I don't want anyone to feel alone.

Chinatsu took a look back at Laurent, then shooing him inside. She took a hold of his hand as she took him around to see what the studio was like. It wasn’t much anything special, but the girl was proud of it and that’s was what made it important. 

It was a long rectangular building that needed some work and repairs here and there. Of course, the girl had something in mind to do something about it. As she walked and talked about each section of the studio, she pulled along the taller man with her. She pointed and explain about certain things. 

Once having finished doing all that, she guided him to the training room where she taught in. “Here we are. You can take a seat in one of those chairs.” She points out one of the chairs in the corner. “We’re still taking break, so if there’s anything to ask, let me know!”

Laurent’s steps were slow, careful - so when he was shooed inside, he hesitated a little, at least until his hand was held. Ah...it was reassuring, and it also helped him to feel he was in good hands, so to speak. That thought aside, he listened attentively to all the girl had to say about the studio and her teachings, nodding in evident interest as she guided him along.

…What kind of world would Robin be leaving behind if it was one in which the inhabitants didn’t know how important they were?

To hear that the others would say such things about Laurent – that they would, at any point, imply that the mage was annoying to be around – practically flabbergasted the tactician. In a time when everything weighed so heavily upon his shoulders, Laurent managed to reach out to him and bring to him moments of entertainment and a smile. Oh, certainly, it wasn’t the salve that answered for everything that the Mark of Grima dictated for him, and it would not ever take the place of his other half to stand at his side, but it, along with the other pieces of the Shepherds and the bonds he’d made within, allowed Robin a reminder of what exactly it was that he was fighting for, that the world was worth facing the fear and the inevitable nonexistence. In a way, it was liberating; and he did not want the world that he left behind for Chrom to be one filled with pain for people such as Laurent who did not deserve it.

Tears collected within the mage’s eyes, and Robin gripped onto his arms in order to grab his attention; a part of him would have been tempted to even hold the poor guy, as he saw him, like the others from the future, as one of the children, the second generation that they would be cultivating. He wanted to comfort him in a way that would not be unlike a parental figure, although he knew it not to be his place. He was no parent, certainly not to Laurent. He was hardly that much for Lucina and Morgan, and he did not want them to look up to the creature he really was. Still, that did not prevent him from wanting to bring a smile back to his face, just as Laurent had done for him.

❝… It’s the simple things that make all of this matter,❞ he murmured to the sobbing, what he saw as a boy in front of him. ❝Gods, but you’ve all been forced to try to grow up so fast… You have trouble understanding the value in anything other than war prowess.❞ He pitied them. He really did. He pitied them so badly that it hurt. And he especially pitied Laurent, as he did not even, as it appeared, get the support he needed from his fellow children. ❝Laurent… You can always get better at magic. Me being better at it than you now does not mean I will always be, nor does it mean that your own magic has no place within the Shepherds. As well, you can always become smarter, fight better, and gain new skills. There is never a time that you are unable to stop learning.

❝Except one.❞ He paused gravely, and his grip tightened. ❝And that is when you are dead and gone.❞

He allowed that to sink in, because it was important. In fact, he’d suggest these were the most important words that Laurent would ever hear. Robin didn’t know why they, in particular, resonated with him; it was as though he’d heard them sometime before. But it didn’t matter. He knew it to be a truth, and it was a truth Laurent dearly needed passed onto him. ❝Your magic can be changed… But you, as I said, are irreplaceable. You can get another Thoron tome. You can’t get another Laurent, as you are now. So please, don’t be in such a haste to rid yourself. I know that sounds hypocritical coming from me…❞ There’s the sad smile, the one that he’d been trying to keep off his face. ❝But… Maybe it’s strange, but I have trouble not seeing you as…too young for all of this. That you should never have been dragged into this war in the first place. That goes for all of you. Don’t short-change what makes you, you, Laurent. Don’t let war, or the other children for that matter, take that away from you.❞

Laurent’s broken, childish sobs continued: no wonder the mage kept his emotions so to himself and didn’t speak of them to friends, for the cries were really quite heart-wrenching. They sounded for all the world like a upset child’s tears: in reality, that was what they were, Robin was quite correct to call them as such. So distraught was Laurent that he didn’t even register the other grabbing him, but when the tactician spoke, that stilled the sobs for a while: at very least, the mage was coherent enough to do that much.

