Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Women and men have different ways of talking, at least in Eternia. This makes the new arrival from Florem stick out like a sore thumb: he is a young man grown in a country of women, and as much as he takes great offense when his manhood is called into doubt, there’s no denying that his manner of speaking makes him sound more like the women he learned it from. Mahzer is no linguist, so she’s not quite able to put her finger on all that makes his words stand out as different from the men’s—the higher intonation is obvious enough, but there’s more, little things beyond that. The Florem flourish sounds different in a boy’s voice, but it’s definitely present. And when Alternis is patient and in a good mood, which is usually when he is found with Edea, the little questions stand out: “Right?”, “You follow?”, always making sure the younger child is keeping up with him when she’s not tearing along her own line of thought. It’s perhaps a bit strange to hear a young man talk in such a way, but his voice is clear and sweet enough to make it rather becoming.

But he is a young man entering Eternia’s army, and Mahzer knows how certain officers, Crowe and Heinkel in particular, feel about women and femininity. Their attitudes infect the ranks and it’s all too often that Alternis is sour and recalcitrant, mocked when he speaks for how he does and mocked when he bites his tongue. Braev is soon sighing that the only solution the boy seems to have found is to speak with his fists—which is, at least, a step up from using his blade, but still no good for keeping order in the ranks. It’s easier for one to change than a multitude, so it’s no surprise that after some weeks Alternis is deliberately pitching his voice deeper and rougher, and the rolling tones of his motherland are beginning to vanish. It’s a somewhat regrettable change, but after the weeks have turned into months and months into years, it’s all but forgotten by the Lee family. Braev, Mahzer and Edea have all grown used to the clipped tones Alternis has come to use and can hardly imagine him speaking any other way. The memory of how Alternis was when he first arrived into their lives only comes to Mahzer’s mind when she is face to face with Edea and her daughter’s new friends. She asks them to take care of her daughter and one young man assures her, with a bow even, that he would never do anything but. While his words alone would make her happy, his voice broadens her smile further. He’s only got a hint of it, but he has it, that novel Florem flourish. It goes perfectly with his charming manner.

Chapter Text

The sands of Ancheim stretched out on all sides of them, and Tiz took solace in the winds blowing across the landscape. If the crystals were safe, then their sole vestal must be as well. He closed his eyes and let the breeze play over his face, and steadfastly ignored the distant rumbling of Promethean Fire roaring across the desert. It wasn’t really there. That was the celestial realm. This was Luxendarc, and he anchored his mind in the physical details of the world: the intense sun bearing down, the exhaustion in his weakened muscles, but most importantly, the cooling breeze he’d once helped Agnès revive.

“That look on your face… you’re thinking of something pleasant,” Magnolia commented.

He opened his eyes slowly, looking at her. Her carefree attitude hadn’t changed one bit as they’d left the laboratory; he was left wondering what she was really thinking. “It’s been… so long since I’ve felt the wind blowing.”

“Oh la la, I see! Someone, then.”

“Wh-what do you—” He knew complete strangers knew of him, even if that thought was foreign to the shepherd boy he had been, but she was talking as if she knew him well. Well enough to tease him about crushes, like Edea had.

Though Edea had never gotten as close and personal during her teasing as Magnolia now did, leaning in and touching his chin with her fingers. “Hmm…? How cute. You don’t have a poker face at all, do you?”

He knew he was only proving her words as his face heated further. Her jerked his chin away from the touch. “You never did say why you retrieved me.” Rescued? He wasn’t certain it could be called that, not just yet. There was too much he didn’t know.

The silver-haired woman tilted her head, seeming to find the question strange. “Could I have left you to pickle down there? You have friends eager to see you again.”

…Was that why she was being so familiar? She knew his friends? He wanted to hope.

Chapter Text

"Edea!"

Edea turned around, surprised to see Tiz waving energetically to her as he stood by the red-clad adventurer who had turned up at so many points along their journey. What had him all excited? —Aha! There was a small crate held in his other arm. The adventurer often served as a way for Tiz to communicate with the rebuilding effort in Norende, delivering Tiz’s instructions and bringing him various gifts, as well as letting them know when Norende’s shops were selling new equipment that could be valuable in their journey. If the adventurer had just given him something, it was sure to be from the small village.

No wonder he was happy. Edea smiled before cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting: “They send you something good?”

Strangely, he shook his head, laughing. Then he cupped his one free hand around his mouth to call back. “No! They sent YOU something!”

…Wait, what? Why would the restoration workers send her anything? She barely knew them at all! It was Tiz’s hometown, and while he sometimes asked the others for their thoughts about how to prioritize the myriad projects to be completed, he took pride in the work in he was doing by organizing the laborers, and she never tried to step in on that. None of them would; they were glad Tiz had something to help occupy his mind when their adventure was at a pause.

“Are you going to come see, or do I have to bring it over? I thought you liked presents!”

Well, he was definitely chipper. It had to be something good! “Coming…!” She shouldn’t rush too much—Hartschild was too hot without breaking a sweat—but her curiosity had her breaking into a jog. What would they have sent her? Perhaps a weapon.  They’d certainly bought enough for the blacksmith to have a clue about her preferences. Except, no… the box was too compact for what she preferred. So—

Oh, who cared about guessing when they could just open it! She came to a stop in front of Tiz and the amused-looking adventurer, leaning forward curiously to get a look at the crate. Yes, much too compact for any weapon besides a dagger on the smaller side; she didn’t mind those, but why would that have Tiz looking so pleased when he knew her preference was swords? “Well? What is it? Show me, show me!”

“Haha. Hold on, give me a moment.”

“You should have gotten it open while I was coming over!”

“No way! Anticipation is one of the best parts of presents.”

Spoken like a child who had always listened to his parents and left the presents alone until they said it was okay, Edea thought. She had peeked on a number of occasions. It wasn’t bad as long as she acted surprised! And…honestly, on one or two occasions she’d needed the forewarning to be able to act pleased about Father’s gifts. He was a truly formidable mind when it came to military matters, and was utterly stumped at gift-giving unless Mother explicitly told him what to buy.

But Edea didn’t need any practice to act surprised and pleased when Tiz finally got the crate open. It was full of something Hartschild was lacking because of the war, and that she’d been dearly craving as a result—sweets! Wrapped toffee pieces filled the small crate to its brim.

“We had our own special kind of toffee in Norende,” Tiz explained. “It’s nothing fancy like the desserts in Ancheim or Florem, but I always liked having some as a treat. And I told them you like sweet things, so… I hope you’ll give it a try."

“Of course I will! Who cares about fancy? Sweet is sweet! Like you are,” Edea said with a laugh, poking Tiz’s cheek. The boy quickly leaned away from the touch, but the blush had already started, rapidly overtaking his face. “I’ll try it right now!” she declared, scooping up the box.

Tiz straightened, rubbing his cheek as he looked to the adventurer. “You gave the other box to Mrs. Goodman, right?”

The man nodded. “I’m sure the children in town will enjoy the treats as well.”

“Eh?” Edea paused in savoring the first piece. Ah, she hadn’t even thought about sharing… she felt guilty for a second, but then brushed it aside: Tiz had told her it was her present, and that was because he’d already thought of the others. “Sweet and thoughtful,” she amended.

“You don’t have to flatter me simply because I got you your craving,” Tiz said, but he was smiling.

“How about I share a piece with you instead?”

“Heh. I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

"Has the grand marshal decided which division she’ll be assigned to yet?" Einheria asked, making no effort to disguise her curiosity. Edea was practically a third sister; while they were years apart in age, they had both been disciples under Master Kamiizumi, and she had taken pride in giving the young girl some guidance when she needed it.

Alternis shook his head, spearing another forkful of stringy green beans. “Not just yet. I can say for certain she won’t be in Central Command; the grand marshal would want her to gain experience abroad. But he’s kept his thoughts on the matter to himself.”

Einheria grunted softly, unsurprised. While a clue would have been nice, it was like Braev to refrain from discussing the matter with even Alternis. No doubt he wanted to give the appearance that Edea was being treated just like any other foot soldier, even though as a father it must be impossible for him to completely divorce his feelings from the matter. “I still have some hope of seeing her among the valkyries’ ranks,” she mused. Edea had the strength of conviction a valkyrie needed, and the snow-white armor and winged headband would rather suit a girl who saw the world in black and white, making her like an avenging angel on the battlefield.

Alternis seemed to pick up only on the one word she hadn’t fully intended to say: “Still?”

The valkyrie’s eyes refocused on him, guarded. Her wish to have Edea under her wing had once been stronger, yes. But Florem seemed to be treating her two blood sisters poorly. Artemia was regressing to some of the behaviors she’d shown when the Lee family had first discovered her roaming the wilderness, and Mephilia’s behavior seemed… disjointed at times in the rare meetings they had. A selfish part of Einheria hoped that if the templar’s own flesh and blood were in the region, he would reevaluate the tactics DeRosa had decided upon; they were causing pain to both the women of Florem and the women of the Bloodrose Legion. But the logical, loyal part of her knew that victory was not painless. DeRosa’s tactics worked, and it would be insubordinate to speak against him in idle cafeteria gossip. That being the case, she did not want Edea’s high spirits possibly broken by the man’s ‘techniques’. “Your thoughts?” she asked by way of deflection. “It’s somewhat disappointing she won’t be staying in Central. You’ve never allowed others to be trained in your asterisk, but perhaps you would have made an exception for her.”

“What?” Alternis was genuinely taken aback at the suggestion, and firmly slapped his hand down on the table a second later. “Never! Not even for Edea!”

