Year: 75,350 A.A.
Location: Lírterno - ESC Site "Occult"
Designation: Baltair Orazon - Chief General

⊶⊶⊶ ❖ ⊶⊶⊶

    By some miraculous intervention of the Saint or the gods, Ethelyn remained in Ternio following their meeting with the ArchImperator and the Triumvirate, meaning there would be no need for Baltair to try to explain Marek's indisposition to her.

    He passed off his own absence from the capital by claiming he'd decided to spend some time with his son while he waited for reports to come in about the location of the hostage Triumvir Initiate. Not a complete lie.

    He hadn't sent out for any reports, but he had spent his time divided between keeping an eye on Marek and being with Benat when there was a lapse in his son's studies or the testing Ethelyn had carried out in her absence. A hard knot had formed in his gut when he first found Benat in a laboratory with several of Ethelyn's assistants.

    His son had explained that it was a common occurrence when his aunt couldn't be there, something Baltair had been previously unaware of. He'd assumed that Marek handled the testing when Ethelyn was gone, considering she seldom allowed him to leave the compound even with her. His frustration had then shifted to guilt and anger at himself.

    He had done his best to be as involved in Benat's life as he could when the boy was younger, until Ethelyn encouraged him to spread his visits out given Benat's distress whenever he had to leave. Baltair hadn't questioned it at the time. He'd barely had the mind to. He'd been lost to grief over Remena, and their two oldest boys, Benat's brothers.

    Ethelyn had said that Benat was growing up to be a confused child, and having to watch his father leave him behind over and over again was only worsening his mental state. So Baltair had lost himself in his work instead, only coming back to the compound when Marek radioed him to cuss him out for forgetting his still living child.

    He'd begun coming more regularly again as Benat grew older, but apparently not regularly enough to be aware of everything that occurred in his son's daily life. Remena would've had his balls for it. At one point, Marek would've too, and that had only deepened Baltair's guilt.

    If he had been distant enough for Marek to no longer reach out to him about his child, and instead took care of Benat himself, no wonder he hadn't realized how far Marek was slipping again. Why would Marek assume that he cared for him if he believed Baltair didn't even care that deeply about his son? It was something he intended to remedy, with both of them. And it had to be now, given that his head was currently on the line.

    Baltair shoved aside the dismal reminder as he strode through the compound's pristine corridors, heading for the only outdoor courtyard that was in the center of the compound. The one place where Benat was allowed to step outside. With the doors just up ahead, he could already see his son's figure, seated atop a table with his face lifted to the sky.

    A few flakes of snow were falling, though Benat didn't appear bothered by it. The doors hissed open once Baltair was close enough and Benat faced him as he approached. "Has Uncle Marek woke up yet?" He asked, the same question he'd been asking every time they saw each other.

    "Not yet," Baltair answered. "Doctor Reve thinks he'll come around sometime today though."

    He pushed himself up beside the boy and braced his elbows atop his knees. Benat shifted closer to him, and from the corner of his eye, Baltair noticed not for the first time how tall his son was becoming. Benat wasn't quite as tall as him yet, but he was already as tall as his brothers had been.

    "He'll be all right, won't he? He won't have to leave?" Benat met his gaze, weariness and concern beyond his years reflecting in his own.

    "He'll be fine," Baltair assured him. "And I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere."

    His son nodded, but continued to chew his lip anxiously. He lifted his head once more, letting the thin sunlight wash across his face. "My professors refused to teach me about Solis and the ancient gods, did you know?"

    "How come? It's the history that shaped our world. I'd think that's something important to teach you."

    Benat shrugged. "Aunt Ethelyn told them not to fill my head with useless drivel, and most of them don't believe it was ever true anyway. But I was curious, even more so when they refused to tell me, so Uncle Marek taught me about it." His hand stretched towards the sky, tracing a circle around the sun's glow.

    Baltair listened quietly as Benat recanted the story as his uncle had taught him, though he already knew it just as well. Solis had been the beginning, a mighty god who ruled the heavens and oversaw the creation of the universe. It was he who had created the ancient gods, the first Humans to have ever lived.

    When he had completed the world he envisioned for his creations, Solis allowed fire to consume his body and placed himself in the center of the universe so he could continue to give life and warmth to his creations throughout the ages.

    Wonder lit Benat's gaze as he spoke and a smile lifted Baltair's lips. "What?" Benat asked when he noticed.

    "You were making the same face I often saw on your mother's features," he answered honestly. "She loved our ancient histories too."

    Benat's throat bobbed as he broke his gaze. "Uncle Marek's told me that before." Baltair cringed, his smile falling. "You never tell me about her. About any of them."

    "I know," he sighed. "And I'm sorry, Ben."

    "Don't be sorry. Be different."

    Baltair tipped his head sideways, marking the hard note in his son's voice. "You're angry with me, aren't you?"
   
    His son's own sandy head shook in denial. "No, not angry. Just...I don't know." Benat scrubbed at his face suddenly before swiping a hand under his nose. "Do you promise Uncle Marek won't have to leave?"

    "As long as your aunt doesn't find out about this, no. He won't have to leave. I've already dismissed his guards and replaced them, and Doctor Reve won't betray him."

    Benat only closed his eyes. "I just don't want to end up with no one. You're barely able to come visit me. Aunt Ethelyn has nothing to do with me outside of her testing. I'm not allowed to make friends with anyone here, not that there are many options. And..." He hesitated, casting Baltair another sidelong glance. He just nodded, encouraging his son to continue. "Uncle Marek is practically my dad too. He's all I have here. And if he's gone..."

