—𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐔𝐒!

The dragon starts to walk as he continues on. “The stalls encircling the plaza were used by merchants we sheltered during the war, where they sold their wares until peace was restored. Further down is the pool—it’s a good place to practice swimming or just relax in general if you like the water. I’m sure we still have swimsuits from Pinet stored away in that case...”

Though it must seem at least a little odd to his peers for being quite unlike any natural body of water, including the Somniel’s own fishing pond. Different from the baths used to wash oneself clean too.

The merchant stalls are empty, but Forde can imagine how they’d look in action. And inside the cafe he spies a comfortable looking sofa. A good nap spot if ever he saw one. Walking around this place, the last thing he wants to think about is training or trials. 

Passing the small stack of crates set against a wall near the bottom of the stairs, the short wooden fence indicative of the orchard’s boundary is just a few more steps ahead. The Somniel being the safe haven it is, one could argue for the fence gate being unnecessary altogether when it always seems to be left open; anyone and everyone allowed entry without restriction, now being no exception as the dragon stops to take in the fragrant scent of nature’s bounty.

“As for the climate… It gets chilly in the early morning and at night, otherwise it’s pretty mild almost every day. I think it’s part of the magic that keeps the Somniel floating in the sky considering how high up we are—the monastery in Garreg Mach feels similar, just built at the top of a mountain instead.” That had been one of the first things Alear noticed upon his arrival at the latter. “And yes, the Somniel can be moved if necessary. It’s a fortunate thing that we usually don’t need to though, haha.”

Would he have preferred she stay dead? He isn’t Veyle. As Alear is now, as he has been ever since he awoke as a Divine Dragon, his only memories of Zephia are from fighting on opposite sides. It was her magic that hurt his friends and allies, aided Sombron in making a pawn of his sister when all she wanted was to be with her family again.

It was also her magic that gave them the means to reach one of the Shards, and subsequently the space between worlds where her former master awaited. She may not have necessarily done it for his sake or anyone’s in particular, but he is not ungrateful when none of what came after would have been possible without her little gift. …Surprising as the exact extent of its power was at the time.

All of this to say he doesn’t have a definite answer for that question yet. Maybe he never will, even after whatever this is runs its course and Zephia is gone again.

“…I can allow that much, as long as you aren’t hiding an ulterior motive of some kind. But you will not leave my sight while you are inside the Ring Vault. I do have to exercise at least some caution, knowing what you’re capable of.”

"Would it comfort you to hold my hand throughout this lovely exhibit?" Zephia teases. "Or would keeping me that close unsettle you further? You're rather difficult to please, Divine Dragon."

And that much easier to taunt, it seems, because she briefly entertains the thought of simply shoving past him to see the rings she no longer cares for. Whatever interest she might've had is now focused on him, he who brought clarity and ruin to everything she's ever wanted. His youth—crystalized in slumber, safeguarded by that filthy beast of a woman for far too long—is both enviable and pitiful.

What is unsettling as he turns to cross the corridor leading to it is exposing his seemingly unguarded back to her in the process of taking the lead, as they certainly aren’t on the sort of terms that would make walking side-by-side anything less than absurd. He will simply have to trust that Zephia doesn’t have a surprise attack up her sleeve, that his caution will go largely unrewarded. They’re only going to see the rings in their now-dormant state so she can have her supposed closure and move on.

She wouldn’t have much to gain even if she did attempt something, save perhaps petty vengeance. That’s what he thinks to himself at least as they emerge from the column-lined passage and into the vast chamber on the other end.

As the inheritors of the legacies left behind by their parents, gone from their lives far too soon by any and all measures.

“Do you remember how I wanted to bring you here before?” If not for the time it would take to cross the sea both ways from Brodia, bearing in mind that they could not afford to miss the ship back to Fódlan in the process… What matters is that they are here now, Alear’s smile warm as he leads Seliph through a certain passage of the castle; able and willing to make good on his intent to share what had played such a pivotal role throughout his journey to ultimately save the world. “I should thank Alcryst again for inspiring this trip,” he laughs gently. “And you, for coming along this time too. What do you think of Lythos so far?”