…With that much vehemence, she’d say especially not for Edea would be more accurate. His reaction had garnered looks from the other tables, though some of them were simply confused; Alternis ate in public so rarely that people always had trouble connecting his unarmored self to the dark knight they saw in the halls. “Calm yourself. It was an idea, nothing more.” His reaction was interesting, though. Alternis had always been tight-lipped about where exactly his strength as a dark knight came from, and though Braev undoubtedly knew, he had also kept it to himself; still, observations and theories had been made over the years. If the thought of Edea using his asterisk alarmed Alternis, it pointed to the theory that his occasionally amateur defense was not amateur at all, but intentionally neglected. His strength came from being wounded. She wondered how much that might explain about his personality. “If not a dark knight, what would you see her as?”

Alternis folded his arms, glaring at another table from the corner of his eyes as he made himself answer with composure. “…Edea has always talked of becoming a knight. She would most likely be happiest under Heinkel’s leadership.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know, Alternis,” Einheria ordered, annoyed by the roundabout. Anyone who knew Edea a day knew she adored knights. “What you would see her as.”

His eyes flicked back to her, but he seemed oddly embarrassed as he answered. “Unlikely as it is with Khint’s fees, I feel Edea would be well-suited to the spell fencer.” He raised his coffee to his lips for a drink quickly afterward.

“Ah? Yes, that’s true.” After all, they did make much use of the sword, one of Edea’s preferred weapons. And though Khint had stopped training others in his asterisk, she recalled he’d been a fairly good teacher before he’d suddenly quit his post; there had been a number of people interested, both men and women.  Even she had been somewhat intrigued, though the women's outfit left something to be… Ah. Perhaps someone's crush was coloring his opinion here. “I suppose the aesthetics don’t hurt,” she said, just to see how Dim would react.

He choked on his drink, sputtering, and she debated on letting her special ability kick in before taking mercy and reaching across the table to slap his back.

Chapter Text

The first time Tiz and Agnès set up camp in the wilderness, there is a long, drawn-out argument about who shall keep watch, conducted so quietly and politely (and perhaps a touch passive-aggressively) that a bystander would have missed it. He wants to protect her; she wishes to protect herself, so that he might see his aid, kindly as it is meant, is unneeded. He should return to Caldisla and let her meet the Eternian Sky Knights alone. She will resolve the situation as she must. She is their only target. No one else need come to harm, especially such a soft-hearted boy who has already lost so much.

The argument closes at a draw when they fall asleep together outside the tent on the same log, their backs each other’s mattress, their shoulders each other’s pillow, each more exhausted from their private sorrows than they would admit. Tiz stirs once or twice and realizes just what they’ve done, turns to wake Agnès to urge her into the tent—but the softest whimper from her makes him pause. She’s really, truly asleep, and she needs her rest, and he has the feeling she’ll promptly deny that if given a chance. It’s a dry night at least, comfortably cool and without wind (as all nights have been lately), so he supposes the tent isn’t really necessary. As long as she sleeps. He’ll keep watch…if he could just stop his eyes from closing…

Comforting as it is for both of them to be able to rest next to another warm body, they wake in the morning with cricks in both their necks and not a little embarrassment for the odd sleeping arrangement. Especially after Airy scolds them for both falling asleep when they were so stubborn they wouldn’t. By the time Ringabel and Edea join their party, they have established that Agnès’ mission is better served with help; she’s grown amenable to taking turns in the watch so everyone gets their rest. That first night with the four of them, the argument is instead between Ringabel and Edea: a heated discussion of the pragmatics of sharing their shift. (Him for, and her against.)

Chapter Text

"Well done, Sky Knights!" Heinkel praised as the group regrouped in the shadow of the mountains, well away from the obelisk. After the fiery battle they’d just weathered, they needed to stay out of the sun and cool off as much as possible. "An admirable job. And you, Alternis—our thanks. You were an excellent guide, and even better sword."

The black-armored boy looked up sharply before giving a jerky bow, his helmet still pointing toward Ominas, who was paying the proceedings no mind as he giggled over their prize. “Thank you, sir. But—”

Argent wasn’t sure he wanted to explain his second-in-command’s fascination, even if he had just helped the man indulge it. “Barras!” The older knight’s change of direction left Alternis floundering before he snapped his mouth shut. “You do your asterisk proud. Few men could bruise a dragon with their fists alone.”

“Gahahahaha!” The monk punched those mighty fists together, laughing in delight. “What a fight, what a fight! My fists and your and Alternis’ blades, against dragon’s claws!”

Holly scoffed, brushing her hair back with one hand… and cringing in disgust as her eyes flicked down to one particularly large bloodstain on her once pristine robes. “Are you forgetting someone?”

“Of course not,” Heinkel said smoothly. “Without your white magic, not one man among us would be standing. You’re truly invaluable, Holly.”

“Save the flattery, Heinkel—I’ll settle for a new set of robes.”

“Heh. Relax. It was ordered before we even set out for this excursion.”

“Excellent. I can’t wait to be out of this. …Barras, stop waggling your eyebrows, you oaf. You might make little Alternis faint, if the heat stroke doesn’t first.”

“I’m fine,” the teenager snapped, though he did yank off his helmet, revealing his sweltering face, red far beyond what a little innuendo could cause. Heinkel winced in sympathy. Armor could be suffocating in a fire fight. Black armor with full helmet, and in a hot region like equatorial Eisenberg… they were lucky the boy hadn’t fainted yet. He took his canteen and held it out to the young knight, and was little surprised when Dim barely hesitated before seizing it and drinking half the water, dumping the remainder over his head before he even thought to look chagrined by his impulsiveness. Heinkel dismissed the teenager’s concern with a small wave of the hand. He ought to have taken more care for the youngster beforehand, and not just due to his age; Alternis was not one of his command. While they hadn’t broken any rules by borrowing the boy from Kamiizumi on his day off-duty, it would result in awkward questions if they had to bring him into medical when they had no official reason for even being in the region. Luckily Holly had an eye for weaknesses, even if she mostly used it to pick at them.

Giving Alternis one last look—he would probably be fine, though it would help if they could convince him to leave any further fights on the return to them and take the rest of his armor off so he didn’t bake within it—Heinkel turned to Ominas. The mage was still beaming and at times giggling as he cradled, hugged really, a black, bumpy egg so long and fat that it took the man both his arms to carry.

Heinkel didn’t think he’d ever seen Crowe this happy, and he nearly wondered if he shouldn’t be concerned about what they had set into motion, getting Crowe a dragon’s egg. But the mage had given some very convincing arguments about how useful a tamed dragon would be as a beast of war, especially as it grew older. As long as Crowe kept it under control, he’d allow it. “Are you satisfied, Crowe?” Heinkel asked, putting on a sterner tone to catch his second-in-command’s attention. “The mother salamander should still be out from your sleep spell for a little longer. If you have any doubts as to whether that egg is fertilized, let’s double back now, rather than later.”

Because he’d thought dragons could be tricky, but no. Mother dragons protecting a clutch of eggs were far more vicious than the regular ones. He could even see in the corner of his eye how Alternis cringed slightly at the prospect of going back… whereas Barras looked a little too excited by the faint possibility of a second round.

“F-f-fertilized?” Crowe laughed. “How c-crass. Can’t you f-feel it, Heinkel? It’s brimming with magic, and FIRE! It’s a dragon! Eheeheehee!”

“Wonderful. He has a pet dragon,” Holly said drily, faintly, and Heinkel could hear Alternis making that noise, the noise, the one that said he found the situation odd but wasn’t sure how to phrase his objections yet. He was overthinking it, really. They had only incapacitated a dragon that, to hear rumor tell it, belonged to the long-absent archduke of Eternia, in order to steal one of its eggs for Crowe to raise as a pet-slash-weapon. As an unofficial mission. In the Black Blades’ region of command.

Heinkel really hoped Alternis continued not to find the words to question this, because he was an excellent knight and a fine young man, but so incredibly, rigidly, by-the-book at times for someone who had almost certainly lied about his age to join the army.

“Wonder how long it’ll take before it’s big enough to wrestle,” Barras mused. “Hey, Ominas! What are you going to call it?!”

“Him!” Crowe insisted heatedly. “It’ll b-b-be a male. And his name will be Bahamut!”

Chapter Text

Edea's hand, hovering in front of Agnès' stomach, found company when the vestal's fingers slid over the Eternian's, intertwining with them.  Edea blinked in surprise. The four of them and Egil had all collapsed in a pile after their brush with death, so there was a lot of contact going on at the moment: Ringabel’s arm was draped over Tiz’s shoulder and chest, the shepherd held Egil as though he might never let go, Agnès’ forehead looked to be touching Tiz’s as her body bracketed Egil’s, and Edea’s own body was curled about Agnès as her arm hung over the older girl’s side. The adrenaline had left them now that no one was about to fall into a pit of lava, and they needed a moment before they could feel like untangling themselves, physically or emotionally.

But the touch of Agnès’ fingers, slick with sweat and burning hot from their recent exertion—that was very deliberate. And even if it felt kind of gross, with Edea’s hands already being too hot from their own effort, the girl wasn’t going to pull away. Because holding hands wasn’t something Agnès did: she’d let Edea hold hers a few times in Florem, but when her only friend was vestal in another region, casual contact was foreign to the vestal of wind, unprompted touches making her tense for a second before she relaxed and allowed them. And since her friend’s death, Agnès hadn’t allowed them. Not at all. She’d pulled away from Edea so sharply, it still hurt.

But…she had made the contact this time. And was holding hands, her sweaty fingers shaking as her thin shoulders trembled. When Edea realized Agnès might be crying, she made a concerned noise, squeezing the other girl’s fingers a bit.

“I am fine,” Agnès breathed, her voice thick with tears. “I’m so relieved. Thank you, Edea.”

“I wouldn’t have let you fall,” Edea said. Nor Tiz or Egil. Agnès needn’t thank her for that.

