Dirandau: "Rrrr…that damned strategos has gone completely nuts if he thinks I'm going to do that…"

He held a paper in his hand, stating what he was to learn for the next month.
Dirandau: "Fucking economics….I don't need that! What does a soldier need to know about economics for war?? You go in, kill people….and that's that….no money involved…."

The messenger just stared straight ahead. He hated bringing messages to that brat.

Dirandau thrust the paper back in his hand.
Dirandau: "Unbelievable....rrr...."
He then said something low and unintelligible, and went over to his desk. The messenger took this as meaning that he could go. He started for the door.
Dirandau ran at him full-speed, taking him to the ground. He then proceeded to beat the messenger with as much vehemence as possible.

Dirandau: "I didn't give you leave to go!!"
Dirandau got up, and stepped back. The messenger clasped a hand to his bloody jaw
Dirandau: "Now you have my leave to go. Take that paper to Folken, and tell him he can go fly off the roof of this ship if he thinks I'm really going to study those things...I'm sick of his decisions…"
Messenger: "Please, forgive me, but I can't do that."
Dirandau glared at him.
Dirandau: "And...why not?"
Messenger: "He isn't seeing anyone today. It's sort of a...day off for him."
Dirandau: "I don't care! Go and see him anyway!!"
Messenger: "But...I'll be executed if I do that...."
Dirandau: "And, your point is.....?"

The messenger blinked. Now he was in real trouble. If he did go, he'd be executed. But, if he didn't, he'd lose everything he had gained, because he'd have upset the precious creation of the sorcerers. He might even end up as fodder for their experimentation.
Dirandau tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for an answer. Tap, tap, tap....like a metronome of doom.

Messenger: "Forgive me, sir...it was not for my own safety that I suggested that. It's just...well....if I were executed, then I wouldn't be able to get back here, and tell you whether he had listened to me or not."

The messenger fidgeted nervously, as Dirandau glowered at him.

Dirandau ripped the paper away from him.
Dirandau: "Rrr.....you idiots are nothing but trouble...."
He walked away, saying something about how pathetic other people are, and wondering why the hell he had to do things like this himself.

The messenger rolled his eyes.
:: "It's not like he does anything here all day, anyway...."::
He hurried along his way, glad to have been saved from death for another day.
Folken was leaned against the back of his chair. He was exceedingly tired this morning. Hundreds of requisition forms to fill out....orders to make...recruits to look over.... and about a million other things he couldn't remember at the moment.
Ever since he had left his position as a sorcerer, he'd felt a need to prove that he was still loyal to Dornkirk-sama. .Dornkirk-sama had been unhappy that one so intelligent left a position where intelligence is greatly needed.
So, Folken tried to appease him by doing as much work as he could possibly find.
He was glad to have a moment to himself. Quiet solitude...the silence felt like cool water all around him. He closed his eyes, and heard the distant lull of violins, playing melodies of Fanelia. Sometimes, he just missed it so much....the beautiful lands....the people...his family.....his dear brother, Van.
He sighed.
He had wanted so much to protect his brother from everything. That gentle soul was meant for better things that fighting. He'd often imagined that maybe Van would be a writer, or a poet. Never a king, and most definitely not a fighter.
He sighed once more.
Now Van would have no choice but to rule Fanelia one day. And, there was no one who could prepare him now...they didn't understand him like Folken did.

::"One day, Van....we'll be together again, one day....when peace comes to Gaea, and all her people are-"::

The doors to his quarters slammed open, expelling him from his peaceful thoughts.
Dirandau: "Stratetgos! I demand reparations for this!!"
Folken stared at this very loud young man, wondering just how he got past those guards.
Folken: "Who are you?"
Dirandau: "That doesn't matter!"
He threw the papers at Folken.
Dirandau: "I want you to fix this…now!"

Folken rubbed his tired eyes, and looked over the paper{{{{…that he'd written at about 4:00 am….after about three hours of sleep….in bad lighting….
Aya, his hand-writing there was terrible…it was obvious that he'd been overly tired when he wrote it. Or, maybe it just looked bad because he was tired now?
:: "Have…to…stay….awake…." :: {{{{Maybe we shouldn't include this?}}}}

It was just an average requizition form. There was one made out every month for every single recruit in the Zaibach army. This was a way of ensuring that all soldiers got everything they needed, such as uniforms and food. It also ensured that they were kept on a rigorous training and studying schedule. That was how Zaibach was able to have such young soldiers.

He couldn't find a problem, so he laid it down on the table. He yawned, and stretched, seeming to have forgotten that Dirandau was there.

This, of course, infuriated Dirandau. It seemed that Lady Patience avoided him altogether.
Dirandau: "Well????"
Folken opened one eye.
Folken: "Well….what?"
Dirandau: "Rrrr……Aren't you going to fix this??"
Folken shut his eye again.
Folken: "No, not now. I see no problem with those papers. Now, leave, and I hope you appreciate the fact that I haven't had my guards 'escort' you away."
Obviously, Folken intended to say no more.

