Varis

“Varis Smith, isn’t it? The great war hero has come at last,” said a man who seemed in his late thirties, with graying hair and a smile that could have been plastic. “I had been trying to get ahold of you for months,” he said, and Varis finally recognized him as the one who sent out a good amount of the casual invitations. He was part of the nobility, but somewhat distant from the ruling line, and Varis noted he seemed more personable than some of the other men here. Varis stopped attempting to eat his plate of sin immediately.

“Hello, Edwin. How is the family business running as of late?” Varis had done little digging into the man’s backstory, but the Lane family had a well-known business that specialized in trade of natural resources and goods from one part of the wall to another. It was easy to recognize this man as not much of a threat, especially as the bright, adoring smile of his nephew was glaring right at him from the sidelines. Varis glanced down at the kid and smiled softly. He was not much of a kid person, but knew when it was appropriate to be kind to the innocent and naïve.

“So you’ve heard of us? It’s been profitable as usual. The weather looks favorable upon the crops this year and production is productive. At this rate, I’d be able to buy this one the pony he’s been ribbing me about. Won’t I, my adorable little honeypot~”

With the way the kid was gawking at him and had now lit up like a bright red star of the sky, Varis was pretty sure getting a pony was now the last thing on his mind. “That’s not fair uncle, I only asked about that once. Once when I was seven,” he whined, trying to prop himself up on the chair and look as serious as the adult men he was sitting next to.

Despite himself, Varis was curious about something in particular in the boy’s stance. “And you are..?” He asked the boy. “I’m afraid I’ve not received a party invitation with your name on it yet.” A subtle jab at Edwin’s astonishing insistence that sometimes ended up taking up some of mailbox trays accompanied by a slight grin to show that he wasn’t too bothered.

“You say that now,” said Edwin with an airy wave of his hand, looking unbothered and not one to let any hint of reference to him pass by. “But one day you’ll regret not showing up to meet my family. I have actually two adorable nephews, you know. This one’s name is Ara. He was adopted by my sister a few years earlier.”

Varis nodded, not put off by Edwin’s unsurprisingly social nature. “It is nice to meet you, Ara. As noted by your uncle here, I am Varis.”

“Everyone knows who you are!” said Ara, looking excited once again. “Under your leadership, there were no casualties on the last expedition.” Then the boy paused, suddenly looking uncertain. “I mean, we saw the march back home from farther back.” He shot a wary look at his uncle, trying to moderate between what his true thoughts were and what they expected of him.

Varis kept the smile on his face now, giving a firm nod. “You are correct. Everyone returned in one piece during the last trip because of the success of the long distance scouting formation. It does not account for everything, but has allowed measurable success and discoveries to be made.” He stopped there, not wanting it to look like he was recruiting. He didn’t think he had to, however, with the way the boy’s gaze sparkled in his direction as he spoke.

Edwin politely chose this time to bow out from the table as he suddenly spotted a couple who had entered and moved off to greet them, leaving Varis and Ara alone at one table. Ara had suddenly become shy again, and seemed to fight some internal monologue. Varis could easily tell what that was. “A life on these scouting expeditions is considerably dangerous,” he continued. “Many choose to join the Military Police, which almost guarantees a more well-respected life.” And one that was also guaranteed to be living, Varis quietly noted, but knew better than to say that out loud.

“But they don’t help,” Ara muttered. “They seriously don’t help anyone...”

The smile dropped from Varis’s face. His piercing blue gaze peered into the boy and, for the first time since the conversation, he seemed intimidating. “If that is what you want,” he advised solemnly. “Consider the consequence of not doing anything compared to doing something. In a lot of ways, they are the same. But do what you feel is right for yourself.”

Ara seemed to tense up and stare at him in shock. No one had likely ever told him that, Varis noted. He felt almost sorrowful for the fate that would lie in this boy’s wake, the constant gloom and hell that would befall him. “We only have that choice for as long as we can stand and fight for it.”