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Mika finds himself comforted by the warm campfire crackling at his boots. It’s been a long day of walking and everyone in the expedition is in need of some well-deserved rest. The trek was challenging, even with Mika’s experience in the Reconnaissance Company. The path is steep and rocky and occasionally slick with rivulets. And he’s responsible not only for keeping up with the expedition, but also surveying the surroundings and making notes in his atlas. He’s used to the weight of the atlas, heavy with a litany of parchment and leather-bound covers. But Mika finds the pace Varka keeps the expedition demanding. Not that Mika isn’t up for a challenge. No, Mika is determined to accomplish any task he’s set out to do. And getting to survey new landscapes and explore new lands… shimmers of excitement flash in his deep blue eyes at the prospect. His chief complaint? There isn’t enough time to truly appreciate the land around him.
The heat of the fire warms his legs against the chill the brisk wind swirls around him, ruffling his hoodie and flipping the corners of the pages in Mika’s lap. His atlas is comfortably perched between his legs, the pages faintly illuminated by the campfire. Through gentle inhales, he can smell the thick scent of burning wood. It reminds him of times back with the Reconnaissance Company when they would spend nights in Dragonspine. Camping out in wait for Fatui rendezvous and meetings under the cover of night. Huddled around a small fire and waiting for Eula’s orders. Back then he had enough time to hone in on his surroundings, to appreciate all of the smallest details. The birds and foxes that called Dragonspine their home. The plants that manage to flourish in those harsh conditions. The warm glowing magenta gemstones that accumulate in crags. Mika admires it all.
Mika lifts the lefthand corner of his pages and takes a peek at his Dragonspine maps. They’re perhaps his most extensive maps to date. His work with the Reconnaissance Company brought him to Dragonspine many times and so he got to mark every trail and landmark he could find. Mika can’t help the smile of pride that curls the edges of his lips at the sight.
Now. Now Mika is filling out his newest maps by the light of the fire. Filling in the spaces between the landmarks he had already jotted down during the trek. Enemy camps were the easiest to add. Littler elements like the smallest details of terrain that crossed their path were more difficult to record. Creeks, flagstones, conifers, ravines. A large yellow feather twirls through the air as he inks across the pages. The tip of his pen makes a distinct scratchy sound as the metal grits against the parchment. He’s come to enjoy the sound; it's satisfying and reminds him of his hard work.
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Mika’s eyes wrinkle affectionately as he nears the conclusion of his work. It’s at times like these that he’s grateful for his strong memory. He remembers once a knight had offhandedly said to him, “with a memory like yours, you could probably go to the Sumeru Akademiya!” Mika never gave it any thought. He can’t imagine anything worse than being stuck in classrooms learning abstract theories.
No, he belongs here.
He takes a deep breath in, the scent of pine trees mixing with wet grass and charred wood melding together into the perfect essence of nature. No matter how hard the work might be, it’s all worth it, he asserts to himself. He looks down with a pleased smile at the maps spread across his lap, mostly completed with his extensive notes. He gives the ink a chance to settle on the pages before folding the atlas closed and latching it shut. His work finished, Mika simply stares at the fire and watches the embers that escape from the heat before flickering out into nothingness. Little glowing lights trying to make their own way in the world. Mika can relate. Perhaps it’s only Mika who could relate to the embers from a campfire. His daydreaming is interrupted by a voice that calls from behind his shoulder.
“Cartographer Schmidt, you’re requested in the Grand Master’s quarters.” Mika peers back over his shoulder to catch a beautiful blonde woman with her hair pulled back. It’s the Alder Knight. Mika swallows hard and wobbles onto his feet (despite his best attempts to still his nerves). He grabs the straps of his atlas and pulls it over his shoulders, putting it back to its comfortable resting spot against his lower back. Facing the Alder Knight in full, he bends forward into a bow that makes his bag slide forward and it hits the back of his head.
“A—Alder Knight, —ma’am!” Mika ignores the ache from his atlas smacking him in the head.
“Mika…” The older woman sighs somewhat empathetically, folding her arms in turn. “There’s no need to be that formal. Just go to Varka’s tent.”
Mika peeks up from his bow to catch Frederica’s crossed arms. Perhaps he’s taking too long and wasting her valuable time. He’d have to write her to apologize later. But now his priority is going to Grand Master Varka. Mika straightens himself up and adjusts the straps that lay across his chest and connect to his atlas. He starts fidgeting with the leather strap, twisting it between his gloved fingers, as he makes his way to the Grand Master’s tent. His mind is overflowing with anxious thoughts and theories.
Is he getting sent back to Mondstadt already? Was he ill-suited for the expedition? Did he do something wrong on the trail? Did he miss a landmark or enemy camp? All of these situations end with him getting a stern reprimand. It would be justified—Mika is sure of this.
