Amoung Us

Casimir stood in the centre of his dimly lit room, sweat dripping from his brow as he practised the ancient fighting style, the Dance of Deidamia. It was not ideal, his room was very small, l but he was getting frustrated with having to lay low when he was so close to enlightenment. The fluidity of his movements belied the forceful slashes and stabs that punctuated the air around him. His eyes were closed, but his mind was sharp – focused on the intricate steps learned from Gedeon's tome. Every now and then, he would pause to consult one of the several notes strewn on the floor, studying his form and scrolls detailing the geography of the Blood Savannah.

"Two days,"

He murmured; his breath ragged. The military campus of the Nation of Cestane was a world away from Casimir's former life. Here, he found solace in the quiet solitude of his quarters, tucked away in the corner of the sprawling complex. Though sparsely decorated, the room bore the marks of its occupant – meticulously arranged notes hung on the walls, and books filled with the knowledge he sought piled high on every surface. His visit to the library the other day was long overdue and it served him well to have gone when he did.

Casimir's daily routine had become a well-oiled machine. He woke before dawn, running through the stillness of the morning, his lungs burning with each breath as he pushed himself harder and faster. Training sessions followed, where he honed his skills alongside fellow cadets, their camaraderie forged in sweat and steel. Evenings were spent researching, poring over the knowledge he received during his lectures in search of an edge that might aid him in the upcoming campaign. If there was one thing he despised it was not being ready enough. He had been caught with his pants down once and he knew never again would he let that occur.

He finished the dance once again and received no enlightenment once again after the tease he had been subjected to. He sighed in frustration, things weren't going according to plan.

As day turned into night, Casimir continued to immerse himself in the dance, each movement becoming more precise, more deadly. It was not simply the impending military campaign that drove him; it was the nagging feeling that somewhere within the treacherous landscape of the Blood Savannah disaster may come unannounced and full-blooded. So aside from the ichor, tranquillity and the iron maiden he needed another trump card after all their Officers can't save them all.

His body still glistened with sweat from practising the Dance of Deidamia. He took a moment to catch his breath and reflect on the three acquaintances he had made during his time at the military campus: Oscar, the thoughtful and stalwart fighter; Oliver, the reserved and mysterious lad, not a lot left his mind via his face to it was hard to tell how he was feeling just by his expressions alone.; Michelle, the simplistic young lady that was just as chatty as Oscar. Each had their strengths and weaknesses, and although Casimir respected them all, there were underlying tensions that sometimes threatened their unity. He didn't feel they connected well with Oliver seeing as how he was the only normal one by societal standards as compared to the other three.

A knock on the door broke Casimir's reverie as Oscar stepped into the room. The young man's brow furrowed with concern, and his usually bright eyes seemed clouded with hurt.

"Hey, Cass... I thought you were reading again, but it seems you are training all by yourself"

Casimir shrugged off the young man's crocodile tears, he knew Oscar wasn't as hurt as he was portraying.

"I have to be ready, Oscar. Two days isn't much time."

"Of course, But I thought you might want some company. We rarely get the chance to spar because you are always 'Busy'."

"True,"

Casimir admitted, settling down and offering Oscar a seat.

"What's on your mind?"

"Just like that? I thought you didn't like the company?"

"I've never explicitly said that have I?"

"I'm not doing this with you"

"So what are you here for?"

"Oliver... "

Oscar said hesitantly, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

"I know he's part of our team and all but Cas... he is a bit distant and suspicious. We need to trust each other if we're going to succeed out there and my trust is something he's lacking"

"Trust doesn't come easy."

Casimir replied with a heavy sigh, he was doing a lot of those nowadays. His thoughts turned to his mother, and the powerful House he believed was responsible for her death. That didn't happen often which surprised him.

Casimir looked into Oscar's eyes, seeing the sincerity that lay within them. He also had his reservations about Oliver but now was not the time. He could not be sowing seeds of doubt just because of a hunch

"Two days, Oscar, two until the campaign go get some rest don't think too much about Oliver I think he's fine... and don't worry I won't say a word."

"Thanks I'll see you later Cass."

"Sure next time wait till i say come in before you get in my room,"

"As if you'll open the door."

Oscar let out a scoff before he exited the room. Casimir nodded, letting out a deep breath after Oscar the room. His thoughts churned with newfound unease and a growing sense of camaraderie. In two days, they would venture into the unknown, and he would be ready – not just for himself, but for the team that stood beside him, he owed that to himself.