As for Alear's question, he already has an answer in mind:

"It's beautiful."

The arrival was as memorable as the sea of maple trees in Brodia. Crossing the stretch of desolate land to reach the vibrant holy land left quite an impression on him.

"But above all, I'm honored to visit your home, Alear." He lets out a laugh. "And maybe a little nervous?"

Seeking the Fell Dragon Shards in Gradlon had done quite a bit to change his mind in that regard.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Lythos has since regained its former beauty, rebuilt what was lost in the war. One could hardly tell the difference without having been there to bear witness, both to the aforementioned decay and to the trying task of revitalizing the land after the fact.

The only person who could have perhaps taught him what to do and how to do it was gone. Alear will carry on in her stead nonetheless, in whatever way he can.

“Nervous?” Well, he probably would be too if their positions were reversed, and he says as much for Seliph to hear with a reassuring smile. “I’m with you though, coming home again after a rather long time away. Here, it’s just beyond this entrance…”

[ TXT ] : why are you still awake?

[ TXT ] : hey, where did you go?

[ TXT ] : it's getting bad again.

[ TXT ] : guess i'll just sit in bed. alone. by myself.

[ TXT ] : you can't ignore me forever.

[ TXT ] : i can't stop thinking about you.

[ TXT ] : just saw i called you last night. how'd that go?

[ TXT ] : i really need someone right now.

[ TXT ] : we need to make plans asap.

[ TXT ] : have you seen the news?

[ TXT ] : you were blackout drunk.

[ TXT ] : testing to see if you blocked my number...

[ TXT ] : do you know anything about doing stitches?

[ TXT ] : just please let me know you're okay.

[ TXT ] : did you forget we had plans?

[ TXT ] : i know you see my messages, your read receipts are on.

[ TXT ] : meet me at [ location ], it's important.

[ TXT ] : do you need comfort, to vent, or a solution?

[ TXT ] : is there anything i should bring?

[ TXT ] : call me. please, it's important.

[ TXT ] : i can't sleep.

[ TXT ] : have you eaten today?

[ TXT ] : you are always going to be my priority.

[ TXT ] : i haven't seen you around in awhile.

[ TXT ] : i had a dream about you last night.

[ TXT ] : the names are gonna get mean if you don't text me back.

[ TXT ] : at the risk of sounding cliche, what are you wearing?

[ TXT ] : just say the word and i'll drop everything.

[ TXT ] : do you seriously not remember?

[ TXT ] : come to the front door.

[ TXT ] : have you been drinking?

[ TXT ] : how do you feel after last night?

[ TXT ] : are you up? please be up.

[ TXT ] : you looked beautiful today.

[ TXT ] : i have so much to tell you.

[ TXT ] : no one's heard from you. are you okay?

[ TXT ] : who is this?

[ TXT ] : are you taking care of yourself?

[ TXT ] : thought i'd reach out and see how you're doing.

[ TXT ] : i miss the taste of your lips.

[ TXT ] : that kiss was really nice.

[ TXT ] : stop acting so high and mighty.

[ TXT ] : i left my [ item ] at your place.

[ TXT ] : are we still fighting?

[ TXT ] : i need help and i can't go to the hospital.

[ TXT ] : are you thinking about me too?

[ TXT ] : call me, i wanna hear your voice.

[ TXT ] : i don't want to talk to you.

[ TXT ] : what do you have to lose?

[ TXT ] : you don't have to ask, i'm already on my way.

[ TXT ] : i want to take a nap on you.

[ TXT ] : even if you called 6 months later at 3am, i'd answer.

[ TXT ] : what's my name in your phone?

[ TXT ] : how's trying to forget about me going?

[ TXT ] : i have nobody else to ask.

[ TXT ] : what do you mean you're at the hospital??

[ TXT ] : sorry, i think you have the wrong number.

[ TXT ] : good morning! you up yet?

[ TXT ] : do i sense sarcasm in your tone?

[ TXT ] : you start your day at 2pm?

[ TXT ] : you need MY help?

