[ A quiet hum. An mmhm of agreement. Yes, yes, she can see how those factors might put a small cadre of people under so much pressure. She's read brief reports to that effect, hasn't she? About teams of three or four researchers tearing their solidarity apart from the inside out once they're alone long enough. And that's without the added weight of, well, these Expeditions.
Jasnah stays tilted, just so, but doesn't pry any harder than necessary. As if it's enough to make her interest known — she can wiggle her chisel into the crack at some later date. ]
Certainly. I recall reading a thesis about somewhat similar conditions in the warcamps.
[ Sciel nods in return, yes, like the warcamps. She assumes. And it's probably similar, to the degree that it can be. ]
I'm sure it's easier with a larger group. [ There's a huff of a sigh; it's easy to summon to mind what the entirety of the 33s had looked like, once, when there were more than four of them left. ] There'd be...more space for all that to disperse. Probably a chain of command where some well-placed orders could get everyone to calm down. [ She chuckles weakly, raising a hand as if volunteering for the role. In fact: ] Without our Commander, all we had was protocol, and...well, I guess I tried to smooth things out, when I could.
[ Mediating is a natural inclination for her, and it'd been helpful when there'd been some mild infighting. Less so for the more serious matters, when people had already made up their minds about what 'should' happen. ]
[ And just like that. As she'd hoped — as she'd expected — easing off the particulars by a breath or two had opened the field up for more information that she might have gotten simply by pressing questions. ]
And protocol's just words on a page without authority to back it up. [ Something like that. The authority needn't be absolute, but it's nevertheless an important ingredient in the recipe. ]
A bit different from classroom squabbles, I suspect.
Mm, [ Sciel hums in response, frowning a bit. ] not in this case. I'd usually agree with you, but...for most of the people who'd sign up for an expedition, it's more than that. You know going in it's a glorified suicide mission, so people are usually deadly serious about the details.
[ She hadn't been there when Gustave and Lune had argued about protocol, and they'd found records of old expeditions along the way that suggested a breaking down of them, too, but...for the most part, what she tells Jasnah rings true. ]
Definitely more intense than classroom squabbles. [ She confirms, chuckling. ] Though those could also get to be a lot when there wasn't an authority figure around.
[ A tip of the head acknowledges Sciel's correction. Jasnah still thinks — wonders — whether it's realistic or whether the other woman might be thinking too fondly on an institution that must have felt foundational.
But she lets it go. What does it serve to attack a thing that's distant and irrelevant to the current conflict? It would be cruelty for cruelty's sake. And although Jasnah is far from soft, even she has some social lines she does not cross. ]
...How does an Expedition content with disagreement in its ranks?
If the commander is still around? [ Her question is light, almost in good humor, though there's a tightness to her smile. ] Easy. They make the call, put an end to things. And, sure, people will run hot, storm off and make their displeasure known, but...usually everyone's good about abiding by the outcome, even if they don't like it.
[ There's a pause as the obvious follow-up comes. ]
If not, and there's no clear chain of command? [ Sciel sighs, rolling her head to crack her neck. ] And if there's no related protocol, or...it isn't being followed? Then...well, it can be mild chaos. People just start making their own decisions. There've been some cases of outright rebellions, I think. To the degree you can rebel when you're in a little group out in the middle of hostile nowhere.
[ It's the first question that occurs to her — well before Sciel even finishes speaking, Jasnah's thoughts have galloped ahead, wondering why simply losing a commander would leave the group in any kind of chaos. ]
When a companylord falls, one of his captainlords would take his place.
[ The fire crackles on, flamespren dancing along the logs as it burns. Sciel can't help but crack a smile at them, the novelty never fading from getting to witness the little spirits that make up everything in this world. ]
There's always a second in command. After that, though, it's not usually structured the way you might expect. [ "The way you might expect" if you're Alethi, for example, or experienced in any type of war. ] Based on the usual numbers of recruits, I'm not sure it makes sense. We have our strengths and specialties, but no real ranks.
[ Maybe they'd done that in the beginning, but the 33s hadn't been broken down in any real hierarchy beyond the two at the top. Once they were gone, the few that remained had simply worked as equals. ]
[ The political gears are always turning in the back of Jasnah's mind. While she's certain the sample size, makeup, and goals of the average Expedition are mostly incompatible with the complexities of a whole nation, she can't help but wonder whether there are lessons that can't be learned from one and transplanted to the other. Any body designed in such a way that it could — and should — function without central leadership is of interest.
