NaNoWriMo - Where We Fall, part 1 of 14

[emeraldembers]

Where We Fall
By emerald_embers
Legacy of Kain: Vorador/Janos and other pairings
Rated NC17 for yaoi, het references, violence and bad language
Dedications: andremeese who has been my constant inspiration; remy_ice_angel for never letting this idea die; Gez and Jane, without whom I would never have found fandom (in particular this one :D).



Janos missed Uschtenheim.

How long had this particular visit to the Citadel lasted now? Months? Maybe a year? He had spent enough time in the Citadel for his accent to weaken, taking on the neutral tones of middle Nosgoth, and still the war stretched on, showing no signs of shifting balance. They had underestimated the Hylden, and the Hylden continued to underestimate them; both sides seemed evenly matched.

No one seemed to know who had started the war. It had become a way of life, going on long enough that no generation still alive in Nosgoth had seen a world without the war. And in turn the land itself seemed to suffer with the war, had become near uninhabitable in many areas; victory was a necessity not just for their race but for all living things, it seemed. As such, Janos was content to devote his existence to his two areas of strength; battle, and research.

Their ancestors had not written their histories, they had passed them on in speech and in murals, landmarks scattered throughout the land; go back far enough in Nosgoth's history and their ancestors had led a fascinating existence, worshipping elements more than the Wheel - indeed, the further back one went the less worship of the Wheel could be found - and devoting themselves to prophets and seers. They had predicted the war, predicted many a battle within it, but the outcome was ever uncertain. The easily accessible murals were often distorted or damaged, and few stories had been passed down by word of mouth without acquiring embellishments on the way.

The only consistencies in the prophesies were, ironically, those that had not come to pass; a saviour would come, who would wield the sword that would save them from the Hylden. Janos had devoted the half of his life not spent in battle to researching the prophesies through what scraps could be found and visiting the sites he could - had never ceased to be amazed when in the crafting of an aerie for himself he had found one hidden within the very mountains of Uschtenheim. History lay there for the uncovering all over Nosgoth, though his accidental discovery within his own home seemed unfortunately short on anything other than old, old magic that he could not hope to understand despite a firm grasp of his race's modern techniques. More murals would have been a delight.

His research had certainly helped with the development of some modern magic. Teleportation had yet to be perfected but his own teacher, Aluniel, had always been talented with the manipulation of dimensions and had done more to further the study of movement through time and space than anyone else of her generation. He seemed to have a mild alignment with states, though there were others far more skilled in that area than he; still, the combination of that alignment with his study of their ancestors' elemental magic enabled him to help perfect the crafting of fireballs and tornadoes, giving shape and direction to elements. He'd done some good work in his time at the Citadel, and while he'd yet to massively influence the outcome of any battle, his tactical skills had led him to be promoted above the basic fighting class. It wasn't a bad life given involvement in the war was inevitable regardless of where in Nosgoth one resided, be you vampire, hylden or human.

Still, he missed Uschtenheim. Waking up in warmth was alien to him; his skin was resilient to cold and missed the chill of a bright, icy morning. He longed for the purity of the snow, the crisp air, the clean feeling of living in the mountains.

At least it was something he could return to, more than could be said for his longing to see his wife's face again. The intensity of that desire had largely faded with time, but still, losing her through a complicated birth and his child to sickness barely after had left him painfully lonely at too young an age to truly cope with the loss. They had to have been perfect souls, for the Wheel to want them back so soon.



Dressing for the morning's meeting, Janos couldn't help wondering how his own subordinates were doing. He'd sent three east to sites pointed out in an old piece of folklore; knew the fourth site mentioned full well due to it being the one attached to his aerie, knew nothing could be gained from it through further study without risking damage to the magic bound to the place, but the other sites were alleged to be larger and thus, he hoped, were likelier to have murals. He only wanted brief reports; Jayne said he'd found but not been able to find a way into the closest site, had only been able to give a description of the seal indicating the site's purpose. Elena had similar news from the south-easterly site. All three discoveries showed little more than their clear intention to guide their saviour on his journey with the Reaver.

