Insomniatic Pyroclasms: A Spiraling Fates Side Story
By D. Mintaka Peal
Author Note: Another side story, this time involving Decus. And other Wise Men, but this is a Decus-centric piece of fiction. My portrayal of Decus may not be entirely true to how he is in the game - not like there's much to work on. But I hope to at least make hi slightly more likeable, and write something poignant [or at least insightful] and humorous all at the same time.
Besides, its Decus, and Decus can only mean trouble.
This takes place early on in the Wise Men's time on Expel, when some greenery might still exist near Eluria, also known as sometime around the first visit to Salva and the whole Alan arc of the beginning of SO2. And no, the title makes little sense - it's a play off his fire-habits and also his Japanese name's angel stats I dug up [see Kaiki no Reiniku for more on that in the Character section.] On to the story at hand!
~*~
Decus was sitting on a rock in the middle of the night, out where some greenery still existed by the Eluria Tower. What hadn't been immediately destroyed upon their arrival had slowly been dying - or being burned by the fiery Wise Man now sitting alone in the dark. Once again, he found he could not sleep, another night where his mind was trapped within the confines of reality and could not escape into the boundless, infinite realm of dreams and sleep. It was only out here, in the calm of night, the cool air - and with things around to burn should his temper rise once more - that he could feel peace at night while awake.
In the tower he knew Indalecio, their leader, was wide-awake as well, for other reasons. It was even speculated that Indalecio never slept - no one of the other Wise Men had an answer, though Cyril was quite sure he did. 'Cyril. that bag of wind.'
Decus had his fill of Cyril more then enough lately, having to listen to the caustic, overbearing walking ego enough in the last few days to make him sick. If it wasn't one thing it was another that Cyril was harping on Decus about. If it weren't for the fact that Indalecio would eradicate him, Decus would have already incinerated Cyril to ashes. The other reason was Vesper - the only voice of reason that Decus knew. Vesper and he were "partners in crime" - Decus looked up to the older Wise Men with respect and awe. Vesper knew the ins and outs of so much, and also was the only person Decus could confide in and trust to help control his temper.
To this day he still had a burning rage about what had happened on Nede, and was fairly certain Cyril was part of the reason for their failures - but there was no proof, and as Vesper had put it, blame would have solved nothing - they all had to work together, despite Cyril's annoying behavior. Neither one could figure why Indalecio had him as a second in command - they all assumed - the other eight Wise Men other than Indalecio and Cyril - that it was merely because Cyril could command the most power of the nine who followed the red-headed, white robed leader. After that were Vesper and Decus, neither of which really would want to be right under Indalecio, yet despising Cyril for their own reasons.
Decus' reasons were fairly simple at a glance - Cyril often belittled him, and criticized what he did. As well, a lack of respect for Indalecio, the treatment of some of the other Wise Men - Ruprecht especially - and other minor offenses. But what burned Decus most about Cyril was the fact that Cyril simply did not care.
T was true to the extent none of them cared about Expel's fate when they went to Energy Nede, but what burned him was Cyril's lack of care for anything at all. First on that list was Cyril's treatment of Ruprecht. Decus cared for Ruprecht like a younger sibling because Ruprecht understood some of Decus' own problems and knew some handy tricks to relieve boredom, stress, and building anger. Plus Ruprecht had made Decus a small device for focusing fire into when stuck inside and felt the need to burn things. It was these little things that drove his compassion for the youngest of the Wise Men, and Cyril's ill treatment of him grated on Decus' nerves greatly. This discounted the fact Ruprecht was Cyril's own brother - Ruprecht admitted his own confusion on the matter long ago to Decus about his mistreatments when he had not wronged Cyril. Indeed, Decus had done nothing to Cyril either to earn what he received from the half-blinded magician.
Past the treatment of Ruprecht, there was Cyril's uncaring attitude towards Indalecio, their leader. Decus had great respect for Indalecio as a leader and fellow man. Indalecio knew Decus was a valuable asset despite the flaws he had, and put him high in his list of trust, sometimes calling him for advice on some matters. Normally their leader talked with Vesper of those matters, and Decus felt honored to be able to assist so directly. The fact Cyril went behind Indalecio's back so often was more than enough to have hatred for Cyril.
