Author note: Hello, to all my readers! I have two announcements to make regarding the status of this fic.

First: It's been about four years since I updated this fic, and for those who are still reading, thank you for your patience! I'll be trying to continue updating and finishing this fic during this year along with "Blood Warrior," so stay tuned for more chapters!

Second: This fic is now crossposted on Archive Of Our Own! Feel free to read it either there or continue here on . Happy reading, everyone!

5. Opportunities

Summary: Zael doesn't take the bad news well, Arganan adjusts to being the Outsider's mouthpiece, and Jirall gets a new opportunity after disownment—from one person he never expected to get that opportunity from.

"He's the Outsider's what?"

Asthar could hardly believe it. It seemed odd, how the Outsider chose the Count of all people to speak for it/them/whatever the Outsider wanted to be called.

"Mouthpiece, General." Therius informed him. He looked to Calista, still sitting by Arganan's bedside. The Count was thankfully a bit more dressed as opposed to earlier as he sat up in the bed. "I'm not sure how to understand that."

"I speak for the Outsider." Arganan shuddered at that, running a hand through his wavy hair. "Makes me wonder if I should've just stayed dead."

Asthar looked to Arganan, frowning. "It's giving you a second chance, Count. I think I would take it."

"I don't think I have a choice as of whether to take it or not. It's already done." He looked to Therius. "Where's Dagran?"

"We have guards searching the castle now." Therius informed him. "Zael is also with them."

A moment later, Zael walked into the room, frowning. "I looked for Dagran," He stated. "Me and all the knights…we searched everywhere for him. Dagran's completely out of the castle. He's gone."

Asthar remembered the anger in Dagran's eyes, when the man attempted to kill him, and he shuddered. "I see…"

"General?" It was Therius that caught his attention. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, Therius." Asthar lied. He saw the brief doubt in his pupil's eyes, but then it faded as Asthar decided to change the subject, looking to Calista as he did so. "I spoke with Jirall earlier. He's residing in his guest room at the moment."

There was something in Calista's face that made Asthar sense pity. "Is he alright?"

"He's calmer now. He wasn't taking his…well, you know, well." He didn't want to mention the disownment too explicitly, but she seemed to get the hint.

"I see." She ran a hand through her silver hair, before speaking again. "Well, as far as we know at this point, we need to find Dagran and also focus on stopping the war."

"What do we do with Dagran?" It was Zael that spoke up, worry lacing his voice. Asthar felt sorry for the lad in that instant. The Outsider's chosen still had a hard time taking it all in.

"He'd be an enemy of the Empire at this point." Therius noted. "Even if he doesn't fall in battle and we, say, capture him, he'd be possibly sentenced to death if not a life of hard labour."

"What!?"

Asthar looked Zael in the eyes, swallowing. "I'm sorry, lad. I don't know if there's much we can do."

"I thought the point of our research was to keep it secret!"

Asthar frowned at Mirania's worried expression. "Miss Mirania, I know we previously did so, but we have to let him know. Especially since he can apparently speak for the Outsider. If we can gain any information from him that could be useful about the dying lands, and how it's connected to the Outsider this way, we can…"

"Save the lands." Mirania finally ended.

"Yes." Asthar breathed back. "That."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Mirania managed. "To tell the former Count?"

"He can help us with research." Asthar asserted. "And if he's more intimately connected with the Outsider, he might find out things about it that we can't find. This is our chance."

"Well…" She paused, then finally nodded. "Alright."

Asthar looked to the library doors, before calling, "You can come in now."

The door opened and Arganan walked in, closing it behind him. Inhaling slowly, he exhaled before looking to Asthar, then Mirania.

"So," the former Count started, looking them in the eye. "Where do we start?"

Mirania gave Asthar a piercing look, one that made the General swallow, before she relaxed her face, assuming a neutral expression as she looked to Arganan. "We were wondering if, given that you're the mouthpiece of the Outsider, you could summon the Outsider so it could speak with us."

Arganan gave her a look. "Really?"

Asthar looked to Arganan. "The more we know about it directly, the more we can see if it is the cause of the dying lands. We've been looking into this since the beginning, and if the Outsider has anything to do with the dying lands—"

"Now is our chance." Mirania finished.

Asthar nodded. "Exactly."

Arganan frowned. "Unfortunately for you two, " He started, "I don't know that works. I don't know if the Outsider would literally possess me, or if I have to give a special incantation or just ask aloud."

"We can try asking." Asthar suggested. "And if that doesn't work, I'm sure we have something on the Outsider in this library." He thought of the medal he gave Zael, the one that was a key to the castle secrets. Maybe he should ask the lad if he could borrow that medal back, if only for a moment.

"Well..." Arganan looked between Asthar, and then to Mirania, reluctance on her face, before the former Count sighed. "Outsider?"

There was silence, for a moment, no answer at all. The former Count's good eye glowed a slightly brighter blue, almost the same colour as Zael's Outsider mark. Mirania jolted slightly, leaning back against a nearby table,

"You wish to know me." A wispy, airy voice merged with Arganan's own, echoing strangely from his lips. Arganan's own body swayed slightly, but managed to stay upright as he (or, rather, the Outsider merged with him) looked to Mirania, then Asthar. "What do you desperately wish to inquire?"