“What if...my childish, simple things aren’t enough? I...I don’t want anyone to suffer like I did. To feel lost and alone.” Shivering in evident fear of that, it was evident why Laurent so wished to sacrifice himself, beyond seeing himself as a burden: because he felt Robin leaving would make so many feel lost in that way. He knew this to be so, because he had been one of those feeling so uncertain at the other’s sacrifice.

That would remain unanswered for now, as the other continued on. Laurent sniffled, trying in vain to rub away those tears like they never happened - but he was too emotionally shaken to even try reconstructing that mask of his. He at least, held some coherency enough to listen politely as he would do usually with his mask intact: enough to hear what Robin had to say.

“I...you’re the first to say that to me in terms of people I know who aren’t family, you know that?” Laurent gave a shaky, sad smile. “Yet, even if it is only three people in the end...I...there is far too much sadness on your shoulders as it is, and I would not wish to place more, if you truly feel that way. I....I suppose for a man of science, I wear my heart too much on my sleeve...a dire weakness, especially with the horrors and harshness of war, I know.”

He shook his head, clearly also upset at his own weakness. Yet Robin claimed that was important as well.

The mage met his gaze, tear-filled and blurred as his vision now was from the tears fogging up his glasses. Leaving the stack of tomes alone, he bowed his head in deliberate action.

No words were spoken, there. 

Such a reassurance was expected and even reminded him of Chrom himself – a bittersweet reminder, as it squeezed all the tighter upon Robin’s heart and made him miss the exalt more. Chrom might not have always known what to say to reach out to Robin, and especially in the case of his identity, but he was still a loving presence that brought to him a sense of security that no one else would be able to. That wasn’t to say that the other Shepherds had very little value, and it was comforting to have Laurent here. It was comforting to hear words like those from his teammates, that they would never believe him to be a monster. Alas, it was the monster that he knew he was, a fate that he’d been born into and trapped from the moment of his creation.

He’d done much to smile in the face of the inevitable lack of existence, Naga’s words carried to him that he would be able to strike Grima down by his own hand, his own hand. Robin’s. That’s whose hand she’d been referring to. It’d gone on repeat within his head like an echo within a cave, and he’d been unable to erase the impression ever since. But to have it confirmed outright by one of the children… There was no doubt about what had happened, especially since Laurent made no attempt to deny it, and even suggested it was ‘his’ burden to carry.

He struggled with the smile now. Still, he kept his voice as even as he could manage it. ❝I have a tie with Grima, at the very least,❞ he said softly. ❝And…I thank you for confirming it. Naga said as much, but to hear directly that such efforts would not be fruitless…❞

He comforted himself with that, at least. That if– when he went back and he managed the sacrifice, it would not be in vain.

Before he could deliberate any longer on it, though, Laurent brought up taking the mantle for himself, and even further, suggested that no one would miss him. Drawn out of the Mark and his inevitable death and the way that fate twisted and turned him, his eyes widened as they lighted upon the younger man, and he frowned ever-so-deeply. ❝What– Don’t say that, Laurent!❞ He touched the other man’s shoulder. ❝Firstly, it is my responsibility, and I would not wish to push it upon anyone else. Secondly, of course you would be missed. What makes you think that you wouldn’t be? Because you are shy?❞ He shook his head in utter disbelief. ❝Lon’qu barely speaks, but you would not suggest he makes no impression, would you?

❝Laurent… I would miss you. You’re one of the few to make me laugh in a very trying time. You know that is no small feat, yes? It’s something I appreciate and remember every day.❞ And now a smile managed a place upon his face. ❝If you go, who would be around to show the world those entertaining tomes that you’ve dug up? If you go, who would be around to extrapolate every detail with your mother? You should know that you’re irreplaceable, Laurent. Don’t you think otherwise.❞

Laurent would have sighed and grumbled at the other still saying he was Grima: had he not been preoccupied with the proposal said. In the end, what right did he have to counter Robin’s arguments, someone who didn’t even register for most of the Sheperds sometimes: and when he did get noticed, they all yelled and said he was bothering them? He wanted them to feel happy and not alone as he had: but he noticed every time his friends told him he was bothering them.