Adjusting his trousers to sit more comfortably beneath his greaves, smooth ceremonial ones as opposed to the rune-laden creations he wore to battle, Janos' concern returned to Kylian and the fact he hadn't returned. Nor had he sent word; the obvious thought was that he'd had the misfortune to run into a hylden, maybe several on the way, but attacks that far north were rare - technically Kylian ought to have been the safest. If Elena hadn't returned he would have immediately come to the conclusion of a Hylden attack being the cause; he'd have to go talk to Shia at some point, ask her if she could sense his whereabouts.

But battle duties took priority over research, and as such, he'd have to do his duty and attend the meeting even though neither his word nor his hearing would truly be required for it. Only Generals and elders had their voices listened to in such discussions and Janos was neither.



There was something almost darkly comical about the distance kept between both races as the members gathered sat down for the meeting. The scheduling was little better, barely an hour set aside when arguments were known to draw out for the major part of the day over the simplest of matters; still, given the amount of preparation that normally preceded such events, the organiser must have been especially confident.

The insult-slinging had already begun when Janos entered the council's chamber; largely from the Hylden side, though Sianne Lemm was using a few choice words herself, much to her fellow General's embarrassment. Blasphemous as ever, the Hylden still seemed overly proud of their finding a source of extended life despite it going against God's will, while the vampire elders were content to cut those extended lives short.

Silence finally fell as a deceptively young looking woman entered the room. Shia held the unfortunate position of being leader at these meetings, distrusted by vampires for her age and by Hylden for her neutrality despite clearly being of their blood, but was considered a necessity as she was one of the few born with farsight who had not gone mad or suicidal. It was a heavy responsibility to bear but she had found someone who could understand the depths personal responsibility could reach in her vampire husband, Samael, a renowned necromancer. She rarely interfered with the proceedings, and never explained her reasons when she did, but all had long learnt to heed her words when they were spoken.

The reason for the meeting became clear quickly enough after the room had settled down; the Hylden had not shared their opinions with regards to how prisoners of their own race should be treated. Given that the camps already set up were becoming not only cramped but a drain on resources, the vampire elders had pondered the sending home of captured women and children provided they had not been exposed to any sensitive information.

Unsurprisingly, the Hylden were decidedly unmoved by the whole idea, stating simply that it was the vampire's problem, not theirs; they didn't "make the mistake" of taking prisoners.

Looking to Shia for acceptance of the proposal, the elders whispered among themselves briefly before announcing through Sianne, "Then neither shall we."

Without batting an eyelid Shia nodded, confirmation that this change to protocol would not do undue harm to any timeline she could see, getting up and leaving shortly after making her announcement. Of course, the Hylden were furious - even though they had known the meeting was supposedly going to be short, this seemed a mockery of their time - but as far as the vampire council were concerned this war was a moral war and there would be no true victory unless it was claimed without breaking the rules.

Admittedly, as Janos well knew, rules applied little on the battlefield, especially whenever there was a weapons lay-down for meetings such as this. The Hylden had taken to sending out small groups and leading surprise attacks in these supposed peacetimes, and regardless of what the elders were told, Generals and all those beneath them knew full well that their men and women had taken to retaliating in kind.



After all due ceremony was over with and discarded, Janos headed towards Shia's room, biding his time as those involved with the new change in protocol took their turns visiting her to confirm the details. Their impatience in the queue grated on his nerves - despite her abilities she was but one person with two ears, and while she had the talent of being able to conduct more than one conversation at a time she had perfectly natural limits.

