After suffering a rather swift defeat at the hands of the samurai from the plains, I really didn't know what to do with myself. I supposed that since I didn't have to worry as much about preparing myself to fight on the front lines at the next battle, I should spend my time doing things as a tactician should. A proper one, anyway.

It almost depressed me to think that I would regress in such a fashion, and I had to sit alone in the courtyard some more so I could let it sink in without too much of my outward emotions showing. Lyn taught me that lesson in a silvery flash; let your outward emotions show and you opened yourself up to defeat.

I glanced skyward. It was a beautiful, cloudless, sunny day, and there was only the feather-lightest of breezes dancing through my moderately long hair. I chuckled. Today was not the day for depressing self-re-evaluation. I had work to do.

I immediately sprang to life, in a way, walking to where all of our mutual supplies were gathered. Without touching anyone's private property, I personally checked and tested the sharpness and condition of every blade in the lot, one by one, re-sharpening any that failed my testing, and breaking any that were too close to snapping in the first place (I tell you now, if I can break the sword over a rock, myself, it wasn't worth the hassle). Then I checked on all the spare spellbooks, pretending I knew what I was doing when I was reading them, when I was really just marveling at all the runes held within. How Erk does it is beyond me, but...

I also checked the sanctity of the spare staves that Serra and Priscilla used. I wasn't sure how to tell how much magic still resided in them, but I at least knew enough to look for structural damage or chips in the gems on the end, or whatnot. Again, I didn't really know much of what I was doing, so I feigned satisfaction with my lack of any findings whatsoever and moved on.

I was about to check upon the tension in the bowstrings when I noticed Wil and Rebecca already at the practice range. They were doing more talking than shooting, but there was some practicing going on. I sat back and studied the two for a bit; Wil had more strength in his arms, and it was obvious. His bow had a slightly stronger pull to it, the reinforced iron a little heavier, thicker. Rebecca seemed to have less missed shots, however.

I thought I might join in their game.

Plucking up an iron bow of my own and some arrows, I walked to the practice range next to them and bowed melodramatically.

"I see that you haven't lost your mock flair," Wil greeted.

I grinned. "You only mock me because you know I can split every arrow you fire right down the center."

"You never told me you were an archer, Jason," Rebecca said.

"I'm not," came my swift reply. "But I figure I can make such comments while my beginner's luck is still intact." With a bit flashier of a grin, I drew up the bow, nocking an arrow and drawing back. I'm sure I did so in very poor form, because I heard both Wil and Rebecca giggling at my stance. I let the arrow fly after pretending to aim for a moment, and while I may not have split any other arrows, I did manage a perfect bullseye on one target.

"See? Beginner's luck. Can count on it every time." I preened. I set the tip of the bow down triumphantly in the grass, leaning on the upright weapon.

"Now do it again," Wil commented, the grin on his face almost as wide as my own.

"No," I replied (and very simply!), winking at Rebecca real quick-like. "I think I would like to retire now as the world's most accurate archer, with one-hundred-percent perfectly accurate shots." This elicited much laughter from the three of us, and I made an exit with a polite bow and a wish for them to have a good day.

Weapons and archer morale, check; although I had to lament that I would never again have that one perfect shot I'd somehow miraculously manage to pull off without actually having to train for years.

Next, I wanted to check on our horses and Pegasus. We had five horses and one Pegasus at this point, and I had never really gotten the chance to take a look at them outside of action. Part of me really looked forward to it, so I gathered a basket of carrots to treat our equestrian friends with before heading to our stables.

Upon entering said stables, I came to the very swift realization that our horses were beautiful creatures, and Florina's Huey even more so. I'd get around to them all, but went in order. I stopped by the stall with Marcus' horse in it first; I almost didn't recognize it without all the armor and barding on it. The horse had its head held high and proud, just like we all commonly saw on the battlefield, but seemed friendly enough when it realized I had food. Before I even spoke, it had lowered its head to allow me to pet the fur between its eyes, and I smiled, carefully offering bits of carrot to the beast; it took them from my hand with a very careful, stoic grace. It reminded me of Marcus, himself.

After petting Marcus' horse some more, I moved to the next stall. A brown horse stood there, again, almost unrecognizable without barding and armor. It was a younger, smaller horse, but had the same kind of subtle pride that Marcus' steed had, and it took me little time to figure out that this beast belonged to Kent. His horse was a little more reluctant to accept affection, but the food was well welcomed. The horse's movements were slow and meticulous, but precise, in some weird, animalistic way.

I found that this pattern of horses mimicking their riders' personalities carried on with Lowen, Sain, and Priscilla's steeds as well, with behaviors much like one would expect if they were the beasts themselves (and what a funny thought that would be). Sain's horse was a bit greedy when it came to attention, and I couldn't help but laugh at the near-demand for a third or fourth carrot. Priscilla's horse only had one, and refused a second when I offered it to her. It ate in such a delicate fashion, as well, trying oh-so-hard not to let teeth come in contact with my skin. Lowen's horse was stoic and almost nonchalant, but eager to eat.

This left me with Huey, the ever-famous Pegasus that Florina rode. I was almost afraid to walk up to it, in fear that it would be scared just as Florina was when it came to socializing. Florina walked in at this point, no less, seeing me walk towards her precious flying steed with a basket of unknown content, and this brought worry to her delicate face immediately.

"T- T- Tactician... Jason... what are you doing here?" She spoke, though it was barely above a whisper.

I blinked, then smiled at the shy sky-rider with a nod, showing her the content of the basket. "Checking up on our four-legged friends," I responded, which seemed to alleviate her fears some. She said nothing, instead walking over to Huey, and immediately grooming his wings, lightly brushing them with her fingers. The Pegasus seemed to like this a whole awful lot.

I said nothing; this whole scenario seemed to not need words. I was still nervous about being social to the Pegasus, but regardless, I snapped off a piece of carrot and offered it to the white steed.

Much to my surprise, this Pegasus was nothing like its rider; instead of taking the small piece of carrot I offered by hand, it nuzzled my face with its nose to my right. The basket I held was in my left hand, and while I was turned away, it leaned down, plucking several of the carrots away, dropping them in his stable! I blinked a few times, still stunned at the giant beast's act of thievery. I swear, Matthew would be proud.

"You magnificent bastard," I spoke to the horse, grinning from ear to ear. Florina didn't seem too impressed with the title I gave to one of her best friends, but I glanced to her and quickly added, "I meant that in a good way." She still didn't seem very happy, so I left, briefly bowing and apologizing for offending her. She didn't say much of anything, but that was normal.

Horses, check. Pegasus, double check.

Deciding that the stables were all well and good, I left them, wondering what else I could do as a proper tactician. The term still bothered me, but there wasn't much I could do. I made the bet, I lost, and that was all that could be said. I grinned to myself some more, thinking that it was indeed all Lyn's fault for disarming me so quickly.

She looked very sad after that little contest. I was worried about her, not just for the sake of whether or not she was prepared for the coming battles, but if our friendship was still intact. I confess I considered myself a friend of everyone in my charge, but Lyn held something that I couldn't put my finger on. She looked so sad, so nervous, and so afraid of something. I knew that our feelings were a little stronger than the normal friendship, but I feared that they were too much so. It wasn't wise for a tactician to fall for one of his charges, or vice versa, but I think Lyn was indeed falling for me.

What's worse, I think I'm falling for her.

This is bad. Can I really lead her into combat when I really fear for her life every time she has to defend herself?

This is bad.

This is definitely very bad.