For growing up in Capitol Landing it was a surprise to Leandros he had never visited the Fighter's Guild proper when he thought about it. He spent plenty of time at the Martial Academy and saw plenty of great fighter's come in and out of this place. His meeting with Shaa in the desert rekindled a desire to visit this place especially after hearing about the attack from the Arcane Academy.

The damage was mostly patched up, but there was still a lot to do it was clear to see. Seeing all the work going on, Leandros removes his armor to set it on a stand and rolled up his sleeves. Such work wasn't going to be easy in armor and there were enough fighters here that he didn't feel threatened. It would seem odd to launch another attack so soon.

Leandros strides into the construction site to start asking around and see what he can do. Given his size and stature, lifting heavy things is the best job he can do right now. The knight lifts a large slab of sandstone carrying it off to where it is needed. Dozens of workers are milling about the place doing all sorts of odd jobs.

It was no secret that Cyran cared little for politics.

He rarely paid attention to the people in charge, save for the occasions that he was hired to care about them - and in those cases, it mainly boiled down to petty rivalries and political coups. Cyran had seen a lot of it in his time, and he would just rather steer clear of it altogether. He’d gone to parties with Zarius to represent Darkveil in the past, and the experience was one he would be happy never to repeat. Those kinds of events left a bad taste in his mouth, memories of another life spent currying favor in the galas of Eclipse City.

To be honest, he hadn’t planned on doing much this visit to Sol City. Cyran himself was not the biggest fan of Charon’s Capitol, but work in this region was inevitable. Given the turbulence he’d seen simmering under the surface, it came as no shock there was no shortage of contract killings to pick from, or targets to dispose of. He’d intended on taking a couple, letting Oriole and Andromeda handle some, and then spending the rest of their days holed up in some hotel until it was time to return to Darkveil. But then he’d heard about rebuilding efforts at the Martial Academy, and it would have been… odd if he denied offering his help as a volunteer when asked.

The last thing he wanted was to attract unnecessary attention to himself - and thus, Cyran, Oriole, and Andromeda found themselves spending their afternoon helping the cleaning and rebuilding efforts at the Martial Academy in the wake of its destruction at the hands of… something. Cyran wasn’t quite sure, and at this point eh was too afraid to ask anyone. The heat in the air had forced him to roll up his sleeves and pull his hair up as he and his apprentices moved wood from place to place.

The work was… satisfying, though anyone who looked at Cyran would see that he was struggling somewhat to keep up with all the heavy lifting and menial labor. His carpentry skills, though they’d… grown better as of late, were still rudimentary. So the best thing he could offer was to carry things for others, but while the assassin was fast, he by no means possessed raw power.

Cyran huffed, bending down to pick up another piece of heavy wood before making his way to the nearest wall. Behind him, his apprentices were doing the same, faring no better than him.

With sandstone in one arm, Leandros leans down to pick up the wood Cyran was going for. "Don't worry, I can handle this, just lead the way." The knight grins as he will follow after the elf, ignoring any protest about how much he is carrying.

The lumber is dropped off as is the sandstone eventually, clapping the dust from his hands before making his way back to Cyran. The first focus is on helping move any material or hold it in place, conversation comes second.

"Been awhile, Cyran." He smiles as brightly as he did that day. The dance in the desert was quite the event, surprisingly they hadn't had many chances to catch up since then. This was the part of adventuring Leandros liked the least, the fleeting faces and friendships that tend to fade as adventures pull you apart.

When you do reconnect, usually there's another adventure or disaster to solve. Thankfully this was one of the times where it seemed they could actually have a conversation that wasn't rushed or interrupted by screams of pain, panic, or both.

Before Cyran could move to pick up another plank of wood, someone else intercepted him - he tended at someone suddenly approaching his space, but the man who stood before him had only moved to relieve him of his burden, not attack him, so he forced himself to relax. Much to his surprise, he recognized the tall, broad man who had moved to help him.

Leandros was wearing that same bright look Cyran remembered being characteristic of him from their brief time spent together in the desert. It was not unlike looking at the sky on a spring day - burning bright, but with a gentle sort of warmth. Their acquaintanceship, regretfully, had been brief, and fraught with dragon hunting, but Cyran was happy to see the young man once more. He was aware of the eyes of his apprentices boring into his back, sizing up this sudden stranger they’d never seen before, and made a subtle gesture for the two to relax - Leandros was a friend.

“Leandros, hello.” He greeted once the young knight returned from dropping off his cargo, not without his own warmth. “Yes, it has been a while.” He didn’t bother asking what Leandros was doing here. He remembered that the young man was from Sol City, and even if Cyran didn’t know he was a knight, he could spot the young man’s noble heart from a mile away. It made sense he was here, spending his spare time helping others. Instead, he bent down to pick up another, smaller piece of wood, intent on working as he talked.