Realising that he might have more success in his audience with her if he brought some form of gift, Janos mused on what would be best; it could be difficult to ascertain what sort of present would be less formal than an official gift without intruding on Samael's territory. Figuring the best option was to appeal to her practicality, he recalled the stew he'd left simmering during the meeting; she had a family of three to feed, he had the habit of preparing far too much food despite having been without a wife for several years now - and even back then he'd often been overgenerous in his portion measurements. Besides, he was looking for someone lost in the present, and Shia had mentioned in the past how it was easier to search for someone if an item that had belonged to them was at hand; reason plenty to retire to his room and come back later.



Seeming amused at the sight of him stood with a stew pot held in robe-covered hands as protection against the heat, Shia laughed before letting him in, her eyes betraying her weariness from the unnecessary bustle of the post-meeting discussions. Eyeing her dinner table eagerly given that a little too much heat had started seeping through the robes, Janos set the pot down hastily before shaking his hands as if to will the heat to fall off his skin before turning back to her and smiling. "My apologies for the abrupt entrance."

"No apology needed - I feel I should be apologising to you for that useless meeting, protocol be damned."

He waved her comment aside before sitting down and admiring the room; simple decoration - it had to be, with Samael's blindness and the fact it had seen a baby grow into a woman - but effective. Strange to think of little Shianna as a grown woman, despite the fact he knew full well she was only two years younger than him. "You're too polite, all things considered another visitor was likely the last thing you desired."

Sitting down beside him, the chair design accommodating her particular variety of wings with less ease than it accommodated his, Shia insisted, "Were it not for the misfortune you attract I would welcome your visits, Janos."

He never understood the notion most of his kind seemed to have that Shia and her daughter were less than cordial to those who sought her advice; she'd never been anything but pleasant to him, and for all the quirks that came with being a necromancer, her husband Samael was a good man. "I won't keep you long."

"I thought not," She replied. "You're worried. Not for yourself..."

Janos nodded and handed over Kylian's robe, bowed his head slightly in apology. "He should have been back several days ago. I only need know if he is dead."

Shia closed her eyes and frowned, wincing at first, raising the robe to smell it and to still the nosebleed that came. "He... air. Bottom of a shaft. Cold. Bright. Churning sky." She shivered, eyes opening again as she returned to a fully conscious state. "Old, old stone. He's alive."

Janos breathed out in relief, thankful that at least he knew there was hope for Kylian provided he found the site quickly enough himself. Shia smiled again, seeming far more beautiful than any hylden ought to be capable of looking. There was a softness to her face that negated the reptilian look of most of her kind, softness that had only been enhanced by age, and her daughter had inherited most of that beauty. "I'm sorry if looking hurt you."

"It always hurts," Shia reminded him before folding her arms and looking towards the door. "But thank you for the apology. Most people assume I'm used to the pain by now and use that as an excuse for their rudeness. Will you be staying for dinner?"

"I had intended it for you and yours -"

"Shianna is away," Shia explained. "Flight practise. I'll make something for her when she returns. And seeing as Samael is due back soon, you two may as well catch up."



Aside from receiving a scolding due to his and Samael's getting into a deep discussion about the finer elemental tuning of teleportation, the meal was decidedly pleasant and, as he had guessed, there had been plenty of stew to go around. Having a full stomach made the task of planning what he would need for the journey to find Kylian much easier, thinking in a relaxed rather than stressed atmosphere more conducive to picturing possible difficulties he might face. Food and water - both for himself and Kylian - weaponry and something to sleep on when the need for rest came... rope, too, should any physical strain Kylian had suffered rendered the boy initially mindless.

The very fact a meeting had been called meant that the war, skirmishes aside, would essentially be slowed down for a few days to come so winning the approval of his superiors to excuse himself from battle during his venture was simple enough. The priests, too, were quick to give a blessing over his journey - Kylian was not advanced enough in study to be particularly well known, but his father had been a well recognised man and near everyone sympathised with worrying about a missing youth.

Despite the fact he knew there was some urgency to the journey, it was somewhat difficult to resist making plans to pass by Uschtenheim; flying straight from the site he'd sent Kylian to, judging by the maps, ought to take scarcely a day's travel. Still, he knew giving in to the craving to see the area he thought of as home despite his long absence from it would make his homesickness even worse when it returned; and besides, indulging a fanciful whim when Kylian's life was likely endangered was unspeakably selfish.



