Guardian of the Sand

But doing so on his own was dangerous, he knew that well enough. Despite his training, his body was still fragile, and he didn’t want to give any locals a fright by transforming.. Thankfully he didn’t have to, as he met with a woman that seemed to be interested in exploration as well. Something about her felt… familiar, in a way Nils could not quite explain. There was a warmth to her that reminded him of an old friend… so the idea of traveling together with her did not sound bad at all.

And so they did, which led them to their current situation.

“How interesting.. Yes, let’s head down!” He answered her with a pleasant expression as he took her hand. As the pair carefully descended down into the cavern, what greeted them was an odd cave in which a stream seemed to run and glittering coral grew out of bodies of water and the light reflecting off them onto the cavern walls, creating a unique yet beautiful scenery. “Wow….” Nils took in the incredible sight and sensations, crimson eyes glittering with wonder and curiosity. The air was slightly salty, so the water running through the cave most likely came from the ocean.

“This appears to be some sort of beach cave!” He noted with interest. Judging from what they could see so far, it was very likely if they followed the path, at least one exit would end up by the beach. “This is so incredible..! Thank you again for coming with me, Lady Igrene!” He was sure he wouldn’t have had the guts to explore on his own, and he’d have missed out on this incredible sight. His excitement was palpable, befitting his youthful features.

It was incredible. The farther in they traveled, the more the light seemed to bend and refract along the surface of the water, lighting the cavern from within. If Igrene had not seen the walls around them and the ceiling over their heads, the blue of the sky peeking through nooks and crannies, she might have truly thought that they simply walked along any other stretch of beach. The salt air grazed against her skin, the sand soft beneath her feet. 

It was almost soothing, to feel the tread of her steps to familiar, despite being so far from home. 

The young man seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, and Igrene felt her heart squeeze, her mind's eye flickering to the soft round faces that had always awaited her whenever she stepped foot out into the desert wind. She returned his smile easily, feeling the home from within him. 

She did not think she was imagining the sensations of familiarity that she felt, but... 

The returning smile curved her lips easily. "Let us follow the trail for now – see how it forks? As long as we keep the trail in sight, we will not get lost. But I suppose we can venture farther in." 

Cautiously, Igrene moved along the gentle stream of water that trickled in from without – if it continued to move, perhaps there was another body where the current was stronger? 

Hands folded behind her back, she stared at the other, careful eyes tracking the gait of her body, to ensure she was not near to toppling.

The question draws a small, awkward huff of a laugh from Fiora’s throat. Ah... so she’d been found out. Fiora’s body always betrayed her. There was always some form of tell. Her first commander had noticed her tremor when she got tired. She was fortunate that lances were so heavy — it often was easy enough to mask.

Today, though, it seemed to be the sweat on her back. Fiora smiled, complacent and serene, as they walked together.

But as she looked closer, she found that the sight of Fiora's face pressed gently against memories further back, and she cocked her head slightly, brow furrowed only a touch, before she continued back to their previous stations. 

"Well spotted – I...have come to teach at this institution." It wasn't a lie, but neither was it entirely truthful. She had orbited and eventually found herself adrift, so unlike the staid path she had followed as Guardian, but had allowed herself to be pulled back to this place for the sake of Sophia. "I instruct the Black Eagles house. What is it that might have brought a famed Pegasus Knight of Ilia to this continent?" 

The twine sat heavily in her hands, and she made to begin winding it about the posts that had been dug and seated in the hours prior. The layered knots were unfamiliar to her, but she got the hang of it quickly enough, looping and tugging the rope taut. 

"Where on earth did those other freeloaders go?" 

The voice beside them brought her attention from the work to the creased face of their overseer, the manager deployed by the island's owner. He'd been friendly enough in the beginning, promises of great pay and familial connection to come throughout the day, but had grown harsher and forceful as the day had gone on. 

Tellingly, but for the bright red of his nose, his skin was unblemished by sun. 