'But it's the way he treats me that really seals it,' he thought to himself, shifting slightly on the rock. 'He constantly mocks my abilities, as though I were a weakling. He irks me with his sarcastic comments about what I do, and belittles me, and mocks my relationship with Vesper. Vesper and I have been through thick and thin - in the fight at Nede, it was us two alone, and we stood hard against insurmountable odds. We forged a bond of friendship strong enough, an understanding and acceptance that runs deep.'
He ruffled his already-messy red-orange hair and closed his eyes, sighing. 'But its not only Cyril that bothers me. Discord has been a bit rampant lately since we've come to Expel. No one seems to care about the imminent things that will happen - we do not need this world, but we must distract and destroy those which will harm us and our plans. And what bothers me the most? The fact no one listens to me!'
He leapt up into the air suddenly, flame bursting around his right hand. He suddenly dived for a patch of greenery - some shrubs that wee just starting to wither away. "SPICULE!" he shouted, releasing the flames down onto the hapless plants and setting them ablaze. He landed not far from there, turning to look at his handiwork.
'It's true, I do not pass myself off often for the intelligence I have, but then, I do not always use it. It only seems I think and see so clearly in the insomnia states such as now - and when I might have a flash of brilliance otherwise - it is dismissed. I know. my pyromanic tendencies and easy-to-please ways make me seem so simple and unrefined - my sense of humor making me look so much more different then what I am.'
He folded his arms across his chest, watching the flames devour the plants hungrily, listening to the cacophony of crackles and pops erupting form the plants. 'I burn away the anger with this, but I cannot burn away the illusions I have forged. I. just wish that people would know me, understand me. like Vesper does. Vesper is a thinking man, so he knows, he can see, and study, and come to realize things. But the others are often so blind, so deluded by outward appearances.'
He shook his head, stepping closer to the fire as it flickered and mesmerized like a seductive scantily clad dancer, feeling the intensity of the magical fire but not bothered by it. 'I have forged myself of fire, refined myself into a flase-apperance - a mask of lies. Indalecio knows, but he also cannot accept the idea among the others - not yet. He himself must consider - it is the resistance of the others to see and understand that bother me so. I have doomed myself into a place where only few can see me for what I am - what I am worth. And though the others do not treat me as Cyril does. I know they think I am a flake, a fluke, and a dud.'
'But then, to an extent they are right. I am always into trouble - non- harmful kinds - and easily amused. I do not forsake them, for they help me keep my peace of mind and sanity, as we do nothing but wait. And wait. They are going stir-crazy, starting to get irritable and snappy with one another as I keep myself occupied, amused, with anything. Burning things, causing some minor mischief, paying Cyril back. sometimes talking with Vesper civilly about various things and learn new stuff from him.' He looked upwards, to the ocean of stars above, his eyes slightly filled with sadness.
'What they see and what I am can never be the same. I do not let myself succumb to the madness of the mindless waiting game - I defeat it with simplistic outlooks and biding my time doing things. But at the heart of this, I suffer for those outward appearances. Vesper says sometimes I do seem like a child, but that it is not necessarily bad. It keeps me going, and it does provide some measure of entertainment for others at times.'
He smiled, a wicked grin of sheer inspired madness. 'And I think its time for another dose of it. Indalecio is awake, and the others would not mind being awoken should it cause Cyril great distress. Besides, I can tell Vesper is awake, and so is Ruprecht. I think Cyril might be the only one truly sleeping. This will be amusing indeed. And if I am wrong, I will probably be forgiven for my eccentric ways as normal.'
He watched as the flames died to nothing, leaving only the charred, glowing ember remains of the plants. He breathed in the crisp, smoky smell of the burned-out fire and exhaled with a happy sigh. 'Okay Cyril, may you actually be dreaming something pleasant that I can ruin.' He laughed then, a laugh all the others knew as his, at the top of his lungs and took off running for the tower. Partway there he vanished -
-And reappeared within the tower, looking around for some old, discarded armor from the place. He found some, slightly blackened from one of his other escapades, and collected it. He also grabbed a metal club, and started up the stairs to where the other Wise Men resided, heading for the hallway that led to Cyril's secluded room. Indalecio maintained his place a floor above the others, a place to think, meditate, and reflect. 'The walls and ceilings - floors, whatever - should be thick enough anyway to keep from awakening him should he actually sleep.'
"Decus, what are-" Ruprecht started, looking at Decus' hands - one carrying the metal club, the other a suit of armor that should ring like a gong.
"Shhh! I'm gonna go terrorize the sleeping terror called your brother," he whispered with a definite giggle. "Are Jibril and Nicolaus asleep?"