But the fire is burning low, the stars are so high, and the next moon is due to rise. She's not convinced she should ambush Sciel with politics tonight. ]
[ The smile is maintained, but it tightens a little. Her tone and expression suggest it's a joke, though it takes her another moment of chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip to answer. ]
I used a scythe, farming. That translated well into combat. [ beat ] I'm not sure if the teaching played a role, except that I'd gotten lots of experience wrangling people there. I also had these, [ Here she lays a hand on the intricate lines of gilded tattoos that run from her neck down. ] infused with chroma, which let — lets, I guess, present tense — me add another element to my fighting.
[ Literally, as she suffuses her cards with light and dark in turn. ]
So...in the end, I had a good mix of combat ability and a personality that helpfully balanced out some of the others.
[ ... ]
It definitely wasn't anything to do with my cooking.
[ It's...refreshing, somehow, getting to talk about these things. The kinds of details that she'd taken for granted that everyone would know, small world as it had been. It's particularly nice to share it with someone like Jasnah, whose scholarly interest suffuses their many conversations about Sciel's home. So she nods, tracing along one of the lines, following it up her collar to where it ends at her neck. ]
When I got the tattoo, I had them...imbue it with a kind of energy, I guess. [ As always: Lune could explain it more articulately. ] Hurt like hell, but...useful.
[ In the smallest of demonstrations, she holds up a hand and summons between her fingers a tarot card, which appears in the blink of an eye and with a little flash of monochrome light. ]
It wasn't a very common practice. Most people don't need to manipulate chroma like we do, out on the Expeditions.
[ Curiosity gnaws at her. What remarkable willpower it takes not to ask — command? — for the opportunity to touch a line of ink. If the markings weren't on Sciel's actual skin, Jasnah might have even rushed straight to a little experiment. Because the description makes her think clearly and obviously of stormlight and how it infuses gems. ]
Investiture, [ she guesses. Maybe they call it chroma, sure, but that's just like how it's called stormlight on Roshar. Or voidlight. Or lifelight. Or towerlight, even. ]
[ The word is one she's heard more than once in her time on Roshar (naturally, given her increasing time spent around the queen), and so she nods a little with that vague familiarity. ]
Probably. [ She offers, to the 'guess.' The bit about Shadesmar conjures another smile as she echoes Jasnah's words: ] And, maybe..."spectacular, but less safe?"
[ Sciel won't repeat herself, but her curiosity about that other space, parallel to this one, rears its head again as the subject returns. ]
How does it usually look? Investiture. [ Is she using that right... ]
[ Simple, perhaps unhelpful. Jasnah is stuck thinking about whether only chroma can infuse those lines — her gaze still hangs on the base of Sciel's throat, thinking through options. Wondering what's the least dangerous way to test whether she could hold Stormlight without a Nahel bond.
Edging an inch closer, she holds up her right hand. Pointing the tip of her finger to the edge of one line. ]
[ "Bright" is simple, but evocative enough. Sciel's mental image of Shadesmar is based purely on what she's either read or heard from Jasnah (with much more of it being based on the latter), and so she has a rough idea: a sea of beads, a strange, ethereal air, and...now her own tattoos, maybe, illuminated in that parallel space.
The question stirs her from that brief imagining, and Sciel is visibly — though not dramatically — surprised by it. ]
Of course. [ As if it were a perfectly ordinary request. Maybe if they hadn't spent so much time in each other's company, if she doesn't assume the ask is purely academic in nature, if she wasn't a person inclined toward the physical — then it might give her pause.
The way things are, though, it doesn't. Sciel leans forward a little to close the distance between Jasnah's finger and the indicated branch of her tattoos, not yet making contact, but making it easier. ]
[ She traces roughly three inches of ink with the pad of her thumb — a light, chicken-feather touch. Jasnah isn't quite sure what she's looking (or feeling) for. Some spark? Some indication of power, under her finger? She even takes one further step and sips a flicker of stormlight from the spheres on her waist, half-hoping something might happen just with proximity.
Nothing. Hmm. A gentle tap-tap-tap of the edge of her thumb against Sciel's collarbone, and then she retreats. ]
I can't help but wonder whether there's a way to infuse them, here. [ A half shrug. ] Another dangerous prospect, I imagine.
[ Whatever Jasnah is hoping for, she doesn't seem to find it. Sciel watches with gentle interest as the queen thumbs along one of her tattoos, keeping very still: the only movement being the faint flicker of the pulse in her neck.