[a scroll, tied into a roll with a neat piece of twine but otherwise undecorated and undated, in a hand that is legible but clearly unpracticed and veers occasionally] 

finally kissing the person you’ve been pining for .

a kiss shared during a game  ( truth or dare ,  spin the bottle ,  etc ) .

kissing your lover to show you forgive them .

neck kisses that turn into love bites .

wiping away your lover’s tears as you kiss them .

a kiss to prove you don’t have feelings for them .

a last kiss before one goes away .

biting your lover’s lip amidst a kiss .

an emotional kiss bringing one party to tears .

a kiss while being reunited after a long time .

kissing your lover in a moment of sheer joy .

a kiss while slow dancing .

sharing a spontaneous kiss with a stranger .

an abrupt ,  heated kiss during the middle of a fight .

kissing them to shut them up .

a kiss to wake your lover up in the morning .

sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain .

kissing your partner to seal a marriage .

a possessive kiss that is meant to stake a claim .

a kiss to resolve suppressed romantic/sexual tension .

a kiss attempting to convince the other party to stay .

kissing the top of their head as you hold them .

a risky kiss between forbidden lovers .

stolen kisses while hiding away from a crowd .

a kiss that leaves lipstick stains .

a kiss shared on a rooftop while the sun sets .

a flirtatious kiss on the back of the hand .

sneaking off to a public bathroom to make out .

a kiss on the forehead as the other sleeps .

an  ( accidental / mutually )  drunken kiss .

caging your lover against a wall with your arms to kiss them .

a kiss after joining your lover in the shower .

a kiss after receiving good news .

a tentative ,  exploratory kiss between friends .

a kiss shared between enemies during combat .

kissing your lover after believing you’d lost them .

a kiss after a devastating event ,  meant to comfort .

a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party .

kissing your lover under the night sky while stargazing .

a kiss between two people in a fake relationship .

a kiss that seals a promise .

kissing your lover lazily first thing in the morning .

holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them .

kissing the tears from their cheeks .

a kiss to your lover’s stomach as you travel down their body .

an abrupt kiss that you melt into after a moment of hesitation .

sleepy ,  domestic morning kisses in the kitchen while making breakfast .

a rushed kiss before one party leaves for work .

a kiss to make up for an argument

a dominating kiss to end an argument 

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness 

a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind 

a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each other 

a kiss to distract

a kiss against tear stained cheek

a kiss on the brow 

a kiss where they’re both covered in blood

a kiss after one muse has killed for the other 

a kiss after one muse has injured the other 

a kiss between enemies who should be fighting 

a kiss between exes who meant to walk away 

a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling 

an adoring kiss because the other is rambling 

a kiss to end sexual tension 

an angry kiss 

a tearful kiss 

a kiss to prove a point 

a hesitant kiss 

a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other 

a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid of 

kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and sooth 

a kiss as if trying to answer a question 

a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort 

a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way 

a kiss that says thank you 

a kiss on the corner of the mouth,  hoping for more but expecting nothing 

an exploratory kiss,  testing the waters between them 

a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep 

a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is napping 

a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion 

a kiss to comfort both parties

a kiss stemmed from relief 

a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings 

a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong to 

a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other

a kiss stemmed from jealousy 

a kiss to make someone else jealous 

a biting,  passionate kiss 

a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite,  teeth bruising skin 

a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers 

a kiss to make each other feel alive 

a kiss stolen away in a corner,  ignoring crowds 

a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselves 

a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close 

a kiss to convince the other to stay 

a kiss like they’re trying to convince the other to love them 

a hopeful kiss in the rain

a desperate kiss in the rain 

an angry kiss in the rain 

a possessive kiss in the rain 

a playful,  happy kiss in the rain 

a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rain 

a kiss in the rain to make up like it’s a damn romcom 

a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbye 

a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn 

a kiss after treating a wound 

a defiant kiss 

a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captive 

a kiss to anger a third party 

an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime 

Well... of course she was. Her body was sore, throbbed with a dull ache across her muscles, a splitting pain in her joints. In addition, the world was more tinged gray, or a touch white, and felt very slightly off-center, as it did on the rare occasion that she sustained blows to the head. But that was just the way that it was. Fiora was used to working herself down to nothing. You did not become a pegasus knight if you sat on your proverbial haunches, after all. Nor did you keep your life in battle. No matter the pain, one must carry on, must endure.