"Not really, we were just sitting around passing time - it's been really quiet lately, so we decided to talk about some things and also arrange some new tactics of information gathering. We're not really tired enough yet to sleep after Indalecio first mentioned the possibility of us going out."
"Yes, excitement for you three - I know you all love gathering new bits of information. You thrive for it. Here's some now - a freshly woken Cyril is a cranky Cyril." He grinned, winking at the younger one. "The only others I'm worried about getting pissed at me are Berle, Shigeo, and Marsilio - they're rather irate when woken up rudely, but they are on the opposite end of this floor form Cyril."
"You'll be fine - we'll probably barely hear you. Vesper probably will hear it for sure - you two did get put near Cyril."
"Much to your brother's distaste," Decus added, rolling his eyes. He shook off the darkness and brightened, grinning. "Ah well. Vesper will understand, considering I can't sleep a lick right now and need to do something. Plus, Cyril bad-mouthed Vesper earlier. All's fair in love - and war!"
He whooped then, and charged down the hall, cutting corners and bee lining for Cyril's area. He passed by the joint-room that connected Vesper and his rooms, and saw the light on, figuring Vesper was awake as well. He then turned the corner, and started banging away on the armor, shrieking and causing a racket enough to wake the dead.
Which it succeeded in on Decus' second pass by Cyril's door as it flew open after Decus shot past like a rocket. "DECUS!!!" Cyril roared after him. "Cut that rocket off now or I'll have your head!"
Decus skid to a halt then, almost going ass-over-teakettles trying not to trip and fall. He spun then, a wild look and a grin a mile wide on his face. "But Cyril, I'm only having fun! Lighten up a little!"
"Lighten UP?!" Cyril retorted, his robe disheveled from being thrown on quickly, and unfastened as well. "You're running around at God knows what hour, making a ton of noise, waking me - people - up, and you call it FUN?!"
"Yes," Decus countered with a straight face, trying to keep from laughing, "yes I do."
Cyril screamed then, fully infuriated with Decus and looking about ready to throw a Evil Gate in his direction when Indalecio appeared form thin air between them. "What, pray tell, is this commotion about?" he asked Cyril coldly.
Cyril grit his teeth, biting back any rash answers, his good red eye focused solely on the feiry racket-making Wise Man. "This. person. was running around this area causing a racket enough to probably alert Lacour of our presence, let alone waking me and possibly others up from our sleep!"
Indalecio turned his body slightly to look at Decus, his cool blue eyes looking him over. "And you, Decus?"
"Aw, Indalecio, I'm just all fired up from our planning earlier and just wanted to celebrate our imminent victories. I wasn't trying to cause anyone a problem." He suppressed a grin, although he could not stop the sparkle in his eye. Indalecio smirked slightly, Cyril unable to see it and then cleared his throat, resuming his normal stoic self.
"Cyril, go back to bed and quit making such a ruckus without reason. Decus, much as you may be joyful, could you save it for the morning. It is late, and I am sure others would like to sleep - and you should too. Everyone needs to be rested and ready in case something - anything - should happen. We will show them our best if they dare try to assault this tower."
"All right, Indalecio, I will," Decus said, dropping the items with a loud clang. "Oops." He did notice that it irked Cyril all the more though. "Sorry, clumsy me. I'll be going now. Thanks, Indalecio." He zipped off, bee lining it for his own room as Indalecio turned to mutter something to Cyril before vanishing back to his own area.
Once within the safety of the common room of Vesper and his own, Decus burst out laughing collapsing onto the floor in helpless gales of laughter as Vesper looked up from his book. "Have a good time?"
"Oh, yes. I got off form annoying Cyril more - woke him up good - and also burned off some energy and anger. I think I can sleep now, Vesper."
"Good - and are you okay about what's happened?" the older Wise Man asked, looking Decus over.
"I'll manage. long as I can irritate Cyril without getting into trouble with Indalecio. I think he doesn't mind my getting back at that bag of wind."
"'Bag of wind? Decus, your puns are getting worse and worse." He buried his nose back into the book. "Goodnight Decus - I'll be on my way to sleep soon enough, when I finish this next chapter."
Decus walked into his own room, shedding his robe and crawling into his own bed, sighing happily. The night had started off badly, with him unable to sleep. Now, after letting some things go - despite reinforcing more the fact that he was more the clown of the batch then a thinker - he felt much better with the world.
