Work Text:
The Dijiang was quiet as usual, in the early hours of the morning. The lights were still dimmed, nightshift in the midst of rotating with the morning shifts, most of the inhabitants of the space craft just slowly waking up, if even at all.
Most operators were still making their way through morning routines. Engineering had only just begun the day’s diagnostics, and even the bridge lacked the usual bustle, still quiet and only manned by the minimum of personnel required to keep everything running smoothly.
The Endministrator was already awake.
Earlier than usual, if only by an hour. He did value his rest, after working himself into a fever, admittedly.
His cup of tea sat beside his terminal, untouched, while the first reports of the morning slowly accumulated across the display, the shift changes tapering by and diagnostics being logged into the data system.
It had, somehow, become one of his favorite hours aboard the Dijiang.
Before the meetings begun, before the requests started piling up… Before someone inevitably appeared with another stack of paperwork.
Instead, it was peaceful. Quiet.
He reached for his pen.
Paused.
Without really thinking about it, his eyes drifted toward the soft lounge across the office.
… Empty.
The red blanket remained folded over the armrest where Camille had left it last. His latest witchcraft puzzle still sat on the low table, missing only a handful of pieces.
Usually, by now, the Sarkaz would’ve entered the office. He glanced at the clock, confirming that something seemed… odd.
Humming softly, the Endmin opened his Baker app on his terminal. Then, the chat with Camille.
[Camille] is typing…
Looked like Camille had either the same thought as him, or perhaps something had happened. He waited a moment, seeing what the vampire would write to him. Another moment passed. Frowning softly, the Endministrator thought of an opener for their conversation.
Endministrator: Got a feeling you haven’t submitted leave applications for quite a while.
The response came almost immediately.
Camille: Leave? No. I’m actually trying to type something.
A fond smile crept onto his lips as he read the message. Despite everything, Camille still messaged him in a very… professional manner, so to speak.
Endministrator: I didn’t notice you’re typing a toast. I thought you went offline again.
Camille: I am confused about something. I want to discuss it with you.
I … I have not been dreaming recently. In the past, whenever I close my eyes, I would dream about being trapped in my childhood home with no exit in sight.
Now, that was rather surprising. The Endmin re-read the message a few times, frowning slightly. Something about the thought of Camille plagued by his past to the point of unrest every single night made his chest ache unpleasantly, his fingers suddenly feeling a little colder. He was no stranger to nightmares, himself, by no means. And yet, that was exactly why he knew how they could wear one down.
Endministrator: You got a very keen sense of hearing. The sound of operating machinery might be too noisy for you.
Camille: No. Seš'qa is even louder when it cruises in the skies. It is far noisier than Dijiang.
Endministrator: Wait. I just realised it. You used to have recurring nightmares. Not dreaming anymore means your sleep quality has improved.
I get weird dreams every now and then, but sleeping on Dijiang does feel a lot better.
I guess it’s because DIjiang is my “home” and makes me feel safer. Perhaps you’re feeling the same thing on the ship.
Camille: After I became an Agaš'mekanaz, I was constantly traveling to new mission sites. I hardly stayed in one place for more than a week.
I treated Dijiang as one of my many safe houses. I never expected the place to become anything else.
At first, I came to Endfield because I wanted to repay your trust.
But now, I hesitate whenever I leave … and I feel a constant urge to return.
He couldn’t help the smile that brought to his lips, as he read the words.
Over the years, the Dijiang had become a home to many, from all around Terra and Talos-II alike. And yet, whenever an operator would tell him they felt at home, here, with everyone, his heart skipped a beat. It reminded him why he did what he did, what Endfield stood for.
Endministrator: I think it’s you. You learned how to open up and join the community, and the community responded in kind.
Camille: So it’s not the location, but the people who matter?
Endministrator: I’m glad that we have become another “stop” for you, a home that you can return.
Camille: …..
When I sold the house at Seš'qa, I believed that I no longer required a place to head back to.
You taught me otherwise. I learned to admit the existence of my loneliness and my preference for good company… It proved easier than I thought.
Endministrator: When you got a mission to run, toast me on Baker. Don’t just run off without a sound. And try to get back quickly.
[Camille] is OFFLINE
[Camille] is ONLINE
Camille: Of course. I will be back.
Warmth.
That’s what he felt, in that moment.
A soft and gentle warmth, slowly spreading through his chest.