After packing as lightly as he could without losing any necessities from the bag slung around his hips for the sake of making long-term flying easier, it was time for orientation and from there, taking off. It would be some time before he was far enough in the north to be as safe from Hylden attacks as one could be in Nosgoth, but travelling light and solo gave him a better chance of returning home safely than taking one or two friends with him to act as look-outs.

More importantly, there was the issue of finding somewhere to make camp; those who were free to come with him were mostly unused to camping and would have found the experience unpleasant. It was hassle enough to find somewhere reasonably secure to make and disguise a tent without listening to others complaining about the cold or the rain or whatever aspect of the weather caught their attention the most.

He'd passed the area in brief once or twice - had seen most of Nosgoth in his day, though Avernus and Merididan had been lost years before his birth - but still, there was a difference between briefly glimpsing a site classed as sacred by his people and standing right before it. There was something awe-inducing about the site up close, not just in viewing but in all senses; the place reeked of magic, and Janos found himself wary because there was old, old warding magic in place, some of which felt all too much like it had been set up to attack indiscriminately. Most of it felt guided, but some -

Janos leapt back as what he'd thought to be a merely decorative eye set into the wall blasted the area in which he had stood with light magic, breathed out in relief. Too close; but he'd dealt with watcher magic before, given it was a simple enough task to blind their eyes with a dark missile. In battle, dark missiles were almost invariably useless given the enemy could just move out of the dark cloud resulting from a landed shot, but a stationary target could be taken care of easily.

Nerves on edge at the thought of a second eye seeing him before he saw it nearly kept him from moving forth into the building, and froze him altogether when an impossible being leapt out of the very floor, sword and shield drenched with magic in hand. Instinct made him reach for his pike but the ragged creature stopped mid-run, as if it had suddenly realised no magic should keep its bones and ribbons of flesh together, and bowed to Janos before collapsing. Fighting the survival instinct that wanted him to turn around and leave rather than press on, Janos took the shield as an alternative to that which he had left at home and continued his exploration.

The shield proved itself useful in a different way than what he would have expected, unlocking doors until he at last faced a great statue, its length held within a great shaft, and Shia's vision came back to mind; the churning sky above, either artificial or otherworldly, seemed to confirm that he'd reached the right place.

"Kylian?"

He couldn't be certain, the damned wind whistling in his ears, but he could have sworn a small gasp could be heard from the shaft, and that was enough for him. Summoning magic towards him, something that seemed eerily easy in this place, Janos folded his arms and willed his own teleportation to the base of the shaft. He hadn't been able to see Kylian on looking down but there were tunnels leading off from the shaft in all directions and perhaps his student could be found there.

Sure enough, when he reopened his eyes, he turned barely a few inches to his right before finding Kylian's half-starved body curled up just inside the green-lit tunnel. "Kylian, are you alright?"

Kylian said nothing, only staring, but staring and breathing was good and God only knew how long the boy had been down here; if he was shocked, Janos couldn't blame him. It was hard to guess without being told how Kylian had ended up here but that said the shaft seemed too narrow with too little lift in the air for flight, and his wings looked wrong. Perhaps he'd fallen and rolled just a little into the tunnel?

Again, Janos found himself thankful for his own command of magic. Had the boy known teleportation it would have been arduous but at least possible to eventually teleport himself out of the building. No guarantee that the first creature to come across him in the outside world would be a friendly one, but Janos suspected that had the boy been left to starve completely, the option to teleport outside and take the risk of attracting enemy attention before friendly would have been a welcome one. He'd have to suggest the teaching of teleportation at an earlier stage, regardless of it being a far more difficult skill to master than basic elemental summoning.

