Tactical Issues (Crack/ Hurt/Comfort, PG)
“Serra and Erk, I’m sorry that it seems to be his presence that’s nullifying your magic, but ‘that weirdo tactician’ happens to be my very good friend, and his tactics have saved my life and those of my friends several times over,” said Lyn. “If just being around him repulses you that much, I’m afraid we’ll have to part ways.”
The pink-haired cleric shook her head, backing away slowly. “No offense, Miss… Lyn, was it? …but something about him creeps me out. Like, ew.” Serra shuddered. “And, life-saver or not, the priestess in me could never let me hang out around someone whose very presence obstructs St. Elimine’s blessed intervention.”
“My God, that’s the first time I’ve heard you sound pious the entire time I’ve been escorting you. You must be even more affected than I am.” As the cleric squawked in protest, the purple-haired mage turned back to Lyn, the touch of amusement fading from his face. “But, in all sincerity, Miss Lyn… It’s not just the magic - doesn’t every nerve in your body feel like it’s stretched to its breaking point in his presence?” Erk shook his head, his wavy hair swaying around his face. “I thought it was just some foulness in the air, but it grows worse the closer I stand to him…”
Lyn blinked, glancing over at the tactician, then turned back to Erk with a frown and a shrug. “I - I think I might have felt something at first, but I’ve gotten so used to him being around that I can barely remember what that was like. I suppose those who have joined us did act odd at first, but they all adjusted within a few days. …To be honest, I thought maybe they just hadn’t had enough to eat recently. But if whatever it is puts too much strain on -”
“It does,” the mage interrupted, then winced and looked embarrassed at his rudeness. “I - I’m sorry. It may be different for those who don’t use magic, but, for me, it’s like - I’ve both lost a sight and - and like, every minute I spend in his presence, somebody’s rubbing a chunk of rough, splintered bark up and down the back of my neck -”
“Good grief, why didn’t you say so? If that’s the case, I don’t blame you for wanting to part ways! I had no idea you were in such - Sorry?” She turned to discover that the tactician had come up behind her and was tapping on her shoulder, holding out a slip of paper in his other hand. “Oh! I - I’m very sorry, Erk - if it’s all right, and you have a moment -”
This close to the man, Erk had blanched a greenish-white and was teetering on his feet, with Serra in better physical shape but looking as though a giant, shambling pile of refuse had just squirmed into her presence, splattering rot and unnamable ooze upon onlookers with every sludgy movement. Fortunately, as soon as Lyn took the slip of paper from his hand, the tactician withdrew with his signature uncanny speed and headed away from the three of them, leaving the air a little lighter. “My apologies for that - I didn’t expect him either, he can move astonishingly fast when he decides to do so,” Lyn said, giving Erk an ashamed smile; after a few seconds of the mage showing no sign that he knew she had spoken, she wondered if she wouldn’t be better off giving him a Vulnerary. “But, you see - he’s mute. He can only communicate through writing in the dirt, and he doesn’t seem to have familiarity with any written language that I or anyone else in my party knows. So, even though we’ve traveled together for a while, I have no idea of his background or his name.”
Erk faintly nodded, beginning to breathe normally again; Serra, beside him, lightly bonked him on the back with a Heal staff, but to no avail. Under the tactician’s influence, the mystical stave was no different from any other stick with a stone stuck to the end of it.
Lyn cleared her throat and continued, holding up the slip of paper. “However, he’s indicated that his name is written on this slip - but nobody in my group, including me, can read a letter of it. Since you’re a scholar, I suppose he hoped…”
Erk frantically nodded, looking as though he’d agree to eat a live rat whole if that would let him depart from the tactician’s proximity in peace, and held out his hand for the slip. Lyn handed it over without delay, and the mage looked down at it, his brow furrowing.
“It’s - this is a language used in some very old Elder Magic tomes,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning over the glyphs. “Why would he only know… Er, anyway. What it says is… Kish… u… na. …Doesn’t that mean… firstborn?” He stared at it for a while longer, looking confused - then abruptly flinched, his eyes flying wide open, and all but shoved the paper back at her. “What is he?”
