem terribly vain to see me concerned about my appearance at a time like this,” he drawled out, and then gave a sharp sigh. Well, being thought of as vain wasn’t the worst he’d heard.

“Maybe a bit,” Soren conceded, but when Aurem glanced up at the sound in his voice, he saw a smile on the mage’s face. It felt odd- here he was, in the middle of the enemy camp, and he was having a conversation. If Aurem was honest, it wasn’t unpleasant at all. He felt his face relax a bit, and managed a faint smile. And then he sniffed lightly.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard far worse rumors about me,” Aurem snorted at the look on Soren’s face, knowing he’d hit the nail on the head. He waved Soren’s sheepish look away, and grunted. “I’m used to it. Most of the rumors are spawned from jealousy. Some are true, though,” he added quietly, smirking faintly at the brief look of fear on Soren’s face. “Not the one’s about drinking blood, though.”

Soren managed another sheepish smile. “I confess that might have been one of my worries,” he said quietly, and then paused, eyes shifting downward. Interest sparked in Soren’s gaze, and Aurem followed his gaze to his own wrist, and hand. Ah, the markings. “Are you really covered in them?” He sounded incredulous.

Aurem snorted. “I wouldn’t be the only one, Soren. But yes, quite of bit of my body has the markings.” He sighed, wishing he had his oils, to keep them in pristine condition. It wasn’t like they would show any signs of wear- they would remain the same no matter how old and decrepit his body got. They wouldn’t show signs of age, or even wrinkle. They would just go on, imbued with the magic ink, shifting over his skin as he used his skills.

“Did they hurt?”

Aurem considered that a moment, and then hummed faintly. “Some of them more than others. But it gets quite relaxing, if you have an expert helping you.” He saw Soren’s expression shifting, and frowned. “This is something they should have taught you early on, though, Soren. Was it neglected in your lessons, or…?”

Soren flushed and then dropped his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of his dirty shirt. “I uhm, might have not bloomed until late. They tried to cram everything important in quickly,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aurem’s eyes widened, sitting up straight. “They sent an untrained boy into battle!?” He could hear his own voice go shrill, and immediately clamped his mouth shut. Anger burned in his stomach, glaring at a particular spot on the tent behind Soren. “Utterly ridiculous. Have they gotten that desperate…?”

“I wanted it!” Soren blurted out, and then his pale skin flushed further. “I-I asked for it. I felt foolish, being in classes with younger kids, and…”

Aurem sighed, and then pursed his lips. “There is no shame in blooming late, Soren. My powers didn’t come in until I was a teenager. And look at me now,” he lifted a hand, and gestured. “And besides, they were adults, they should have known better than to throw you into battle. Honestly, what were your parents thinking?” His own had been nonexistent, in his life, but he couldn’t imagine that of a boy like Soren.

“They were mad, but they had no say,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping. “But I’m the youngest of seven children. I have nothing else, even if my family is wealthy…”

Aurem sighed, and then studied the mage for a moment. Like this, he seemed so much younger- closer to the age he actually was. “In this case, I believe your parents were correct. Soren,” he started, and then sighed. “I suppose it’s too late now. But if we ever make it back…”

Soren shifted awkwardly, but finally raised his eyes once more, pretty green eyes locking onto his own. “I’ll teach you everything you don’t know. Though your parents might consider that more dangerous than the battlefield,” Aurem said, forcing a smile on his face.

He saw Soren return a hesitant smile, which strengthened after a moment. “If we make it through, I would be more than happy to.”

Aurem nodded, and then grabbed the jug of water, and took another sip from it, glancing around the tent. “We can start with figuring out exactly what the Undari want from us. As I said our actual captor doesn’t seem to have any current nefarious plans…” he shuddered though, remembering the look on Geran’s face, as he looked to the tent. He would prevent that from happening no matter what. Especially to Soren. “But that doesn’t mean anything, for the future. And not all of them feel the same.”

Aurem sighed. Everything was too complicated. And somehow, Aurem knew running away would not be so simple. It was perhaps the only time in Aurem’s life he wished he had skill in something other than magic. Embarrassingly, it seemed to be the only thing he was good at. Well, that and a few other unmentionable things. Aurem snorted at the thought, and then shook his head, focusing his attention back on Soren, who seemed to be drooping with fatigue.

“Sleep. I might have been able to heal you, but your body still needs rest. Listen to it, because fighting against it does nothing. I’ll wake you if something changes,” he offered, seeing the stubbornness in his eyes. Soren finally grunted, and Aurem reached out, helping him lay back down.

He felt a bit silly, as he tucked the mage in. Like some sort of doting parent. He hardly knew the mage. But he supposed being in a situation like this with someone made it understandable. He sighed quietly as he watched Soren quickly fall into slumber, slightly envious of that skill. As of late, though, he vaguely recalled falling asleep that quickly from pure exhaustion. Though Soren had mostly slept since the battle, he was no doubt still exhausted. Even healing could only do so much, and nothing could heal emotional wounds, or true fatigue. This was his first battle, and probably the first time he had taken anyone’s life. Let alone everything else happening to them. He was young, and seemed naïve.

Sighing, and stifling his sympathy for the other mage, Aurem shifted away, and started to look through the boxes in the tent. He might as well do something to occupy himself, and getting a better idea of what he had around him might give him some ideas. He doubted there would be anything useful, but it at least gave him a distraction, however momentary it might be. It mostly appeared to be furs, and animal skins, along with a few tools. He made a mental list of everything he found, figuring that they wouldn’t be interrupted until the next time they were brought food. As sad as it was to feel this way, Aurem could only be glad he wasn’t in this alone.