sacred penance

Still, this was certainly proving to be a losing fight. From the resolve of her words to the stubbornness found on her face. Had they been anywhere else then she would have held her ground, but this was not the place. A heated disagreement over a mere body part. Giving way to such distraction could not only call the enemy to them anew but warrant a surprise attack that neither is ready for.

Slowly do her eyes grow downcast to avoid the heat of conviction in front of her. Her hand hesitant a moment longer before it slides down her arm far enough for her to get a good look at– “Your request is not something I can comply with.” Nothing. “For I have nothing to show.” There was proof that an injury had been made. Her white jacket and shirt below torn through. The color red staining the purity of the clothe. Yet the skin beneath showed no indication of ever being pierce to begin with.

Saber’s observation turns from compliment to warning, and it catches her off guard. “I…” She thinks of her team, her family. She thinks of their support even when they found out what Estelle is. She thinks of the rage in Yuri’s voice when she herself faltered when faced with her fate. “‘It’s okay if I have to die?’ I don’t want to hear that again.”

“I won’t do anything too reckless,” replies Estelle, shaking her head and refocusing her attention back onto Saber’s arm. Dying was not an option, not after everything, but explaining herself would take too long in such a dangerous surrounding.

Then surprise is plain on her face, (indeed, she is always something of an open book, especially at times like this) and she moves to lightly brush against the unmarred skin beneath the bloody stains of her sleeve. It is true, Estelle realizes. Nothing is there despite the obvious signs that something had been. And considering the way Saber had flinched only moments prior there is only one conclusion that jumps to mind: her wound has already healed.

But instead of launching into an interrogation about this mysterious self-healing power, Estelle deflates with relief. It relaxes her shoulders and brings a small smile to her lips. “Thank goodness.” she says, then lets her hand travel down to lightly grip Saber’s. “Let’s get out of here before more come back. If we head in that direction,” (a slight gesture with her sword-occupied hand), “we should reach the school in no time. You’ll be safe there.” Another smile and a tug are given as she begins forward.

Well he had time to do some exploring. Oh! Perhaps he should ask someone around to guide him. Yeah! It’s always a great way to meet people. So he was going to do that and well he spotted someone.

Oh wow, wasn’t she pretty. It was a quick thing Ulfur seemed to take a note of when he approached the young woman.

“Hey there! Mind guiding and showing me around? You see, I got kind of lost and somehow I found this amazing place!” He could ask a friend to help him out, but it was always refreshing to meet a new face.

While not out of place for her to stop and chat with other off-worlders and locals alike, it is not often that Estelle is called out to. Maybe because when she has her nose in a book, others tend to leave her to her business. Walking, reading, and talking is much too much for even the best multitasker, after all. Or maybe it's her quick thinking and eloquent introductions that always beat out the approach from others.

Whatever the reason, she's mildly startled to suddenly be on the other side of such interactions. Estelle turns to the boy addressing her, a surprised hand over her heart and green eyes wide as she takes in his explanation. But, sure enough, she relaxes into a smile that shows she's happy to be of service. "It would be my pleasure!"

                           well, fuck. she’ll just have to deal.

                           ❛   here you are.   ❜ jill gives a small acknowledging nod as she hands what is essentially a handwritten piece of paper, legible enough to read but definitely not anything fancy. it’s not even laminated.   ❛   sorry it’s not fancy. the last one …   ❜  she trails off to some distant memory of yesterday   &.    too many beers for some frat kids. a small grimace appears on her face.

                           but they’re long gone    &.    she hopes that she’ll never have to see their faces ever again. she may be a bartender, but even she has some standards. turning back to the pink-haired girl, she waves dismissively.   ❛  — anyways,   if you want a recommendation, you look like you’d enjoy something sweet: a fluffy dream or a sparkle star.   ❜

It's somewhat embarrassing to be identified for her sweet tooth by looks alone. And yet, she can't deny her favoritism towards desserts. Her cravings have driven her to sneak gels from her team's travel packs before - something she can't say she's particularly proud of. So maybe this time it would be good to find something outside her usual palate! Something she wouldn't have been able to get at home!