The contact withdraws and she shifts slightly, intrigued little smile still trained on the other woman. ]
Is it? Dangerous, I mean. [ Let it never be said that Sciel hasn't been willing to be the subject of one of Jasnah's experiment's (thus far, at least). ] And..what would you be hoping for, if you could infuse them?
[ Strangely, Sciel is still able to use chroma, which she assumes is because some of it was as native to her as an individual as to her world. It feels different, though, than it used to. And...truth be told, she also hasn't been in as much need of her weapon and abilities as she had during the Expedition, so its use has dwindled, too.
Would this feel...more natural somehow, given that it's a part of this world where chroma is not? ]
If you have one Invested Art literally inked on your skin, [ Jasnah gestures mildly to Sciel's tattoos but doesn't touch them again, ] I worry that artificially introducing another might prove catastrophic. Not all sources of Investiture play well with one another.
[ She's being too cautious. Probably. But although Jasnah doesn't ordinarily baulk at gambling with lives, she at least needs a clear and evident win condition to make the gamble worth the wager. She doesn't see one here. Not yet. ]
Ah. [ Right. "Invested Arts," as she understands them, are not dissimilar from chroma. ...In at least the most basic of ways. Crucially, though, it doesn't seem it's a 1:1, as the queen's experiment does nothing to activate or alter the web of tattoos at Sciel's collar.
(If the line she'd ghosted with her finger still tingles a little, it's unrelated.) ]
If I can help you learn more about what chroma's like, then maybe you could figure it out. [ She suggests. It's a standing offer — to sit around and spout facts about her world for Jasnah's curious mind to digest — but one that isn't very important in the grand scheme of things. A project at best, but for a woman who has a thousand more critical things on which she could spend her time.
Sciel isn't her keeper, though. Those decisions are for Jasnah to make, given that she's a capable, adult woman. ]
[ Sciel does herself a disservice — thinking that she's not important. And, yes, it's a very practical approach that Jasnah takes to this relationship but...all told, unlocking some new means of leveraging stormlight or another Investiture? It could offer an edge. What if studies like these open up the possibility for storing additional stormlight on one's person? At the lower Ideals, it can leak away so fast. It can't be held indefinitely.
Jasnah lets her gaze trace Sciel's collarbone again. Attention inching along her skin. ]
[ Another silence hangs, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire at their feet. Sciel eyes the other woman with the glint of something in her eyes, though it could well just be the licks of colour from the flames. ]
You could try one of the other lines, [ Sciel speaks slowly, walking the thinnest of ropes over a very dangerous chasm. ] if it might produce a different result.
[ Harmless, isn't it? While it's true she's fairly sure that trying to infuse any other part of the tattoo won't make any difference, giving it a shot probably can't hurt. And if it's in the name of experimentation — of furthering a goal that the Alethi queen has some vested interest in — then there don't have to be any further implications.
There are a lot of options, at least. The marks crisscross her neck and over her collar, disappearing beneath the top of her jacket. ]
[ And that chasm stares back at Sciel — expression void of any echoing glints, save maybe for a flicker of curiosity. Appreciation (again) that the other woman offers herself up to the interrogation.
But Jasnah's hand curls against the makeshift seat and doesn't rise again. Instead, with a shake of her head, she asks: ] Why don't you tell me, instead, about when you first got them? Your lines.
Of course. [ The moment transitions smoothly, marked only by the slight duck of Sciel's chin. ] Well, I had them done when I decided to join the Expedition. Once I'd spent a little time in training, that is. Not so many skills from farming and teaching translated to-...you know. The kinds of things that'd be helpful. The scythe's the only constant, though I wasn't quite as brutal with the crops as I am — was — with Nevrons.
[ Sure, some of the movements had been the same. Some of her strength and hardiness had transferred. But she'd never trained in combat, not until after her life was ripped to shreds by the injustices of life and death. ]
I needed a bit more of an edge. So...I got these. Infused with chroma, as I've said, to...augment my abilities. Make me a little quicker, a little stronger. [ In a small pop of monochrome, a flare of energy appears between her waiting fingers. It's in the shape of a tarot card, though it ripples around the edges with an almost-burning effect. ] It let me learn a few new tricks that've definitely come in handy.
[ Some people in Lumiére are still aghast that people (like Sciel) have chroma embedded directly into their skin. 'Some people' have no idea what it takes to survive on an Expedition, let alone get as far as they did. ]
[ Jasnah has no ground from which to argue against Sciel's augmentation. Given her own use of stormlight, she finds herself sympathetic to someone taking what advantages they can find. Stormlight similarly makes her a little quicker. A little stronger. She can fight off sleep for that little bit longer.