[ TXT ] : stop texting me.

[ TXT ] : i'll leave that up to your imagination.

[ TXT ] : are you asking me to sneak out?

[ TXT ] : when will i see you again?

[ TXT ] : if you come over, i'll order us a pizza.

[ TXT ] : are we ever going to talk about it?

[ TXT ] : can you come get me out of here?

[ TXT ] : you mean like ... a BODY - body?

[ TXT ] : it's just been one thing after another lately.

[ TXT ] : forgiving and forgetting is harder than it sounds.

[ TXT ] : i want your legs wrapped around my head.

[ TXT ] : call me when you wake up.

[ TXT ] : what are you doing that's more important than me?

Ah, well. At least this one tried to be polite. Even if it was a rather sorry show of it.

“My quarrel is not with you. Move aside at once!” Sothis grunts as the sword makes contact, breaking through her own defenses as if it was nothing and quickly dashing all hopes to shove him out of the way by force. If she can’t even block a mere attack, the idea she could move him is simply ridiculous. And to strike through him… feels unnecessary, for someone who has done relatively nothing wrong. Not in comparison to his little ‘friend’ over there, at least.

…Ugh, she had not wanted to do this. Byleth had best appreciate just how much effort she’s putting in for their house’s honor.

“Run all you want, it matters not! YOU SHALL MEET YOUR END WITH ME, COWARD!” The girl lifts a hand above her head, symbols and sigils oh so familiar glowing to life around her palm, magic then spreading to grow a matching set above said ‘coward’ — trapping him in and calling into being a beam of light to slam down atop his head.

Perhaps it is a bit cruel of her, but she can’t help the smile that forms as the power dissipates. She may need to pay for such a showing later, but goodness, did that feel so much better. 

He hums; under his breath, he murmurs, "Makes two of us, indeed..."

Anyway — he raises his arm, collecting familiar cold in his hand. He gives a small nod to the mage, almost sheepish with the thin smile that accompanies it. "I... apologize. Perhaps the medical tent would have some warmth for you."

Not that she wants to be saved, anyway.

She doesn't have the energy to spit her foul words. Pure adrenline is her only fuel, and its supply drains and drains.

THUD!

Rhajat crumples to the grass, finally. With her last action she reaches for the mask even still, trying to pry him from reality to her palm, in a world where she can reach her vengeance. She struggles against the muddy field, sloshing herself about in her vain attempt.

It certainly ensures that Alear hears the threat over the din of the battlefield before he finds himself caged by magic sigils, granted a split second for the memory of the last time something like this had happened to rise unbidden—

Light swallows his vision and floods it with a kaleidoscope of colors, makes him feel like he’s just taken a blow to the back of his head (it did drop down on him from above, after all). The Divine Dragon staggers a step or two, presses his free hand to his temple momentarily; shakes it off like a dog would to get water out of its fur. Coming from a land where light magic had been unique to the Emblems, it never ceases to amaze how just about anyone can be capable of casting it here. Though what Sothis may in fact be has something to do with that as well?

Think about that later, Alear. Despite knowing it will undoubtedly anger her further, a cursory glance at his masked teammate and corresponding grudge-bearer once more—the latter’s energy clearly flagging after being frozen and thawed several times—reveals an opportunity to take one more opponent out of the fight…and free the poor girl from her current misery too. She’s probably going to get sick after this.

A solid blow with the flat of the blade slams into her side when Alear attempts to down her then, though she pays it and him no mind at all. No, her sole focus is still his teammate to the very end, vainly reaching for him even after she’s already collapsed. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed by her sheer determination (others would call it obsession instead) or worried, but that’s as far as she goes for this competition.

Which just leaves a certain furious may-or-may-not-be-a-dragon now. Haha…

“You dare—? GET BACK HERE AND FACE ME!” As if staring at her wasn’t enough disrespect, he has the gall to leave her at a moments notice — and to fight someone else, at that! Does he not think her a good enough opponent?!