Unfortunately the more she reads over the drinks and their scrawled descriptions, the more lost she is. She had once read a book on distilling wine and another the aging process of ale and beer, but the vast majority of names fly over her head. Attention returning to the barkeep, Estelle acknowledges that the best person to suggest a drink to her is the one who makes them for a living.

It is hard to speak at first. Even harder when the distance left between vanishes. On reflex does she grab tighter to the wound at her arm. “It is nothing to worry on.” She tries her best to mislead as in time, there will be nothing to show of her injury except the stains of blood left behind from the first cut. This land had altered some things in her composition but her healing still remained in tact.

“Estelle… why are you here?” Quickly does she try to change the subject now, already hesitant upon seeing the determination in Estelle’s eyes on her well being.

Though she may be stubborn to a fault at times, it is all perfectly well intended. (Not that her desire to save people from harm hasn't backfired in the most tremendously horrible ways before, but that's beside the point).Estelle doesn't miss the moment in which Saber clutches her arm and the way it clashes with her dismissal of the topic all together. The princess purses her lips, discontent written clear across her face.

"It isn't right to stay indoors when I have the ability to help those in need. These things can be dangerous...as you know." The implication of her tone alone should be enough to guess at what Estelle is hinting at, but the hand that lays on top of the knight's gets rid of all doubts.

They chattered at her now with their jaws as if laughing in mockery towards her disposition. Her own face hardening in frustration as she grasped at her upper arm. Palm applying pressure to help quell the bleeding red across her white shirt.

She was meant to be a knight. To fight, to serve, to protect. And yet–

In her hand was only fear held. The last memory of her sword more a nightmare than a blissful dream. Filthy, ruined, honorableness, and nothing she wished to see again. While she had manifested here with little remnants of the war she escaped from. She not dare risk any sign of its return.

This is why she is stuck now against this grouping of skeletons like a simple civilian. One who lived simply off the thought of dodge. Dodge so she may live.

Poise, posture, and confidence: all things needed to traverse both the upper circles of nobility and harrowing battlefields. Though "princess" in title Estelle trained for years under one of the most prestigious knights the Empire had to offer. Following weeks of live combat, experience quickly honed her skills and calmed her nerves. Fighting is second nature now and, of course, she is ready to put that to use.

She has spent the whole day spiriting people to and from shelters. Fatigue drags down her pace and sweat dampens her forehead but still, she does not stop. Not when there is someone else who needs her.

The glyph that appears underfoot is bright even in the day time but the skeletons aren't distracted from their target. Good. Particles of silver and gold rise up and surround her - floating off into the air to dissipate and be replaced in a seemingly endless cycle. Eyes closed, even breathing, the subtle buzz of energy pouring out of her skin.

"Come, O silver light..."

Green gaze flashing with determination, slim sword raised high into the air. And then -

"Angel Ring!"

The arte employs the help of a wide, concentrated circle of light that drag all the skeletons together in one, neat, bone crunching heap. However such an attack is too simple to defeat them all in one go. Estelle is quick to descend upon the survivors, circulating through her martial attacks with well-timed and practiced ease. Star Stroke, Pierce Cluster, Marche Waltz. Each hit lands with its own graceful flash of gold and then - it's over. For now.

"Are you okay?" Estelle calls. Once the distance between them has closed, her free hand takes Saber's arm and softly tugs her even closer for a thorough inspection. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Estelle: A loser!

Flynn: Nice.

Granted, it was unlikely they held as much information of technology as the books on the SS Tetra, but it was the most likely place that would guide him and O in being…well, less lost. Though, he blinked in a mild surprise at seeing a rather large pile of books near the entrance: t’s practically a fort of them!

What if someone accidentally pulled a book from the bottom? It seems a little too dangerous to go stacking them like that to Tee, but his thoughts are placed aside as someone peeks around the veritable imposing tower of literature, asking how he was today.

“Rather lost and new to this place, in all honesty - do you have any books that would explain why I got taken here to this place, ma’am?”

O, meanwhile, hovers curiously a little bit towards the tower, but not too close. Yet.