If...if he truly bothered them so much, they would be better off without him, and only benefit from him leaving. At least, that was his thought. Still, to hear Robin admit that he was glad to hear efforts to end matters so everyone would be safe was a mild positive. At very least, a nice thing to hear before the end if he did sacrifice himself.

When Robin reacted in shock and horror to him saying as such...Laurent shook his head at the reason being because he was shy. “I...I am hardly noticed by majority of the Sheperds as is, and when I am, they tell me I am bothering them. Invisible one moment, shunned the next: if I am just a nobody or a bother anyway, I am sure they would all be glad to see the back of me.” He knew the sheer amount of Sheperds who pushed him away was large.

Yet when Robin himself admitted that he would miss him, Laurent seemed as if he would cry. “Why....why? I....I don’t understand...just for such a simple thing as that? When anyone else could show such tomes, and expand on detail with mother as I could? When I failed my travelling spell so bad I spent five years alone in the desert, and my magic could never hold a candle to yours? why...”

He shivers, and breaks down - that mask revealing nothing more than an over-emotional, lonely mage who cared too much for others. ...Even if it meant he himself got hurt, if his words of being affected so badly every time he got shunned were true, which they likely were.

“Oh, that’s true.” A sheepish smile. It seems that the girl had been very much absorbed into the conversation with Laurent. She forgot about bringing him inside for a small tour. 

She clapped her hands trying to psych herself up, “Okay, let’s go, let’s go!” A fist raised up in the air, she was definitely pumped up and ready to go. 

Chinatsu opened the door for the man, gesturing for him to go in first. “I’ll take you around to see what it’s like and you can watch a demonstration if you’d like!”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one to get sidetracked with the conversation - a soft, light chuckle of evident bemusement escaped the tall mage, both at the other noticing this and her enthusiasm. Such a lot of energy. It reminded him almost of a friend of his...how was Cynthia doing of late, he wondered?

Not that he would know, because she was off adventuring so much it made it hard to know where she may be next, but the similarity made him smile as well, and he walked in first through the door quite happily enough despite uncertainty because of it.

“I would appreciate that, yes - thank you. Please do so.”

The way that Laurent stiffened was telling. Robin’s gaze locked onto him, watching him carefully; despite the even tone that the mage used, he knew enough to know that he was just about as disconcerted by this time anomaly as he was. To hear that he was possibly from a different time from him altogether… That made sense to him. What surprised him was to hear that he’d been to this city before. He didn’t remember such a thing – but then, he hadn’t remembered something as important as Validar being his father. Such a fact did not remain outside the realm of possibility.

The part that struck Robin the most was that last statement.

‘… [T]he time I am from… Grima was gone already.’ 

It shook Robin to his core. Frozen did he become mid picking up a tome, which he toted within his arms after arranging a few back upon the desk. He stared at the desk itself, his heart pounding with something indescribable. An axe would hit lighter than that revelation, that there existed a time that Grima was gone entirely… And that the Laurent standing in front of him came directly from that time.

Like a tornado, warmth and chill clashed together chaotically within Robin’s chest. Warmth, because then he could regard Laurent’s time as peaceful, and that saving his own was not an impossible dream but something realistically achievable; with enough effort, Ylisse could be plunged into the peace it so rightfully deserved, so long as Robin managed a return there. Chrom and the others would be happy and safe, and they’d live out their days together.

Chill, because Robin had an inkling of an idea of what would be necessary for such a thing to happen.

He’d become resolved to the idea. A plan, etched into his mind like all his other plans, a plan that would allow him to have one final act and leave a lasting impact upon the world and the people from that world who gave him purpose. Chrom… He would keep him and his Shepherds from everlasting pain, and generations after to come, and for Robin it was a nice final conclusion. To wrap everything up in the end, a clean cut. He would stop inflicting a burden upon a world after a responsibility thrust upon him from birth.

