Waking up in the middle of the night used to be a common occurrence about a year ago, when this tactician work was a massive burden on my mind and the fear of losing one of my comrades in battle was paralyzing. But now, it was simply a rare change of pace. Part of me was actually looking forward to the next time I wake up in the night, and it seems today would be the day. And so, I'm now walking through our camp, with nothing but the sounds of some crickets chirping and a nearby campfire softly crackling accompanying me. It's a wonderful soundscape, perfect for looking up at the beautiful night sky, taking in all the stars and just generally enjoying being alive. I've come a long way from suffering open mental breakdowns from the pressure—thanks to some good friends, I've become far more stable, and in fact, some of the troops look to me for guidance not only in warfare, but in other matters as well. I have to say... it feels good being someone people look up to.
And it's a good thing too, because our current situation is very trying—we'd spent all this time looking for one of the noblemen's father, and when we finally found him, he died not half an hour later—and while there are some people I can't even begin to think about how I would comfort them—like the aforementioned nobleman—I can help some of them. We've just gotten through a grueling battle where we were ambushed in the night, and I think everybody's really on edge right now. But at least it seems like everybody's sleeping soundly right now, apart from the two knights that are currently awake as night guards, and me, of course. Friendly greetings are exchanged, as are a few words about the current situation, but then I move on again, continuing my walk through the quiet camp.
But as I walk on, I notice something strange. There is clearly light coming from one of the tents. Is somebody still awake? Thinking about the layout of our camp, I quickly surmise that the tent must belong to Erk, the young mage in our army. He has been a bit of a problem case recently—it seemed like the last few battles, he hadn't been on his a-game at all, though his natural talent worked to cover for it a bit—is it because he's not getting enough sleep? Erk was never one to open up much to others—in both campaigns I've commanded him, he was always very quiet and secluded, preferring to study on his own compared to talking with the others—but if it really is starting to affect his performance in battle, then it's past time it became my concern. I should've seen the signs earlier, honestly, but this is no time to think about the past.
I slowly step inside his tent, and as expected, there he is, hunched over a tome. I don't think he's even noticed me coming in, either, but as I approach, he eventually takes note and turns around. It's the first time in a few days I've seen him close-up and one-on-one, and gods, he looks terrible. Bags under his eyes, an empty expression... has he even been eating? I suddenly remember I hadn't seen him when rations or the communal stew were being passed out. However, I don't want to immediately confront him and seem like I'm being overly controlling, since there might be a reason for what he's doing, but it's definitely a real concern for me now.
"Hey, Erk, what're you doing still up?" I ask innocently.
"Oh, ${Tactician's name?}... what do you mean 'still up'? ...what time is it?" he replies, exhaustion clearly audible in his voice.
"It's the middle of the night, Erk... have you been awake all this time, studying?" I say, concern starting to creep into my tone. I can tell he's starting to show a certain discomfort, but I have to press on here, since this is for the good of the group... and for his own good, too.
"Erm, I suppose so... this book was really interesting and has these new applications of magic that could make me even better at casting, and that could make me even more useful in the future..." he answers.
I decide to go point blank with my next question. "...when's the last time you ate, Erk?"
There's a noticeable shift in his expression. He probably feels like he's been caught doing something bad, and, well, that's because he has, so he starts sounding more defensive now. "It's... it's not a big deal. I'll get some in the morning, and it'll be fine. You don't have to worry..."
But I'm not letting him off that easy, because I know he's dodging. "When, Erk?" I repeat, this time with more insistence behind it.
He's visibly startled by that, and I can tell he's not used to something like this. When he speaks next, his voice is meeker, almost scared of what's going to happen to him when he admits the truth. "Two... two days ago... I think. I had a quarter of a ration I got four days ago. I... I know that's not enough, but... I need to get better at magic. When I'm done with this book, I promise, I'll..."
Excuses. I've got him flustered now, and he's already admitting that his behavior isn't right. Now I just need to pressure him a bit more, and so that's what I do.
By the time I'm done grilling him, I've gotten him to admit multiple times that he's pushing himself too far—that he's not eating enough, that he's not sleeping enough, that it's starting to affect his battlefield performance—and he's starting to look like a puppy that's being scolded for peeing on the carpet or something like that. But I'm really not mad at him, because he's doing it out of a desire to better himself in other areas, and he's recognizing it's a problem, so it's not like he's insistent that nothing needs to change. He just needs some help, and as the tactician of this group, I feel like it's my obligation to help him out, so that's what I'm going to do. Sure, he protests, he says he's sure he can get it under control, and there must be others that need my help more, but I stay insistent. And so I head out to the supply tent, grab two new rations, bring them back to his tent, and the two of us eat together.
As we eat, we slowly get into more mundane conversations, and it seems to become more clear to him that I'm genuinely only interested in his well-being. He tells me about a similar incident in his past where he pushed himself too far and collapsed, and his teacher had to nurse him back to health. It's been a point of embarrassment for him ever since, but the problem is that that has only led to him pushing himself harder here—without that guiding figure in his life, he's fallen back into bad habits. And as we talk, another topic comes up, namely that of intimacy. I start getting the impression that maybe sleep and food aren't the only things he's been lacking, and, well, right now, I'm probably the only one here that can give him... something more. After all, it's my responsibility, right?
And so, I move a little bit closer, gently cupping his cheek. "Say, Erk... you're a little bit... pent up down there, aren't you?" I ask, letting my tone get a bit more sultry as if it were nothing.
His reaction is immediate, his youthful face turning red, contrasting nicely with his purple hair. "I... I d-don't know w-what you're talking about..." he stammers. Gods, I've never noticed how cute he is.
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about... everybody else is asleep, it's just the two of us here..." I whisper in his ear, and then... I make my move.