Thank God, at least, that the strange creatures that occupied the building seemed to have been as uninterested in hurting Kylian despite their weaponry as they had been in hurting him; given time Janos would have loved to return and study the place further but getting his student to safety was the obvious priority. Gathering magic to himself again, Janos lifted Kylian into his arms and held him close, felt the shift of wings that were definitely hanging wrong as he stood and summoned the both of them back to the top of the shaft. Being half-starved did at least reduce the weight of his student but it was still an effort to lead him out of the site, especially given the damned eyes still required blinding as they were passed.



Flight was an easier task, the journey home seeming brief in comparison to the journey there, his wings and the favourable wind supporting them both relatively comfortably as he flew. Easier still was landing after nearly a day and a half of scarcely interrupted flight and seeing the relief on people's faces when they saw it was not a corpse he carried, just a terribly scared, terribly sore young man.

Happy endings seemed rare these days, and it was a relief to have one, however imperfect Kylian's mutism rendered it.



He had thanked Shia once before for her searching out Kylian but given her looking had allowed Janos to bring him back alive, there was no reason not to thank her a second time. It was strangely amusing to see her faint surprise at the good news; proof if ever it existed that she was not omniscient, if a little saddening that she had expected the worst. Still, yet again Kylian's return had been an unexpected and much needed source of happiness for those who heard about it whether they knew the young man or not.

Nonetheless, Janos had requested time off for his journey to bring about Kylian's return, and time away from one's normal work could only ever be paid back in one way if one were physically fit enough; for the days he had spent away, he would have to spend a similar effort at the front line.

Janos might be a researcher at heart, but he was a good fighter regardless of his preferred occupation. He had no real enjoyment of battle, did not have an addiction to the adrenaline rush as so many others did and his technique was fairly basic, but tidy; always executed swiftly and neatly, efficient as possible. He'd survived enough skirmishes to keep calm after the initial wait, found the moments before battle worse than the battles themselves in terms of their toll on his nervous system; where others spoke of the calm before a storm, he was more familiar with the eye of it. The thick of battle let him still his thoughts to focus on pike and shield, keeping himself airborne while guarding his wings against Hylden attack. He'd seen the results of panic in battle, and where a desperate man could be dangerous, a panicking man was a danger to himself more than anyone else.



Stahlberg had been a hotbed for skirmish after skirmish for weeks, months on end. Too close to Avernus and Willendorf to reclaim at length for any period, the elders still seemed focused on ensuring it was not used as a point for the Hylden to expand their domain into Northern territories. Janos was near the point of losing count of how many battles there he had participated in; almost wondered if there were Hylden attending those battles who knew his face as well as distant relatives given there was something almost periodical about the fights.

An ice missile barely clipped his wing, taking a scarce few feathers with it but enough to knock his balance off for a moment. Strange irony was that it meant more suffering for the Hylden he had aimed at; now, rather than being able to deliver an instantly fatal blow to his opponent by driving the pike through his neck the attack was rendered clumsy, gashing chest wide open. A nearby ally did the decent thing by slashing at the hylden's throat before the injury left him plummeting to earth, but still, Janos hated an inhumane kill, believed the aim of battle was to obtain as swift a victory as possible, not to cause suffering regardless of what rumour said the Hylden did with fallen vampires after victories for their side.

Janos trusted in his training and, so far, had been proven right in his trust. Rule out emotion in a fight and while you might lose a little ferocity, what you gained in skill made up for that failing.

The next kill was swifter, Janos' pike slicing through his opponent's throat with almost satisfying swiftness. Air battles were the easiest to participate in but, at the same time, were harder to remain motivated throughout. Skill rarely played a part in air battles; they seemed to be won almost solely by numbers and luck.

"Do you hate this damned place as much as I do?" Yelled Elena, her hair near comical given how much had escaped the braid she'd forced it into before the battle. Anyone fit for battle with curly hair really ought to give in and cut it short, at least at front; nothing short of being weighted down by rain would stop it escaping to freedom at the most inconvenient of times. "Fine, don't ans -" She cut herself off before he could, twisting to avoid enemy claws before using her own to counterattack.