So, nodding along with Sciel's reasoning, she adds: ]
Are such augmentations available to anyone in your world?
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Jasnah stays tilted, just so, but doesn't pry any harder than necessary. As if it's enough to make her interest known — she can wiggle her chisel into the crack at some later date. ]
Certainly. I recall reading a thesis about somewhat similar conditions in the warcamps.
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I'm sure it's easier with a larger group. [ There's a huff of a sigh; it's easy to summon to mind what the entirety of the 33s had looked like, once, when there were more than four of them left. ] There'd be...more space for all that to disperse. Probably a chain of command where some well-placed orders could get everyone to calm down. [ She chuckles weakly, raising a hand as if volunteering for the role. In fact: ] Without our Commander, all we had was protocol, and...well, I guess I tried to smooth things out, when I could.
[ Mediating is a natural inclination for her, and it'd been helpful when there'd been some mild infighting. Less so for the more serious matters, when people had already made up their minds about what 'should' happen. ]
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And protocol's just words on a page without authority to back it up. [ Something like that. The authority needn't be absolute, but it's nevertheless an important ingredient in the recipe. ]
A bit different from classroom squabbles, I suspect.
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[ She hadn't been there when Gustave and Lune had argued about protocol, and they'd found records of old expeditions along the way that suggested a breaking down of them, too, but...for the most part, what she tells Jasnah rings true. ]
Definitely more intense than classroom squabbles. [ She confirms, chuckling. ] Though those could also get to be a lot when there wasn't an authority figure around.
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But she lets it go. What does it serve to attack a thing that's distant and irrelevant to the current conflict? It would be cruelty for cruelty's sake. And although Jasnah is far from soft, even she has some social lines she does not cross. ]
...How does an Expedition content with disagreement in its ranks?
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[ There's a pause as the obvious follow-up comes. ]
If not, and there's no clear chain of command? [ Sciel sighs, rolling her head to crack her neck. ] And if there's no related protocol, or...it isn't being followed? Then...well, it can be mild chaos. People just start making their own decisions. There've been some cases of outright rebellions, I think. To the degree you can rebel when you're in a little group out in the middle of hostile nowhere.
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[ It's the first question that occurs to her — well before Sciel even finishes speaking, Jasnah's thoughts have galloped ahead, wondering why simply losing a commander would leave the group in any kind of chaos. ]
When a companylord falls, one of his captainlords would take his place.
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There's always a second in command. After that, though, it's not usually structured the way you might expect. [ "The way you might expect" if you're Alethi, for example, or experienced in any type of war. ] Based on the usual numbers of recruits, I'm not sure it makes sense. We have our strengths and specialties, but no real ranks.
[ Maybe they'd done that in the beginning, but the 33s hadn't been broken down in any real hierarchy beyond the two at the top. Once they were gone, the few that remained had simply worked as equals. ]
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But the fire is burning low, the stars are so high, and the next moon is due to rise. She's not convinced she should ambush Sciel with politics tonight. ]
What was yours?
[ Specialty. ]
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[ The smile is maintained, but it tightens a little. Her tone and expression suggest it's a joke, though it takes her another moment of chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip to answer. ]
I used a scythe, farming. That translated well into combat. [ beat ] I'm not sure if the teaching played a role, except that I'd gotten lots of experience wrangling people there. I also had these, [ Here she lays a hand on the intricate lines of gilded tattoos that run from her neck down. ] infused with chroma, which let — lets, I guess, present tense — me add another element to my fighting.
[ Literally, as she suffuses her cards with light and dark in turn. ]
So...in the end, I had a good mix of combat ability and a personality that helpfully balanced out some of the others.
[ ... ]
It definitely wasn't anything to do with my cooking.
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Infused?
[ She prompts, asking Sciel to elaborate. ]
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When I got the tattoo, I had them...imbue it with a kind of energy, I guess. [ As always: Lune could explain it more articulately. ] Hurt like hell, but...useful.
[ In the smallest of demonstrations, she holds up a hand and summons between her fingers a tarot card, which appears in the blink of an eye and with a little flash of monochrome light. ]
It wasn't a very common practice. Most people don't need to manipulate chroma like we do, out on the Expeditions.
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Investiture, [ she guesses. Maybe they call it chroma, sure, but that's just like how it's called stormlight on Roshar. Or voidlight. Or lifelight. Or towerlight, even. ]
I wonder how they look from Shadesmar.