To be honest, this isn’t the first time an off-worlder has come to the library in search of some sort of answer. How did they get here? How do they get back? How long will it take? Will we all spend the rest of our lives here? "Why me?" Sadly, Estelle has none of these answers among the many shelves she’s memorized.

“I’m sorry,” she says with all the regret she feels apparent in her tone. “We don’t have anything like that here. But we do have a selection of books and guides that are good resources for newcomers. Just a moment.” Shuffling off to the cart some feet away, Estelle deposits her load and makes a silent promise to return to them.

A girl.

It all happens so quickly Gladio doesn’t realize that his body is reacting until his bags are on the floor, and his arms are wound tightly around the girl, inches from the floor herself. “You all good?” he asks without hesitation, studying her face, before standing up straight and making sure she’s steady on her feet before removing his hands from around her waist. “I’m, uh, sorry about that. I should look where I’m going.”

Falling behind on one’s “to-do” list can, as she’s learning, become quite overwhelming. Devoting much of her time to the library means that her own chores are left for days off and frankly, there are other things she would rather be doing. But she has no maids, no butlers, not chefs in this city to take care of her needs. Nor does she have Brave Vesperia to split the duties with. So in order to give herself enough time for herself, Estelle keeps a quick pace and works on committing her shopping list to memory.

That is until she’s suddenly no longer upright and her body is ringing with the dull pains of an impact.

Thankfully Estelle hadn’t embarrassed herself by running into an avoidable inanimate object. Even more lucky, the man whose chest she had collided with was lightening fast and caught her before she had the chance to hit the ground. Still, Estelle is stunned and it isn’t until she’s upright and he’s apologized that she can find her voice.

Work, admittedly, is a new concept for Estelle. Maybe not technically but waitressing for a day and stepping into as a play's understudy don't really count in her mind. Employees are scheduled for days at a time and have ongoing responsibilities to their customers and their superiors, not just in passing. In a way finding a job was its own new, exhilarating adventure and now that she's secured her position as a library staff... Let's just say she always finds something to keep her busy.

Today particularly, she kept finding books strewn about the seats and shelves that were far away from their home. Though they have other members of their small team to reshelve the books, Estelle can't stand to see them tossed around so carelessly. Piling them higher and higher into her arms she sets out to find their rightful places.

From there it was simple. While she lived within the Snapdragon District her work called for her in a more calm area during brighter hours. Seeing that the weather was nice meant her travels would be a tad more crowded. Still she welcomes the company of strangers that made it impossible for her thoughts to drift. At times their own lives played for good entertainment in her own.

Now if she had not happened to pass through this particular park for a view on her way to work. Had she not stopped to see why a crowd was forming, this kind of interaction would never have happened.

More importantly Saber wouldn’t be caught staring.

“Ah…” Which is an act alone on her part that catches her off guard. Luckily she is not one to stumble with her words for long. “My apologies. I merely wished to know what had piqued the interest of others.” The show of a smile provokes her to step forward to help close the distance between for conversation.

The young woman across from her is shorter and more petite, and yet in spite of her social stumble she stands with graceful ease. Her upright posture and squared shoulders are a familiar sight to Estelle, given how ingrained such things are to upper society. As are her words of formal apology, though as she says them Estelle is inclined to wave them away. She hadn't been upset, (hell, it's not the first nor the last time people will stop to stare) just curious.

And of course, a sudden burst of light and the sound of chimes on the wind is typically enough to make anyone stop. "My 'magic' is pretty different from the locals'. It occasionally causes something of a spectacle," Estelle explains. Her voice is laced with laughter that hadn't quite made it out on its own and a smile that has yet to lose it's sincerity.

Eighteen years locked in a castle with nothing but books has a tendency to lead to a very vivid imagination. Of this, Estelle is certainly guilty. So guess her level of excitement when she first arrived to this city. Lights and sound and people every which way there is to turn. New and thrilling things around each and every corner. Things she never could have dreamed of - all laid out for her to explore.