Dirandau glared at him.
Dirandau: "I'm...not…..leaving…till..you….fix..this…………"
Folken completely ignored him.
No one EVER ignored Dirandau….ever!
Dirandau ran at Folken, and attacked him. He struck Folken's prosthetic arm. He recoiled in pain, clutching his poor injured arm.

Folken stared at him, surprised by his audacity.
Folken: "Who is your commanding officer? I need to know who is responsible for such an irresponsible, reckless recruit."

He still clutched his arm, which was now red and throbbing.
Dirandau: "Y..you are….."

Folken blinked. He didn't remember ever seeing this boy before….and, certainly, if he were in charge of him, this boy would be better behaved….
He looked at the papers again. He hadn't bothered looking at the name before….Dirandau Albatou. He was quite puzzled.

Folken: "What exactly was your problem with this?"
Dirandau pointed out some of the areas of study Folken had put him down for.
Folken: "And….the problem with those is….what?"
Dirandau: "They're useless to me. I'm not taking them."
Folken: "How would you know what is useless for you to learn?"
Dirandau looked indignant at the fact that someone would even dare question him.
Dirandau: "I just know."
Folken looked down at the list again.
Folken: "You don't think you need to learn strategy?"
Dirandau: "Ha! Of course not! I know what I'm doing, I don't need someone to teach me how to go in and attack someone…"
Folken: "Without a plan, you'll fail at many missions."
Dirandau glared at him.
Dirandau: "I'm not arguing with you….Just fix thi-"
Folken: "There will be no more discussion about this. You'll do as you are told."
Dilandau began glaring at him. However, due to Folken's blank facial expression, Dirandau figured out early on that he wasn't going win in a staring contest.
He eventually gave up, and started for the door.

Dirandau: "It doesn't matter….I'll just have to do what I did with all those other useless subjects you've given me in the past."

He would've continued walking, but Folken grabbed him by the injured arm.
Dirandau: "Aya!!! Let go…..!"
Folken refused to comply.
Folken: "What do you mean…what you did with all the others?"
Dirandau laughed.
Dirandau: "I don't do anything I don't think I should. I just..sort of……threw them out the window."

Folken stared at him for a moment.

The sorcerers had intended Dirandau to be a leader…to lead important missions for Zaibach. Because of all the work they'd done on him, he'd be a great help in the war effort.
However, in that 'interview' with Dirandau, Folken found him to be irresponsible, brash, tactless, reckless, immature..…Most definitely not even an adequate leader, let alone a good one.
And, with his education, or lack thereof, he wasn't qualified to take any other sort of job, either.

The news that Dirandau wasn't so far along as Folken had thought was a bit alarming. Not only did they expect Dirandau to be a top leader, but they were also planning that he be made one soon….most likely within a year or two.
This was very bad.

:: "If only his caretakers had just come and told me…" ::
If they had told him about this, he could've taken care of it..it wouldn't be such a huge problem. As usual when dealing with children, the problems they gain as children become worse when they reach adulthood….like a warp in a wood wall.

Folken sighed. This was one of the disadvantages of Zaibach's rigidity. It instilled great loyalty in the soldiers…but the cost was that they were terrified of admitting a problem existed. [No one in Zaibach knew the meaning of the phrase, "Don't shoot the messenger."]

Folken released Dirandau's arm. Dirandau took this as permission to leave.
Folken: "Stay where you are."
Dirandau rolled his eyes, and glared at Folken…a difficult feat to perform with one's facial features.
Dirandau: "Why should I? You're not doing anything for me."
Folken: "Because I have a higher rank than you, Lieutenant. That's why."

Folken picked up a large pile of those papers he was looking over, and handed them to Dirandau.
Dirandau: "What's this for?"
Folken: "You are going to help me. I need to take these down to some of our warrant officers."

He was going to get rid of all those extra duties. The warrant officers kept track of who did what. Even the generals had to submit plans to them. [Though, Folken was probably the only higher-up who actually came down to them in person.]

Dirandau: "Why???"
Folken: "Don't ask, just do it."
Dirandau narrowed his eyes at Folken. Folken did the same.
Dirandau: "No."
And with that, Dirandau dropped the papers all over the floor.
Folken: "Pick those up."
Dirandau folded his arms. Foolish man….to make such a request from one such as Dirandau. Didn't he know that Dirandau never did anything he didn't want to? Didn't he know that Dirandau was in control of everyone around him? Foolish, foolish man…

Folken sighed, and picked them up himself. It was going to take a lot of work to get Dirandau into shape.
{{Sorry that this chapter was short.
I just didn't feel the need to lengthen it just so that it would be deemed proper.

And, as for my system of rank….I'm just taking liberties with the US navy system of rank [Since I happen to be a sailor], and…well, just my imagination (I've yet to see any real system use the phrase "Higher-up" when describing their officers.)

Okay…that's all for now.
Happy trails.}}