“You there!” a supervisor boomed above them. Fiora’s eyes flickered up — he was talking to the two of them, a knobbled, long-nail finger gesturing at them. “Get back to work!”

Smiling softly at her new companion, so eager to hop to attention, despite her labor being volunteered and not obligatory, Igrene eventually rose, stretched languorously, and sighed before the collected the load she had set down for the moment. 

"There are only so many times that one can attempt to drink from an empty flask before accepting that it needs to be refilled," she said, feeling the strain in her muscles. Before she continued to move along, she raised a hand to those that had gathered, and called out; "Take another moment, and collect yourselves. I believe there is a spring not far from here, why don’t you all refresh there, and return in a few minutes, that we may do the same?" 

Here, she gestured to herself and her new friend, smiling in a way that she knew was pretty and pleasing, but with her tone brooking no argument – a holdover, she knew, from the time when there had been so many tiny voices calling for her attention in Acradia. 

Turning to the young woman, she finally took that step back in the direction of the foundation they were setting, aware but pointedly ignoring the eyes on her back. 

@desertslegacy

It’s time to put all of your recent building experience to work toward a tried and true marvel in engineering: bridges, intended to connect all of the various islands in the archipelago. This job is a perfect workout for those itching to use their muscles, as there are tons of metal and wood to lug about. The supervisors in charge of the project, however, are a bit demanding. They drive you hard and have even begun prohibiting breaks! Will you write a formal complaint to the eccentric owner of these isles, or will you perhaps instead take matters into your own hands? [Grants Authority +1]

Fiora was no stranger to hard work. It was nigh impossible, she thought, to come from Ilia and not know the taste of it, the stinging, aching burn across muscles, the sweatied upper lip, the stiffness of lower body and joints. Today was no different. Though instead of wielding a lance and others’ blood on the tip of it, she was carrying thicker metal beams, along with corresponding wooden ones, and taking it to the construction site.

She herself didn’t notice anything amiss, in truth, at first. She made many trips with no complaints, other than the ache of her body — but it always protested so, finicky, fleshy thing that it was. But somewhere, slowly, a gentle, careful awareness trickled in. Her companions were looking... frustrated. Upset. In some cases, unwell, even. Fiora carefully off-loaded the metal beams she was carrying, and looked to a woman nearby, putting down her own load, with an expression Fiora found completely inscrutable. (Something, though, about her was horribly familiar. Perhaps it was that she held herself like a warrior... yes, that must be it...)

Still. It did not account for this utter drain that she experienced now. She understood that the heat was lesser than she was accustomed, in the simmering sun of the desert, but she could not have accounted for the humidity.

She had noticed, however, as time had gone on, that she was not alone in her fatigue - strong laborers, experienced to a man, and all had began to flounder one by one. They did not mask their irritations, their faces stormy as they grumbled amongst one another, even moreso at seeing the double-headed eagle on her doublet marking her as a professor of the academy.

When she offered them an understanding smile, they did not return it, and continued to eye her warily.

"Ah?" The approach of a knight drew her to standing, even though her pulse still fluttered.

But the isles promised much and more to those who were willing to plunge into their nooks and crannies, and though she could not be tempted by riches, there was the pique of curiosity that came with such tales.

"Do you think there is truly anything to find?" Igrene brushed aside a crop of vines to allow the Lady Elincia to pass underneath them. There seemed just ahead to be the opening of one such network of caves, if the maps were to be believed - though they, too, had the potential to be nothing more than legend.

She had no need for treasure, necessarily - what would she do with such riches, if given to her? In Arcadia, and for the moment here, in Fodlan, Igrene would have said that she had all that she needed, and if one did not search too deeply then it would have been the truth.