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Probably. [ She offers, to the 'guess.' The bit about Shadesmar conjures another smile as she echoes Jasnah's words: ] And, maybe..."spectacular, but less safe?"
[ Sciel won't repeat herself, but her curiosity about that other space, parallel to this one, rears its head again as the subject returns. ]
How does it usually look? Investiture. [ Is she using that right... ]
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[ Simple, perhaps unhelpful. Jasnah is stuck thinking about whether only chroma can infuse those lines — her gaze still hangs on the base of Sciel's throat, thinking through options. Wondering what's the least dangerous way to test whether she could hold Stormlight without a Nahel bond.
Edging an inch closer, she holds up her right hand. Pointing the tip of her finger to the edge of one line. ]
— May I?
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The question stirs her from that brief imagining, and Sciel is visibly — though not dramatically — surprised by it. ]
Of course. [ As if it were a perfectly ordinary request. Maybe if they hadn't spent so much time in each other's company, if she doesn't assume the ask is purely academic in nature, if she wasn't a person inclined toward the physical — then it might give her pause.
The way things are, though, it doesn't. Sciel leans forward a little to close the distance between Jasnah's finger and the indicated branch of her tattoos, not yet making contact, but making it easier. ]
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Nothing. Hmm. A gentle tap-tap-tap of the edge of her thumb against Sciel's collarbone, and then she retreats. ]
I can't help but wonder whether there's a way to infuse them, here. [ A half shrug. ] Another dangerous prospect, I imagine.
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The contact withdraws and she shifts slightly, intrigued little smile still trained on the other woman. ]
Is it? Dangerous, I mean. [ Let it never be said that Sciel hasn't been willing to be the subject of one of Jasnah's experiment's (thus far, at least). ] And..what would you be hoping for, if you could infuse them?
[ Strangely, Sciel is still able to use chroma, which she assumes is because some of it was as native to her as an individual as to her world. It feels different, though, than it used to. And...truth be told, she also hasn't been in as much need of her weapon and abilities as she had during the Expedition, so its use has dwindled, too.
Would this feel...more natural somehow, given that it's a part of this world where chroma is not? ]
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[ She's being too cautious. Probably. But although Jasnah doesn't ordinarily baulk at gambling with lives, she at least needs a clear and evident win condition to make the gamble worth the wager. She doesn't see one here. Not yet. ]
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(If the line she'd ghosted with her finger still tingles a little, it's unrelated.) ]
If I can help you learn more about what chroma's like, then maybe you could figure it out. [ She suggests. It's a standing offer — to sit around and spout facts about her world for Jasnah's curious mind to digest — but one that isn't very important in the grand scheme of things. A project at best, but for a woman who has a thousand more critical things on which she could spend her time.
Sciel isn't her keeper, though. Those decisions are for Jasnah to make, given that she's a capable, adult woman. ]
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Jasnah lets her gaze trace Sciel's collarbone again. Attention inching along her skin. ]
I'd appreciate it.
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You could try one of the other lines, [ Sciel speaks slowly, walking the thinnest of ropes over a very dangerous chasm. ] if it might produce a different result.
[ Harmless, isn't it? While it's true she's fairly sure that trying to infuse any other part of the tattoo won't make any difference, giving it a shot probably can't hurt. And if it's in the name of experimentation — of furthering a goal that the Alethi queen has some vested interest in — then there don't have to be any further implications.
There are a lot of options, at least. The marks crisscross her neck and over her collar, disappearing beneath the top of her jacket. ]
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But Jasnah's hand curls against the makeshift seat and doesn't rise again. Instead, with a shake of her head, she asks: ] Why don't you tell me, instead, about when you first got them? Your lines.
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[ Sure, some of the movements had been the same. Some of her strength and hardiness had transferred. But she'd never trained in combat, not until after her life was ripped to shreds by the injustices of life and death. ]
I needed a bit more of an edge. So...I got these. Infused with chroma, as I've said, to...augment my abilities. Make me a little quicker, a little stronger. [ In a small pop of monochrome, a flare of energy appears between her waiting fingers. It's in the shape of a tarot card, though it ripples around the edges with an almost-burning effect. ] It let me learn a few new tricks that've definitely come in handy.
[ Some people in Lumiére are still aghast that people (like Sciel) have chroma embedded directly into their skin. 'Some people' have no idea what it takes to survive on an Expedition, let alone get as far as they did. ]
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So, nodding along with Sciel's reasoning, she adds: ]
Are such augmentations available to anyone in your world?
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