alrighty!
Back in Darchester, a tired, frustrated figure sat in a dimly lit office, the feather of his quill flittering erratically in the air as ink scribbled upon paper. He wrote for several minutes before he pushed the paper back and dropped the pen, a heavy huff escaping him. He leaned back in his chair with a groan and cupped a hand over his eyes to try and relieve his pounding head from having to process the light. Several small sparks of electricity flickered off his writing hand as he shook it to relieve the tension.
"Paperwork starting to get to you, huh?"
His brow furrowed and he sat upright, squinting until he recognized the familiar shape of the Ash Brigade's head medic, her sturdy form relaxing against the entrance to the Director's Office with a cup of water in hand. He managed to offer her a smile, but his drooping eyelids and unfocused gaze betrayed his exhaustion.
"He always looked busy, but I never imagined just how hard he was working," he mumbled, rubbing his face with both hands. "How does he do it?"
"Well, for one, he doesn't do it all in one session," answered Dal as she made her way to the desk and set the cup of water down in front of the Blademaster. "You've been in here for five hours straight, Iro."
Iro chuckled wearily in response, gaze dropping to the little mountains of taxes, paychecks, and budgets scattered across the desk. "That's… fair. I just don't want him to have to come back to all this after being out on missions for as long as he'll be. You know the first thing he'll do when he gets back is get right to work, Dal."
Dal smiled, leaning on the desk and folding her arms across her chest. Her sharp green gaze dropped to the number of candles dripping wax onto the desk, fixing her gaze on one of many flickering flames. "Oh, believe me, I know. But that's also why I'm here. He's out there handling those contracts all by himself."
"Mhm. He said he wanted to."
"I know, but… it's foreign land," Dal reasoned. "We don't know much about it and the resources available on the surrounding territories are few. I'm worried about him running into something he's not prepared for."
Iro clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, leaning back in the chair once more. "What're you saying, then? We can't call him back."
"But we can send someone out there to help him, right?"
The Blademaster pursed his lips, "He wouldn't like that."
"Of course he wouldn't," came Dal's light retort. "But I'd rather him come back and be angry for a few days than risk him not coming back at all."
Iro closed his eyes, taking a moment to mull over his options. He didn't doubt Aeolus's ability to fend for himself and he'd seen the careful research Aeolus had done before his departure, but, now that the thought was settling with him, it didn't settle well. There were some imperative details the Darchestran government refused to document, such as the political relationship with Igreacean, the kingdom's treatment of foreigners, and whether or not it'd actually be safe to complete contracts of any kind there. That was a bit too much of a disadvantage for Iro to have peace of mind.
With a sigh, he relented. "Alright. Who are we sending?"