But the circuit of islands is vast, and their cave networks long and interconnected - some laden with natural gifts untold to one such as she, and others fraught with peril beyond imagining.

The one she emerged from now appeared to be the former: while the slick walls of the entrance told a story of merely another damp, rocky enclosure, a few meters in it expanded into a lush ecosystem in its own right.

"I believe there must have been a sinkhole, some time ago," she said after she hoisted herself out of the rocky incline to meet the young man she traveled into the wilds with. "There are points of natural light, but I cannot determine where they originate. But there is growth, and there is life. Would you like to see it?"

There was so much that might have needed to be discussed, so many things which might have come to pass or stayed the same, but as Igrene tucked the edge of a blanket around herself, she found that there was something so comfortable about bedding down with Sophia nearby. That they were thousands of miles away, in a dormitory rather than in one of their own homes, surrounded by pilgrims and wanderers and students rather than by the familiar faces of their countrymen in Arcadia mattered little to her, for when the sun went down and she dragged a brush through Sophia's hair it was as though nothing at all had changed.

And, if she closed her eyes and cast her mind back, she might have recalled a time when it was Sophia brushing her hair, and watching over her in kind.

"I suppose it isn't the time for bedtime stories," she mused, threading her fingers through the dense locks of purple, plaiting them with practiced motions, "but of late I've been thinking quite a bit of the Locket in the Dunes. Do you remember that one?"

Sometimes it was hard to remember where one heard a story for the first time, in a village such as Arcadia where the same story was passed around, shaped by small influences from one person to another in the same way as one might spice a meal in a shared cookpot. Still, the basics remained the same;

"The displaced hermit crab, traveled so far from the sands of Nabata's beaches and into her heart, moving from shell to shell before discovering the enchanted locket, left behind from the Scouring and suffused with such strong magical energy that the crab began to develop a consciousness. Unsatisfied with how little of the world he had seen, he traveled farther and farther into the desert, unaware that this was taking him away from his family, his life, everything he had ever known - unaware too that the locket was keeping him alive.

It was ironic, she thought, that her steps might falter in her approach. This so-called guru, who helped those to conquer their fears…was this truly applicable, for the likes of her?

It was not that Igrene did not experience fear - of course she did. There could be no protective instinct without fear, and there could not be a Guardian who did not protect. It was the carefully cultivated fear that drove she, and those in the long line before her, into fulfilling their duties.

It was merely that… She frowned. Her departure from the monastery, from her duty to Nabata, to Sophia, to Idunn, to Fae…

Igrene shook her head, resumed her pace. Her fears had become less cultivated. It was something that she needed to admit, to acknowledge, and ultimately, to face. The tumult in her heart was unlike her, the drift between one location and another, one purpose and its opposite.

And it was another obstacle that needed to be eliminated, with as much efficiency as she eliminated those that swarmed the sands.

The feel of the sun was different here, closer and more intimate, sticking to her skin with every spray of seawater that the breeze brought in. It was not as unending as in the desert sky, the eye in the sky that arced a careful sentinel over she and her people, but the boisterous presence of a loud, tropical bird.

The mountains were easier to get used to, if she were honest, the same dry air familiar to her lungs than wading through this dense blanket of moisture, and even if the heat was comparable it was the bright blue of the sky that took her aback every time she looked up at it.

With a task in hand, some preparation or other for the rich patron of the island, it had been easier to overlook, but now…

These wolves needed this buck, but so did many other mouths to feed back at the monastery.

Having the better skill with a bow, and the advantage of not being sighted immediately, Igrene took the wolves' distraction as the chance it was to end the buck's suffering. It wheezed, slumped -- finally -- into the snow, released from its fate. Before the pack could descend on the kill, she was quick to draw their attention away from it and towards them.

The wolves he was familiar with likely would have backed off some from such an entrance, hungry as they might have been. When you live in the same mountains as wyverns, you learn when and where to pick your battles.

At first, it seemed that these wolves might do the same. They were unsure of how big a threat the two of them posed. And if Igrene had continued to show aggression, they might have fully backed off.