“I see you’ve been keeping busy since we last saw one another.” He gestured around them, at the half-built remains around them. “… Do you know what happened here? I offered to help, but I admit I don’t know much about the martial academy.” He didn’t really pay much attention to the fighter’s guild and their comings and goings, but considering Leandros was a local, and a competent fighter at that, there was no doubt he would be in the know.

"Not fully sure on the details actually." Looking around, Leandros found a hammer to start working on repairs in this part of the academy rather than just lounge about and talk. "Apparently there was some sort of skirmish between the Arcane and Martial Academies. Not sure what spurred it on or how everything went down. Seems like a typical disagreement."

While he is far from a skilled hand when it comes to construction, they are at a simple part of the project that is mostly putting things in place and making sure it doesn't fall over. He can handle that, he's done patch jobs at the stables several times before. Noble or not, his family was insistent on the value of actual work. It's not a matter of being able to just hire people to do things for you, it's do you actually need them to?

Each hammer stroke drives a nail completely into the board with seemingly little effort from the man. "You and Del seemed familiar, we didn't really have a chance to talk back in the White Sand Sea. She a good friend of yours then? I can see why she called in your help out there."

“A skirmish?” His eye widened. Somehow, he hadn’t heard of any of this. Cyran did not usually keep an eye on the comings and goings of the organizations in Charon. One would think he might, given that the nature of his profession meant he was often kept up on current events and information, but the fighter’s guild and the mage’s guild were not on his radar. The petty squabbles of the two organizations weren’t really his concern, nor did he feel the need to take contracts that other sides put out. Given that their fighting was beginning to bleed into the surrounding city and was beginning to affect the common folk, perhaps he should keep a better eye on what was going on in the capital.

Not wanting to be the only one standing around, Cyran moved to help position planks while Leandros was putting things together. His apprentices… gods bless them, but they weren’t especially good builders, and had taken to pretending to look busy a couple feet away while listening in on the conversation. When Leandros brought up Del, the two young adults shared an exasperated look, as if to say, here we go again.

Cyran was woefully oblivious to their shared exasperation as he suddenly began to fiddle with the ring secured to a chain around his neck, seemingly without realizing he was. “Oh, Del? We’re good friends, I would say.” She was currently staying with him at Shade’s Valley, which had been delightfully pleasant and… strange, for reasons he could not place. He was surprised at the ease with which he and Del got along, as if they’d known each other far longer than a few weeks or so. They’d even gone on a really pleasant outing once before.

They were friends, he would say, but… there was something that felt substantial about it in a way Cyran couldn’t name. He wanted to get to know her more, Bridge the polite distance between them and become true friends. That kind of feeling was a rare one for him, considering he tried his damndest to keep others at arm’s length for fear they would truly get to know him.

Maybe Leandros would be able to help with that, come to think of it. He and Del were familiar with one another, perhaps he had some insight that would help Cyran. There was an unusual note of hesitance in his voice as Cyran spoke next. “The two of you are well-acquainted, yes? Do you…” He took a deep breath, feeling silly for asking in the first place. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t have trouble making friends. “Do you know what kind of things she likes? Hobbies, favorite foods? I… I’ve been thinking of taking her on another outing back home, and I want it to be something she would really enjoy.”

The look of mild surprise and a smile creep across his face as Cyran reveals his apparent interest in Del. He can’t help but beam at the thought of new found romance, he remembered those feelings well. Hell, he still felt that way about his partner. Leandros continues to work and keep his hands busy as they talk.

”Good friends might be a stretch, admittedly we only worked together once before meeting again in the desert. I won’t speak for her and call us friends, but she is a dependable woman that’s for sure.” A pause to hammer in a board, then position a new one into place.

”But I can offer some advice, you’re likely more aware than I that she is a very practical woman. You don’t need to worry about doing something extravagant or impressive.” Another pause to do actual work that they came here to do. “She seems to like working with her hands. You could make something together, you can learn a lot about a person based on things like that.”

Leandros stretched a bit, just keeping himself limber as they worked. There was a lot to do as he scanned the area. Better get back to it then.

”Just be glad you don’t have to learn dancing or the language of flowers as I did.” He gives a warm laugh as he picks up another plank of wood. 

“I remember a bit of the story. Del told me.” And he managed to glean more observing their interactions in the desert. “You two met on Mount Drakolt, yes?” And there was something about… inhaling a lot of smoke, and Leandros being self-sacrificial.

