The Vice Captain’s face from the night before lingered in Erith’s mind. The shock in his eyes, the way he had looked at him when he realized that unknowable force had come from Erith.

Was it wonder, or wariness, Maeric?

A bead of sweat traced down between Erith’s brows, the oppressive heat of the camp’s sifting firepits pressing against his skin.

He tested the sturdiness of the mesh on the firepits, watching the next cart of sifted earth and vegetation being loaded onto the front of the line.

Maeric’s voice carried easily through the camp, brimming once again with his practiced confidence. "Ah, Erith was it? Yes, I've been informed that you've recently taken over the firepits. Sandin has spoken highly of your work."

Maeric stood beside an officer with long blond hair on top and closely shaved sides. The man was shorter than Maeric with a thin face and a reserved confidence that matched the Vice Captain's presence.

“Rin and I were finishing up our rounds. We’re heading for a meal before we wind the camp down for the night. Would you care to join us?"

Erith brushed a bit of ash from his pant leg. After a moment, he wiped his brow and nodded. "Sure..."

Catching Maeric's raised eyebrow, Erith added with half-hearted enthusiasm, "That would be an honor, Vice Captain." The officer's lips curved into a smile, amused by Erith's forced display of enthusiasm.

"Wonderful. Finish up here and meet us by the officers' tent in half an hour. And perhaps consider a bucket of water for that ash?" Maeric added, gesturing toward Erith's soot-covered shirt with a teasing smirk.

The officer and Maeric continued their conversation as they walked toward the refinery.

Erith finished his work around the firepit, pausing when his eyes caught on a nearby bucket of water. He peeled off his shirt and doused himself, then headed back to his tent for a clean one.

By the time he stepped back out, the evening light was already fading. Maeric and the officer stood outside the tent entrance, gazing out among the sifters eating nearby the meal tent.

"So glad you could join us, Erith. Please, let's sit down," said Maeric, giving a warm smile to Erith.

The three entered the officers' tent, where a thick haze of pipe smoke hung in the air, stinging Erith's nose and eyes.

Several tables filled the space, occupied by officers engrossed in eating, smoking from pipes, and sipping wine.

Sandin's familiar gaunt face was buried behind a set of playing cards, studying the officer seated across from him.

As Maeric stepped inside, the lively commotion abruptly ceased. Boots thudded against the dirt as officers scrambled to their feet.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Maeric began, waving a hand dismissively. "Enjoy yourselves, back to business."

The three took a table near the back, close to a few stacked crates of wine.

As they settled into their seats, two sifters entered, placing bowls of hearty stew and a plate of pickled vegetables onto the table.

"You don't need to wait for Maeric's blessing." The officer inched the plate of pickled vegetables towards Erith. "Go ahead, try some."

Maeric offered a small, approving nod.

"I'll spare you Maeric's grandiose introduction," the officer added with a smirk. "Leorin Varsk—but just call me Rin."

"Were you an Academy recruit?" Rin asked, watching as Erith took a sip of stew.

Erith nodded, swallowing quickly before replying, "And you?"

"We both were." Rin’s mouth twitched, amusement bleeding into his words.

"The Captain thought it best for his son to mingle with the other 'to-be' officers. The intent was sound, and the plan might have worked—if he’d had a different son."

Rin leaned back slightly, his smirk deepening. "Our fearless Vice Captain wasn't exactly popular—not with the students, the teachers, or anyone for that matter. They used to call him 'Hysteric Maeric'. Hell, the teachers called him that too. They'd avoid him like the Murasi. Lucky for me, though, in his self-inflicted solitude, he had a knack for picking up strays."

He shot a meaningful glance at Maeric. "He found me on the streets and brought me to the Academy. In return, I helped him turn that intensity into inspiration."

"Rin, I appreciate you painting such a vivid picture of how unpopular I was for our guest," Maeric interjected, his tone laced with mock exasperation.

Rin crossed his arms and gave a teasing smile towards Maeric. "So, how'd you end up at the Academy? I can't seem to remember your face around, but with the place being so big..."

With his spoon filled with the last bit of broth in his stew, Erith glanced up to meet Rin's curious expression. "I was only there for a year before I started sifting with the Pining Frost. That was... maybe four years ago. Before that I was a stray in Aldasi, like you."

"That's a long time to be a stray in Aldarath's capital," Rin mused, "and a very short time to find yourself in the Pining Frost—no wonder you've caught the keen attention of our Vice Captain here."

Erith raised a glass of wine to his lips, giving it a cautious sniff before taking a large gulp.

His eyes widened as the sharp taste hit him, a cough caught in his throat before managing to swallow. "I'm not sure why you'd want to lug crates of this around."

"It's more of a drink you sip," Maeric chimed in, his gaze sliding to Rin's empty glass. "Not down in one go, like some people seem to think."

Sunlight pierced through the haze of pipe smoke, and once again, the familiar clamor of boots filled the officers' tent.

Erith instinctively stood, mirroring the officers around him. He turned toward the entrance, squinting against the glare as the figures of the Captain and the Warden approached.

"Sit," the Captain barked. The tension eased slightly as the officers nervously returned to their conversation.

Erith remained standing alongside Maeric and Rin, their posture stiff as the Captain and the Warden made their way to the table.

An officer stepped forward and pulled out two chairs for them. The Captain seated himself, his sharp eyes swept the table before resting on the wine glass in front of Erith.

"Have you told him?" the Captain demanded, his tone crisp.

"I was just about to Captain—" Maeric began steadily.

The Captain cut him off with a sardonic wave of his hand. "I didn't ask you to bed him, I asked you to inform him."

Maeric clasped his hands together, leaning back in his chair, as Erith kept his expression blank.

His piercing eyes shifted to Erith. "You will accompany us to the Morvathi Guard's camp. We trade goods and information with them, and your experience in the Narrows is a valuable commodity."

The Captain turned sharply to Rin. "You're coming with us." Then, motioning toward the Warden, he added, "Garst will oversee the camp while we're gone."

His attention returned to Erith. "In their camp, you will speak only when spoken to. You will give no more information than what is asked of you. Maeric says you've taken well to overseeing the firepits. There's a place for you among the Surelians if you carry this out well..."

The Captain edged closer, his voice sinking to a low growl. "And a shallow grave if you misstep."

Erith met the Captain's stern gaze. "If I disappoint, might I suggest the Vice Captain be the one to put me in that grave?" His eyes shifted to Maeric. "It would be a good learning experience for him."

A beat of silence passed around the table. Rin stifled a grin, while Maeric's appearance turned to a mix of surprise and intrigue.

The Captain rose swiftly from the table. "We'll ride in the morning, once the camp settles into work."

With that, the Captain and the Warden left the tent, leaving an unspoken tension lingering amongst the three.

Rin stretched, giving Erith a faint grin. "Well, I think I'll wind down for the evening. Looks like we've got a full day ahead of us." He turned to Erith with a thoughtful demeanor. "I look forward to talking more with you."

"Tomorrow morning then," Maeric added with a slight nod.

Rin was the first to leave, disappearing into the smoky air of the tent.

Maeric inched closer to Erith as they left the tent, his voice dropping just enough for Erith to hear. "I hope this little detour doesn't put a delay on the start of our training."

Erith gave Maeric a wry look. "Not at all. An hour past the last firelight. No need to bring wine—or a bed."

A faint smile tugged at Maeric’s lips. "I'll do my best to meet your expectations."

The two parted ways as the last light of dusk stretched across the tents.

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