Sophronios’ Office
Dentis 13, 2719 - Morning
I t could be simply Yazad’s imagination; an illusion that he convinced himself of, but the passive could swear that he was getting familiar with how Aurelie is. During the span of their time in Sophronios’ office, the woman had smiled awkwardly, laughed brightly, froze in fear, and wept for no understandable reason. Many emotions coming and going, many faces cycling through different expressions. It was as much a fascinating notion as the subject at hand, which seemed to make Aurelie wear yet another expression--or the lack thereof.
Yazad found it less concerning when Aurelie was openly crying.
His moments of respectful waiting were spent taking in the nuances of Aurelie’s body. Yazad tended to do that often when presented with the rare happening of having a person around for more than a few moments. It was rather impudent to stare at a lady--he knew that. But Yazad was not staring, no. He was observing. Pale green eyes trailed down from the set-jawed face to the tense posture, all the way down to the hands gripping at the fabric of the other’s uniform as though she was holding on to a lifeline. All very telling signs despite Aurelie’s momentary silence.
And then, she began to talk again. The vague words, not quite connected in flow but certainly understandable enough, nearly seemed heavier in weight than anything else Aurelie had said so far. "Ah." What was he to say about it other than that? Last winter, she had said. A memory not very fresh but far from being forgotten yet, if her reaction was anything to go by. Someone, unknown to him but whom Aurelie had known to some degree, had...done what, exactly? Seeing how she was all too careful with her answer, Yazad stopped himself from wanting to ask for the details. Just when he thought that this is all that he would be told, his guest spoke again.
It was fatal.
The passive who did not even realize that he was slightly leaning forward in anticipation slowly sat up straight, hand covering his partially open mouth. It was one thing to hear “Don’t go off in my shop, yea?” uttered jokingly by old grocer Alberto back in Florne, and another to be told that someone had caused themselves and another to lose their lives. A student, young and still aspiring to have a future, too. The knotting of his brows came with tens of other questions springing up to life inside his head. Questions that he knew he could not -and should not- ask Aurelie. How did that happen? What was the cause of it? In a place full of passives of all ages, backgrounds, and personalities...why this one? "I am terribly sorry, Aurelie." Yazad found himself muttering, half thinking that the woman would have another bout of tears thanks to his curiosity.
He could hear her talking again, making a comment about what he had said. Aurelie’s words were clear enough, he could hear them just fine. But they were not fully processed, for his mind was flying elsewhere. Yazad’s eyes, instinctively, moved to look at the empty chair behind the desk, where Sophronios would be sitting had he been less occupied with peas. A foreign feeling; heavy and unpleasant, planted its seed at the pit of his stomach. Was this doubt, or was it apprehension? It might be a bit of both.
"Never had I thought that I would be this worried about the good master’s life in my presence..." Yazad’s even tone had dropped down a notch, his eyes still lingering on the empty space in which said master could have been. He never considered himself anything but a mere man whose life had simply aligned this way. Things like this did not happen to him--they cannot possibly happen. They were the stuff of cautionary tales and exaggerated gossip, not anything that would ever be a part of his peaceful, mundane existence.
"If there was truly no potential for magic in passives, then why do such accidents happen? If anything, this makes me want to know how these things occur. If one understood the reasons, prevention -in theory- would be easy. But I suppose if such a way existed, then it would have been put to use already." More than talking to the one next to him, Yazad was thinking out loud before catching himself. "Oh, goodness. Listen to me ramble about theories. Pardon me. Being with the master for so long must have rubbed off on me." The raven-haired man remembered to look at his guest and put his smile back on in an attempt to dismiss the grim air that came with such a subject, pushing his budding concern and impossible theories to the back of his mind for now. He was not a man of science, not even close. If there was anyone who is going to do something about the way passives functioned, it certainly would not be him.
