It seemed strange to Arkænyn, hearing Aværys' hallowed name on an Ecithian tongue shaped through an Ecitharese accent. His instinct was that it felt unnatural, but his rational mind knew that these were biases he would need to surmount if this mission was to be a success. He didn't have long to medidate on that before the talk turned to matters of war. His own experience in that realm was not dissimilar from Finn's experientially. He had likely known more of war in those other realities than Finn, who'd likely caused more wars than he'd fought in. War was something for which he'd trained, but had never actually engaged in. Auris was at peace, but the Sons of Ember were ever prepared to exert the will of their masters through fire and sword as required of them. But all violence was not war, and though he'd known much of the former the latter was known to him more in theory than in practise. He hoped that, if they did come to that, Finn would turn to him as a studied tactician, if not an experienced one.
A pointed ear perked when Finn mentioned Prince Seværys as one of his tutors. Arkænyn had seen the Golden Elf as a threat and reduced him from a soldier to a food taster, during his regency of terror. The Sunborn had spoken amiss at a banquet, making a joke that Arkænyn took to be at his own expense. After getting to know the valiant young knight he came to realise that he'd misinterpreted the comment, but he could hardly rescind the demotion without looking capricious, so it had stood until he was replaced as steward of the Luxium by Prince Everyl.
Alikhandrian remained silent, perhaps grimly so. He'd been young during the wars of old and had lost much in those days of yore. The gods of War and of Sacrifice must have known a great deal of overlap, he thought, in spite of their divergent allegiances.