“Erk?” Serra asked, frowning. “What’s freaking you out like -”
“What is that thing?” he demanded, his voice cracking. “What in the name of - What is that?!”
“He’s not a thing!” Lyn shouted. “He’s my-”
“Never mind! For- forget it! Just - promise not to follow us!” He grabbed the hand of his pink-haired companion, ignoring her yelp of protest, and fled in the opposite direction from the way the tactician - Kishuna - had gone.
“What in…” Lyn stared after them - Erk looked as though he was honestly running for his life - then placed her hands on her hips and shook her head slowly. It must have had something to do with her friend’s effect on their minds. She had noticed that people acted extremely irritable or uncomfortable whenever they joined her group, but she’d taken it to be for external causes - Kent just seemed a bit stuffy in general, Sain was an awkward fop, Dorcas had just betrayed the bandits who had hired him on, Florina was on edge after nearly being kidnapped, and Wil… well, she hadn’t been sure of Wil, but she didn’t know him well yet, either. She’d assumed it was just his nature. But, if it was truly something to do with the tactician’s presence, whatever it was had obviously had a much worse effect on the two magic-users. Erk was doubtless much less… strange… under ordinary circumstances.
She bit her lip, then turned and called, “Kishuna?”
The tactician, who had been sitting in the shade of a far-off tree, stood up and made his way over, tilting his head quizzically as he approached. “Kishuna,” she asked when he had come to stand right beside her, “is that - is that your name?”
He nodded with uncharacteristic energy, seeming unspeakably relieved to hear the name again. “Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “Now, everyone will be able to call you by name - You might find that silly, but I think it will go a little ways towards people becoming more comfortable around you. It was awkward for them to just have to call you ‘tactician’.”
Kishuna nodded uncertainly, then cast a gaze in the direction of the now far-off fleeing mage and cleric. Beneath his red cloak, what she could make out of his expression was… “It wasn’t that they didn’t like you personally, Kishuna,” she said, gripping his shoulder and looking at him with concern. “It was just that… they weren’t comfortable being in a situation where they couldn’t use magic, that was all. If there was an aura that made people unable to ride steeds instead, Erk and Serra would have been all right and Kent, Sain, and Florina would have been the ones having trouble.”
For some reason, that only increased the pain in the tactician’s face; Lyn was at first surprised, then wondered if it had been precisely that aspect of his presence which had brought him rejection in the past - possibly even that which had forced him into the life of a solitary, wandering traveler. …Of course. When his sole language was one of magic, that possibility was the very first thing of which she should have thought. She was an idiot.
“Their loss,” Lyn said firmly, making her friend look over at her in surprise. “Kishuna, if it hadn’t been for your guidance, I probably would have died when the bandits attacked my yurt - and if not then, soon after. And you’ve saved other lives as well - You were the one who advised me to parley with Dorcas when we would have otherwise treated him like any other bandit. You were the one who carefully planned out how to handle the bandits when they swarmed the ruins where Natalie was resting, and made sure that none even had a chance to do her any harm. And Wil? And Florina?” She shook her head. “Even if Florina’s Pegasus is skittish around you, and Wil and Florina are taking a while to get used to you, I’m sure we owe their good health to your tactics. You’ve made a difference to all of us, Kishuna, and one for the better. Don’t ever forget that.”
He was still for a while, then, after a moment of hesitation, patted her slowly and clumsily on the arm before turning away and walking towards the rest of their group. Lyn blinked, then nodded; the others were probably wondering what had gone on with Erk and Serra, particularly with Erk fleeing like a thousand evil spirits had been in hot pursuit. Planning out her explanation, she absently tucked a lock of dark-green hair behind her ear and followed Kishuna.
Regardless of that, she had to look on the bright side - she could finally make a certain formal introduction to the group…
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