It was the first time Haelvia had seen Centurion Januarius without his helmet.
As the rumors said, it looked like someone had run a sword through the left side of his face and rotated the hilt. The scars were pink and fleshy... and the stink of ointment stung the nostrils.
It was a shame. Januarius was only in his mid 30's or early 40's... and he probably would have been considered handsome.
He could have been in Haelvia's personal top three-- tied with Lancelot.
...Guh.
Haelvia shut her eyes and cursed herself for her hypocrisy. She hated being judged on her looks-- and in her mind, she had just done the same thing.
"You mind if I take off my helmet, Lass?" Januarius asked as he poured himself more wine.
"Not at all, Sir."
...Besides the fact that the Centurion had already done so, Haelvia wasn't foolish enough to deny her superior a personal comfort in his... personal tent.
Haelvia took another pull of her wine, the alcohol in it not even enough to redden her cheeks... "Question, Centurion."
"Answer, Immunes."
"Why'd we set up camp so early? It's still... a whole bell before the sun starts going down?"
"We're going to be attacked," Januarius nodded sternly.
"...Wait, what?" Haelvia tilted her head. "By... who?"
"I've no idea, Lass," The wolf shrugged. "I can just feel it. The sands have been too quiet... and the fates have been too kind, as of late."
Haelvia was no stranger to the concept... She believed she could hear the voice of her Divine Armor. The Centurion having a premonition about an inevitable attack was far easier to believe.
Still... as devoid as the desert was of travelers and the fact that their camp was on an elevated plateau, it seemed unlikely. Thus, without Optio Phaedra present, Haelvia took on the role as the command tent's voice of logic.
"How can you be certain, Centurion?"
"I'm not," Januarius frowned. "I'm assigning you and the puer to nightwatch, two different shifts."
"Sir... that..."
"The lack of sleep will be unpleasant," The man shut his eyes and shook his head, "This is an order... and if you refuse it, you will be subject to disciplinary action under martial law."
"...I understand, Centurion," Haelvia sighed as she poured her own cup to full.
It sounded like a threat... but she also knew that was just how the Centurion spoke.
Still, it would have been easier to swallow if her wine wasn't as watered down as it was.
Januarius tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, "However... if you are not up to the task, Adulascenta, then perhaps you're not cut out for... Guild Invictus?"
Haelvia chuckled to herself at the thought.
"No," Her mouth curled up into a radiant smile, "I've no complaints, Sir."
"Very well," Januarius nodded, taking his wolf helmet and donning it once more.
Did he sleep with that thing on? That seemed to be the case...
"Remain vigilant, Haelvia of Leopardon," The Centurion commanded. "The strength of the pack is in each wolf. Dismissed."
...
⟬ Later that night... ⟭
Haelvia manually pushed open Gaheris' chest plates to get a breath of fresh air. It was nice and cozy in the enclosure... but the cool breeze that washed over her spiked her awareness.
Stifling a yawn, she scanned the horizon...
Guild Metal Wolf was camped in a defensible position, able to see miles around down the hilly plateau. All the rocks and shrubs and cactuses-- cactusie-- cactusii? It looked the same... but none of them moved.
It was easy to see anything moving in the darkness, with the starlight and all the bonfires they lit.
It had been a boring night, until then...
All she and Gaheris had to do on the first half of nightwatch was patrol to the various watch stations, visiting each at least once.
It gave her plenty of time to think.
Thankfully, she wasn't alone in her thoughts. She had a loyal partner, after all.
⟬ Gaheris doesn't notice anything unusual. ⟭
...Loyalty aside, he wasn't the best at conversation.
He made up for it by being a great listener-- which was just as important as talking in a conversation, if not moreso.
She thought back to her earlier conversation with Centurion Januarius.
The Metal Wolf, himself, had a good memory.
When her application to join the company was being reviewed, Haelvia cited Sol Invictus as her motivation for joining.
Even though decades had passed since that guild's iron rule over Ezyria's gladiatorial arenas, they still remained a household name... especially in the Ezyrian village of Leopardon. Since they were within a week's travel to Caeruleum, many of the adults had seen Invictus live in action.
Joining Sol Invictus... was something she and her childhood friend, Justus, often talked about.
Once they 'grew up,' they'd do the work of the Flame... slaying xeno's and heretics and witches and great, mutant beasts-- all in defense of humanity.
After they made a name for themselves, they promised to search all through Tyrion, maybe beyond, for whoever succeeded Guild Leader Quies.
Sol Invictus was out there, somewhere... That's what she personally believed.
Though heroes may die... legends live forever.
And reasonably, their... trademarks wouldn't expire so quickly.
...Haelvia didn't know when it was, but somesun along the road, she realized she'd grown past those grossly unrealistic idealisms.
It might have been when she first visited Caeruleum with her father. The gladiators they watched fight didn't seem very strong... and she had to listen to Dad complain about the waste of coin for a whole two weeks after.
It might have been when she was first rejected by both the Tyrion standing army and the Rhodok guild. She wasn't allowed to fight in the defense of her nation-- and why? Because she ate her vegetables as a child?
...Maybe it was when she realized her first paycheck wasn't worth as much as she hoped.
Being an adult was difficult.
Anyroad, Sol Invictus was long gone.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Haelvia supposed she still liked the romantic notion of having such a title...
She just had to *rate* it, first, though.
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