Agnès’ full head of hair shook slowly, and this time she squeezed Edea’s hand. “Thank you. For being here.”

She needn’t give thanks for that either. But that she was giving it told Edea she would no longer be held at arm’s length or have to pull back her own open hand, and with that knowledge, Edea could feel the last bit of tension bleed out of her. She leaned forward to touch her head between Agnès’ shoulder blades. They would have to move soon, get back to the higher ground so they could continue to the crystal of fire. But just for a moment longer she wanted to stay here, and bask in the warmth that had been rekindled in Agnès’ heart.

Chapter Text

"Yoohoo! Lady Vestal! Are you ready?!"

“P—Praline! Not just… not just yet!”

Despite being fully clothed, Agnès nearly shrieked anyway when Praline took the frantic response as her cue to burst into the changing room. The younger but more experienced performer cast a critical eye over her outfit, virtually identical to her own; Agnès nervously fluffed the skirt, awaiting judgment. “Well it can’t be the clothes keeping you, you look fine. What’s up? We’re on in five!”

Agnès shifted, fighting not to wring her gloved hands. “It’s… we’ll be in front of so many people, and…” She winced, and finally confessed: “The last time I got on a stage in Florem did not go so well.” She’d been harshly booed off for lack of ‘sexy’. While she had tried not to take it to heart then (sexy was not supposed to be the point anyway!), the memory kept returning to her mind now. In a matter of moments, she would be trying to appeal to the people of Florem. What if they just booed her off-stage again?

The blonde frowned, putting her hands—one held her microphone, ever at the ready—to her hips. “Lady Agnès, you’re a professional! And professionals don’t let one bad experience get them down.” Agnès wondered if perhaps the former asterisk bearer was choosing to overlook how she’d responded to losing for the first time, though in all honesty she was glad the girl had run off rather than pursued a fight, possibly to the death. Praline was working to do so much good now, even with this concert. This…concert…that was about to start, and that she was supposed to sing in…what had she been thinking, agreeing to that request? Agnès groaned and buried her face in her hands, prompting the teenager to rush in with reassurance. “You’ve been practicing, and with the help of the asterisk, you nearly sound and look as good as me!”

Agnès had had enough exposure to Praline’s attitude in various worlds to know that likely hadn’t been a backhanded insult at her singing or appearance, just the girl’s cheerful frankness and self-assurance. She still glanced down at her outfit again to make sure everything was in place. “I—I’m not a professional singer, Praline.”

The girl frowned and pouted. “You’re not helping the Rebuild Florem effort as the vestal?”

“…I am…”

“Then you’re doing this as a professional!”

“…You’re right.” It was important she do this as the vestal. The concert was to raise awareness of the desperate situation in which the Bloodrose Legion had left Florem’s sacred wildlife, and ask people to commit themselves to fixing it—not to mention raise funds for the work. If they did, in turn it would, hopefully, help bind the new lifestyle of the younger daughters of Florem back to the older population that had remained traditional by showing they didn’t have to clash. The desire to be fashionaaabluh was not inherently sinful. She had been approached to give the concert her backing in some manner to assuage the Matriarch’s fears about even allowing such a flashy event to occur… and, somewhere along the line, that had escalated into Praline deciding she wanted a partner on stage, and the concert becoming even more highly anticipated as not just Praline a la Mode’s comeback, but the debut of the Wind Vestal. As if she would ever make a career of this! But if it helped improve the situation in Florem…

It still seemed mad that she was about to sing in front of hundreds, possibly thousands of people, but at least Agnès could remember why it was supposed to be a good thing. Besides, she had faced the end of worlds. This was not quite as terrifying. She nodded to Praline. “You are right,” she repeated.

“Of course!” Praline twirled her pink mic with a smile. “Take a deep breath, and just remember: you’ve got a whole ton of fans out there already! They’re going to be shouting for you! My fans might drown them out though, sorry.”

The giggle that burst out of Agnès might have been a nervous one, but it took some of the tension out of her; her shoulders eased as she looked up at Praline with a smile in return. “Yours do go wild.”

“Diva Praline, Lady Agnès! One more minute!” a woman’s voice called.

“Coming~!” Praline gaily sang out. Agnès quickly picked up her silver mic and followed the songstress to the excited cheers of the wide crowd of mostly women spread out in front of their neon-lit stage… and a more mixed crowd in the air. Agnès stared at Grandship and the line of people of different nationalities spread out along its railing—the attendance was certainly in the thousands now!—and then caught a flash of motion that had to be Ringabel waving cheekily from the helm. She’d known nothing of this! She hadn’t even told him about the concert! Why was he here, and with so many passengers?

Oh, Crystals, she hoped all those people were here for Praline, not her. But she knew Ringabel at least would have come for her…and that made her feel a little better.

In contrast to Agnès’ mixed feelings, Praline was immediately delighted, bringing her microphone up to amplify her voice and reach them. “Wow, do I spy some Eternians and Caldislans up there? You all must have come a long way for this! Thank you for the support. I just know we’ll have a great show tonight!” She waved with a flourish, and then turned her attention back toward the intended audience: the women of Florem. “Girls! You know, when they first asked me to come back on stage, I told them, ‘No way! I quit!’ But I’m here tonight for a very important reason… one that’s too important for ANY of us to ignore…”

As the Florem native gave her opening comments, Agnès focused on keeping a bright smile on her face and evening her breathing. No one was booing for her to get offstage like at the flower festival, and she tried to think of it as something like the crystal awakening rite: instead of drawing out a crystal’s energy, she would draw out that of the crowd’s. They weren’t booing. They wanted to see her shine, and she would, for them. For Florem, the land Olivia had loved so much. At the cue, she stepped forward to meet Praline’s side, raising her own mic to speak. “Everyone! I have the highest hopes for Florem. This has long been a country of beauty. You can make the flowers radiant again!”

The band struck up the first melody: an updated, upbeat version of a folk song, and Agnès and Praline posed in mirror positions. And then, together, they sang.

Chapter Text

"Einheria wrong," Artemia declared flatly.  "No understand carbuncle.  Carbuncle soft, round.  Cuter!  Carbuncle’s strength, hidden."

Einheria frowned and pushed her slender reading glasses back more securely on her nose as she leaned over her half-woven charm, trying to discern where she had gone wrong; Mephilia giggled as she leaned against the oldest sister’s arm for a look of her own.  ”He is seeming rather pointed, Einheria.  Almost vicious.  You’re always looking for where a creature keeps its spears, aren’t you?”

"My fingers simply aren’t as nimble as Artemia’s," Einheria muttered, and for all her frustration, she didn’t miss how a grin flashed across her baby sister’s face.  Artemia was very proud of her charm-making, something Einheria wished she had realized much sooner.  Years ago, when Artemia had first begun making likenesses of Frostis after being recovered from the wilderness, the eldest Venus sister had been afraid it meant she was thinking of running back to the woods and had confiscated the charms and materials.  But as much as Artemia loved the Frosti, and despite how reticent she had become around most people, she had never wanted to abandon her sisters, even after they had accidentally abandoned her.  The charms were just her way of remembering the creatures who had saved her from total loneliness—and they had actually led to Artemia socializing slightly more than she would have otherwise, as she had been hawking them to traders to be sold as a small side-business, a fact Einheria had learned only recently.

Einheria was learning a lot of new things about her sisters, after Florem.  If that hellish assignment had done any good, it was in showing her that she could not blindly follow orders.  Nor could she protect her sisters by simply commanding them without knowing their needs, their desires.  How they behaved when happy, and how they showed their pain.  She had very nearly missed realizing the true extent of the pain Mephilia had been suffering in her task of exterminating flories…

Drifting into this sort of thought as she reworked the charm beads, Einheria actually missed the pointed stare Artemia was directing by her head to Mephilia, until the young girl declared, “Mephilia not even try!”

For all that Mephilia had been revered as a prodigy far beyond her years, she tittered rather childishly as she held up her own… carbuncle?  Einheria looked up, squinted through her glasses and then tilted her head to look over them, wondering if she was missing something that would make the mess of beads resolve into a discernible pattern.  But she would have to agree with Artemia: Mephilia had not even attempted to create a carbuncle.  The shapeless form was proof of that, even if it was arrayed in a somewhat interesting pattern of colors.

"Dear sisters, were neither of you aware how clumsy I am with my fingers?" the middle child asked, idly picking at the jewelry and adding more beads.  "You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if I had tried.”

"Mephilia," Einheria said, frowning.  Whether or not they succeeded in Artemia’s craft was not the issue here.  This was supposed to be a bonding time.  ’Bonding’ would hardly be accomplished by making light of their baby sister’s interests.

Fortunately Mephilia did seem to understand that, meeting Artemia’s sullen glare with a soft smile, a rare sight when it reached even her lavender eyes.  ”I do appreciate the skill you put into these, Artemia,” she said.  ”Perhaps I could pick up the colors you need for ratatoskrs tomorrow?”

"…Artemia would appreciate," the girl said with a nod.  "Working together, good girl power."  ’Girl power’ seemed to have become her favorite phrase since Victoria, of all people, had organized that club.

"Cooperation is a great sisterly power as well," Mephilia murmured.  "Why, I do believe Einheria’s got the idea of a carbuncle now."

"Slightly," Einheria muttered, trying to focus on indeed making the carbuncle form look rounder and…’cuter’.  But her focus didn’t stop her from flushing when Artemia gasped appreciatively.

"Oh… Yes, better!  This much better!  Sister do have some girl power!”