The small blonde gently lifts one flap of the tent and slips his way inside. A foldable chair and table have been set out and there are an array of papers strewn across the surface. There’s a precarious stack of scrolls that looks like it might fall over if the wind blew a little harder. Varka seems engrossed in his work. So much so that he doesn’t immediately notice Mika when he enters. In fairness, one of the paper stacks is tall enough to obscure the short boy. Sheepishly, Mika shuffles towards Varka’s desk and plants himself in front of Varka’s work.
“You wanted to s-see me, sir?” Mika does his best to keep his voice steady and confident, but anxiety leaks through regardless. He straightens himself out and his arms are folded so tightly behind his back that they’re already starting to grow sore. With Mika’s approach and introduction, Varka peers up from his work. A warm grin dashes across his face in turn.
“Ah, Mika, what perfect timing! Come here, take a seat.” There’s an empty chair beside him that Varka pats. Peering over, Mika takes note of Varka’s hands. They’re large, so much larger. They would dwarf Mika’s. And they’re gnarled with an array of odd scars across his knuckles and fingers. Well-aged from battle. Mika can’t help but find him admirable. With a moment of hesitation, Mika shuffles over to the spare chair and plops down beside Varka.
“Do you know why I recruited you into the expedition team?” In truth, he had never been given a reason, only an order. ‘You’ve been recruited into Grand Master Varka’s expedition team. You are to report to the Favonius Headquarters for further details.’ He never quite questioned why he was selected. There were plenty of other capable cartographers in Mondstadt who could’ve filled the position. Now presented with the question, Mika finds himself curious.
“Because you needed a cartographer?” Mika returns in earnest. His hands are placed on his legs and he anxiously grips the fabric of his shorts.
“Well, yes, we need a cartographer. But I could’ve picked any cartographer. I selected you. You’re very talented Mika and very hard-working. In my experience, one rarely comes with the other.” Heat spreads across Mika and warms the tips of his ears at the compliment. He had expected an earful, not praise. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to react or what he’s supposed to say.
“But you still have room to improve. You’re strong. Wayyyy stronger than your scrawny appearance would imply. But you’re a klutz and your combat skills are rough.” Now the heat pitters into embarrassment. He was right, of course. He went through plenty of grueling training with Eula, but in action, he tends to underperform. At least, not to the best of his potential.
“Well, I didn’t call you in here just for a performance review. It’s too early for that anyways, hahaha.” He lets out his signature hardy laugh and playfully slaps his knee. He laughs, exhales, and steadies his breath before turning to face Mika with a newfound seriousness.
“I’ve had my eye on you for a little while Schmidt. Perhaps your most valuable asset is that you’re hardworking and earnest. You carry out your tasks diligently and efficiently. Even Captain Eula has praise for you. I need someone on this expedition that I can trust to deal with… a variety of odd jobs I have.” Mika does his best to suppress the red that continues to warm his face and swallows down his nerves. The last thing he expected from this meeting was praise. Someone the Grand Master can trust… a wave of pride suffuses deep in Mika’s chest.
“It would be my honor, sir.” Mika places a fist over his chest in somewhat of a salute. The best he can do while seated. His brows furrow together in an attempt to look serious but mostly makes him look like he needs to use the restroom. Varka studies Mika’s face for a long moment before bursting out into a loud laugh. It causes Mika’s eyebrows to relax and his posture slumps, just a little, in confusion. The older man wipes at his eye and lets out a deep satisfied sigh. He reaches over with that big hand and rubs the top of Mika’s head, ruffling out his blonde hair. Mika flushes at the contact and wonders how messy his hair might look now.
“You need to loosen up a little Mika. You’ll be reporting directly to me from now on. And I’ll have some odd errands for you to run now and then.” Varka pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment. “And my first task for you is to go and get a good night’s sleep. We need our cartographer lucid and attentive tomorrow. I trust you can do this for me?” Varka’s lip curls into a smirk-like smile as he locks eyes with Mika, his eyes wrinkling endearingly.
Slightly relaxed now, Mika gives a little nod of his head. “Yes sir.” He returns, many of his nerves from earlier melting away into a quiet calm. “You can trust me. No matter what the task is, I’ll carry it out at 100%.” Mika asserts as he stands him, dusting off the wrinkles from where he had been gripping his shorts. Varka’s lips spread into a contented smile and he turns his shoulders back to his desk. Reaching out and picking up the pen he had set down earlier.
“Good. Have a good night, Mika.” Mika makes for the exit and hesitates just for a moment as his hand holds open one of the tent flaps. He peers over his shoulder at the Grand Master who has diligently returned to his work.
“Good night sir.”
He can’t get the words above a low murmur so they don’t reach his Master. But he hopes that with his actions he can prove his loyalty. After all, Varka is the Grand Master, the Knight of Boreas, the strongest knight in all of Mondstadt. The opportunity to work directly with him is an opportunity to learn from him. And a certain pleasant warmth stirs in his chest as the prospect. He has a feeling that he’ll grow a lot from this expedition.