Days passed in quiet silence.
It was quaint, really. Sohow, Kreig found that he was really enjoying the whole matter of being tutored, despite his primary misgivings. It was mainly because of Erica. Her academic skills aside, she seed to truly understand how to talk to him. How to gently coax him in the right direction.
Even stranger, at tis, when she asked for his opinion regarding events and historic people and scientific theories, Kreig found himself with an answer.
If she were to ask what he thought about the existence of colonialism or what his opinion on it was, or how it ca to be, he would answer what he thought and what he believed. The weak were conquered and the strong ruled, as it should be. Kings rose to power by the asure of their privileged birth, churches held influence beyond the asures of individual n. When looking at history from the perspective of a scholar reading the text of the winners, everything seed to have gone very smoothly.
Kingdoms rose, gaining power and territory only to lose it again. The ebb and flow of the world.
It all made a lot of sense, but when Kreig told Erica, she looked at him kind of strangely. Or he was imagining things. Probably.
But the next ti she asked about it, her curiosity shone strongly. They should have gone past the middle ages by that point, but she lingered if only to ask Kreig about the movents and decisions of specific kings and empires. Should he have done this? Would there have been a better choice? Was going into war a last-ditch effort or the first thought asured?
Kreig, being a man who had learnt that being honest was one of the greatest virtues, explained his thoughts, albeit a little reluctantly. It felt a bit out of line to talk about it all, but as a man practically raised in war, he answered. The last ti his opinions on war had been this intently considered was during his ti with the Empire. It almost felt nice, if the subject hadnt been a bit weird.
To Erica, Kreig just beca an even greater conundrum. At first, shed thought his mostly positive opinions on monarchy and dictatorships and historical atrocities had ant he was so sort of fascist, but as she continued inquiring on the subject, more information ca out. Specifically that he was actually a real history buff. In terms of predicting the cause and effect of war, at least. He couldnt na a single European king or an Asian dynasty, but when presented with a few facts, he could reasonably predict what their role in history had been and how nearby countries had reacted.
It was fascinating. Kind of like finding a fishing genius who had never visited any body of water before.
Only one little thought stopped her from fully believing him to be a military genius who had spent his years after leaving high school as a secret military advisor for the US governnt. This was the fact that it all seed to co from experience. And not the kind of experience that she imagined sitting in a room with a dozen other old guys discussing where to strike next, but more so from in-person battles.
He didnt just predict the actions of a King, after all, but so too the actions and lives of ordinary people. Which prices would sink or balloon, what cause this would have in specific regions, and all with the cold analytical prowess of a man who has seen it all before.
At so point, Erica figured that the ti period in which he could analyze things the clearest was between 1500-1700, though earlier than that was fine, too. With later ages than that, he could only barely understand, much less analyze it.
The only obvious mistake he made through it all was his estimate of just how many wars were conducted at any point in ti. To him, there should always be a war going on - sowhere, soti. Always another atrocity, always a genocide taking place, never-ending starvation and plague.
In the end, even Erica had to admit that she had no idea what any of it ant. All she could imagine was that Kreig might be a secret ultra-professional in so sort of war strategy ga about those ages, but even then, that didnt really explain what seed like first-hand experience. The way he looked wistfully out of the window as he spoke softly of what the victors had to do to remain victorious, or how he bitterly recounted how quickly victory could turn to loss.
There was a poetry in it, but she couldnt read it.
If she had asked Kreig about it straight out, he might have answered her honestly. Might. More than anything, he would have been too stunned by the question to say anything.
His visits to Darius were peaceful as well. For the most part, at least.
The man seed to have an eerie quality when it ca to lulling Kreig to a sense of security. And then, while he was at his most talkative, when hed been gently taken out of his shell, Darius would ask him little mundane questions, and Kreig would answer. Soone who listened to him even when he had little to nothing to say. Soone who heard his worries and woes and asked him to speak more.
It was Interesting, that was for sure.
His siblings took things easy as well.
They ca ho from work at slightly separate tis, but by the ti George was ho, dinner was ready and served. Then, after dinner, they would all do their own things. George usually read or wrote last-second reports on this or that, Sam played video gas or watched so sort of moving image, and Kreig Well, he did a bit of it all.
Sotis he quietly painted, sotis he sat down beside George to read a novel, and sotis he got Sams permission to read one of her comic books (that was the na) or to even play one of her so-called video gas. It was all awfully quaint.
Punctuated only by his occasional frustration.
The Saturday after procuring the blood of oath, theyd gone to check out the small storage they had. Most of the things were their parents, but so of the various paraphernalia had once belonged to Kreig. He didnt recognize a single thing. Trophies and CDs and barbells.
The only thing he actually - sohow - recognized was a little stuffed animal.
As George told him, hed actually been quite the collector at one point. Most of them were from carnival gas that hed won, with his intention being to one day gift all of them to so girl he might one day pick up. But the only one George and Sam had kept - on account of the limited storage place - had been his very first win.
A little stuffed fish that hed won at a ring-toss ga at the ripe age of 5. The fish was rather large, almost the size of Kreigs oversized fist. As a child, hed apparently brought it everywhere - until the other kids at football practise told him it was childish. But hed kept it, even though the fish was almost the size of his own body.
And here it was. Green and blue, with big, bulbous eyes and a wide mouth. The outside had clearly once been fluffy and fair, but after years of handling and hugging, it had all been matted down into compressed strands.
Kreig decided to bring it ho.
But George insisted on bringing one other thing, naly: Kreigs old computer. It had been up-to-model when Kreig die-, erm, disappeared, so it was still relevant enough. They brought it ho, put it on Kreigs desk, and there it was. Kreigs last excuse not to go job-hunting.
At least he had little Lennard, the fishy.
And so began a couple of weeks of what Kreig could only describe as pure bliss punctuated by deep hell.
First, George helped him make a CV. It was far from impressive, and George went so far as to tell him that the ten-year gap alongside his lack of High-School diploma might just make this quite hard. Kreig had thought it would be fine. During his years, hed had plenty of experience in various subjects. Mostly as a soldier, but hed had his assignnts. Chop wood, help in sermons, eat fifteen helpings of half-rotten rations
Getting a job would have been easy if George didnt bar him from writing down his 130 years of additional experience. IOCRO would throw an understandable fit, hed said. Kreig couldnt disagree, but he still felt that his CV might not look quite as full as it could be.
So it began.
Despite seeking every half-ti job possible, be it cooking or Botanics or serving, he didnt get a single reply.
At one point he at least got to attend an interview.
It did not go well.
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