I'd started something else entirely, but Lukas has been on my mind as of late. If it were not for Ezekiel, he'd probably be my favorite playable unit in Shadows of Valentia. Some things as of late have been almost like signs to do something with him, and so I settled on some down time for him.

War was something the group The Deliverance had become accustomed to. Those who did not fight, but had heard of their exploits, often romanticized being in a rebel group that was attempting to restore the Kingdom of Zofia back to its former glory. To hear merchants, maidens, and children talk of it, it was all action, battle, recruiting, and training.

What the common person did not realize was that war could be incredibly dull.

Not only were there things to do before and after battles, such as cleaning and sharpening weapons, scouring armor, and taking inventory, there was also the need to replenish their stores, a task that sometimes was easy and sometimes more challenging. Some people were more than willing to aid them, but just as many were not going to offer their help. If The Deliverance failed, they would say, sometimes apologetic yet often not, they did not want to face punishment for helping rebels.

There was also the planning stages of battle, the arguments over who should be recruited to their small group, keeping a watchful eye on some of the more rowdy members, and the task of keeping their hideout safe, livable, but still hidden. Hiding in a graveyard had been clever. Most people thought it haunted and stayed away. Only the bravest of kids would venture in, and yet one glimpse of a Terror sent everyone running.

Terrors were the only thing haunting their hideout. When they first claimed it, many fought the Terrors, but with time, they had learned to simply creep around them. If they could not extermination them, why not use them to their advantage?

More often than not, the members of The Deliverance just wanted to find something to do. For Lukas, it was reading. He had purchased a book months ago, but he had not so much as gotten through the first paragraph. He had begun it three times within the past week, but something had always come up. Inventory had been taken, their stores had been refilled, and his armor gleamed as best as it could. It was time to finally read.

Before he could read, however, he wanted to be sure to find a place where no one would disturb him. At that point, if he could make it past the first page without interruption, he would be happy. With his book tucked under his left arm, he started his search.

He stepped around troops who were playing dice, careful to not interrupt their game. They all greeted him and offered a place at their game. He politely declined and continued on his way, the sound of clattering dice and a loud groan fading as he went around a corner in the corridor. He had chose that particular part of the tombs because the hall was void of Terrors and there was a small niche in the middle of the hall where a statue had once stood. When they claimed their hideout, it had been crumbling and was swiftly removed.

The plinth had remained, and that was were Lukas sat, his legs stretched before him, as he cracked open his book. He had barely gotten into the second paragraph, the furthest point he had reached in his book, when he heard footsteps. He glanced up in time to see Clair hurrying past. He had little doubt the young woman was in search of her brother. Even though she sidestepped him easily, she called back over her shoulder, "Be careful, Lukas, you're likely to trip someone sitting that way!"

"My apologies, Clair." If she heard him or not, he did not know, as she had all ready rounded the corner on the other end of the hall.

He had picked that hall because it was quiet, and he hoped people would see him. It was never his intention to risk tripping someone. He tried to sit with his legs tucked under him, but he found himself uncomfortable in nearly every other position. The plinth was not that big, and he was not able to scrunch fully into it without pain or risk of a limb falling asleep.

So much for that spot, then.

Lukas got up from the plinth, dusted off his clothing, tucked his book under his arm, and began a search for another place to read where he could not be disturbed or trip anyone.

As he walked, he tried to think of a good, quiet place where no one would disturb him. He would do anything for their group, they were all like a family to him, but he also wanted his own down time. He passed an open tomb, most of them were open at that point, and heard a low snarl. From the shadows of the tomb, he could make out the glow of eyes. The Terror made no effort to attack. It just snarled to let Lukas know he was not welcome in the tomb.

Lukas shook his head. He had no desire to enter the Terror's area. Python had started to name them after they shortly arrived, and for some, the names had stuck. The one that snarled and protected his space, but rarely attacked, was now known as Lord Tatters. He kept going. Once he was a reasonable enough distance away from Lord Tatters, the growling stopped.

A half dozen tombs lay between the one belonging to Tatters and an empty one. It had never been used by anyone. The cemetery might have been abandoned before it was needed or the person who should have been there died fighting elsewhere. No one knew, and no one cared. It was a quiet area, a place where Terrors also did not wander. It had first been used as a sleeping area, but it was so far from their other, more desirable spots that it had become more of a distant storeroom. A small cache of weapons and a few crates of food were inside. If they were ever raided, all of their supplies would not be lost.