Lloyd was a little baffled at the softer tone of voice Igrene was using, speaking to the animals in this standoff like they might rationalize their words. And, for an utterly amazing moment, Lloyd almost thought that they would. They paced, ears swiveling at her words and the unsure threat of her bow. Some whined, tails tucked and bodies held low to the ground.

An astounded exhale left Lloyd, a hand at his belt, hovering just over the hilt of his sword--

And then one of the wolves lunged with a snarl, sinking its teeth into Igrene's arm as she was brought down into the snow. The tension was broken in an instant; Lloyd had his blade in hand as soon as the wolf lunged but the snow hampered his movement enough to prevent him from reaching her faster, while the rest of the pack riled up in defense at this new struggle.

Igrene had not wanted to harm the creatures for simply trying to survive, and Lloyd didn't either. He struck with the flat of his blade, a solid but still held back smack that would leave a welt but not draw blood. It was enough to shock the wolf into releasing its bite, Lloyd bearing down on it with a shout causing it to retreat back to the fold of its kind.

But they were not backing down, and they had the numbers.

Lloyd inserted himself between the pack and Igrene, blade ready to do some actual damage should they choose to press forward as he tried to take stock of Igrene's injury without taking his eyes completely off the wolves.

"You continue to surprise me, Igrene--" The crunch of snow, hazel eyes darting back forward. "Are you badly injured...? I don't think we're getting out of this without a fight, buck or no, unfortunately." He would take the brunt of it, whether they chose to stay and try to claim the buck or retreat to get Igrene aid immediately. But he respected her, and he would not go over her head like she was not just as capable a warrior.

With a smart yelp, the wolf released, skittering back to its fellows, and Igrene looked up to find the broad back of her companion before her, separating her from the wolves and she scrambled up from prone, cradling her sheared forearm to her body. 

Over the roar of the wind, she scant heard Sir Lloyd speaking to her, but she forced herself to focus, to find that focal point over the throbbing pain of her newly opened scars. Gritting her teeth, Igrene ripped the scarf from her throat, wrapping the thing about her arm tight, tight, stanch the bleeding, she could not afford to be useless in the face of danger again. Her eyes flicked about the space swiftly, seeking the depression in the snow where he bow might have fallen, and knelt to reach for it with trembling fingers – from the pain? From the cold? Impossible to tell, but the leather of its grip shifted under her grip. 

"We must get the buck," she said, as though there were no other option: they had been sent into the wild for the good of the monastery, and Igrene had faced worse than wolves in the desert. She would return successful, as she always had. 

She could focus through pain. 

It was the cold that was another beast entirely, unlike any cold she had ever felt, its teeth digging far deeper than the wolf's mere glancing strikes, seeping knives into her gut and stealing sensation from her limbs, casting her mind in fog. She shook her head, mostly to herself, and felt along her hip with numb fingers for another arrow. 

The cold had been intense for several days now – intermittent bouts of ferocious wind sweeping great sheets of snow across the monastery grounds, to moments of complete stillness, an almost lulling peace were it not for the biting cold. Though Igrene was certainly unused to such duration of cold, to say nothing of the sheer degree of it, she forced herself to move about and shake off the chattering and the sluggishness, not allowing herself to fall idle.

Many of the students were not so lucky, did not have quite the focus or discipline as she, had not had to deal with such extremes in their time on this earth, and stayed quite bundled up, boarded in their rooms or the common areas, huddling with friends for warmth when possible. Some, of course, stuck to strict regimes of their own, but the majority found themselves falling to despair.

The church seemed rather at a loss, for many of the senior members of staff were of a similar mind to she: keep moving through the cold, endure, scrape what warmth she could.

Igrene found her way to the reception hall one morning, the air bright with chill and found that it was bustling with an energy quite unlike anything she had seen in recent weeks. Indeed, the last time she had seen such a font of activity was during preparation for the Ethereal Ball, and it felt quite similar: tables set up with baskets of twine and other bits and bobs, groups of students and knights and professors with their heads bowed working dutifully or chatting amongst one another with their hands working to curl the twine about charms and mini fetishes, some in the shape of a human, others draconian, and others still in the shape of the fan she had seen in flags and standards all over the monastery, this so called Crest of Seiros.