Deciding to leave Camille to whatever business he had gotten up to, he simply returned to his paperwork, perhaps a little more enthusiastic than usual, at an hour so early, with something so mundane.
The rest of the day passed as most days did aboard the Dijiang.
Meetings, status reports, a request from Engineering regarding power redistribution for the eastern sector. On top of that, three deployment approvals had made their way onto his desk. Then, one disagreement between Logistics and Resource Acquisition that somehow found its way onto his desk as well, despite both departments being capable of either resolving it themselves, or going to the respective heads of said departments.
It was simply how Endfield operated.
There was rarely anything that happened without the Endministrator knowing. Every report, he’d read carefully and thoroughly. Every request sent to him would be considered. Every deployment planned with his help or at least have him have the final say.
Life aboard the ship moved steadily onward, as it always did.
Still…
Every now and then, almost absentmindedly, the Endministrator found himself opening Baker on his terminal.
No new message.
Camille had said he was busy, though he hadn’t given a time window. As a temporary Operator and registered Keeper, he had more leeway when it came to things like these. Not constant required presence, no need for leave requests if it was something that would keep him overnight.
More so, the Agaš'mekanaz had never been one for idle conversation over text, preferring to speak in person whenever circumstances allowed it.
Well. When it came to the Endministrator, that is.
Idle conversation just weren’t a thing Camille found interest in. Not unless it was with a specific raven-haired man, it seemed like.
Regardless… The Endministrator caught himself smiling whenever his eyes happened upon the most recent message.
Of course. I will be back.
Simple. Straightforward. Entirely Camille.
And yet, the lounge remained empty.
Come midday, Fiona had left him a message, saying she just received notification from Seš'qa that Operator Camille had been requested for certain affairs. That was all.
No reason given. No formal request placed. Just a quick heads-up sent by the Heads of Seš'qa. By the sounds of it, it seemed as if it had been something urgent and matters rather confidential.
Not one to pressure their allies or cause issues when there was no valid reasoning to, he simply instructed Fiona to thank them for the information and to remind them that Endfield would always lend a helping hand, if needed.
By evening… There was still no sign of Camille. No Baker notification either.
The Endministrator frowned, though only briefly.
Seš'qa was a city that always seemed to bustle with activities and kept the Keepers busy, from what he had gleaned from conversations with the vampire, but also from the reports and logs provided by the Dijiang’s database. If the Head of Command had required additional consultations or workforce, Camille would stay and aid.
After all, he was a Keeper first and foremost. An Endfield Operator secondary.
He trusted in the man’s work. He trusted in Camille.
And yet, it did not stop him from checking Baker every once in a while.
Outside, in the hallway, the light slowly dimmed from white into a softer yellow and a shift rotation begun.
“... You’re still here?”
The Endministrator looked up.
Perlica stood in the doorway with a datapad tucked beneath one arm, seemingly a little surprised to see the commander still in his office at this hour.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
She simply smiled at that. “I was finishing tomorrow’s deployment roster.” Her eyes drifted toward the reports stacked neatly atop the desk, clearly already done and taken care of. “And… what about you, Endmin?”
“Oh.” He blinked once, as though he only just remembered why he remained. Gray-blue eyes glanced at the clock on his terminal, a sheepish look on his face. “I simply lost track of time.”, he tried to deflect.
Perlica regarded him quietly after his response. She had worked alongside the Endministrator for long enough to distinguish genuine absentmindedness from convenient excuses. “... Are you… waiting for Operator Camille?”
The question caught him off guard, and yet, it was Perlica. She had seen enough of their interactions to have a… feeling of their… relationship.
There was no fooling her, after all. The Endministrator rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassment tinting his cheeks just so. “I suppose I was expecting him to return.”
Perlica’s expression softened. As much as she liked to tease the two of them, she could also see that, perhaps, it weighed a little heavier on the Endministrator’s shoulders than he’d like to let on. “I imagine the Keepers kept him occupied.”
“Yeah… I’m sure they did.”
Perlica couldn’t help the soft smile at those words. In a way, it was sweet, to see the Endministrator looking so… human.
“I’m certain he’ll be back soon.”
The Endministrator returned the smile. “So am I.”
Barely an hour, a notification appeared on his screen. Faster than he’d admit, the Endmin opened the chat.
[Camille] is ONLINE
Camille: My apologies.
The Head of Command requested my continued presence. I was unable to depart as scheduled.
Just as he had expected, then. And as Perlica had suggested. It seemed there really had been business requiring his presence quite urgently.