By D. Mintaka Peal
Author Note: Another side story, this time involving Decus. And other Wise Men, but this is a Decus-centric piece of fiction. My portrayal of Decus may not be entirely true to how he is in the game - not like there's much to work on. But I hope to at least make hi slightly more likeable, and write something poignant [or at least insightful] and humorous all at the same time.
Besides, its Decus, and Decus can only mean trouble.
This takes place early on in the Wise Men's time on Expel, when some greenery might still exist near Eluria, also known as sometime around the first visit to Salva and the whole Alan arc of the beginning of SO2. And no, the title makes little sense - it's a play off his fire-habits and also his Japanese name's angel stats I dug up [see Kaiki no Reiniku for more on that in the Character section.] On to the story at hand!
~*~
Decus was sitting on a rock in the middle of the night, out where some greenery still existed by the Eluria Tower. What hadn't been immediately destroyed upon their arrival had slowly been dying - or being burned by the fiery Wise Man now sitting alone in the dark. Once again, he found he could not sleep, another night where his mind was trapped within the confines of reality and could not escape into the boundless, infinite realm of dreams and sleep. It was only out here, in the calm of night, the cool air - and with things around to burn should his temper rise once more - that he could feel peace at night while awake.
In the tower he knew Indalecio, their leader, was wide-awake as well, for other reasons. It was even speculated that Indalecio never slept - no one of the other Wise Men had an answer, though Cyril was quite sure he did. 'Cyril. that bag of wind.'
Decus had his fill of Cyril more then enough lately, having to listen to the caustic, overbearing walking ego enough in the last few days to make him sick. If it wasn't one thing it was another that Cyril was harping on Decus about. If it weren't for the fact that Indalecio would eradicate him, Decus would have already incinerated Cyril to ashes. The other reason was Vesper - the only voice of reason that Decus knew. Vesper and he were "partners in crime" - Decus looked up to the older Wise Men with respect and awe. Vesper knew the ins and outs of so much, and also was the only person Decus could confide in and trust to help control his temper.
To this day he still had a burning rage about what had happened on Nede, and was fairly certain Cyril was part of the reason for their failures - but there was no proof, and as Vesper had put it, blame would have solved nothing - they all had to work together, despite Cyril's annoying behavior. Neither one could figure why Indalecio had him as a second in command - they all assumed - the other eight Wise Men other than Indalecio and Cyril - that it was merely because Cyril could command the most power of the nine who followed the red-headed, white robed leader. After that were Vesper and Decus, neither of which really would want to be right under Indalecio, yet despising Cyril for their own reasons.
Decus' reasons were fairly simple at a glance - Cyril often belittled him, and criticized what he did. As well, a lack of respect for Indalecio, the treatment of some of the other Wise Men - Ruprecht especially - and other minor offenses. But what burned Decus most about Cyril was the fact that Cyril simply did not care.
T was true to the extent none of them cared about Expel's fate when they went to Energy Nede, but what burned him was Cyril's lack of care for anything at all. First on that list was Cyril's treatment of Ruprecht. Decus cared for Ruprecht like a younger sibling because Ruprecht understood some of Decus' own problems and knew some handy tricks to relieve boredom, stress, and building anger. Plus Ruprecht had made Decus a small device for focusing fire into when stuck inside and felt the need to burn things. It was these little things that drove his compassion for the youngest of the Wise Men, and Cyril's ill treatment of him grated on Decus' nerves greatly. This discounted the fact Ruprecht was Cyril's own brother - Ruprecht admitted his own confusion on the matter long ago to Decus about his mistreatments when he had not wronged Cyril. Indeed, Decus had done nothing to Cyril either to earn what he received from the half-blinded magician.
Past the treatment of Ruprecht, there was Cyril's uncaring attitude towards Indalecio, their leader. Decus had great respect for Indalecio as a leader and fellow man. Indalecio knew Decus was a valuable asset despite the flaws he had, and put him high in his list of trust, sometimes calling him for advice on some matters. Normally their leader talked with Vesper of those matters, and Decus felt honored to be able to assist so directly. The fact Cyril went behind Indalecio's back so often was more than enough to have hatred for Cyril.