She strikes out quickly (perhaps too quickly, she nearly takes a bit of a stumble. Goodness, running is difficult. How do people do this all day?) though sadly, not quickly enough to save the teammate that took her place as bad-hair’s target. Or perhaps happily. It did seem dying was what he wanted, after all, even if he may have preferred it be by someone else’s hand. In a mock battle, such a defeat is as close to death as one can be.

“Save your breath on the unnecessary apologies, will you?” Despite the sigh that escapes her upon his defeat, Sothis regards their departing teammate with a polite nod all the same. Whatever is wrong with him, he appears down enough on himself as he is. Piling on more disappointment when total defeat is unavoidably impending as it is now benefits none of them. At least death threats are more normal than ones to tear another’s fingernails off…

“You have done all that you can. Return yourself to the infirmary at once,” She sweeps her gaze over the enemies once again, eyes narrowing as they settle upon a particularly annoying pest. “And take heart in knowing at least one of them shall be headed there at your side.”

He glances down at his nails, thankfully protected by a pair of gloves. But the thought of his fingernails being, erm, peeled off of him doesn't sound very enticing — so Bruno does what he does best, and frowns deep enough that it seems carved out on his face. "I..." he pauses, "suppose you can try."

Ike was trying to say something, yes? He thinks he'll ask later on regardless, but at least Darios is out of the fight to avoid a repeat. Bruno catches onto the end of his retreat (—wasn't much help?), and while he stands amazed at his unnamed ally at his strength, the faint whispers of disappointment leaves a reminder for Bruno to find him later.

Guess he's just another idiot.

Her other teammate makes more of a fuss of his failure, shouting at him as much as she shouts at their opponents. There's something demanding in the girl's voice that she can't help but admire, too— clearly, Rhajat's not the only one sick of everyone's shortcomings. Perhaps after the battle she could spy on this weird girl's habits. There's not time for that right now, though.

She observes all of this while she chases after the masked mage, but Rhajat's quest for revenge doesn't get to take her very far. No sooner does she curse at him does he instead freeze her again, as if her emotion is nothing but a nuissance. She seethes with her gaze.

He’ll have to apologize to Sothis once this is over. If she will even listen, that is. But really, this is a mock battle, and he was only acting as his teammates requested of him…

Well, worse people have felt animosity towards Alear. Looking at the girl with the scroll intent on hounding his masked ally though, maybe it’s better if he doesn’t get in between them by also attacking her. Incurring the wrath of two opponents is a rather scary prospect even if it means they’ll prioritize him over Ike and the other man.

Thus, he turns away from his own frosted work, sparing a final glance before disregarding her. "She will be frozen for enough time — a minimal threat to us. But..."

Onto the next problem.

His hand swipes through the air, carrying within his hold faint blue as ice shoots up in front of Ike. "...your blade would serve better elsewhere." He points to the frozen block. "Take your... frustrations out there, Ike — I'll find you after that." ( Quieter, through the tensioned drawl in his words, an insinuation: I'll have questions for you both. )

And onto the next.

Unfortunate he had not asked for names, because the only way he flags lookalike-Alear down is also by sending a stray spell down his direction, slicing the space between him and the green-haired girl.

A sheepish smile in soft apology back at his teammate, and he explains, "Your weapon can handle Dar— the professor's shield. Against him," he tilts his head toward Darios, "I'd like us to have every advantage possible."

Ike looks at Bruno, then at the ice. What does he want Ike to do with this thing, exactly? Then Ike realises. "No, wait, it's not-"

No. Ike does not have time to explain the year of missions, personal drama, beef and friendship that has evolved. Even if he did, would Bruno really get it? Does Ike get it?

Ike is not a child. He doesn't need toys to be distracted by. He's not about to go on a rampage. Did he really go that crazy? He looks back at his allies, and understands; okay, yes, he's gotten too into the game. It had all been in good fun, for him and Darios. Perhaps not for the other four.

And maybe Ike had been a little too petty.

"Get him," Ike says under his breath to Alear. Out of them all, he seems most poised to take out one of the Eagles quickly.