Craning her neck, she found serene blonde person in monk's habit, seated and working happily alongside a gaggle of students. Igrene weaved her way through the crowd to stand off to the side, peering down at everything that littered their table with some curiosity.

More than that, they seemed to move together well – if a bit stiffly – but considering that Igrene had little experience with dances of these kinds, she considered it well and truly to be a victory. Indeed, though Lyon was not comfortable with the circumstance – whether that be being presented, or being controlled, or merely dancing by its own merit – their combined muscle memory had them gliding about the space with little fanfare, good or bad. 

"See?" She emphasized as the song came to an end, meeting his eye with a bright smile, expression open and kind. "We made it through well enough with your lead. You might even think me a proper lady," she added with a soft laugh. 

Still, the boy was clearly crawling beneath his skin at the attention, at the spotlight – and, Igrene suspected, that was possibly his patron's intention. Canting her head thoughtfully, Igrene raised her hand to her mouth in a large, showy yawn, and extended her hand to him. 

"The dance was lovely, and I thank you for it. It seems I'm rather more tired than I thought – perhaps you'd join me for a glass of champagne. Er, before the next dance," she added, a touch loudly, a touch pointedly, at the ceiling. 

he helped ephraim with his studies when they were younger  ——  back when the cracks were hidden deep within lyon's heart. back then, he could still meet ephraim's eyes... but that didn't make him a teacher, either.

at last, there's a pause in the music before another song can begin. stepping back, lyon lets go.

"i don't think that has anything to do with teaching, professor..." lyon shakes his head. he catches the sun-bright smile, the openness behind her expression.   &   the mage can't bring himself to match it. nothing beyond another strained smile before he breaks eye contact again.

he realizes professor igrene must be trying to make him feel better, that his discomfort must be that obvious. and here he is, not—

"i—" he blinks, having not expected the invitation. lyon anticipated this encounter to end here; it began by the whim of an elemental, and he wouldn't wish to impose on professor igrene despite her understanding. there's always better company to share a glass of champagne with. but that yawn, the pointed words at the ceiling above...

"i... okay. if you are sure," the young man agrees, hesitating for a split second before linking his arm with hers. another song begins as they make their leave.   &   hopefully, the elemental won't choose to pick up the invisible strings again.

he wonders if he should say something to correct her... no. lyon discards the thought. that will only make this situation more awkward than it needs to be. he doesn't need an apology from a well-meaning stranger. nor does he wish for pity.

not that he knows if it would be better coming from someone he knows.

"teacher? me? no, i don't teach at the academy... i wouldn't be suitable for it, anyway." violets dart away, discomfort creeping up to lyon's face. he knows why she— professor igrene wouldn't have seen him around all that much. but that's not information he wishes to disclose.

More than that, they seemed to move together well – if a bit stiffly – but considering that Igrene had little experience with dances of these kinds, she considered it well and truly to be a victory. Indeed, though Lyon was not comfortable with the circumstance – whether that be being presented, or being controlled, or merely dancing by its own merit – their combined muscle memory had them gliding about the space with little fanfare, good or bad. 

"See?" She emphasized as the song came to an end, meeting his eye with a bright smile, expression open and kind. "We made it through well enough with your lead. You might even think me a proper lady," she added with a soft laugh. 

Still, the boy was clearly crawling beneath his skin at the attention, at the spotlight – and, Igrene suspected, that was possibly his patron's intention. Canting her head thoughtfully, Igrene raised her hand to her mouth in a large, showy yawn, and extended her hand to him. 

"The dance was lovely, and I thank you for it. It seems I'm rather more tired than I thought – perhaps you'd join me for a glass of champagne. Er, before the next dance," she added, a touch loudly, a touch pointedly, at the ceiling.