[Camille] is typing…
[Camille] is typing…
[Camille] is typing…
Camille: I remembered your request. I did not… wish to leave without informing you. Or stay in Seš'qa for this long.
That faint, fond smile made itself present once more, reading those words. Always mindful and attentive, he could almost hear Camille’s voice in his head. Though, the last thing he wanted to was for the Keeper to feel bad simply for fulfilling his duty, now that just would not do.
Endministrator: I was beginning to wonder whether Seš'qa had decided to keep one of my best Operators from me.
Camille: They would attempt no such thing.
Though the Head of Command did express appreciation for my continued assistance.
Endministrator: I suppose I’ll forgive them this once, since they expressed gratitude.
[Camille] is typing…
Camille: I shall return tomorrow morning. There are still some loose ends for me to tie up, before I can depart. My arrival is estimated for 11 sharp.
Endministrator: Be safe.
I’ll be waiting.
Camille: Understood.
I will see you tomorrow, Endmin.
[Camille] is OFFLINE
A relieved sigh left the Endministrator, as he slumped into his chair with a weight lifted off of his shoulders that he didn’t even know was there to begin with before.
The day had been a great example in showing just how much he had gotten used to Camille’s presence in his office, how much they had fallen into a routine. It simply felt… emptier, without him. Quieter in an uneasy way. Almost unfamiliar now, strangely enough.
Morning came earlier than usual. Even earlier than the day before.
It wasn’t due to anything… drastic. Or out of the ordinary. His alarm did not ring sooner. The Dijiang’s schedule had not changed. But rather, the Endministrator simply found himself awake before his usual time, even his earliest time that he wished to wake up at.
The raven-haired man laid in bed for a few quiet moments, staring at the ceiling of his quarters. Sleep did not return to him, he knew it would avoid him for the rest of the morning. Yet his alarm clock seemed to judge him silently, as it displayed the hours of the early morning for him.
It was still too early.
Far too early.
He could have easily afforded another half an hour of sleep, at least, before preparing for the day’s work. Instead, he sighed, pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“So much for getting enough rest.”
The corridors were only just beginning to stir, the lights still dimmed and a soft yellow.
Members of Engineering passed by with steaming mugs in hand, exchanging sleepy greetings. Somewhere further down the hallway, someone yawned loudly enough that it echoed off the metal walls.
The familiar hum of the Dijiang greeted him like an old friend, regardless, as he made his way along the corridor towards his office.
He had told Camille that it felt like home.
He hadn’t expected the Sarkaz to agree, in his own way, that it did.
And yet, it was a message that he remembered fondly, and knew he would do so for the foreseeable future.
Perlica looked up from her terminal when he entered his office, assumedly sorting the papers for the day into sections for him to work through. “... Good morning, Endmin.”
“Morning.” He fell into his chair, tired before the day had even properly begun.
“... You’re early.”
“So I’ve been told.”, he tried to wave her off.
“... Earlier than usual.” She glanced at the clock. “Nearly forty-five minutes earlier than usual.”
The Endministrator followed her gaze, before he let out an almost sheepish laugh. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Perlica decided to let the matter rest, this time. Though she did make a mental note to talk to a certain vampire once he had returned to the Dijiang.
The office settled into its familiar rhythm. Tea, reports, a few messages from Logistics, diagnostics from Engineering rolling in.
Fiona stopped by to drop off a stack of contracts requiring signatures, before disappearing just as quickly with a cheerful “Don’t overdo it this time!”
“I won’t.” He meant it.
… Mostly.
Every now and then, however, his eyes wandered toward the clock.
08:07.
Then back to the report.
08:11.
A deployment request.
08:29.
The first meeting on the bridge, then back into the office.
09:54.
He signed another document.
09:59.
This time, it was Perlica who pulled him out of his thoughts.
The usually composed and clearheaded woman looked rather… sheepish, as she entered his office. “Endmin, there seems to be a bit of a… situation.”
Situations on the Dijiang weren’t uncommon, by any means. Yet the way Perlica fidgeted with her tablet made him think that, perhaps, this was not quite the usual type of situations that had occurred every now and then.
“A… situation.”
“Yes…”
She seemed to think over her choice of words before speaking. “Operator Rossi seems to have taken a liking in the workings of Engineering, and asked for some… lessons.”
Ah. Rossi had been quite fond of being put to work, mentioning how she wanted to make the Endmin proud and pull her weight, just like everyone else always did, too.