“I would love to take her to make something…” She was creative, and seemed to constantly enjoy having something to do with her hands. But the last thing Cyran wanted was to take her away from work and bring her to more work. “Perhaps a pottery class or something of the sort.”

He hummed when Leandros spoke of dancing and roses. The romantic connotation of those activities were not lost on him. Those were human rituals, were they not? Cyran straightened, his fidgeting with the chain suddenly increasing. “You’re talking about courting rituals?”

It wasn’t that Cyran was entirely ignorant to romance. He had been married once, though out of obligation rather than love, but he understood how it ought to work. Since his exile he had honestly never given a relationship. Even if he wanted one, those kinds of soft feelings weren’t something he could responsibly have. Not when his life was… turbulent.

“Um. Im not sure if, well, we are… like that.” Were they? He assumed that the reason he got so nervous around her at times was because of their similar abilities that seemed to resonate when they were around one another. “You’re not merely talking about learning the art of floral arrangements and dancing for a friend, are you?”

“More scholars getting lost up there. Seemed to be a reoccurring problem.” They had been told it was happening often, always for different reasons but often enough that it almost seemed better if they abandoned the mountain entirely. Didn’t seem safe for researchers and there wouldn’t always be adventurers to arrive in a timely fashion.

He smiles, the proud expression turning sheepish as Cyran asks about courting rituals and such. It was quite the sight to see such a large and physically imposing man turn shy. “Courting rituals makes it sound so formal.”

What was he talking about? He was being so formal about that relationship. It was a proper knightly courting and Leandros was the one who insisted on doing it this way. He did his best not to be entirely rigid about it, but he did not want to rush things either.

“I will admit, I don’t know how many young folk bother with courting,” he said not considering Cyran likely had at least a century of age in him. “I know full well it is not how many relationships happen these days, but it is what works for us. Don’t think it’s something you need to consider if you are interested in Del. If you’re not ready to declare your intentions like that. As quick as you both are I think for both of your sakes slower is better.”

“They truly need to do something about those missing scientists.” The rumors about the volcano were cause for concern, but almost even more worrying was the sheer number of scholars who had nearly died on Mount Drakolt.

“Ah, well…” Cyran shrugged, suddenly sheepish. Perhaps courting was an old fashioned way of talking, but he’d been raised centuries ago with the ingrained manners of a nobleman, especially when it came to formally going through the steps of marriage with a prospective spouse. All in anticipation of an arranged marriage, of course. It had never occurred to him that those were things he could simply… do himself, with someone he genuinely cared for. The way Leandros suddenly turned bashful, though, as his thoughts drifted towards the person in question, told Cyran that the young knight was indeed speaking about romance. Seeing the normally confident man so smitten was endearing, though.

“I’m sure most don’t these days, but it’s the only way I know how to think of romance.” He had to suppress a smile at being thought of as the younger one. “But that’s not the point… Del is amazing, I’ve just - I’ve never considered that there would be anything in store for me in life more than friendship.” Much less if that was something Del wanted, as well. Would he mind exploring that kind of relationship with her?

… No.

But he was getting ahead of himself. That was making a lot of assumptions about himself and Del. But at least, perhaps, that was something they could figure out together, if she was amenable. Cyran smiled at Leandros, moving to readjust and hold up a wooden plank while the taller man nailed it into place. “Taking it slow sounds like the best option, presuming we even have… something in the first place. But first, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her about that pottery class.”

“Believe me I did not expect to take such a path either. I met my wife, Apogee, as a result of our families setting us up on a blind date of sorts. I believe my uncle said that I was ‘repressed and not fully enjoying my life.’” He can’t help but laugh, Uncle Edmund wasn’t entirely wrong. For reasons he won’t burden Cyran with, he has up until late been quite the repressed man. “It was only after seeing her for the third or so time I broached the subject of courting. I wanted to show I was serious, but I did not want to rush her or put any untoward expectations on either of us.”

Leandros lets out a breath as he nails the last bit of board in place for this section of the wall, now set for actual construction workers to turn into something useful. He motioned for Cyran to follow him to a spot where they can take a break, grabbing a pair of water skins off a nearby table.

”It won’t be like any fight, that’s the biggest struggle I had. I knew a lot about fighting and discipline, it is hard to know how to put that guard down when you’ve only ever been taught to keep it up. Just remember to be slow with yourself as well.”

“Sometimes traditions work.” Cyran nodded along to Leandros’s recounting of his own romance and marriage. Wasn’t he a bit young for such a union? Cyran supposed he couldn’t judge - he’d only been 72 when he was formally engaged to his own wife. And if it worked for Leandros and Apogee, and Leandros was as truly happy as he seemed to be, then it was a beautiful union indeed. “I wish you and your wife happiness and success together.”