Lukas stuck his head inside and saw it was empty. He stepped inside and shut his eyes just for a moment. It was so quiet. He placed his book on a large crate of dried meat and crossed the room to the weapons. He picked up a smaller crate full of arrows and carried it to the crate of meat. He put it on the ground in front of the other crate with a thump, then climbed on the bigger crate, grabbed his book, and stretched his legs out on the smaller crate. Once again, he opened his book and began to read.

Not only did Lukas manage to get past the first page, but he was nearly twenty pages in when he was interrupted again.

"Hey, Lukas, what are you doing in here?" Python leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hmm?" Lukas took the time to finish the paragraph he had been reading and then glanced up. "Ah, hello, Python. I just wanted a few moments to myself. I've been trying to read this book for too long."

Python glanced at the book in his hand and nodded. He could understand that, even if he wasn't the most bookish person in the army. "I ask because Forsyth was looking for you, but I'll tell him to leave the scholar alone with his book." Python left Lukas with a laugh.

Lukas waited for a moment or two, his finger marking his place for the moment, before he pulled a small strip of ribbon from his pocket. He had used that piece of ribbon to mark his place in his book for a very long time, and the use showed. The ends were tattered, but it still served its purpose. He marked his page, shut the book, and hopped down from his perch.

He knew Forsyth meant well, but he could be very excitable. He was probably bored himself, and was likely looking for Lukas to train with him, talk to him, or just to give him something to do. Lukas felt a little guilty as he quietly hurried from his hiding place. He did not hate Forsyth, or anyone in the Deliverance, but he knew Forsyth would find some way to drag him from his book.

He also would not put it past Python to point Forsyth in his direction.

He found himself retracing his steps. The dice game from before had broken up. He could hear laughter further away. Someone was no doubt pleased with their victory, and the money they pocked from the rest of the men. He paused for a moment, unsure of exactly which way to go. He wound up going past the large, open room many of them slept in when they were not on duty. It would be too obvious a place and people were often in and out. He also did not wish to disturb anyone if they wanted a quick nap.

There was a quiet room past their sleeping area. Inside there was nothing but some weeds rising through the stones and a fountain. The faint trickle of water was a soothing sound and would not distract him from his book.

When he arrived, he found he was not the only one who thought of that room. Inside, on the edge of the fountain, sat Fernand. Lukas felt pity for him. His posture said everything. He sat with his head in his hands, his legs drawn close to the fountain as if to make himself unnoticeable. Lukas quietly tried to sneak away. He did not wish to disturb the other man.

Either Fernand heard him or sensed the presence of someone in the doorway. A grey eye peeked between his fingers. Lukas froze midstep.

"My apologies, Fernand," he began. "I had no idea you were in here."

Fernand began to rise though his gaze was kept on the ground. If he had been crying, Lukas could not tell, but he would not blame him if he had. Instead of taking a step back as he had planned, Lukas took a step closer to Fernand instead.

"Do you want to talk?" he offered. A sympathetic ear never hurt anyone.

"No," Fernand managed to say. It took a few efforts for the silver-haired knight to form that two letter word.

Lukas thought of pushing it but decided not to. He instead told Fernand to sit. "You were here first. Please stay. I'll find somewhere else."

He left as Fernand sank heavily back on the fountain. If anyone needed solitude, it was Fernand. He just wanted to read, but Fernand was grieving the loss of his entire family.

Lukas stopped several feet down the hall. Should he just return his book to his belongings for the time being? It seemed that everything was going to stop him that day. Should he take the pages he had read as a victory?

Then an idea struck him.

Inventory had been done, he recalled as he walked briskly to the main storeroom, and with inventory complete, no one would probably go in there until they needed something, such as food for dinner. That would be hours away. Why had he not thought of it sooner?

Lukas found it blessedly empty. There were crates, some empty, stacked around the room, but he found a better place. Other crates had been spread throughout the room, with seven grouped in an incomplete square. There was a crate to lean his back on, and enough room to stretch his legs where he would both not be in the way and not seen from the doorway. A torch on the wall behind him cast more than enough light for him to read by. There was even food nearby in case he grew hungry.

Yes, Lukas decided as he stretched out and opened his book, it was the perfect place to read.