Asthar and Mirania looked to each other, before Mirania started speaking. "What do you know of the dying lands? What is your true nature?"

"Life. Sorceress. Summon...life."

"A Sorceress?" Asthar tried to remember one of the books he'd read in the library. "Life? What do you mean?"

"Give..."

That was when the glow in Arganan's eyes faded, and the older man gasped, stumbling backwards. Asthar quickly caught him, helping him lean against the table before offering him his cane.

"I..." Arganan held his head in one hand, blinking several times as he grabbed his cane from Asthar. "What the bloody hell happened? Everything just turned black for a moment."

"Are you alright?"

"Head hurts. Otherwise, fine."

Mirania paused, extending a hand glowing white with healing magic towards Arganan's head. "May I?"

Arganan nodded, and she brought her hand to just at his forehead, willing the magic to soothe the man's mind. A soft hum escaped the former Count, before his good eye looked to hers.

"Thank you."

Asthar paused, waiting for Arganan to straighten himself, before asking, "Do you remember anything?"

"I felt this surge of energy through me, before my vision went black. I imagine that was the Outsider."

"They said the following words—Life, Sorceress...something about summoning and giving. Do you know anything about that?"

"A Sorceress?" Arganan's good eye widened. "I...know that my ancestor contacted a Sorceress. She summoned the Outsider. There should be a book recorded about them in detail, somewhere in this library, but I can't remember where."

"Then we should look for it." Mirania quickly went to one of the nearest shelves. "I'll start here. It might be key to helping us figure out the Outsider's true nature!"

"What?" Arganan stared at the nature mage scouring the shelves, but Asthar chuckled, putting a hand on the former Count's shoulder.

"She has a good point. Shall we start searching elsewhere in the library?"

Arganan paused, looking to him, before nodding once.

"Let's do it."

"You."

Zael looked up to see none other than Jirall‒C alista's former fiance. Also disowned by his own family.

"Lord Jirall," Zael started, but then he saw Jirall's narrowing gaze. "Er, I meant—"

"Forget it." Jirall snapped, before he shook his head, leaning against the doorway. "Titles aren't going to matter right now. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do."

"At least you're not in jail?"

The suggestion didn't help. Jirall gave him a look, then scowled.

"Sure, I'm not in jail, but at least in jail I'd be somewhere. I have no fiance. No family to go back to. No position. No anything." He spat the last word out, as if it were a curse, and he buried his head in his hands. "You took it from me. All of it."

"I didn't deliberately do so." Zael defended. "And it's not like I have family, either."

"They disowned you, too? Is that why you're a merc?"

Zael shook his head, and he glared at the long-haired blond. "My mum and dad are dead. Murdered in a village raid. I was only a kid."

Silence fell between them. Jirall paused, then asked, "But they loved you, right?"

"What?"

"They loved you."

"Well, um...yeah."

"Mine gave zero shits about me unless I did something right for the family." Jirall waved his arm to the side, a scoff escaping him. "Jirall this, Jirall that. When I told you the world of nobility wasn't easy, I meant it. They expect you to play a role and be perfect at it from the moment you're born, to the day that you die. No more, no less. Like clockwork."

"Like a prison?"

Jirall laughed. "You could say it's like that."

"But you're not a noble anymore." Zael pointed out. "You have freedom."

"But I have nothing. No power over anyone, no money. The life of nobility gives you the feeling of ease when you have power and money. but I have none." Jirall paused, then looked down. "I'm just...like you. And it makes me sick to think of it."

"That's why you look down on us? Because we don't have the same sort of ease you do?"

Jirall fell silent, but Zael guessed that his answer was yes. Zael wasn't sure what to say, for a moment, but eventually something came out of his mouth.

"Life as a merc isn't easy, I'll give you that." Zael finally stated. "But..." He looked up at Jirall, meeting his gaze. "There's freedoms in other ways, too. It's just up to you to figure out what those are."

Jirall stared at him, incredulous, and then a weak laugh escaped him.

"Are you suggesting," He stated, almost spitting it out, "That I become a merc? Like you lot?"

"You always bragged about being an excellent fighter. Supposedly killed a hundred Gurak, when they first invaded Lazulis?" Zael pointed out. He couldn't help but grin slightly at the other man's blanching expression.

Jirall could only laugh a little after a moment, shaking his head. "I'm a lousy fighter. I'd be dead instantly."

"Well," Zael managed, "I learned from General Asthar and from experience. And you already know those poisons of yours well, given your attempt to kill me. You might not have those assassin connections, but you know the world of nobility. You just need to learn to adapt that knowledge to the outside circles."

"What you're saying is," Jirall stated, staring, "You're offering to train me to be a merc."

Zael shrugged. "I guess you could put it like that."

The disowned Rambaldt stared at him even harder, jaw clenching. "Why?"

The Outsider's wielder could only sigh. Running a hand through his own blond hair, pushing strands out of his face, he looked Jirall in the eyes, his voice going soft. "I know what it's like to be out there on your own. It's not fun. The least I can do is help you prepare for that when the war is over."

"If I survive."

"Fair point," Zael managed, with a chuckle, "But still."

Jirall paused, hesitant, and Zael knew that Jirall had every reason to say no, spit in his face, and stomp off.

However, Jirall looked him in the eyes, his gaze blazing with a new fire, and he said something entirely different.

"We have a deal. Teach me."