'But it's the way he treats me that really seals it,' he thought to himself, shifting slightly on the rock. 'He constantly mocks my abilities, as though I were a weakling. He irks me with his sarcastic comments about what I do, and belittles me, and mocks my relationship with Vesper. Vesper and I have been through thick and thin - in the fight at Nede, it was us two alone, and we stood hard against insurmountable odds. We forged a bond of friendship strong enough, an understanding and acceptance that runs deep.'
He ruffled his already-messy red-orange hair and closed his eyes, sighing. 'But its not only Cyril that bothers me. Discord has been a bit rampant lately since we've come to Expel. No one seems to care about the imminent things that will happen - we do not need this world, but we must distract and destroy those which will harm us and our plans. And what bothers me the most? The fact no one listens to me!'
He leapt up into the air suddenly, flame bursting around his right hand. He suddenly dived for a patch of greenery - some shrubs that wee just starting to wither away. "SPICULE!" he shouted, releasing the flames down onto the hapless plants and setting them ablaze. He landed not far from there, turning to look at his handiwork.
'It's true, I do not pass myself off often for the intelligence I have, but then, I do not always use it. It only seems I think and see so clearly in the insomnia states such as now - and when I might have a flash of brilliance otherwise - it is dismissed. I know. my pyromanic tendencies and easy-to-please ways make me seem so simple and unrefined - my sense of humor making me look so much more different then what I am.'
He folded his arms across his chest, watching the flames devour the plants hungrily, listening to the cacophony of crackles and pops erupting form the plants. 'I burn away the anger with this, but I cannot burn away the illusions I have forged. I. just wish that people would know me, understand me. like Vesper does. Vesper is a thinking man, so he knows, he can see, and study, and come to realize things. But the others are often so blind, so deluded by outward appearances.'
He shook his head, stepping closer to the fire as it flickered and mesmerized like a seductive scantily clad dancer, feeling the intensity of the magical fire but not bothered by it. 'I have forged myself of fire, refined myself into a flase-apperance - a mask of lies. Indalecio knows, but he also cannot accept the idea among the others - not yet. He himself must consider - it is the resistance of the others to see and understand that bother me so. I have doomed myself into a place where only few can see me for what I am - what I am worth. And though the others do not treat me as Cyril does. I know they think I am a flake, a fluke, and a dud.'
'But then, to an extent they are right. I am always into trouble - non- harmful kinds - and easily amused. I do not forsake them, for they help me keep my peace of mind and sanity, as we do nothing but wait. And wait. They are going stir-crazy, starting to get irritable and snappy with one another as I keep myself occupied, amused, with anything. Burning things, causing some minor mischief, paying Cyril back. sometimes talking with Vesper civilly about various things and learn new stuff from him.' He looked upwards, to the ocean of stars above, his eyes slightly filled with sadness.
'What they see and what I am can never be the same. I do not let myself succumb to the madness of the mindless waiting game - I defeat it with simplistic outlooks and biding my time doing things. But at the heart of this, I suffer for those outward appearances. Vesper says sometimes I do seem like a child, but that it is not necessarily bad. It keeps me going, and it does provide some measure of entertainment for others at times.'
He smiled, a wicked grin of sheer inspired madness. 'And I think its time for another dose of it. Indalecio is awake, and the others would not mind being awoken should it cause Cyril great distress. Besides, I can tell Vesper is awake, and so is Ruprecht. I think Cyril might be the only one truly sleeping. This will be amusing indeed. And if I am wrong, I will probably be forgiven for my eccentric ways as normal.'
He watched as the flames died to nothing, leaving only the charred, glowing ember remains of the plants. He breathed in the crisp, smoky smell of the burned-out fire and exhaled with a happy sigh. 'Okay Cyril, may you actually be dreaming something pleasant that I can ruin.' He laughed then, a laugh all the others knew as his, at the top of his lungs and took off running for the tower. Partway there he vanished -
-And reappeared within the tower, looking around for some old, discarded armor from the place. He found some, slightly blackened from one of his other escapades, and collected it. He also grabbed a metal club, and started up the stairs to where the other Wise Men resided, heading for the hallway that led to Cyril's secluded room. Indalecio maintained his place a floor above the others, a place to think, meditate, and reflect. 'The walls and ceilings - floors, whatever - should be thick enough anyway to keep from awakening him should he actually sleep.'
"Decus, what are-" Ruprecht started, looking at Decus' hands - one carrying the metal club, the other a suit of armor that should ring like a gong.
"Shhh! I'm gonna go terrorize the sleeping terror called your brother," he whispered with a definite giggle. "Are Jibril and Nicolaus asleep?"