As soon as the ice thaws enough, the remains of her last words spill over back into the scene. Livid with inaction, Rhajat trembles, rattling her stiff joints free of the mage's blizzard. She snatches her scroll back up from where it had fallen onto the grass.

Though her body had been frozen, her eyes had remained free, furiously tracking the mage's movements, fury burning from her retinas. He would not be getting away with this. He would not be escaping this, escaping this storm, her rage and malice, channeled into her the most bitter magic she could conceive. Even when his attention shifts to his teammates, Rhajat's hones in on his profile, refusing to relinquish the feeling of sickening numbness from the spell.

So, like a vengeful spirit intent on possession, she sprints towards him as he moves away from her. With eyes widened intensely, Rhajat becomes the very image of a crazed, feral animal. Even darting behind her teammate's back, she's singularly minded, not bothering to warn them of her route. She yells towards her masked marauder: "RUN, AND I'LL FOLLOW! I'LL PEEL OFF YOUR FINGERNAILS FOR THAT!"

Neither of these happen as he instinctively steps back from the wall of ice that rises to cut him off from Sothis, red-and-blue eyes tracing its source to his teammate with a curious look. That’s certainly one way to draw his attention, considering. Understanding alights however with the other’s explanation, especially as he’s managed to talk Ike into backing down as well; the heft of the sword in his grip suddenly more pronounced in the seconds it takes to spot the shield in question.

Get him, Ike even adds, and, well. He can hardly disappoint now, can he? (if it’s really all right for him to attack the man whom ike had just been taunting like there was a personal score to settle.) “Right!”

The armorslayer gleams in the morning sun as Alear changes targets, using the momentum of his running start to draw his sword arm back before ramming the metal-cleaving blade directly into the Eagle professor’s shield. There’s the telltale screech of steel against steel on impact, repeated as he pulls it free to expose the damage done; not exceptionally beyond repair but in definite need of a trip to a blacksmith’s if it isn’t discarded altogether after this.

“…Sorry?”

Underneath his cover, an eyebrow raises sharply, but it's too late to ask questions when Ike charges straight into the fight. Bruno can only hope that he isn't serious when he says kill — this is a mock battle, after all, but he has faith that Ike knows that.

A nod at their other teammate (...is he her twin, perchance? family? the dual-toned hair is difficult to forget), and Bruno clasps his hands together. "I can handle the mage," he offers. "Take care of the other."

Magic gathers in between his palms, dousing the grass underneath his boots in a thin layer of frost. He throws his arms forward at the unfamiliar Eagle, a sigil glowing brightly in front of his face; shards of ice shoots up from the grass to surround her in their hold.

"Maybe you'll kill me right this time around?" As if to illustrate his point, Ike swings and Darios feels the bruise forming now. Even without Ettard, the blunt end of any sword of Ike's is a pain in the everywhere.

He takes the brunt of the hit, he can't allow his allies that. Not when Ike doesn't know how to hold back. "I'll handle him! Focus on maintaining a distance! If need be, I'll swing you around to keep this oaf from hitting you."

Ike ever the hero he is takes too much of his attention, his allies are formidable, perhaps even more so at this level and Darios can't help but smile. "Don't hold back for even a moment. This field is meant to replicate the ones we may find ourselves on one day, we can't disgrace them."

If not for the tall, silver-haired man in place of the professor who had been here the previous year, Alear might have wondered whether he’d unwittingly gone back in time somehow. Again. Twice is a fortunate coincidence, even if he thinks Ike would rather avoid him instead given their last interaction. And seems to have some kind of grudge against one of the people from the opposing side as well, because— Kill? Again??

Unlike his mask-wearing teammate, Alear’s confusion-slash-alarm shows quite plainly. This is still just a low-stakes competition, right…? In any case, he nods back when addressed, armorslayer in hand and already bracing to charge forward himself. “Of course. We may not know each other very well yet, but I’ll be counting on you all the same.”

The autumn atmosphere grows even chillier as the Divine Dragon takes off running, breath nearly misting against his face until he’s within striking range of the short one. Alear aims to disarm more than hurt when the weight of his blade slams close to the crossguard of hers, but in getting close enough to really look at who he’s facing, he notices:

“You are…”

It’s not like he has a sixth sense for like recognizing like or anything. It’s just that her ears are longer and pointed at the tips, which is a dead giveaway… Probably.