But on the other hand, the idea of… The idea of non-existence terrified him. What lay beyond? At least with a natural death Robin could entertain the idea that he might be able to pass on to some kind of afterlife. But here? He’d be gone. No more nights at the garrison. No more mess hall. No more playing with spells. No more Lissa pranking him. No more silly ventures with Vaike that inspired exasperation. No more rallying his fellow Shepherds. No more standing beside them in the battlefield, knowing that they would be able to cover his back and he would theirs.

No more waking up beside Chrom in their bed, listening to a soft, ‘Good morning, my love, my Robin,’ every morning that made it impossible not to look forward to every day afterward, with the sense of completeness that Robin didn’t think he’d ever felt even before he lost his memories.

Gods, was it selfish? Was it selfish to know that he should die, to desire to die, to want to put an end to it all – and yet to feel like he hadn’t even yet allowed himself to live?

I want a normal life. I don’t want this. I don’t want–

A shuddering breath, and Robin managed to compose himself enough to speak, ❝I… I see.❞ He should be chiefly concerned about the temporal implications of all of this, but the weight that Laurent just dropped upon his chest stayed too heavy for him to think about much else. And in fact, it slipped into his voice as he said ever-so-softly, ❝So… I’m… Grima’s gone for good, then. We… We killed me.❞

He failed to notice he didn’t correct himself in that last sentence.

I don’t want to be Grima.

Laurent didn’t want to unearth such horrid, shaking truths: it hurt his soul more than anything to know he was possibly causing a friend pain. Their frowns and sadness jabbed like sharp blades to his very heart - yet to lie would have been even worse, and proven him an untrustworthy mage. He was no liar: and his friend and leader deserved to hear the truth, at least.

Besides that, if he hadn’t told him....someone else was bound to break the news, and Robin would only have been hurt further knowing he, Laurent, hid the truth in such a case. Such small things did very little to make the mage feel better. A silence heavier than the terrible weight settling into the mage’s soul descended on the library: an eerie silence that strung tight as a wound rope and hurt and tugged as much.

He wished there was something to break the silence, bring joy back to the situation - but the fact of the matter was that the whole matter was a serious one indeed. What was said could not be avoided, an inescapable truth - mere words and reassurances could not just instantly make that reality better.

Yet it did not halt the mage’s concern for his friend, and he frowned as Robin referred to Grima as himself. “Just because you share the same blood and are two different sides does not make you both mirror images. You, the person who stands in front of me... are Robin, the tactician of the Shepherds: a kind soul who looks out for friends. A stalwart friend who...does not deserve the burden that lays ahead, to be forced to make such a horrible choice.”

 He closed his eyes, a moment, before fixing Robin with a confident look, reaching to grasp his hand if his friend let him.

“If you so wish it...I would gladly take this burden from you. Nobody would miss anyone like me here anyway...there is nobody I know here, and I am...as you know, shy, and do not open to others easily.”

While Laurent simply passed over the mistaken identity, it still remained horrendously awkward. After all, Laurent was from the generation of children that they picked up – Robin was likely around the same age as his mother. The one that he’d mistaken Laurent for at first in addition to that was his very own husband. It was selling it short to say that such a mistake was incredibly embarrassing.

Still, he appreciated the mage’s delicacy, though it burdened his heart to know that Laurent had done so for the sake of ‘remembering friends’, speaking as though they’d be forgotten otherwise. It especially pinched at Robin because the one that Laurent mimicked in particular was Robin’s other half, the one that the tactician was incomplete without.

He decided to keep his hands occupied in order to swallow down the misery that accompanied that realization, latching only onto Laurent’s voice and the tomes that remained scattered at their feet… That was, until Laurent mentioned the length of time he’d been within this city.

❝… A few months?❞ Robin echoed in his surprise. Laurent wasn’t the type to lie, so it wasn’t doubt but confusion that he met his words with. ❝But…I just saw you. A few days ago. We…were getting ready to defeat Grima…❞

To defeat me, a traitorous part of Robin’s mind supplied, but he decided not to vocalize it. Besides, it wasn’t the important detail here. The fact that Laurent had been here for a few months and yet Robin remembered him being by his side much more recently was very disconcerting, to say the least.