Chapter Text

Edea hasn’t been able to walk about Eternia freely for over a year now, probably two; she thinks briefly of asking Ringabel how long their journey has been now, but then lets it slip from her mind.  That’s a little depressing, and right now she’s so happy.  Her father in this world has seen the strength and conviction she’s developed fighting alongside Agnès and respects that; the only fights between their sides have been battles meant to test and train the wind vestal’s party for facing the True Evil at the end of their journey.  Only that and no more, and she is so, so glad for it.  It’s given her and her friends a chance to not just train their bodies, but set their minds at ease for a little bit and regather their strength that way.  Edea has been taking the chance to stroll through Eternia at her leisure and revisit a number of comforting sights from her childhood; one or two were favorite restaurants, admittedly, but there was also her favorite hill for sledding, the bushes on the outskirts where one could pick cranberries, the library where she had on a number of occasions made Alternis hold her on his lap as she “taught” him how to read.  (Well, she still thought she had been at least a little helpful in that regard: she’d given him plenty of encouragement to learn!  But a five-year-old’s instruction couldn’t bethat good.)

Her actions have been guided by her strong morals, but the strength of those morals comes from love, both for her family and for the beautiful country she grew up in.  So she wants to use this opportunity to revisit those nostalgic memories and bask in their warmth.

Of course, walking down memory lane does tend to distract one from the present.  When a laughing little boy crosses her path, glancing over his shoulder as he runs, she doesn’t think to look at what he’s running from but simply keeps walking, smiling at him happily up to the instant that a very cold, wet snowball hits the back of her head, part of it sliding down into her scarf.

"Ahh!  Cold, cold!"  Though she opens her scarf right away to get as much of the snow out as possible, she already knows it’s not exactly going to keep her warm anymore, not with the big wet spot.  "All right, who threw that?!" she yells, turning about on her heel to spot the culprit.

There’s a whole group of little kids playing in the snow. They range from ages 6 to 10 at a guess, and none of them are exactly eager to meet her eyes.  But her suspicions instantly fall on the one exception to their group: the young man with a red winter coat and messy brown hair that she knows very well, whose shoulders are shaking with quiet laughter as he stays turned away.  Surprise doesn’t stop her from marching on him.

"Tiz Arrior…!"

"I…I’m sorry, Edea," he says, still laughing.  "I didn’t see you coming there—waugh!"  His neck tenses sharply with surprise as she applies two handfuls of snow to the back of it, and she rubs it in as he squirms beneath her.  "Mercy!  Mercy!  Edea, I didn’t get you that bad!"

"Payback is always more severe," she tells him as she lets go and claps the remaining snow off her gloves.  Some of the children are giggling at him now, and she smiles at them with satisfaction before crouching down by her friend.  "What are you doing?  And where’s Agnès?  Is she being a baby again?"

"She stayed longer this time," Tiz protests, still rubbing his neck.  "But yes, she got cold.  Ringabel took her back to Grandship." 

"And you stayed to play with the local kids."

"Yeah," he answers, without a hint of embarrassment.  "They needed an extra person to have even sides for a snowball fight."

Even if he first stayed just to be nice, that broad smile says he’s genuinely enjoying himself.  Edea hums happily as she gathered up a little bit of wet snow between her hands, idly beginning a snowball.  “Well, any chance one more can join in?  Which side should I be on?”

"That would make two grown-ups,” a little blonde with a pink dress and red coat says thoughtfully, glancing at the boy by her side.  “And she looks like the Templar’s daughter.”

"Wait, what’s that got to do with anything?" Edea asks indignantly.  They weren’t wanted here!  That was the whole reason she’d been able to let her guard down here, so close to Central Command!

"Any side you go on would have a really unfair advantage," the boy tells her, frowning.  She frowns back, because—well, he’s probably right.  But she wants to take part too!  "So, you two should be a side on your own."

"…Two on seven?" Tiz questions, dubious.  "I think we just slid the other way on unfairness…"

"What?  We can take them all," Edea declares.  It does seem a little lopsided, but there’s no joy in an easy victory.  "Challenge accepted!"  And then she asks Tiz, in an undertone:  "Can I use Love Rush?"

"Edea, no.  …Maybe.  Look out, here they come!”

Chapter Text

"Daughter,” Braev asked. “What nonsense is this?” For nonsense it was indeed–his two sons, counterparts who seemed still unable to countenance each other, were squared off as if to fight, but it was obvious they had not clashed their drawn blades yet. There had been reports that the guard monsters in the dungeon basement were displaying unusual behaviors, flocking to one particular chamber, and now it was obvious why: both dark knights were making full use of their ability to charm demons, if not outright abusing it. It near seemed like they were organizing a life-size game of chess as each in turn beckoned to a demon, calling it to his side and amassing a growing squad. At the same time, each seemed loath to actually make the first move, perhaps because each knew that as the other was weakened, they would in fact grow stronger. Braev’s instinct was to cast rampart on all and break up this foolishness before it could result in bloodshed, yet Edea’s presence gave him pause: she was clad in Templar armor, seemingly ready to do the same… but not quite yet. She was content to let the blinkered men not notice her for a little while longer.

“Ringabel’s sort of nonsense,” she sighed, her voice lowered. “I was hoping Alternis might catch on. This is going to be so embarrassing for him. …You may not want to be witness to this, Father. Alternis would not want you to witness this.”

“If I were concerned about a humbling defeat,” Braev muttered, “I should be concerned for the one who has forgotten his experience as a dark knight.” The dark knights were near-identical in their armored appearance, but could still be distinguished by their differing blades and small changes in stance…and the differences in their tactics were glaring. His otherworldly son may have charmed the same number of demons, but their types were rather one-sided: overwhelmingly feminine, and of the species that loved to seduce its victims rather than smash them outright. Alternis had gathered a couple of those as well, but they simply balanced out the smashers on his side, hulking archdemons that were already flexing their brawny arms in anticipation. Physical blows being more reliable than charms, Braev felt the odds were rather in Alternis’ favor.

Edea simply shook her head before look up at him. “Father, you think this is about strategy? Ringabel can’t strategize against a monkey in flower chess. This is about–oh, he’s doing it. I knew it,” she exclaimed as the older dark knight unexpectedly unlatched his helmet, grinning fiercely at his counterpart as he braved three times. Braev found himself stumped. An all-out attack? Why would a dark knight remove one of his strongest points of defense–and what in the worlds was the boy doing with a microphone suddenly in his hands?

It was shamefully belatedly that he remembered his daughter and this son had mastered several asterisks, not only one, and realized the trick at play. Ringabel had allowed Alternis to become focused on the strategy of organizing his horde, but Ringabel’s gambit depended on only numbers alone.

“Ladies!” Ringabel cried out. “When I sing–!”

“Kyaaa…!!”

…The Liliths on his side were certainly already going wild. Braev fought the urge to bury his face in his hands; he had to stay vigilant and keep this fight from going too far, readying himself even as his son brazenly belted out chords for spells: Love Rush, Love Rush, and of course… My Hero. The heady combination of speed boosts drove the she-devils into a veritable frenzy as they charged Alternis, and when Edea failed to move, Braev strode forward with a hasty rampart that covered every living being in the room. “ENOUGH!”

There was one further thing he had not realized, however, which was that Ringabel had not set the Liliths to attack.

Perhaps one charm might have failed to capture Alternis, or even two or three. When it was very close to a dozen all at once, it not only ensnared the dark knight but effectively broke his command on the demons, causing them to disperse in disinterest: they were trained well enough to know not to attack a member of the army unless given explicit orders. This left Ringabel’s Liliths free to pull Alternis to the ground, a couple working his helmet off as they cooed to him, two others sliding their hands between armored pieces to feel him through the bodysuit as their tails wrapped around his thighs, together using their enchantments to work the young man into a red-faced, blubbering mess of excited embarrassment.

Braev’s face flared as he jerked his eyes away from Alternis–Edea had been too right, he would not want a defeat like this witnessed–and set his glare on Ringabel, who was now rather pale. “L…Lord Marshal.”

“Ringabel!” Edea shouted. “Think you’ve made your point? Call them off, already!”

The man nearly jumped out of his skin at realizing there was a second witness. “I was going to!” he yelped. “Ladies, we’re done!”

The demons sounded disappointed as they arose and drifted out, leaving Alternis behind. Judging from the groan he gave, the boy was still disoriented from the charms, and Braev focused on Ringabel for the moment to give Alternis the opportunity to gather his wits. Though he, too, would need to be addressed about this matter. “If you two are picking needless fights,” he said in a tone he considered even enough, “perhaps you do not have enough meaningful tasks.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand. This map of Florem is so strange,” Edea said, leaning over Einheria’s arm as she peered at the map spread out on the desk. “What are these curving circles for? They’re where the mountains should be, I think.”

“Have you not seen a topographical map, Edea?" Just what were they teaching her in the academy?

"N, no? Maybe? The geography professor puts me straight to sleep,” the young girl admitted, shifting back and forth on her feet with a guilty look.

Einheria gave a silent sigh. At least she had the baby bird’s attention to teach her now. ”Topographical maps are essential for understanding Eternia’s geography especially. I have two such maps for our country in the top drawer; I want you to give both a look.” The girl immediately stepped back to pull open the drawer. “…But you are correct; the circles draw tighter where Florem’s mountains are. There’s a reason for that.”

“They’re showing the mountains… but they were in other places too. So they’re showing elevations,” Edea reasoned after another look at the map, with a hopeful glance at Einheria to see if she would confirm the conjecture. “The tighter the lines, the higher that land is?” The valkyrie nodded and the girl beamed brightly before turning her attention back to the drawer. “You have so many maps in here. Which ones are they?”

All the maps were rolled up, but Einheria had them organized by a regional order fixed in her mind; even if they were to get mixed up somehow, she would know which were which by their backs and edges, such was the number of times she had looked over them. The collection was a precious thing to her, having been started by her father, a cartographer himself. She pointed the two out, and Edea took them out carefully before kneeling on the floor and opening both to compare. For the moment, Einheria returned her attention to the map of Florem, frowning slightly. As useful as topographical maps were, they were not the kind she wanted at the moment… She was certain this map was missing the information she desired. She pushed her narrow reading glasses back up on her face, looking further. Just in case.

