Bits Of An Average Life

Mark walked out of Jean's office, heading for a room, even though he had no clue as to where to find it.

"Maybe this way..." 

He walked upstairs, checking a door in the corner of the hall. The door creaked open, Mark's eyes glistering at the dreamy sight that lay before him.

"Weapons, armor, exactly what I need. Let's see..." 

He began rummaging through the armory, grabbing a simple longsword, then scanning around for a claymore. He put the sword on his waist, in the same manner Ras had done, while he sought out a claymore. A ray of light struck his eyes, reflecting off of a nice yet simple claymore. A broad sheet of heavy steel, perfect for what he had in mind.

"Good, good. Now for that bit of armor I need."

He walked past the sets of chestplates, looking for a mere pair of gauntlets to use.

"Finally, here." 

In a dusty corner, as if forgotten by time itself, he found a pair of dirty gauntlets—a perfect pair for him. He put them on, moving his fingers and arms together, feeling quite comfortable. They reached just below his elbow, exactly how he wanted it to be.

"That's perfect. Now let's head to the training grounds."

Walking out, he had to duck a bit, feeling as the claymore's hilt struck the door frame the first time he tried to step out. The handle, added to his decent height, already made it difficult to walk through normal doors.

"Now, let's see where the training ground is."

He walked back downstairs, passing by the same door he had left open earlier, meeting Jean's shoked gaze as he passed the door.

"Shit shit shit shit shit, I've been spotted..." 

"Where exactly do you think you're heading?" asked a familiar voice from behind. He closed his eyes, turning around with a sluggish movement.

"The training grounds."

Jean held her arms crossed, her gaze belittling Mark, who couldn't help but stare at her light blue eyes.

"Do you even have a clue as to where that place is?"

Mark shook his head, feeling like a soldier caught red-handed as they tried to leave their post.

"Nope... But I'm sure I'll find it," said Mark with a hopeful tone.

Jean walked closer, slowly rocking her head left and right as she did so.

"This won't do. Come on, let's go."

She grabbed him by his shirt, forcing him to follow her. She led him outside, walking behind the imposing stone building. There, Mark could see large wooden training dummies, thousands upon thousands of scratches and marks embedded within them.

"This is where we, the knights, train every day."

"It sure looks like it. Now, if you'll allow me—"

She was quick to cut him off, offering a stern gaze that instantly shut him up.

"Do you even know how to wield a sword, or are you planning on simply swinging it around until you tire yourself out?"

Mark tried his best to remain serious.

"The latter, I'm afraid."

"See? You're too quick to rush into things. Now, watch carefully."

Jean pulled out her sword, swinging it slowly, focusing more on the form. She first demonstrated some normal vertical slashes, then some horizontal ones, before switching to diagonal movements.

"Notice how I'm shifting my weight from one leg to another. Each movement matters, and you must take great care to have a solid base; at least you lose your balance and fall."

Mark watched, intrigued, following her movements carefully. He was caught in a daze, and he couldn't help but stare at Jean's face as well, admiring her gentle features.

"I see..." 

His mouth was nearly left open as he spoke, but he snapped it close as Jean walked towards him.

"Your turn now. Let me see what you are capable of."

He took off the claymore, prompting it against the wall, then he unsheated his longsword, stepping into stance, placing his right leg slightly forward. He swung once, then once more, on and on for a few minutes, alternating between swings.

"Vertical, vertical, horizontal, diagonal this time, horizontal again..." were his only thoughts as he became one with the motion. He took care to also shift his weight along, stepping forward slightly before pulling his torso back, dragging his leg along.

"That's not bad, but it's clear you can use some more training."

Jean walked beside him, standing so close that he could feel her hair tingle the skin on his neck.

"You should hold your arm like this and bend your back a little. Also, you're a bit too stiff, and your grip is too strong."

She adjusted his arm a bit, placing a hand on his back and one on his abdomen as she adjusted his back. He switched to holding his sword firmly, giving it a bit of leeway.

"Should you continue your training, you'll turn out to be a fine knight," said Jean, still close to Mark as she spoke. He turned at her, a faint blush on his face as he took the compliment, answering with a brief "Thanks" before swinging his sword once more.

"I'm glad I could help you. Well, then, I'll be on my way now. There are a lot of things I still have to take care of, with both the Fatui and Stormterror causing problems."

Mark held his sword to his side, a faint bead of sweat forming on the side of his forehead.

"The Fatui? Those guys are up to no good. Never trust them."

She tried to hide her curiosity, pretending to be unphased by Mark's sudden words.

"How come you know about the Fatui? Did you perhaps find yourself in shambles with them?"

Mark shook his head, speaking sternly.

"I simply know it. I have a feeling they're up to no good, but I can't quite figure out what."

In that very moment, he felt a thought strike his mind like thunder, the world phasing out around him for a breath's moment.

"The Gnosis...Venti..." muttered Mark.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Jean, all of a sudden standing at his side. He smiled faintly, sitting up straighter.