"There's a time for conversation," He yelled back, wondering if he should head away before she could say anything else then deciding against moving given he seemed to have found himself in a relatively sane part of the battlefield. The Hylden had been pushed back enough that those who lingered were fighting like hellcats, knowing they were on the verge of defeat but refusing to accept it. Even though he hated the losses they brought, Janos almost felt a sneaking admiration for those who stood and fought to the end; unlike those who fled, those who stood to the end believed in what they were fighting for, rather than in fighting for their survival. Given the Hylden's role in the world was a secular one it was unusual when they did stand up for more than whatever served them best in life; those who were truly fighting to not believe in God and the Wheel were almost following a faith of their own in their savagery.



Again there was no need for Janos to be present as the details of the battle were relayed, but all those above basic ranks were expected to attend as the main leader conveyed information to the General they were assigned to.

"Stahlberg is retaken," Gemma stated, holding out the papers that had been drawn up. "Fatalities, injuries and prisoners -"

"You know we do not take prisoners anymore," Sianne replied, an edge of pity sliding in alongside the disapproval in her voice. "I had hoped that message was clear. Still, I can't say we did not expect initial mistakes." Sianne looked over at the chain of bound Hylden, whistled low in her throat. "The problem will be dealt with."

In all fairness, the preparations for dealing with new Hylden prisoners were swift - bordered on humane in so far as they could ever be humane - but the truth of what the preparations meant could not be denied. The Hylden had refused to take back any of their prisoners and vampire resources were pressed enough without feeding additional soldiers brought to the already established camps; the choice was between leaving them to starve or taking care of them another way.

Still, Hylden or no, there was something wrong in watching a bound man who looked scarcely an adult being led to the guillotine, blindfolded, and executed by a vampire showing less emotion than a farmer forced to put down livestock.



Dinner was a purely perfunctory experience, the urge to eat almost wholly absent, but even as Janos' muscles ached with fatigue his mind raced with thoughts of what he'd seen and he had no choice but to find out what God had to say about the executions - the logic behind the options was something he grasped fully, but morally the choice the elders had made felt wrong. Normally he could see God's reasoning without asking or trusted God's wisdom without question, but this once he needed help in understanding just how anyone, no matter how divine, thought all this reasonable.

"Ah, Janos. It isn't often we see you outside Mass," greeted the priest on duty outside the temple, his face familiar but not quite so familiar as to warrant first name terms. There was something almost embarrassing about the idea of being so well known by the clergy that they knew him by name; though it was entirely possible that the young man had some telepathic ability. Either way, it wasn't entirely Janos' place to ask how his name was known; it just felt slightly uncomfortable and strange.

That, or the unpleasant sight he had beheld earlier that day had left him shaken in such a way that it was having an effect on more than his appetite. "I wondered if you could ask God why he is permitting the Hylden to be executed? I see no divine purpose in -"

"Are you certain you wish to ask such a direct question?" Asked the priest, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Questioning God is generally frowned upon."

"I am aware of that," Janos acknowledged, feeling a little guilty at putting the priest through asking a question that Janos would be asking himself were he trained as a warrior-priest and thus permitted access to the temple on ordinary occasions. "I saw the executions earlier and I can not understand why God would permit such a thing. Tell him who the question came from it provokes his wrath; I would not see you hurt."

Still looking uncomfortable the priest nodded, paused for a moment seemingly in thought before heading inside the temple.

Janos did not like questioning his faith. In all honesty, he had never openly expressed any question in his adult life; as a child he had been as curious as any, pestering his parents for answers to "Why do bad things happen?", "Why does God let good people get hurt?", so on and so forth; but as an adult his faith had matured to a comfortable place and almost any question that came to mind was one he could answer himself. Still, while God and death had always been inseparable in his faith, God and bloody execution seemed wrong as a combination.