"I understand,” Edea said aloud, breaking into the woman’s frustrated thoughts. “This one is only 15 years old, and this one 50, but they’re so different. That’s because the mountains had risen again, isn’t it? It still seems strange to put so much effort in making a map like this, though. When I look at a map, I want to know how to get from one town to another, not how bumpy the road is along the way. As long as there’s a compass rose to show north, I’ll be good to go!”

Einheria had to shake her head at that. The girl was young, yes, but she also simply wasn’t inclined toward the more academic pursuits—though admittedly, Einheria’s own strengths there did not extend far past cartography and, on rare occasion, curling up with a bit of poetry. “Maps are not simply for directions, Edea. They are able to communicate vital information on a region at a glance.”

“…Why have you been looking so long at that one, then?”

Einheria sighed. Trust a teenager to pick up on that. “Because my new commanding officer borrowed another map I have of the region. I was… just curious. I don’t understand what drew DeRosa’s interest, so I’ve been trying to jog my memory of Florem with this one. It’s no use, though. It’s vital information, all right, just not the kind most relevant at the moment.”

“So the other one was a different kind?” Edea asked curiously.

“Ah… it was a map showing the various sources of poison people needed to avoid. The natives of Florem may worship their nature as ‘beautiful’, but I’m mostly convinced they worship to keep it from killing them all." The miasma woods filled with toxin, the giant orochi with fangs loaded with venom, the flowers that could silence, the fairies who were playful in life but caused utter mayhem when their wings were torn from them…she hadn’t set foot in the region yet, but she already detested it. "So many things to avoid, but when he asked to borrow it he said it showed something that might prove useful. But I can’t… think of the practical application. None of these would be easy to harvest. Besides, poison is hardly honorable—”

“Hardly?! It isn’t at all!" Edea declared. "But… he is a commander serving directly under Father and the Council, so he must have his reasons. Perhaps there’s something on the map you forgot, Einheria." She nodded to herself. "Yes, that’s probably it. Besides, you’ll know what his idea was anyway once he’s formed a plan of attack. Why worry about it now when we could fit another sparring match in? Please? I want to learn everything I can from you before you go!”

Einheria gave the map one last stare before slipping off her reading glasses and leaning over the desk to roll the map. Her sister-disciple did have a point: she was doing nothing useful here. “Prepare yourself,” she said, causing Edea to squeal in delighted joy before she bounded off to get her practice katana. The valkyrie followed at a more sedate pace, easing her chair back under the desk as she went to retrieve a blunt weapon herself. She would figure out why Fiore DeRosa’s sudden interest in the map had given her such a bad feeling later.

Chapter Text

They only get one room in Eternia, because that’s all the innkeeper thinks two boys traveling together should need and Tiz and Ringabel can’t think of a smooth enough excuse for why they need an extra on the spot: the shepherd has never learned to lie smoothly, and after he tries anyway, Ringabel is too busy laughing off the sudden awkwardness and explaining that his friend was ‘just joking’ to worry about the room arrangements further.

“Please leave the alibis to me in the future,” he mutters as they walk away from the desk, leaving the befuddled innkeeper to shrug and help the travellers behind them.  "Where were you even going with that family reunion notion?  We look nothing alike.“

”…We could have been adopted?“ Tiz offers weakly.

“That really isn’t very convincing.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  I messed up, we can’t share one room with all four of us.”

Ringabel reaches out to ruffles Tiz’s hair; it won’t do to have the shepherd fretting when really the problem is simply that he’s too honest for the rare occasions that they need subterfuge.  After seeing looks of recognition from some of the nurses in the Central Healing Tower over the daughter of one of their most familiar patients, they’ve been trying to keep both Edea’s and Agnès’ visibility as low as possible.  Their attempt at booking rooms for four under only two names might have gone awry, but it was better than handing the vestal and ‘traitor’ to the duchy on a golden platter if they had the thought to try arresting them in the dead of night.  "Please.  I’m sure the girls will understand, provided you explain that this was no fault of mine.  Besides, it’s simple enough to divide the beds between the sexes.“

Except for one problem with the room they’ve been given.

"What a big bed.  Where is the other one?” Agnès asks very innocently, after she and Edea have been snuck inside, past the innkeeper’s and other guests’ eyes.  "There are usually two, are there not?“

"Usually,” Ringabel says wearily, as the vestal continues to look around, as though the second bed has only somehow managed to hide itself.  Edea catches on much faster, her blue eyes flashing as she whirls about on him.  He’s already raising his hands in surrender.

“Ringabel…!”

“Edea, it really was my fault!” Tiz interjects.  "Anyway, there’s nothing to worry about.  We’ve already discussed it.  You two can share the bed, we’ll be fine on the floor.“  They’ve already arranged their spare clothes and blankets in a loose idea of bedding on the floor, and he gestures to the pile.

She glances at it.  And doubletakes.  "You two are idiots,” she says, not angrily, but with a heartfelt sincerity all the same.  "Why can’t you just get another room?!“

"Because the group behind us got the last room,” Ringabel explains.  "That’s why the innkeeper was reluctant to give us two in the first place.“

Edea looks at them, and then at Agnès, who is eyeing the makeshift beds with a little concern.  "Agnès?  We need to talk about this.”

The girls head to the corner furthest from the door, and Edea makes it clear with a look that boys are not welcome to eavesdrop, leaving Tiz and Ringabel standing at the door, feeling like…well.

Like idiots.  Edea is very apt with her descriptions; she always goes for simple, blunt and true.

Tiz fidgets as the separate conversation closes in on three minutes running, to which Ringabel responds, “Yes, they are discussing our fates, in case you were wondering.”  Not that he can hear any of the conversation himself, but he’s certain with how furrowed Agnès’ brow is that they’re discussing something along those lines.  And then, because he is feeling just a bit petty at this point, now that he has two ladies’ ire undeserved and a floor for his bed tonight: “'Family reunion’.”

“I'm sorry, Ringabel.”  Tiz is very good at sounding penitent.  No doubt because he actually is.

“Okay,” Edea says as she and Agnès break apart.  "You two, get your blankets on the bed.  I’m not thrilled about the idea of cramming us all in there, but it’d just be cruel to make you sleep on the floor.  Do you have any idea how cold it gets at night here?“

"I’m–I’m certain we could manage it,” Ringabel stammers.  Out of the possible decisions he’d expected Edea and Agnès to come to, letting him into their shared bed was not one.  But even Agnès looks settled on this–a little nervous herself, but she’s meeting their eyes.

“All right, I know monks and masochists can manage it, but I really don’t want to know which one you are,” Edea says wearily.  "We’re sharing tonight, there better not be any funny business, and since you two seem to think the cold’s no big deal, you can be on the outside of the bed and keep us warm.“

Tiz looks prepared to heat the entire room on his own with how red he’s gotten, but Ringabel’s not certain he can say anything when he can feel the fire in his own face.  "If you insist.”

“We do,” Agnès says, finally speaking up again.  "I do not see how anyone could stand this cold without proper coverings.  Though… your night-clothes will cover you as well, I hope.“

The women truly are serious about this, if Agnès is being concerned for their level of modesty.  "Of course they do!” Tiz answers, too quickly and too loudly.  His preferred attire in Eisenberg was boxers only, but Ringabel won’t be surprised if he spends this night fully-clothed out of panic.

The younger man does manage to find proper pajamas in his bag when night falls, at least, and he and Ringabel both cautiously edge into the bed.  Agnès and Edea are nicely cuddled up together–Agnès says it is merely to make room for the additional company, but Edea looks very comfortable indeed with her head snuggled by the other girl’s chest and shoulder.  The Eternian gives Ringabel on her other side a cautious look, but then softens into a small smile when she sees he truly is behaving himself, even keeping well to the edge of the bed.

Ringabel grins back, because he’s trying very hard not to let on that he’s about a strong breath away from falling off the bed and yet paralyzed at the thought of creeping even a centimeter closer to Edea.  She would probably allow him to come just a little closer, and yet it seems too precarious an arrangement to take any risk whatsoever.  He’d rather risk a fall on the floor during the night than a fall from her good graces.  Tiz seems to feel a little of that anxiety himself, shifting a few times where he lies on the other side of Agnès before the restlessness in itself flusters her.  She places a hand on his arm, stilling him instantly, and he murmurs an apology before finally settling on his back.

Ringabel is fairly certain the warmth under the sheets is mostly the warmth of a shared embarrassment, but it does the trick of fending off the chill in the Eternian air, and eventually they all grow comfortable enough: Edea is the first one to fall asleep, then surprisingly Tiz.  Agnès is quickly lulled by the calm breathing on either side of her, and with all other three asleep, Ringabel finally manages to convince himself to take that inch forward for a more stable position.  His eyes slide shut one last time not long after.

Chapter Text

“They are… expecting us to dance,” Agnès said miserably.

Tiz laughed sheepishly as he ladled drink for both him and her.  “It’s…it’s really starting to look like that,” he agreed.  “This is the third time they’ve paired us off.”

“I almost think they are taking advantage of the fact that we do not know Eternian customs,” she continued, starting to frown.  “I have not noticed anyone else getting repeatedly matched like us.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Unacceptable!  …Ah, thank you,” Agnès murmured as she took her cup back from him.  She sipped slowly; Tiz took a quick swallow.  They surveyed the dance floor again.