“Did something explode?”
“No.”
“Anything on fire?”
“... No.”
“Did we lose power anywhere?”
“No power loss has been noted.”
“So…”
“Rossi and Tangtang somehow managed to flood one of the growth chambers.”
Ah.
Hold on a minute-
“They-”
The Endministrator sat back heavily in his chair, one hand on his forehead, as though he could rub away the headache slowly building, as he let out a long, long sigh.
“Alright, let’s see how exactly we came to own a pond on the Dijiang, then.”
By the time he made it back to his office with a fresh and dry pair of clothes on, it was already 10:49.
True to Perlica’s words, one of the growth chambers had turned into the equivalent of a pond. Thankfully, the affected room had stairs leading down into the chamber, so the water had been contained early enough. With the emergency unit stationed in the Dijiang, their purpose in such exact situations, it had been simple work to fix the issue.
Coincidentally enough, the accident had revealed a leakage that had gone by unnoticed prior, hence causing water to flood in places where it wasn’t supposed to go, at all. In the end, Rossi and Tangtang had managed to be helpful, albeit unconventional. He had made sure to let them both know, especially Rossi, who had been on the verge of crying before. The smile she gave afterwards was brighter than whenever he had brought her a new kite or a new flavour of candy from Wuling.
Setting down the equipment the Endmin had taken with him before, he made his way over to the eastern foyer, where the TP Anchor used by Endfield Operators was located.
Technicians moved efficiently between consoles, monitoring the stabilisation arrays surrounding the Originium anchored on its supports.
The crystal shone and reflected the light as it always did, the inside seemingly swallowing it, while the outside shimmered a faint amber.
One technician noticed him approaching. “Endministrator.”
“Morning.”
“Are you here for the incoming transfer?”
“... Something like that. Don’t let me disrupt your work.”
The technician nodded without another question, getting back to work swiftly and efficiently. It was something he appreciated.
Work on the Dijiang always went by smoothly and efficiently, like a well-oiled machine. Everyone did their tasks diligently and precisely. And most importantly, everyone seemed to be willing to work, eager to contribute and be of use. It takes a village, after all. And a spacecraft for something as big as Endfield to work.
A gentle vibration pulled him out of his thoughts. Synchronisation had begun.
A voice echoed across the room, announcing the entries and departures of the Dijiang.
“Connection established. Receiving teleport signature from Seš'qa.”
The Endministrator found himself holding his breath.
Ridiculous. Entirely ridiculous.
And yet… he couldn’t quite help it.
Out of shimmering particles, a figure emerged. Back straight, suit jacket without wrinkles, polearm secured in one gloved hand, the other gloveless one behind his back.
And at his waist- two keys. The older one, dull and shiny at once in places different. And the newer one, the Celtic knot glinting softly as it swung beside the first.
Camille paused only briefly while the technicians completed their routine confirmation. There had been a new test on power distribution happening aboard the Dijiang, and the teleporter, which had to remain accessible at all times, had been subject to testings.
The red in Camille’s eyes intensified briefly, as his gaze swept across the room, before it faded back into its usual mix of blue and red. They found the Endministrator almost immediately. Something softened in his expression, so slight that anyone else might have missed it. But the Endministrator had learned to read him.
“... Endmin.”
The greeting carried the same calm cadence it always did, yet there was something unmistakably warmer beneath it.
The Endmin stepped forward with a soft smile. “Welcome home.”
The words left his mouth before he had the opportunity to consider them, or make sense of what he was saying.
Both of them stilled.
Camille seemed… genuinely caught off guard, for once. His hand, the ungloved one, drifted unconsciously toward the new key at his belt. A thumb rubbing over the formation of a knot once, before they curled around it. “... Home.”, he repeated the word quietly, as though testing how it sounded, how it felt on his lips.
Then, his gaze returned to the Endministrator. “... Yes.” A small pause. “I have returned home.”
The Endministrator felt warmth bloom across his face, pointedly ignoring the other people present in the chamber. “... I suppose you have.”
Camille just inclined his head, though there was a faint smile on his lips now. “As promised. I said I would return, and so I did.”
For reasons he did not want to decipher - not quite yet - the Endministrator laughed. It wasn’t a loud sound, but soft. Because hearing those words in person felt inexplicably reassuring. “I never doubted you.”
“I know.” Camille took another step closer. Close enough, now, that less than an arms length remained between them. “Your messages were… appreciated.”