The priest looked a little harassed on his return but not quite resentful, launched straight into the answer Janos had desired; "God was displeased with your question, but his explanation was simple; the advancement of their souls to the Wheel is a blessing, given their own kind did not want them back."

As he had expected. He still felt uncomfortable, but at least there was something solid in his reasoning now that he had God's answer for certain. Thanking the priest, Janos headed to his room, stripping out of armour in need of a polish and bloodied robes before sliding under his bed sheets, not bothering with a change into night clothes. His nerves were still unsettled but battle had tired his muscles regardless, fatigue taking over swiftly as he rested his head on the pillow and carrying him into dreams.



Blood



Janos sat up sharply and pulled the sheets down off his back, wondering how much of the sweat was natural from being in so much warmer an environment than his body was used to, and how much had been induced by the nightmare.

He couldn't remember details, all of them swimming away as soon as he reached for them in his thoughts, but did remember the blood. Red, liquid, and pain.



He knew full well what had caused the dreams but had no control over the matter; he'd already questioned God over it - actually questioned, as if he'd had a crisis of faith - and the reasoning behind what had disturbed him was logical enough even if his soul still felt unsettled.

Dressing was uncomfortable, his nerves jarred and his skin still somewhat clammy from the dreaming. Moreover, the disturbance of his sleep left his mind feeling ill at ease; almost heavy, as if still weighed down with the previous days thoughts.

He could press on, though. No battles, only training younger recruits in simple teleportation had been scheduled for the day, and there were worse things to wake up to than the general ache of sleeplessness.



Teaching teleportation was always a peculiar business because it relied more on the students understanding themselves than any guidance a teacher could offer; a teacher could help with guiding later stages but the first teleport, the first movement from one place to another, was solely the charge of the pupil.

Poor Jayne was an excellent researcher but after nearly a year had yet to teleport for the first time. It was a frustration because there was no way to describe how the actual teleportation process worked - guiding movements could be taught but willing oneself to move from one place to another was a skill that had to be practised. Some people got it right on the first try; others, like Jayne, were left wondering what was wrong with them.

"There must be a reason I can't do this," Jayne sighed after watching another new entrant to the classes master initial teleportation movements within a matter of minutes. "Perhaps I'm just not geared towards magic."

"Everyone has some magical ability," Janos explained gently as possible, "Some just struggle with teleportation because it isn't as elementally focused as others. Instead of thinking about the magic, think about where you want to be; relocation is more important than anything else when starting this."

Jayne closed his eyes tight, shaking slightly in concentration, but still, nothing. Worried for his student's health with so much frustration in his veins, Janos went to pat Jayne on the shoulder.

And found himself standing in the corridor outside.

Interesting.

Janos walked back inside, found Jayne still standing there, frowning away, while those who hadn't been solely concentrating on their own practise gaped in awe. "Jayne?"

"I'm downright luckless at this," Jayne sighed on opening his eyes and seeing that he hadn't moved.

"Luckless at teleporting yourself, perhaps," Janos replied before taking off his sash and pressing it into Jayne's hands. "Try again."

Jayne glared before doing so, and sure enough, the sash disappeared. Its sudden absence seemed to disturb him given he opened his eyes and looked at his hands as though they'd suddenly forgotten something was meant to be in them. "What -"

"I think you may have accidentally uncovered a new form of teleportation," Janos replied to the unanswered question, smiling, before gesturing for the other students to circle Jayne. "Take my hand and focus on the corridor again."

There was a chorus of applause from inside the room as Janos found himself outside it again, and he grinned to himself for a moment before picking his sash up from where it had been dropped by the second use of this strange technique and re-entering. Luckless at teleporting himself, but in that lucklessness he'd found something they had longed to discover for years.

"Would you object if we studied you rather than basic techniques for this session, Jayne? It isn't often a new ability is discovered entirely by accident."

Jayne had no objections. He hadn't been the centre of attention for all the right reasons in quite some time.