”You know, though, this might be for our benefit.  That we’re being partnered with each other, I mean.”  Tiz rubbed the back of his head before glancing at Agnès.  “I mean, if I was partnered with anyone else—I’m not sure I’d know what to do.  At least we’re comfortable with each other, and we know we both don’t want to dance.”

Agnès pursed her lips, running a gloved hand over the pale green satin of her dress.  Extravagant as it was, Edea had insisted she have this dress for this occasion.  Now it seemed like a waste not to put it to its full use.  “It…is not that I hate the idea of dancing,” she said, meeting Tiz’s eyes.  The music for the occasion was, thankfully, not fast-paced and rowdy like the performer’s repertoire—she’d probably have already gotten a headache—but slow, almost sedate, and rather pleasing.  “But I do not know how.  Dancing hardly has any place in a vestal’s life.”

“Are you saying you’d like to try, Agnès?”

It was so tempting to say yes, but… she bit her lip.  “I don’t think I could, with so many people here.”

“Don’t worry about them.  They’re all distracted dancing with each other,” Tiz told her.  “Besides, I’d be learning right alongside with you.  Norende dances were a very different style from this.”

Of course, she didn’t think she would be comfortable trying to dance with any one other than Tiz.  Well, she trusted Ringabel enough, but he was busy wooing, and would not be her first choice anyway.  Tiz looked…very pleasing, the gold and cream accents making his suit very handsome on him.  Though he did look a little odd with his hair flattened down as it was—he’d complained of Ringabel attacking it with comb and gel.  But it wasn’t bad, as he seemed to think.  Yes, if she was going to dance with anyone, it would be Tiz.  “Are you sure it’s all right?” she asked him.

He smiled warmly.  “If it’s with you, Agnès, I’ll be just fine.”

They set their drinks down and made their way hand-in-hand to a corner of the ballroom, wanting to make sure they’d have some measure of privacy.  Agnès was grateful for the acoustics of the grand room: the music was hardly diminished as Tiz took one of her hands with his own, his other hand hovering about uncertainly at her waist before she used her free hand to make him rest it there.  Both their faces warmed, but she knew it was simply part of the dancing form, nothing inappropriate about it, and with a small clearing of her throat she left his hand there and put hers on his shoulder, and they began.

She was so very, very glad they had hidden themselves away in the corner.  She was somewhat slow in her hesitation, and though he tried to slow down out of consideration, she would guess that the dancing style of Norende had been a faster one than this—every once in a while he would jolt into a quick step, and she in response would panic and stumble.  She trodded on his feet what seemed like a dozen times, and winced hard the one time he tripped up on her in return, which nearly made him quit.  She convinced him to stay, but their coordination did not immediately improve.

“It’s as if one needs an asterisk to learn this,” she said with some frustration.

“Maybe we should ask if anyone has one,” Tiz said lightly, shaking his head.  “Just a little longer until this song ends, I think.  That’s probably a good time to stop.  We won’t worry about getting the steps right.”

When she asked what he meant, he stopped leading her in the dance and gently pulled her closer.  Rather than taking a step forward, he just… swayed, moving his feet a little but with no real direction like before.  One might have expect the lack of direction to make things even worse, but Agnès found that it was easier to not have to worry about which direction came next in the dance pattern and instead just muddle about with her friend.  He usually guided her where she was going, and when they accidentally stepped apart, it was easy for them to find each other and come together again.  Much like how he’d kept her on track toward her destinations during their journey, really.  But she didn’t have that much time to think that comparison further; soon enough, the music stopped, the couples relaxed, and Tiz and Agnès retreated to the refreshments table, eager to catch a break and let themselves be wallflowers again.

Chapter Text

It should have been snowing.  This was Eternia.  It was winter for nearly the entire year.  It should have been snowing.  Instead it was raining, and even those droplets were quickly swallowed up by the unnatural fire raging through the town.  The conflagration had impressed even Ominas Crowe with how fiercely it blazed, ignoring the dampness of the ground to leap from house to house, hungry and all-consuming.

Ominas Crowe was fallen now.  So was White Mage Holly Whyte.  Barras Lehr had followed her not long after in an explosive rampage that had surprised no one except the foreign arsonist–if only for a split-second.  Then he had slashed the monk’s chest open with a flurry of strokes from the longest katana Edea had ever seen.

Twelve hours ago, there had been an unusual meteor shower.  Then an angel of wrath had appeared, claiming the shower was in fact the fragments of a world he’d already destroyed and used as a vessel in his search for a new world to hollow out.  Claiming that he was a god, and that there was no way they could stand against him.

Her father, the templar, had told him he was not the first world-devouring god to visit Luxendarc.  Despite the obvious differences in strength, he’d held the one-winged angel back while asterisk bearers were summoned at breakneck speed.

He’d…

He’d…

Kamiizumi was in command now.  Edea was keeping Alternis from a suicide charge by staying at his side, reminding him there was still a Lee to protect.  She was holding herself back by reminding herself that Mother had been evacuated and would need her children after this nightmare.  And her friends elsewhere in Luxendarc were counting on her, even if they did not know it yet.  The Duchy’s forces still had a chance of victory.  Kamiizumi had found a way to disguise star diva Praline a la Mode’s location with echoes; not even Edea could figure out which direction her empowering vocals were coming from.  Edea herself was using the Vampire asterisk to leach the fallen angel’s ungodly strength from him, giving Alternis and Kikyo, Heinkel and Ciggma Khint more of a fighting chance against him.  They had already struck some blows, even if she found herself having to cast a healing white wind frighteningly often.  They were going to win.  They had to.

But this was a winter storm she would never forget.

Chapter Text

“Hm.”

Just that.  A flat hum, with the surprise already fading and no curious questions following it.  Not for the first time was Alternis glad for the cover of his helm.  It hid that his mouth had fallen open, and that his cheeks were prickling with a twinge of heated embarrassment, with the shadow of upset not far behind.  “Strange,” he said, measuring his words.  “I’d thought you might share some measure of interest.”

“I’m sorry.  Of course it’s a happy thing.  One’s origins are important, and at last, there’s a chance yours weren’t quite as dark as previously thought.”

”Our origins.”

Ringabel frowned and carded his fingers through his pompadour.  Wandering from his desk where a now-forgotten and incomplete report lay to the window where snow fell outside, he seemed to at least be considering his response.  Thankfully—Alternis already knew he wouldn’t contain himself if his counterpart treated the discovery he’d made as some simple joke, a folly of fate.  Defenestration would be too great a temptation.  “I suppose that’s part of the difference between us.  I just don’t… feel attached to that anymore, the question of my biological family.  My mother was irresponsible, she abandoned me—”

“But she did not,” Alternis burst out.  “The grave in that village said Liana Dim.  And the letter I discovered in that house proves she had sent us away from our protection!"  She and her husband—his father—had spent nearly all their money to get him smuggled out of their village to a place away from the Great Plague when the roads were closed by the Orthodoxy.  Things had gone awry, obviously, they hadn’t been able to control what befell him after their deaths, but they had sent him afar with the best of intentions.  So that he might live.

"She loved us.  We were born of loving parents, not a whore and a drunk, as the good people of Florem liked to remind us,” Ringabel concluded.  It was always a little strange for Alternis to hear the note of sarcasm in the other man’s voice, because it was such a weak thing, mostly buried under his cheerfulness and patience.  But still there, that bite.  They had known their entire childhood that they were born of ‘bad blood’; they hadn’t been able to escape the sneered reminders.  “I do remember.  I used to want to learn something like this so badly.  Preferably with them still alive, but just to know I had been wanted at some point… it was a very strong wish, even after the Lees took me in.  Us in.”

Alternis’ tongue felt thick in his mouth now.  He had reported the results of the reason he was sent out to that desolated village to Braev already—before the Plague had struck and wiped out the population, there had been legends of a stone like an asterisk in that local region, and though Yulyana did not recall giving one to any inhabitants in the vicinity, it could have very easily been from another part of the world and ended up there by some quirk of destiny over the years.  Just as destiny had taken him far from Eternia, and then returned him to it, Alternis supposed.  The asterisk had been found in another house, and he had delivered it directly to Braev’s possession.  And then dithered over saying anything of the graves he had found, the letters he had read describing the arrangements for him to be smuggled out and cared for abroad.  He hadn’t been able to bring himself to say anything for the same reason he had never expressed the wish Ringabel spoke of to any other soul.  When he had been taken in by the charity of one family, how ungrateful would it be to wish for another?  When he was blessed by the kindness of the Lees, how selfish must he be to want the love of his family?

Was it right for it to be so important to him?  Possibly not.  But it was, and so he had sought out the one person he’d thought would share that joy without reservation.  Talking to Ringabel had taken priority over writing everything in his journal, though now he felt unsure if that had been the best course of action.  He should have found the words to frame his feelings first; they were too raw for him to also endure Ringabel treating this as a matter apart from him.  His eyes were prickling again, and he had already cried too many times in the past days out of overwhelming relief, belated joy, and a newfound sense of loss.  Even if Ringabel couldn’t see under his helm, it would only embarrass him further.  “Now you know,” he said roughly.  “I’ll leave you.”

“Would you stay?”

“For what?"  Alternis asked, though he did at least pause, trying to keep civility.

Ringabel scoffed.  “So I’ll not be the only fool bawling here,” he said with a little laugh, and turned halfway to Alternis, showing the beginning of tears in his eyes.  Revealing his own state seemed to embarrass the normally brash man; he quickly glanced away and lifted a fist in front of his pursed lips as he reasoned, “I know.  I know one’s origins should not truly be as important as we believed.  The different Airies are proof of that.  If one sister could be an agent for good despite coming from such a wicked creator, how could it matter how virtuous our parents were?  We are who we are, regardless of them.”