“Yours were too.”
Another beat of silence. Comfortable and familiar, until Camille spoke again.
“You seem relieved.”
The Endministrator opened his mouth to deny it, out of habit, more than honesty, yet stopped himself before he could. He simply smiled. “... I am.”
Camille lowered his gaze briefly. “I apologise for causing concern.”
“Your duties come first, Camille. You let me know as soon as you could, there is nothing to apologise for.”
“It nevertheless exceeded the estimated duration.”
The Endministrator simply shook his head softly. “I wasn’t keeping score, don’t worry.” The way he kept glancing at the clock was between himself and the silence in his office, after all.
And yet, when had he ever been able to hide anything from Camille? “You were waiting.”
The observation landed with uncomfortable accuracy.
“... Maybe a little.”
Camille regarded him for several seconds. Around them, the technicians quietly took their leave, the foyer empty once more, aside from the two men.
Camille’s brow furrowed, just slightly.
Then-
He raised his bare hand.
The motion was slow, measured, acted out with the same deliberate care with which Camille approached everything that mattered.
His hand stopped midway between them.
“... May I?”
The Endministrator looked from the outstretched hand to Camille’s face, genuine curiosity in his eyes, head slightly tilted. “Asking first, now?”, he asked with a small smile.
Camille inclined his head at that. “I learned that people appreciate it, rather than be surprised.”
“... They do.”
Another heartbeat passed.
The Endministrator nodded. “You may.”
Only then did Camille close the remaining distance.
His ungloved hand came to rest against the Endministrator’s cheek. Cool, not unpleasantly so, simply… not as warm as a normal person’s skin would be. The temperature contrasted gently with the warmth pooling in the Endmin’s face, and the raven-haired man found himself instinctively relaxing into it.
His shoulders loosened, the tension he hadn’t realised he was carrying seemed to melt away beneath the soft touch.
Camille observed him quietly.
His thumb shifted ever so slightly, not quite a caress, merely a minute adjustment as though confirming his assessment of the Endministrator.
The Endministrator leans into it - only slightly, just enough that Camille notices.
Both freeze.
The Endministrator is the first to act upon what had just transpired, his ears coloring immediately. “Ah…”
Camille’s expression softens almost imperceptibly. Albeit hesitantly, he pulls away.
“I shall remember that the Endministrator seems fond of physical contact.”
“Please don’t.”
The smile Camille gave him was answer enough that the Keeper would definitely not let him live this down.
And it wasn’t like the Endministrator was particularly fond of physical contact. He didn’t mind it, by no means was he bothered by it either. He often gave a tap on someone’s shoulder, a hug when he could see someone desperately needed one, or a hand when it was appropriate.
But he had never really gone out of his way to… seek it. Not quite.
Yet, the way Camille’s touch had been soft as a feather, cradling his cheek as if he was afraid the Endministrator would shatter like glass, stirred something inside him he had not known existed before.
Had he been fond of physical touches, before, when he still held his memories? Did he engage in hugs and gentle touches with anyone before? Did he-
Perhaps, a question for another day, just how far his… intimacy had gone, before his recent hibernation.
“I missed speaking with you.”
Camille’s words came, essentially, out of nowhere. It was an open honesty he had not expected, not quite. At least, not in a way so direct. There was no embarrassment, in the way he spoke those words out loud, no attempt to soften the admission. It was simply the truth, simply… Camille.
“I found myself composing observations during my stay in Seš'qa.”
The Endministrator looked at him curiously, mind barely catching up with everything that seemed to be happening within the last few minutes. “Observations?”
“I wished to tell you about them.”
“What kind?”
“The Head of Command commissioned a new observation platform overlooking the eastern districts. The view resembles Talos-II shortly before sunrise. I thought…” Camille hesitated, for the first time in god-knows how long, the man seemed… almost shy. “... that you would appreciate seeing it.”
Ah…
Camille had seen something in the city he had once called his home, and his thought had been that the Endmin would, perhaps, like appreciate seeing it, too.
The raven-haired man smiled, so fondly and soft. “I think I would like that.”
“I also found a new variety of the Devil’s Licorice sweets you used to give me when I first joined the Dijiang. It… reminded me of a conversation we once had. The flavor remains unusual. I had considered bringing you some, but…”
“... But?”
“I recalled your reaction to the last witchcraft confection and ultimately decided against it.”