He can’t see her face with her back to him, never mind how she’s using her arms to conceal it even further. His own arm stays draped over her waist, and it doesn’t really occur to him that his shirt sleeve is the only barrier between them and skin-on-skin contact there. If anything Alear’s hold tightens instead, all but burying his face in Yunaka’s hair and closing his eyes to focus on their shared body heat. Trapped underneath the blanket as it is, as long as neither of them move around too much the cold will be hard-pressed to creep back in.

Much better than only one getting to keep warm while the other is left to endure the chill. He smiles—mostly to himself, considering, but still.

“Yeah. I will. You have to sleep too though, Yunaka. Otherwise I might be the one waking you up instead of the other way around.” That won’t really happen, not even in a thousand years, but Alear clearly only means it in jest if the hint of mirth in his tone is any indication. She and everyone else who knows him knows he usually sleeps like the dead, after all.

Drifting off to do just that is easy too, the longer they stay like this. His eyelids start to feel heavier when he blinks, staring at the back of Yunaka’s head until Alear is nearly out like a light. He hopes, drowsily, that sleep will come easily for her too when it does. She deserves it.

She feels his breath puff against her ear when he speaks. In turn, her own breath stills in her lungs for a moment as she waits for…something? A follow-up? A move? More pulling at her? Nothing follows though, and it's only when she feels the even way what his chest rises and falls against her back that she realizes he's drifted off to sleep.

That fast!? She turns her head just a little to peek back at him. She only really manages to see the blue and red of his hair, but his lack of reactions are enough to convince her. Impressive…She thought getting into a sleep as deep as the ones he dipped into would take longer…

Yunaka exhales all the air in her lungs before facing forward again. She won't sleep much, but at least she's keeping him safe and happy. Her arms lower from her face and a hand curls around the edge of the blanket, pulling it tight against her chest. The wind and snow howl outside, fierce enough to make the walls of the tent shake with the force of it, but inside, their little pocket of darkness is warm and quiet.

Yunaka shuts her eyes. Good night, Alear.

"In truth," she continues, for a truth doesn't have to be the whole truth, "I suppose I was simply in search of closure. You understand, don't you?"

...Maybe not. She's sure he would've much preferred her to have died and stayed dead in Gradlon, if only to provide a picture-perfect ending to his tale of valor and salvation. It wouldn't have taken even a full century for the vestiges of her existence to fade. Lord Sombron might become a household name for millennia to come, either as a warning against wrongdoing or to refresh the praises offered to Lythos' king, but his Hounds would not.

(And though Veyle had said; though Veyle had been so certain...

...well. She's still young. It will be some time before she knows what Zephia had learned long, long ago.)

"I don't need to repeat what happened to you, of all people, but allow me to still say this. I spent many years of my life making sure that Lord Sombron got his hands on those rings inside. Then, I spent the rest making sure it wouldn't matter." And so she had died on her terms, by her magic, as a result from her choice. That hadn't been for him.

Would he have preferred she stay dead? He isn’t Veyle. As Alear is now, as he has been ever since he awoke as a Divine Dragon, his only memories of Zephia are from fighting on opposite sides. It was her magic that hurt his friends and allies, aided Sombron in making a pawn of his sister when all she wanted was to be with her family again.

It was also her magic that gave them the means to reach one of the Shards, and subsequently the space between worlds where her former master awaited. She may not have necessarily done it for his sake or anyone’s in particular, but he is not ungrateful when none of what came after would have been possible without her little gift. …Surprising as the exact extent of its power was at the time.

All of this to say he doesn’t have a definite answer for that question yet. Maybe he never will, even after whatever this is runs its course and Zephia is gone again.

“…I can allow that much, as long as you aren’t hiding an ulterior motive of some kind. But you will not leave my sight while you are inside the Ring Vault. I do have to exercise at least some caution, knowing what you’re capable of.”