"But we were loved."  And seeing the same emotions he’d felt playing out on Ringabel’s face reassured Alternis.  Perhaps his feelings about the matter were illogical, but they were not wrong.  Not warped and twisted.  The matter of his parents’ true identities wasn’t important because it would change his present life or identity; it didn’t change a whit.  It simply was, because he’d held it so dearly in his heart.

Ringabel’s bottom lip trembled, and he waved his hand in embarrassed irritation.  “Now I know you are crying, and you are being entirely unfair.  Lock the door and take off your helm, Alternis.”

"I’m not crying."  But the dark knight did check the lock on the door before walking further into the room, taking the chair at Ringabel’s desk.  It would likely be some time before they left each other alone tonight.

Chapter Text

“We’ll all look out for him.”

Ringabel had meant that. If everyone watched out for Egil, the boy wouldn’t come to any harm, and Tiz wouldn’t do anything rash. It was obvious Tiz was ready to do something foolish; his outburst when he’d discovered that Egil had followed them had laid bare just how emotional the boy could make him, and when Ringabel wasn’t watching Egil, he was watching Tiz and noting all the little signs. How closely Tiz watched Egil, with seemingly eyes for no one else for the time being, even Agnès; how tightly the young man’s fists were closed. Yes, if Egil came to danger, Tiz would surely throw himself headlong into the peril as well, but Egil wouldn’t, because they were all caring for him.

…But there was nothing they could do about tremors. The earth started to shake beneath them, and they all ran to cross the narrow path bridging over the lava; but Egil, still a boy, was naturally slower. Ringabel realized the moment the boy cried out that he had made a mistake–he should have stayed closer to both Tiz and Egil–because now, even as he turned, a chain reaction was already unfolding.

“EGIL!”

“Oh no!”

“I’ll get him!” Ringabel told Tiz as he bolted past, because his friend needed to slow down for just one second, to listen, to think, but Tiz was already gone. The column of earth Egil was clinging onto lurched heavily to one side under the increased lava flow, and Ringabel could see, even as he ran to catch up with Tiz and reach Egil: they would never make it in time. No matter how quickly they ran.

One after another, Egil’s fingers came loose from the pillar, and he fell.

And Tiz, as he leapt to the leaning pillar, let himself fall too.

Ringabel’s heart lept into his throat as the younger man threw himself down the newly created slope feet first, letting momentum and gravity aid him in his desperate attempt to catch Egil. Only at the very last instant, as his legs were already off the edge, did Tiz claw at the rock with one hand to find something to hold onto, even as his other hand was still reaching out toward Egil. And his madness worked. In that Tiz caught up to Egil, not that he came to a stop. It worked in that Tiz disappeared from sight only a second after Egil had, and Ringabel thought that was surely the end, they had both fallen in the lava, they were both dying and in excruciating pain because lava ate people quickly but not quickly enough to prevent them from feeling–

Ringabel’s legs still carried him to the ledge, and that was a good thing, because in the next second, he realized that brown tuft peeking into sight between earth and lava was Tiz’s hair, somehow, somehow the boy had managed to catch onto the side of the pillar like the lucky idiot he was. He even had a hold of Egil. Ringabel immediately laid himself down on the pillar and grabbed Tiz’s wrist to keep it there, and Edea was only a second behind, gripping their friend’s hand with both of hers.

That was all they could do. Tiz had fallen too far for them to get any leverage or a good enough grip to pull him up. Especially when he had over fifty pounds added on by the boy who was clutching onto his other hand for dear life. Egil’s terrified cries were almost drowned out by the rocks still breaking and falling, but not quite, and Tiz stared at Ringabel, his brown eyes blown wide with fear and adrenaline but his mouth set in a grim line.

Their predicament was devastatingly simple. If Tiz had his other hand free, he could reach up far enough for someone to get a better hold on him, if not climb up himself; but Egil would have to be rescued first, because Tiz would never let go of him. They could possibly save Egil if Tiz threw the boy up, Ringabel knew well that Tiz was strong enough to manage the toss if he had a good grasp; but someone would have to let go of Tiz to catch Egil, and their hold on the shepherd was already so precarious that the force of the toss would undoubtedly cause Tiz to fall.

Tiz was almost certain to die.

Ringabel could tell when the young man reached the same conclusion: the terror didn’t leave his eyes, but his expression still softened as he opened his mouth to say something, most likely something damnably selfless–

Ringabel’s stomach flopped over as the pillar lurched again, this time to the left, and Ringabel lost what little purchase he’d had on Tiz’s wrist. He screamed the shepherd’s name and reached out again, but the lean had knocked Tiz just enough that he was now out of reach, and

“Egil!! Tiz!!!”

That was when Agnès blew past them all.

The vestal’s run caught Ringabel’s attention enough that he looked to her, mostly wanting to know what in blazes she was doing going over there when they needed help here, but then he realized that for once, Agnès’ baffling sense of direction seemed to have an end goal: her mad sprint carried over a second pillar where she turned a sharp right and let herself slide down a third, just as Tiz had, coming back toward them, and when she landed on the fourth pillar, she was nearly directly beneath Tiz and Egil. Nearly, but not quite.

Tiz’s fingers slipped out beneath Edea’s hands, and Ringabel could do nothing but watch in horror with his angel as their friend fell down with Egil. Agnès had braced herself to attempt a catch and was reaching out a hand to him, and Tiz was twisting mid-fall to try to grasp it, but he was too far off to land on the pillar and there was no way the until-recently sheltered vestal was strong enough to catch both his and Egil’s weight, she couldn’t–

Both Ringabel and Edea shrieked quietly when Agnès slammed against the rock, clutching Tiz’s arm with both hands, her arms tense but absolutely holding him there.

And then they were both clambering over the pillars to reach their friends. Even though Agnès was lying spread-eagle and digging against the ground with both her boots, she was lighter than Tiz, and much lighter than the combined weight of Tiz and Egil. Her whole body was shaking with the effort to stay in place. Tiz must have realized that quickly, because Ringabel could hear the selfless spiel start while he was following Edea.

“I’ll toss Egil over to you! Get him out of here!”

“I’m not going to let go!”

“But we could both end up falling…!”

“Un…acceptable…!” Ever stubborn, Agnès, and right now Ringabel had never been more grateful for it. The argument was moot; no one was falling. Edea dived at Agnès just as the girl began to slide forward, and he quickly took the other side.

“Agnès!” Edea cried.

“Tiz!” Agnès had managed to get a better grip on the shepherd, and as they pulled her back from the edge, Tiz and Egil both came up; as soon as Agnès was stable, Ringabel lunged to grab Tiz and haul him to safety too. Egil’s safety never came into question, as Tiz practically had a death grip on the boy. As soon as Tiz could, he held the boy with both arms, hugging Egil close as the boy cried.

“We did it…”

Ringabel felt about close to crying himself from sheer relief. None of them moved for a good minute or so, collapsed in a pile of bodies sweaty from the heat and exertion but still clinging to each other to bask in the knowledge that no one had been lost. They only rose to their feet when Airy started calling to them, her high-pitched voice barely carrying over the lava. There was a moment’s pause as Egil collected himself, wiping away his tears with the vestal’s handkerchief. Then they made their way back to the path slowly, Ringabel and Edea helping the boy climb up the pillars as Tiz and Agnès pulled themselves up after. Though it was troubling to see how sore Tiz and Agnès both were from their feats of strength, Ringabel felt much better once they had put a few more feet as well as stable earth between themselves and the lava. Everyone did. Agnès found the presence of mind to scold Tiz for his recklessness, and Tiz had the cheek to laugh at the mud on her face. Ringabel found himself laughing after a moment too. He’d clearly estimated Agnès all along–she had such skinny arms, but a grip like a vise! Both she and Tiz were quite strong and capable. It had been a narrow scrape, but they had pulled through. He shouldn’t have doubted them.

His good spirits faded a bit when Agnès quietly asked Edea to take a look at her arms and torso. The Eternian nodded immediately, and both girls moved themselves around so that Agnès was faced away from the boys, preserving her modesty as she lifted her shirt up for inspection. Though Ringabel couldn’t see her front, Edea’s concerned clucking and a gasp from Airy made it obvious that the vestal had some bruising from her slam into the ground during her impressive catch. He had a feeling he’d be more distraught than delighted if he happened to glimpse any more than he was meant to, so he turned himself around to Tiz, who undoubtedly needed his own assistance. Ringabel had noticed both shoulders seemed to be giving Tiz some trouble, and opened his mouth to offer a potion.

Except, now that Tiz was satisfied everyone was safe, he was… picking at his fingers. A horrendous habit the boy had, despite Ringabel telling him more than once that a gentleman’s hands should be not just clean, but well-groomed. What distracted Ringabel from scolding Tiz again was the blood at the end of the shepherd’s fingers. His left index and little finger both had broken nails, and the middle finger was missing its nail entirely, a rough oval of liquid red marking where it should have been. Only the ring and thumb fingernails were still intact on his left hand, and what the hell had Tiz done to–?

The last few minutes played out in Ringabel’s mind again, narrowing down to when Tiz had decided to lunge after Egil. The one hand he’d used to try and slow down, scraping against the craggy volcano floor so they wouldn’t simply melt in the lava together. Of course the blood hadn’t been noticeable then, not against the blinding glare of the lava. What if the nail on his ring finger had broken too, would he have been going too fast to catch himself at the end? Had the error for margin been so narrow?

Ringabel didn’t know what was showing on his face when Tiz looked up at him, but the boy did seem to catch something. The shepherd paused, tucked the offending hand behind him again, and started to say, “Ah, it’s not really that bad–”

“You’re an idiot,” Ringabel blurted out before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t believe he’d actually thought Tiz had known what he was doing. His friend had only survived on pure dumb luck. He opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but found himself choking.