The Endministrator laughed at that. “It was certainly memorable.”
“You described it as tasting ‘academically interesting’.”
“I still stand by that.”
“It was an exceptionally polite way of saying you disliked it.”
“I never said that!”
Camille’s lips curved upward. “You did not. But your expression spoke for you.”
The Endministrator stared. “Did you just… tease me?”
“I believe so.”
“You…” Color returned to his cheeks and ears all in one, pink, almost like the Licorice he disliked. “You’ve been spending too much time around Chen.”
“I merely observed that humor occasionally relies upon understatement.”
“.. That’s exactly something Chen would say.”
“I shall ask her whether she agrees, then.”
“Please don’t-”
“I was joking.”
Endmin stared. Teasing and joking in one conversation. “... Are you sure you went to Seš'qa?”
“Do you not believe me?”
“I do, just-”
Camille’s hand, resting between them, lifted again. The Endministrator’s words fell from his lips, as he watched the movement, holding his breath in.
Only then did Camille seem to realise that he was about to touch the Endministrator once more, as if it had been without consciousness, like it seemed… natural, in a way. His eyes widened by the smallest degree.
“... My apologies.”
He began to withdraw.
Without thinking- the Endministrator’s own hand lifted. His fingers closed gently around Camille’s wrist, enough to delay the movement.
Both of them froze.
And somehow, the Endministrator looked just as surprised as Camille.
“I…-”
He hadn’t meant to do that. Or perhaps… he had. He wasn’t entirely certain anymore.
Camille remained perfectly still, waiting, patient. The Endministrator slowly loosened his grip.
Clearing his throat once, the raven-haired man spoke first. “... It’s alright, you don’t have to apologise.”
The vampire searched his face for several long seconds. “... You did not dislike it?”
As though his reaction hadn’t been clear enough already. Yet, it was entirely in Camille’s nature to seek verbal confirmation and consent, no matter how small the circumstances for them were.
He shook his head. “No… quite the opposite.”, he had admitted, with quiet words and color in his cheeks.
Camille looked… thoughtful. “I see.”
His hand settled once more against the Endministrator’s cheek. Only for a heartbeat, a silent confirmation, as he tested the words to be true. Then, he withdrew it completely. “I am… pleased.” The words were almost inaudible, whispered almost reverently into the space between them. Yet, somehow, they carried more weight than most of their conversations usually did. Like an admission, a confession.
Around them, the teleportation anchor continued its steady hum, mixing with the usual low cacophony of the Dijiang. Neither Camille nor the Endministrator noticed Perlica standing at the far end of the corridor leading into the room.
She had arrived only moments earlier, datapad tucked beneath one arm, intending to inform the Endministrator that Fiona had been searching for him.
Instead, she found herself quietly watching the two men. She had observed many moments between them, so far. This one… felt different. Not because they had touched. That, surprisingly, was becoming less unusual. It was the ease with which they now occupied each other’s spaces. Neither appeared conscious of it anymore, not as hesitant nor shy about it either. It was simply like… they belonged there. Into each other's spaces.
Perlica smiled to herself. Then, deciding that interrupting could wait another minute or two, she quite turned around and walked back the way she had come.
The two men lingered only a moment longer. It was the Endministrator who finally broke the silence. “... Let’s go back to the office?”
Camille looked at him silently.
“I imagine you’ve been travelling since before dawn, am I right?”
“... I have.”
“You should at least put your things down.”
Camille inclined his head once, eyes glancing at his polearm, as though he had just remembered that he had taken it with him. He was perfectly capable of using his Arts, and by extension, his blood as a weapon. Yet… the Endministrator had bestowed it upon him, when he officially became a part of Endfield. Rarely, if ever, did he leave without it since.
“As you wish.”
They fell into step beside one another without conversation, this time. Just a comfortable silence.
The walk back to the office through the winding corridors of the Dijiang was uneventful. Or, perhaps, as uneventful as it could be when one of Endfield’s operators returned after several days away.
Greetings followed Camille from every direction.
“Morning, Operator Camille, Endmin.”
“Welcome back!”
“Did Seš'qa finally let you go?”
He answered each with the same composed courtesy, voice steady.
“Good morning.
“Thank you.”
“They did.”
Nothing more, nothing less. The Endministrator, however, noticed something. Camille no longer shifted his weight when stopped in conversation. He no longer looked as though he were calculating the quickest route out of the room. He actually… paused.
Listened.
Offered brief replies.