Of course there were things she recognized from Terca Lumiries, too. Familiar things that in a new context were just as wondrous as the rest. But to be perfectly honest Estelle never had the chance to pass through the doors of a bar. Going on a world saving journey straight after running away from home didn't leave much room for late night drinking.

There is a first time of everything, though.

"Valhalla" stood out to her among the many names of bars and lounges she wanted to try because Estelle had loved the stories of valkeries as a young girl. The idea of strong, warrior women swooping down to lead only the most courageous of souls into the afterlife was awe inspiring in her very mundane life. These folktales are what fuel her initial expectations. What greets her is very different from what that earlier imagination whipped up but that's not to say the comparatively mellow vibes were bad. In fact, after a moment's hesitation, she decides it's rather inviting in its own subtle way.

Once upon a time, monsters were the only thing she had to fear stalking about in the night. Monsters and beasts, as aggressive towards their own kind as they were to humans. That she could handle. The calluses on her palms and the sword at her hip used to attest to that. But having never really experienced her home city of Zaphias left Estelle without any sense of urban danger. And here? Well, she hadn’t exactly arrived with a full arsenal of weaponry. 

So when she leaves work long after the sun has set, she thinks nothing of it. Only when half her journey home has passed do her senses prickle and she is forced to look over her shoulder one too many times. She knows eggbears and entelexeia don't roam freely in Septaneus but there is a familiar unease that washes over her all the same. Yet, given that nothing is overtly making its way over to eat her, proper strategy elludeds her.

Estelle glances across the street and sees only one other individual making their way along the this particular stretch of sidewalk. What the tall stranger was doing this late at night, she hadn't the faintest clue. But maybe he had a way to ward off whatever was trailing her. And so, the princess makes her way across the street and lets her footsteps mark her arrival alongside him.

For all her love of literature, the life of a storyteller is still not an easy one. There are days where her pen refuses to produce anything of worth and she ends up gazing out the window for hours on end. Or rather than daydreaming the light away, she'll see to other chores and tasks in hopes of giving her muse a rest, only to find herself in the same place when she sits herself down again. This is usually when frustration sets in; she can make short tales orally in practically no time at all, so why won't these blank pages fill themselves up? But rather than sit at home and stew over feelings of incompetence, Estelle pulls herself right up and prepares herself for an early evening out. Out where? Well, she usually figures that out as she goes.

Today she is left to wander where the universe takes her. She is conscious enough to steer clear of the larger city crowds, knowing that it will be hard to maneuver freely at this time of day. This leaves her turning towards Poinsettia Park in hopes that it will provide the breath of fresh air she needs. Eventually the quiet buzz of the city fades into the background and is replaced by the wind rustling through scattered trees and tall grass.

The lingering warmth of sunshine and the din of those enjoying their late afternoon successfully washes away all her writing woes. In fact, it might even be appropriate to say Estelle has found a bit of inspiration. She strolls with with a purposeful foot in front of the other now, two whole pages of her notebook swelling up with words as whimsical as the landscape itself. And there would've been more, if not for a crash and loud wailing that serve as a distraction.

It seems some kids had been carelessly playing with the standing metal dividers that, more typically, are used to bar anyone from stomping over newly planted flowers. One child is on the ground holding their arm close to their body, crying with pain that she immediately sympathizes with. Even after all this time Estelle is first and foremost concerned with the safety of those around her. It takes only a second for her to act.

"There, there. Don't cry," she coos with an understanding tone. Gentle hands pry the little boy's arm away from his body and his friends huddle around, shifting anxiously on their feet. Against the grand scheme of the sun set low in the sky, the light from First Aid is not all that extravagant but those in passing stop to watch as Estelle heals the shallow wound all the same. "See? All better!" Then, while reminding the kids that playing like that is dangerous and they need to be careful, most of what little of a crowd disperses and go back to what they were doing. There's one individual, however, that continues to watch her with what she thinks is a curious expression.

After waving goodbye to little ones, (of whom, run off in a way makes her worry) and rising back to her feet, Estelle turns her attention to the onlooker. A friendly smile overtakes her lips as she asks them, "Is there something I can help you with...?"

Estelle: In the fridge!