"Not really, we were just sitting around passing time - it's been really quiet lately, so we decided to talk about some things and also arrange some new tactics of information gathering. We're not really tired enough yet to sleep after Indalecio first mentioned the possibility of us going out."
"Yes, excitement for you three - I know you all love gathering new bits of information. You thrive for it. Here's some now - a freshly woken Cyril is a cranky Cyril." He grinned, winking at the younger one. "The only others I'm worried about getting pissed at me are Berle, Shigeo, and Marsilio - they're rather irate when woken up rudely, but they are on the opposite end of this floor form Cyril."
"You'll be fine - we'll probably barely hear you. Vesper probably will hear it for sure - you two did get put near Cyril."
"Much to your brother's distaste," Decus added, rolling his eyes. He shook off the darkness and brightened, grinning. "Ah well. Vesper will understand, considering I can't sleep a lick right now and need to do something. Plus, Cyril bad-mouthed Vesper earlier. All's fair in love - and war!"
He whooped then, and charged down the hall, cutting corners and bee lining for Cyril's area. He passed by the joint-room that connected Vesper and his rooms, and saw the light on, figuring Vesper was awake as well. He then turned the corner, and started banging away on the armor, shrieking and causing a racket enough to wake the dead.
Which it succeeded in on Decus' second pass by Cyril's door as it flew open after Decus shot past like a rocket. "DECUS!!!" Cyril roared after him. "Cut that rocket off now or I'll have your head!"
Decus skid to a halt then, almost going ass-over-teakettles trying not to trip and fall. He spun then, a wild look and a grin a mile wide on his face. "But Cyril, I'm only having fun! Lighten up a little!"
"Lighten UP?!" Cyril retorted, his robe disheveled from being thrown on quickly, and unfastened as well. "You're running around at God knows what hour, making a ton of noise, waking me - people - up, and you call it FUN?!"
"Yes," Decus countered with a straight face, trying to keep from laughing, "yes I do."
Cyril screamed then, fully infuriated with Decus and looking about ready to throw a Evil Gate in his direction when Indalecio appeared form thin air between them. "What, pray tell, is this commotion about?" he asked Cyril coldly.
Cyril grit his teeth, biting back any rash answers, his good red eye focused solely on the feiry racket-making Wise Man. "This. person. was running around this area causing a racket enough to probably alert Lacour of our presence, let alone waking me and possibly others up from our sleep!"
Indalecio turned his body slightly to look at Decus, his cool blue eyes looking him over. "And you, Decus?"
"Aw, Indalecio, I'm just all fired up from our planning earlier and just wanted to celebrate our imminent victories. I wasn't trying to cause anyone a problem." He suppressed a grin, although he could not stop the sparkle in his eye. Indalecio smirked slightly, Cyril unable to see it and then cleared his throat, resuming his normal stoic self.
"Cyril, go back to bed and quit making such a ruckus without reason. Decus, much as you may be joyful, could you save it for the morning. It is late, and I am sure others would like to sleep - and you should too. Everyone needs to be rested and ready in case something - anything - should happen. We will show them our best if they dare try to assault this tower."
"All right, Indalecio, I will," Decus said, dropping the items with a loud clang. "Oops." He did notice that it irked Cyril all the more though. "Sorry, clumsy me. I'll be going now. Thanks, Indalecio." He zipped off, bee lining it for his own room as Indalecio turned to mutter something to Cyril before vanishing back to his own area.
Once within the safety of the common room of Vesper and his own, Decus burst out laughing collapsing onto the floor in helpless gales of laughter as Vesper looked up from his book. "Have a good time?"
"Oh, yes. I got off form annoying Cyril more - woke him up good - and also burned off some energy and anger. I think I can sleep now, Vesper."
"Good - and are you okay about what's happened?" the older Wise Man asked, looking Decus over.
"I'll manage. long as I can irritate Cyril without getting into trouble with Indalecio. I think he doesn't mind my getting back at that bag of wind."
"'Bag of wind? Decus, your puns are getting worse and worse." He buried his nose back into the book. "Goodnight Decus - I'll be on my way to sleep soon enough, when I finish this next chapter."
Decus walked into his own room, shedding his robe and crawling into his own bed, sighing happily. The night had started off badly, with him unable to sleep. Now, after letting some things go - despite reinforcing more the fact that he was more the clown of the batch then a thinker - he felt much better with the world.