Was it right for him to consider a relationship with his own lifestyle? He thought back to Gerhart’s question when they fought those Cave Fishers in Dragon’s Cradle. He’d told Gerhart to go for it then, but… his own situation was a bit different. Del was strong and capable, there was no question about that. But Cyran couldn’t subject her to what it meant to be tied to an assassin whose life was subject to peril at any moment. He was careful, he covered his tracks. The Specter left no trace. But he could never deal in absolutes, lest he be lulled into a false sense of security…

Taking it slow was probably the best while he was still figuring things out. What he wanted, and what she wanted. And if he was going to initiate any kind of romance, he needed to do it properly, the way she deserved.

He took a sip of water, watching the construction efforts around them. With so many hands contributing, things were coming along smoothly, in his opinion.

“Romance is… not something I am accustomed to.” He admitted with a shrug. “Marriage, I understand. But this is another matter entirely. Thank you for your assistance. In both construction and advice. You've given me a lot to think about." He rubbed at the back of his neck, expression sheepish, but grateful.

"Marriage and romance are far from the same thing." He chuckled softly as he took a drink. "My mother is a shrewd and political woman...had hoped to marry me into a family with higher standing and advance the Aurthurian name....Maria was a nice enough woman, we still talk at the occasional function, but both of us knew we were settling. And I still had dreams of taking travels across Charon, didn't want to leave someone behind or have that burden."

He pauses and lets out a breath before a smile tugs at his lips. Leandros isn't the smartest man, but he can sense the hesitation in Cyran. They may come from different worlds and operate in different realms, but he felt he held the same feelings.

"I understand the hesitation is what I'm saying....You're a warrior...a fighter...it's all you've really known, so doing something seems terrifying doesn't it." He turns over a hand to look at his palms, broad and calloused. "Your hand feels like it was only ever meant to hold a weapon. Holding another person seems like a dream you will never be afforded." The hand drops and he gives a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I am sorry, I've started rambling again, haven't I? I do not mean to proselytize to you...It is not often that I am asked to speak of such things, so I suppose I have been holding those thoughts for sometime. If you ever wish to talk more in a...not so public setting." He gave a half-smile looking to all the people working and milling about. "Search out Bluescale Manor, my home here in Capitol Landing. You would also have chance to see the fruits of our labor. The dragon's head has made a fine piece over the fireplace mantle."

Cyran winced in sympathy at the story. “I’m glad it turned out amicably between the both of you.” In his experience, such failed arrangements were not often as neat and pretty, in his experience. Perhaps he was simply jaded. The politics Cyran was used to were carried out between scorned moon elves of Eclipse City all scrambling their way to positions of power for coveted seats in Sol City. Here, he supposed it was only natural that things were different. Leandros deserved the kindness and peace that the world could offer him.

He rested his hand on Spell Slicer on the hilt of his belt. Leandros was right - there was a weight to his daggers that was familiar. Years of experience had forged a master’s command of the blade, one he understood better than anything. He was so accustomed to the feeling of the blade’s hilt in his hand and the cold of steel that he was unsure if he could even properly grasp the warmth of another person.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that Leandros had finished talking.

“There’s no need to apologize. I appreciate your insights. You clearly have healthy understanding of matters of the heart, and love your wife dearly.” Their situations were not quite the same, but if Leandros could allow himself to follow what he wished, then… maybe not all hope was lost for Cyran. “And I shall take you up on your offer if I have any more questions.”

He managed a small laugh at the mention of the dragon. “A far less fortunate lair than it had hoped for, I’d imagine.” But he had a feeling it was a proper symbol of honor for the Arthurian clan.

He’d nearly finished his water, which Cyran figured was a sign that this break had gone on long enough. With a respectful nod to Leandros, he stood, and started looking around in search of more work.

"Plus Apogee is much more eloquent when it comes to these kinds of things. I am sure she would be a much bigger boon to these efforts than I." He smiles and gives Cyran a pat on the back before standing to stretch once more, giving a good laugh at Cyran's comment about the dragon's new lair.

It was time to get back to work for the pair and there was plenty to do. Leandros' services were once again called upon to lift heavy things from point A and carry them to point B. Before the work was over for the day he would make sure to stop and see Cyran off, once again giving the offer of visiting Bluescale Manor. Though he does sheepishly admit it could not be tonight, amicable as his wife his, for everyone's sake he wouldn't just bring a visitor in unnannounced with no chance for preparation for anyone.