They were tiny changes, almost imperceptible, yet the Endministrator remembered the HR report he’d once read.
“When he wishes to avoid contact, he shifts the center of balance to his right leg to expedite immediate flight.”
That habit had become increasingly rare aboard the Dijiang. Perhaps it was time to adjust the records in the Database.
“... Something amusing?” Camille’s voice drew the other man from his thoughts.
“Hm?”
“You smiled.”, the Sarkaz pointed out.
“I did?”
“You did.”
The Endministrator chuckled. Before, perhaps, he would’ve felt sheepish about smiling like this from such silly thoughts, yet.. He did not mind. “I was just thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
The Endministrator stopped dead in his steps. “... Camille.”
“Yes?”, the Sarkaz turned around to him, puzzled.
“... Did you just make a joke?”
“I attempted one.”
For the second time in the span of less than an hour, Camille had made a joke. “... It worked.”
“I am relieved.” And looked entirely too smug about it.
“I think Chen is rubbing off on you.”
“I still maintain that she has not.” A pause. “... Perhaps.”
The Endministrator laughed at that, shaking his head fondly. “Progress, then.”
When they reached the office, the doors slid open with its familiar whisper, after the Endmin unlocked it.
Camille stopped just inside, his eyes sweeping across the room.
The desk.
The projector.
The soft lounge.
The unfinished witchcraft puzzle still waited exactly where he had left it.
The folded red blanket remained draped neatly over one armrest.
Two teacups sat by the kettle.
Nothing had changed. His shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit.
“... Welcome back.”, the Endministrator said quietly.
Camille looked towards him, then. “I believe you already welcomed me.”
“I did, but… this one is different.” He glanced around the office at his own words. “I meant… welcome back here.”
The Sarkaz remained silent for several moments, taking in the words. “... I am home.”
The smile the words brought to two individual faces was soft, fond and private between them.
Camille crossed the room, once the Endministrator moved towards his own desk. The polearm was carefully set against the wall near the lounge, where it always rested. The motion was so practiced, it was obvious he no longer thought about it consciously. Next, his glove was taken off, placed neatly atop the low table where books were waiting for him already.
From behind himself, he unclasped a small satchel. The Endmin’s gaze flickered to it, as Camille placed it next to his glove. The curiosity was immediate.
“What’s that?”
Camille looked down at it. “I still wished to bring you something.” He picked up the pouch, making his way over to the Endmin’s desk, and held it out.
The Endministrator accepted it carefully. Inside the small pouch laid several oddly shaped pieces carved from polished black stone, the inside of the bag oddly spacious, contradicting the look it held from the outside. Interwoven silver lines traced intricate geometric patterns across each surface. “.. A puzzle?”
“A witchcraft puzzle.” Camille nodded. “The image depicts Seš'qa viewed from above during dusk.” Then, he hesitated briefly. “... I selected it myself.”
The Endmin looked up at that. “You remembered?”
“I said I would.”
There was that same quiet sincerity again, honest and without embarrassment. It had been perhaps weeks, since the Endmin had expressed curiosity over a witchcraft puzzle before. Camille had mentioned bringing him one, then, the next time he had to go to Seš'qa.
The Endministrator turned one of the puzzle pieces he plucked from the satchel between his fingers, glancing it over. “... Thank you.”
Camille watched him with quiet satisfaction. “I take it… this present is acceptable?”
The Endministrator looked back down at the carved pieces. Then at Camille. “... It’s perfect.”
Something softened in the Sarkaz’s expression, almost too subtle to notice, yet visible to the man who had spent the majority of his days studying those tiny changes.
“... I am pleased.”
The Endministrator carefully placed the pouch beside the empty teacup on his desk.
“I suppose we’ll have to finish this one soon, then.”
“We shall.” Camill glance toward the lounge, for a moment, before continuing. “I may require your assistance.”
“Oh?”
“The image contains approximately six thousand individual rooftops.”
The Endmin blinked. “... You chose the most difficult one, didn’t you?”
“I selected the most beautiful one.”
A narrowed look followed. “... That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
Then, a furrowed eyebrow. “No, that’s dodging the question.”
Camille tilted his head ever so slightly. “... I may have chosen the most difficult one.”
“... I knew it.”
The Endministrator briefly wondered if they had called upon the Keeper to give him lessons in teasing, joking and when to act smug, for the self-satisfied tilt of his lips seemed infuriatingly handsome, right then and there.