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    Slowly, we made our way out of the winding halls of the ruin, the faded pictures on its walls not even encouraging another glance from us. Whilst no doubt important, the other archivists can take pictures of them for later study, along with collecting any relics or easily transportable rocks or the like. Right now, my priority was getting Cinder out of the ruin, back to camp, and get her warm.


    I should probably have mentioned, I''m wearing the typical body armor that Atlesian soldiers do with the brown highlights that denote my being part of the Atlesian Military Archive. The white metallic armour only covers the upper half of my body and arms, with the rest, including my legs, only have a padded material that''s something between leather and wool, for protection. I''m lacking the helmet, although I do have one, currently stowed away at the bottom of my locker under a varied and copious pile of random crap. The lack of a helmet is probably a good thing, given it provided Cinder with a moderately friendly face, even if it drew her eyes to our similarly dark hair.


    "...Mister Casper? Sir?" The small girl asked aloud.


    "Yes Cinder?" I replied, keeping my voice level and kindly.


    "Where are we going?"


    "Our main camp, Cinder. It''s an airship touched down in a clearing." I explained, before allowing myself a small smile. "Have you ever been in an airship?"


    "N-No sir…" She hesitated, desperation and worry slowly starting to fill her voice. "B-But..I-I..."


    "You..don''t need to call me ''Sir'', Cinder." I told her gently. "Casper''s fine, honest."


    "...N-Not sir?" Cinder asked, in the tone of voice of someone used to false hope.


    "Yep! Not sir."


    "Oh." Cinder hummed. "..Not-sir…"


    "How old are you, little Cinder?" I ask, loud enough for the other soldiers around us to hear.


    "I''m five Mister Casper Sir-Not-Sir!"


    Five?! How can someone be so light at five years old?! "I see." I share a look with one of the soldiers at our side, and though I cannot see them, there is little doubt that blatant concern is pooling in his eyes. Cinder is small. Small and light. Too small and light for a five year old. And just like that, without even meeting her, Luna Fall soared up our shitlists.


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    "...I see." I repeat, and smile kindly. "Thank you, Cinder."


    "You''re welcome Casper Sir-Not-Sir." She chirped, and I could''ve sworn that I heard some of the others around me chuckle softly.


    "Just Casper, Cinder. Just Casper."


    _____________________________________________________________________


    Lieutenant James Ironwood kept a neutral expression on his face as he watched my group approach the airship we''re calling a base. He was younger, obviously. Lacking his later cybernetics, save perhaps the implant above his right eye. He took a large gulp of coffee from his mug, a vile dark blend that was undrinkable to everyone but him. He placed the mug down on the ground beside him, and cleared his throat.


    "Archivist Schwartz." He addressed me in a plain tone. "Would you care to explain what the f-..what in Remnant''s name is going on?"


    "...I''d love to, Sir. Unfortunately, I''m still figuring that out myself." I smile. "We found this little one in the main chamber. This is Cinder Fall, sir. Figured it''d be best to get her the hell out of there as fast as I could."


    The Lieutenant let out a long suffering sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, and looked Cinder over. "...You did the right thing, Archivist. But you do understand that her presence here complicates matters."


    You have no idea, Jimmy. "I am aware, sir." I replied. "Although with respect, I''m pretty certain ''random mystery child'' would complicate almost anything."


    Ironwood merely nodded once. "A fair point…..and something I''m certain will end up in the damn handbook."


    I bite back a laugh as exasperation starts to fill Ironwood''s voice. The current General of the Atlesian Military is an old traditionalist, a racist and frankly a puppet of the council, who barely knew how to wipe his own backside unless he was told to do so. "The General does love his handbook."


    "...Indeed." Ironwood commented in an even tone. "That he does. I won''t tell him you said that, don''t worry."


    I smile, inclining my head. "Thank you sir."


    "...I am aware you are young, Archivist Schwartz, but you will be responsible for her. She seems attached to you already." Ironwood told me with a faint smile. "I''m afraid it means office work here at base, but it''ll be safer for the gi-..for Cinder."


    "Understood sir." I replied, offering a salute. "A little paperwork never hurt anyone, ex-"


    "Except Cherry in accounting, yes I''ve heard the saying." Ironwood chuckled. "I have no idea where it came from.."


    "I...don''t think anyone does.." I shrug. "Just one of those office mysteries, perhaps."


    "..Dismissed, Archivist." The older man commanded with a small smile and a salute.


    "..Yes sir." I replied, returning the salute as I headed off.


    With any luck, I''ll be able to bullshit my way through the rest of this deployment, and get myself, and Cinder, back to the relative safety of the city of Atlas. So long as I can avoid politics, the White Fang when they turn violent, politics, the Grimm, politics, Luna Fall showing up and politics, I should manage to give Cinder stability for a few years.


    Hopefully.