(Writing for Lance today. This is partly from
after the Steel Vigil’s fall.)

If he could have paced his room he
would have. However the leg still pained him. The nightmares refused
to let him sleep. The defeat at the Steel Vigil had taken a sword and
carved a wound deep into his soul. It had only been days since the
fall. Since Nidhogg’s brood had savaged the Vigil.

He was on leave now. Maybe
indefinitely. Assuming he would ever be fit for duty again. Not that
he had been badly wounded. The claw that had gotten his hip and down
part way across his upper thigh would heal. It would scar but it
would heal. Other then that he hadn’t suffered any other major
wounds. He had been one of the lucky ones. Yet he felt anything but
lucky.

It was all gone. The Vigil was in
shambles. Lord Chlodebaimt was gone. House Haillenarte was suffering
both the loss of a son and the Vigil. Their reputation was torn from
this loss. Everything just gave his father more fuel to use against
him. To flaunt how superior House Dzemael was over House Haillenarte.

So he remained in his room. Not
sleeping. Nor walking about as he was supposed to by the healer’s
orders. Ignoring his mother and siblings attempts to lure him from
his room. Snarling at anyone that even made the attempt. Behaving no
better then a wounded animal rather then the young man he should be.

Why had he survived? Why had his
commander decided to sacrifice himself? What was it all worth when
all they had done is lost anyways…

The pillow smacked the wall and landed
with a soft plop on the floor. Lance pulled his good leg close and
rested his chin on the knee. He was so tired but every time he shut
his eyes all he heard was the screams and saw the flames. Saw good
men and women fighting a losing battle. Saw the aevis that wounded
him.

It would be days till Lance finally made an effort to leave his room.
Having enough of his family pestering him. Just to get away from the
constant insistence that he return to having a life. So he went out.
Did not mean he was having a life. Instead he just found ways to numb
the pain.

***

Lance gasped as he sat up. It had been a long time since those
memories had surfaced. Putting a hand to his forehead as he took a
deep breath. Hearing the chirp of a familiar friend as he looked
around. Finally he had been able to make a place for his feathered
friend at his apartment. Often leaving the window open for the small
owlet.

He held his hand out for the small bird as it landed on his bed.
Those large eyes looking up at him. “I hope you had a successful
hunt tonight, my friend.” The owl cocking his head to the side as
he looked up at Lance before hopping on Lance’s outstretched hand.

“At least only one of us still bears wounds.” Lance smiled softly
as he scratched under the owl’s beak, earning him a rather pleased
sound from the bird.