"I'm fine, thank you. I just remembered something."

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air.

"Either way, be careful about what they're doing. Up to no good, I'm telling you."

"I will make sure to thread about it carefully. Thank you for looking out for us, the people of Mondstadt. I shall return to my duty now."

She waved him goodbye before walking away. Mark held his sword before him once more, and before he knew it, the entire day had passed before his very eyes as his body felt a single motion: swinging.

"Maybe I should take a break," laughed Mark as he watched the sun setting far off in the distance. He walked back inside the headquarters, knocking softly on Jean's door.

"Come in." 

He opened the door, looking at Jean, who was busy with a large stack of papers on her desk.

"It seems that you're done for the day. I must admit, I'm rather impressed."

He smirked, scratching the back of his head.

"It's nothing important, really. Also, where is Ras?"

"Ras? He went to the library earlier today, and I haven't seen him since."

Mark nearly broke into laughter, but he held it in.

"Hah, I see. I wanted to ask about our rooms and about where I could take a bath. I'm rather...sweaty, as you can see."

Jean seemed to only now notice that he was drenched in sweat from head to toe.

"Ah, yes." 

She nearly got up from her seat, but Mark prompted her to sit back down.

"It's alright; just tell me. You're busy as it is; there's no need to show me around like I'm a child. Also, what is it that's always got you jailed in your office all day long?"

He grabbed a sheet of paper from the large stack, looking at its contents.

"Administrative work? You sure have a lot on your plate, that's for sure. Do these things need to be revised and signed or?"

"I'm afraid that's the case. Numerous documents make their way here every day, and as the Acting Grandmaster, it is my duty to take care of them properly."

Mark nodded before putting down the piece of paper.

"I see. Well, perhaps I could lend you a hand sometime, as long as you brief me on what I should do. I might not look the part, but I'm pretty good with using my brain too."

Jean smiled softly, but the look on her face already foretold her answer.

"I won't take no as an answer, by the way. I should at least do this much as an Honorary Knight. After all, responsibility is something I tend to be serious about."

Mark could notice a certain glimmer within her eyes, despite her still-adamant attitude.

"Fine, but only minor issues."

"Better than doing nothing. Well, then, I'll go find my way to someplace where I can wash myself. Worst-case scenario, I'm jumping in the lake."

Jean chuckled at his words, speaking softly.

"I'm warning you, the water is quite cold. A knight should be able to handle that."

Mark seemed to shiver at the thought, but he tried to play it off.

"Well, better to cool myself down a bit, you know? Sometimes I'm too hot for my own good."

He let out a soft sigh, putting his hands on his waist.

"I'll see myself out along with my stupid jokes. Also, is my room upstairs?"

"Second door on the right. Both you and Ras are free to use that room as you see fit."

"Thanks." 

He closed the door behind him, going upstairs only to leave his two weapons in there, as well as his gauntlets. He then grabbed a towel from the lone closet and headed downstairs, checking behind each door until he found the washing room. He went in, washed, and came out faster than ever before, shivering.

He then went back to Jean's office, but not before placing the towel somewhere it could dry.

"Ok, I'm back in business."

Mark's voice startled Jean, who fought back her heavy eyelids as they kept trying to close.

"I see. You look refreshed."

"You better bet I am. Now, to help with those documents."

"Right." 

Jean got up and set aside a smaller chunk of papers before handing them to Mark, telling him what he had to do.

"Ok, so basically I read them, compare what's here with what's inside that large book over there, and add up numbers. Got it." 

He sat down across from Jean, working diligently without making a sound. Jean peeked from the corner of her eyes, seeing as Mark put down paper after paper, jotting down results and comparing already-written sums.

"You sure seem good at this."

"Well, it's nothing important, really. It's basic aritmethics, so nothing worth noting."

Jean smiled, feeling her energy come back as she picked up the pace, working significantly faster.

Time was lost to both of them, yet none complained. All was silent until a knock on the door disturbed them.

"Come in." 

A tall man with long red hair stepped in. His dark clothes were long, and Mark felt like his coat was for colder weather.

"Diluc? What are you doing here?" asked Jean, jolting up to her feet.

Diluc's eyes gazed at her, then skimmed over Mark before returning to Jean. 

"I don't have a lot of time to explain. It's about Stormterror and the Holy Lyre."

Mark jumped up from his seat.

"Did the Fatui steal it?"

Diluc met him with a surprised gaze.

"How did you know?"

Mark smirked. 

"Call it intuition. But enough about that. Let me grab my sword, and then we're out. I guess Aether and that bard are waiting at your tavern, right?"

Mark walked between the two of them, running to his room, returing with his longsword neatly placed on the side of his waist.

"Let's go. I'm sure you already know where we're going to find the lyre, so I won't bother asking."

Mark went outside first, leaving a confused Jean and suspicious Diluc behind.

"Are you sure he's not working with the enemy?"

Jean nodded. 

"He's a rather enigmatic character, to say the least. I guess you could ask him when this is over."