    Baltair rested a hand on his shoulder, then wrapped his arm around him completely. "That won't happen. I promise, Ben. And even if it did, I wouldn't allow you to stay here by yourself."

    "Would Aunt Ethelyn let me leave?"

    "It wouldn't matter. I'm your father, and I also outrank her."

    "Then why haven't you taken me before?" Baltair stiffened, and at his lack of a response, Benat shifted away from him. "It's all right. I get it. You work with dangerous people. It's to keep me safe, and I might provide answers to a cure for the plague. I'm too valuable to keep around mercenaries and soldiers."

    Before Baltair could protest or attempt to explain further, the small screen on his wrist cuff lit up and he jumped to his feet as he read the message. "Marek's awake." Benat followed him up in a heartbeat, their discussion already forgotten as they practically sprinted back into the compound.

    Benat beat him to the door of Doctor Reve's facilities and it opened to reveal Marek already sitting upright in the bed. Breath loosened in Baltair's chest and eased the thundering tempo of his heart, though only a fraction. He ensured the door was sealed behind them as Benat ran to his uncle's side. When he turned back, his son had his arms around the man, and Marek was returning his embrace with equal vigor.

    "I'm all right, Ben," Marek chuckled hoarsely, evidently responding to a demand from him that Baltair had missed. "Though I may not be if you strangle me within the next few minutes."

    Benat offered him a sheepish grin and loosened his grasp. "I'm sorry, I just...I thought..." He threw his arms around him once more. "I thought you were already dead when I saw Dad with you. I thought you might never wake up."

    Marek knit his brows as a faint sniff came from the boy, but he only gave his back a gentle rub. "I know, and I'm sorry you had to see that. But I'm all right now, and Ben," he grasped him by the shoulders and pushed him back so that their gazes met. Baltair's throat caught at the few stray tears streaking his son's face. "I did not do this to myself, and I don't want you to think that or be afraid for me. This is not going to happen again. It was...an accident."

    His green eyes shifted to Baltair's and he caught the message hidden within it. Marek embraced Benat one last time before nudging him. "Your lessons are about to resume. You shouldn't be late if you don't want anyone to come looking for you." He brushed his knuckles across Benat's face. "I'll run over your feet later if your professors come poking their noses in here."

    Benat grinned with a swift nod. "Spare my feet, Uncle Marek. They won't bother you."

    "They'd better not." Marek pushed him away from the bed and towards the door.

    Surprise flitted across Baltair's features when Benat didn't leave right away, instead pausing to hug him too. "We'll talk more later," Baltair promised him as his son withdrew. Benat nodded again and slipped out the door, leaving him alone with Marek.

    "Where's Ethelyn?" Marek asked as Baltair approached his bedside.

    "Still in Ternio miraculously. She's expected back late tomorrow."

    Marek's head fell back with a sigh of relief. "Thank fucking Solis." He raked his fingers through dark hair, then smoothed his palm down his face. "What happened? I don't remember anything past trying to break away from my guards."

    He listened, face impassive as Baltair recounted what had happened, from the time he found him up until he had dismissed his guards. When he was finished, Marek gave another sigh. "Well, I'm glad you didn't shoot them. We definitely would've had issues then." A teasing smirk flitted across his lips as he glanced up. "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment."

    Baltair snapped his gaze away at once and cleared his throat subconsciously. "Why did they try to sedate you in the first place? They claimed you were growing agitated."

    Marek's smirk twisted into a cruel scowl and he scoffed. "I don't know why they did it. I had been on my way to run some tests with equipment she doesn't like stored in our lab, and when we got there, they were trying to drug me."

    Baltair steeled himself for his next question. "They said they weren't aware that two doses of the sedative would affect you like that, and Doctor Reve said if it had been any more, you could have died. But they also said Ethelyn assured them you couldn't overdose on the sedative, which is clearly untrue. She authorizes your guards to carry the highest dosage possible, each of them. She knows what would happen if they administered too much. The guards thought she might've made a mistake."

    "She doesn't make mistakes. Not like that." Marek's voice had fallen to a rasping whisper, and when Baltair looked back at him, he found a hint of fear within his features. Marek Betzalel never showed fear. Baltair sat down beside him, planting his hands on the bed and curling his fists in the thin sheet covering it, and Marek's fragile legs.

    "So why did she lie to them?" He murmured.

    "Because she hates me," Marek bit out. "She hates that she needs me. She hates that she wasn't rid of me nine years ago. She hates that you and Ben are the ones keeping me here. But she can't do anything to me outright. What better way than to stage an accident and blame my guards? Who would miss the worthless, insane, self destructive cripple who only ever cost others their time?" 

    "None of that is true."

    "They think it is." Marek's head fell once more and this time he covered it with his hands completely. "Fucking Solis. They all think I'm a waste of time."

    "Ben doesn't. I don't."

    His fingers cracked apart, letting his eyes peer through. "Yeah, that's another thing. Why are you still here? Your soldiers are sure to notice your absence." The answer bubbled up, but lodged in Baltair's throat before it could be given voice. Marek seemed to notice his hesitation. He sat up. "What is it, General?"

    That drew his smile back, but Baltair shook his head. "I'm not a general around you. You don't believe in those bullshit ranks, as you called them, remember?"

    "I remember. So why are you here, Baltair?"

    He refused to let his gaze fall, even when cool fingertips brushed his own. "I wanted to make sure you would be all right," Baltair answered at last. But he jerked his hand away before those fingers could curl over his as he knew they would. "Because I need your brilliant mind."

    He shoved to his feet, ignoring the faintly guarded gleam in Marek's eyes as he nodded. "Go on."