He wanted to say Tiz should have been more careful, taken the time to think. That was what he had done…and he would have been too slow to catch Egil. Both Tiz and Agnès, utterly reckless, could so easily have died, but they had done what was necessary. He would have gotten Egil killed by thinking, thinking too much, it should have been fine with all of them looking out for the boy but the situation had slipped away from him so quickly–

Tiz walked up to him and, with his right arm, hugged Ringabel around the shoulders. “I’m sorry. But please don’t be upset. Everyone is fine.”

“I’m. Not upset at all,” Ringabel said, but the hitch in his throat instantly gave away the lie. He was getting too worked up. The danger was over. Everyone was safe now. “I don’t need comfort from a man.”

“Maybe I’m just hugging you so you won’t punch me, then,” Tiz said with a laugh that was a little too easy. “The look on your face, you’re either upset or mad with me. But…” His friend’s voice grew sober. “You can’t say it’s okay for everyone else to take risks and expect me not to do the same.”

Ringabel’s hands were tensed into fists, and there was a brief flitting thought that said Tiz was quite wrong if he thought Ringabel couldn’t punch him like this. His gut was wide open. But considering he didn’t actually want to do that, Ringabel forced himself to take a deep breath and unclench his jaw and fists. “That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” The hug had gone on long enough, and he took a hold of Tiz’s hand to remove it from his shoulder. He needed to get a potion from his bag.

“Well, right back at you,” Tiz said indignantly, but as usual with the shepherd, his frown was brief, and he took the potion with a quiet thanks.

“Uh…” The small sound was from Egil, the boy looking up at Ringabel with uncertainty. “You’re not mad at Tiz, are you? Because it was my fault! If I’d been quicker to get out of the way–”

“Egil, it’s not your fault.” Tiz cut off the young boy in no uncertain terms, and Ringabel had to nod.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I suppose Tiz is right; I did get a little worked up. But all’s well that ends well, hm? I’m glad the both of you are out of the frying pan.” The amnesiac was careful to be as breezy as possible, show the child there truly were no bad feelings. It wouldn’t do any good for Egil to feel guilty about this.

“This was no one’s fault, but Tiz, you should have said something earlier…!” Agnès had noticed the bloody hand now, and stormed past Ringabel with a roll of bandages. The vagrant supposed he could let the matter go now. Tiz would feel scolded enough being clucked over by the vestal. The boy from Norende was already turning shades of red as she grasped for his hand, ignoring his hasty assurances of it being no big deal. Ringabel chuckled and turned to Edea to see what she was making of all the fuss, pleased to see his angel seemed to be sharing his satisfaction with a smug smile on her face.

Now things seemed to be truly resolved, and the group carried on without further mishap. The monster at the crystal gave them some trouble, of course, but after events at the crystals of Wind and Water, they had known to expect trouble, and Egil was hidden away with Airy while they battled Chaugmar. The monster defeated, Agnès was able to awaken the Fire Crystal, and soon Eisenberg would know…if not peace quite yet, a respite from the flooding lava, at least.

Their journey was 3/4s complete. They were doing well in their travels, even if they did not quite know how they were to complete the last stretch and reach Eternia yet. Yet Ringabel’s dreams were uneasy that night, going back to the lava. He dreamed of Tiz racing for Egil, and this time both slipped and fell into the lava. He dreamed of falling into the lava himself, every nerve screaming pain as he sank further and further in, weighed down by armor that was already melding with his burning skin from the heat. He dreamed of Tiz running forward while he stood stock still, observing as Tiz tried to save Egil. Agnès. Edea. Over and over, Tiz tried, and every single time he and the person he was trying to save were wiped out in a smear of bright, blinding red. Lava? Blood? Ringabel didn’t make the distinction, because he was too busy trying to figure out how to change the event. He needed to do something. He needed to move. Except moving would just get himself killed, too, so he stayed still and watched as his companions died over and over and over until his mind was screaming that he ought to just die too–

Ringabel snapped awake, instantly aware of the sweat covering him all over. But Tiz was dozing peacefully right in sight, seeming to be having the soundest sleep the shepherd had ever had on their journey. After getting over the terror, Ringabel nearly felt resentful. It would take months before he understood what the nightmare had been about, but he already felt like he’d gleaned one message from it: Tiz was a wonderful protector, because the boy had absolutely no sense of self-preservation. There must have been a safer way they could have protected Egil through Mount Karka. There must have. The vagrant made a mental note that he needed to be more clever in the future.

The real nightmare was the idea that their fates were entirely out of his control.

Chapter Text

The sage and Lester DeRosso delivered Tiz back healthy, calm, and missing a full fortnight of memory.

Couldn’t risk that he’d remember any of it, they’d said, and besides, besides, the warriors of light were about to go through another Holy Pillar, weren’t they? After the days were reset, Tiz wouldn’t even blink at the calendar being different. In the meantime, Ringabel took care to hide his diary and its recorded days, and Agnès made sure Airy knew that yes, they would awaken the next crystal as soon as possible, so the crystfairy needed to please, please, please not scold them for how long they had been delayed. Not in front of Tiz. And both Ringabel and Agnès, as well as Edea, talked Tiz into a new strategy they wanted to try as a group, where he’d use a completely different asterisk.

They couldn’t risk him remembering the last genome he had absorbed. Couldn’t risk him growing sick again, because that genome had held–not an ability, but an infection. He’d first grown pale and tired, and then irritable all the time, with hunger, he said, even though the Proprietress did not starve anyone. The woman liked to feed people and happily took the crew’s requests even when they were a bit out of her repertoire, like some of Agnès’ vegetarian dishes, or Edea’s sky-high parfaits, or Tiz wanting meat so raw that it had barely felt a flame and bled out on the plate as soon as it was set down. Tiz certainly was not going unfed, but he was famished, and didn’t know why, and neither did the rest of them (though Datz had suggested that perhaps he needed nutrition from something besides the raw meat he seemed to be eating all the time now, and as much as Tiz usually appreciated sensible advice, he most certainly had not appreciated that tidbit). The whole crew had decided to take a few days off to let Tiz recover from whatever illness he had caught, but the respite didn’t seem to do much good. He started to clutch at his belly as if feeling hunger pangs, even just after he’d eaten, and the fatigue was getting so bad that he would zone out and stare at people fixedly. The one time Ringabel had caught that gaze boring down on himself, he could have sworn Tiz wasn’t even blinking. It took his name being called for Tiz to snap out of it, and even then he’d act strangely, cradling his head. Agnès had worried he was having a migraine like Ringabel sometimes did, but Tiz insisted that he was fine, he needed no healing–he pleaded to be left alone, without anyone hovering around him. That had lasted a little less than two days before Tiz had simply up and vanished.

They’d found him in Grandship’s engine room, tearing apart his own arm with his teeth. Edea, Agnès, and Ringabel had all screamed, but Tiz only looked at them with an empty smile, blood dripping down his chin. He knew what he needed now, he told them. The hunger was–not gone, not at all, it was tearing him apart inside, but it was a little better, now that he knew what to give it. It wanted blood, and he’d give it all of his, and then…and then…it wouldn’t be able to bother him anymore, because he’d be gone, probably.

Probably.

Maybe he would be something else, instead. As long as he wasn’t hungry.

Agnès had been in tears, begging Tiz to stop hurting himself, that she was sure there must be a better solution they could find together. Tiz stared at her with that eerie, unblinking gaze for a moment before admitting there was something she could do for him.

She could step forward. She could come to him.

Agnès took a deep, shuddering breath, stuck still in place, before he asked again, more firmly the second time. Then, she took one slow step forward. Another. Intellectually, Ringabel could put together that Agnès might have been charmed, the vampire asterisk held that ability, but it wasn’t conceivable that Tiz would charm Agnès. Not like that. He just wouldn’t.

It had been Edea who bypassed reasoning and sentiment and focused solely on the fact that Tiz was very obviously not in his right mind to have drank his own blood. She yanked Agnès back, shoving the charmed girl into Ringabel’s arms, and before Tiz could say a word to her the Eternian pulled her fist back and drove it hard across his face. She knocked Tiz out and then used his own belt to bind his wrists together, tying his arms tight around his back to restrain him whenever he might wake up again. Only after accomplishing that did she let her nerves take back over, stumbling into one corner as a portion of her last meal came up. Ringabel and Agnès said nothing; they all needed a moment to recover after what just happened. They healed Tiz’s arm as best they could, then flew to DeRosso’s castle to demand of the archduke just what his asterisk had done. After all, it wasn’t hard to make the leap between the vampire asterisk and their friend’s new craving for blood.

As it turned out, they had missed a step: not the asterisk itself, but the last genome Tiz had absorbed. A large, monstrous bat…at the time, they had thought nothing of the fact that the beast had been undead, they had absorbed abilities from other undead without consequence, but apparently that bat only came into being by infecting other normal bats with its magic. Magic was based on knowledge of the arcane, and some knowledge, once learned, was impossible to not act on. A magic that couldn’t be controlled by the one who held it, but corrupted them from the inside out. Tiz had had no idea what he’d taken in until it was too late.

But with help from the Sage, DeRosso was able to section off that knowledge from his asterisk’s abilities, seal it away. They healed Tiz’s arm until there wasn’t a single blemish or tooth mark left on it, and the Sage took away the memory of ever encountering that monster from Tiz’s mind. To be on the safe side, the old man told them. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible, that if Tiz began to remember the incident, he might also start to remember the magic that had caused it… So they all took care to forget the days Tiz had spent growing hungrier and hungrier.

After the sage and DeRosso had both disappeared, Edea gave the vampire asterisk to Braev to hide away. The breadth of knowledge held by Luxendarc’s monsters was vast and valuable, yes. But without knowing the lore behind all of the monsters–

Some knowledge was too dangerous for anyone to hold.