Did the people who controlled this city have power over time and space itself…?

Picking up tomes and yet more tomes - Laurent’s gloved hands moved slowly and steadily: but he very nearly dropped a heavy dictionary on his own foot when Robin spoke next. Their tactician spoke as if the last time they saw him was only days ago, not months as Laurent knew it to be in Steci. He remembered the last time they had met, he had been so happy to see Robin alive and well after all happened.

The last part of the sentence explained it all, and the mage felt a cold, horrifying thought sink like lead into his very soul. Grima had not been defeated yet in that timeline. He’d been so afraid of something like this happening with the concept of other timelines and worlds: without one of the most important people there, what....what would happen to Yilesse without Robin there? Would that mean the sacrifices and pain everyone went through in ‘this’ Robin’s time would be for nothing? What of Robin’s beloved, Prince Chrom?

Or was time simply frozen in place, unable to move forward? Either way, he didn’t like the implications. “I....Robin.” Laurent’s voice remained steady, despite how worried he was: for not only the sake of everyone else, but his dear friend who he’d shared such nice tomes with. “You met me in Stella months ago, first thing...which I take to surmise, with the sheep’s ability to grasp those from differing worlds...you are from a different timeline from me altogether. Similar to how we were able to see different realms by stepping through the Outrealm Gate - you see, the time I am from....or was from, before I got dragged here - Grima was gone already.”

A pause, he musing: “I....understand if this is impossible to believe, but I would certainly not lie to you.” 

He just prayed to Naga Robin didn’t ask how Grima had been slain, in the end. The ‘how’ still made him sorrowful. 

Because, in his world....

As an inventor, he could have easily done the task using one of his inventions but it’s better to remain low-key in advertising himself, he wasn’t planning to grab attention and enslave himself to work for people 24/7. If anything, it’s more of a distraction from his actual projects, hence, some of the odd locations of the posters that are placed as far as he is allowed within the city.

Surprisingly, halfway on the task, his phone rang. It’s either a potential client or some residents who are ready to complain how he’s vandalizing their grounds. The latter thought alone made him feel like not answering the call at all. But as a risk-taker, he answered anyway. 

          “… Yes, it is yours truly.“ thank god it’s a client, ”As for the individual sales, it’s somewhat selective, but I’m open to hear out anyone’s ideas first before pitching in whether it’ll be possible or not. Would you like discuss it over the phone or would you prefer to talk in person? I’m currently around the central, if you know any center-point I’ll be glad to meet up.“

Ringing the inventor as planned, Laurent felt admittedly - a little hesitant about staying on the line, considering that the other mused of his services being quite selective. A simple librarian as himself may not be able to garner such high-class inventions as that, but...if he just hung up, that would be wasting the other’s time, which he certainly didn’t wish to do.

At very least, he could talk to the other and ask about it. When the topic of meeting in person or remaining on the phone came up, Laurent at least managed to exclaim: “O-on the phone’s preferable.” Because he was shy and terrible when it came to talking with strangers face to face.

To be fair, Robin had pulled out the bottom of tomes before without toppling the whole pile. Of course he would do it again within this library – he needed that particular tome, and he didn’t feel much like sifting through all of them just to get to one. He’d nearly succeeded, too, carefully wiggling the corners out; but before it could leave all the way, the rather tall stack decided to topple over with a rather loud cacophony to accompany it.

And of course, like a pendulum, the stack of books swung… Until they decided on his direction, and from there they buried him completely.

Just…lie down in a way that was submissive of his fate. Yep! No problem. No problem at aaaall.

To be honest, he might have just stayed that way for a good fifteen minutes, had a certain someone not arrive and startle the tactician from his place underneath the tomes.

The words struck a chord in him, and before Robin knew it he was already reacting– ❝Chrom–?❞ … Oh. That was definitely not Chrom right there. His heart lurched and his stomach felt cold; and then it burned hot with mortification as he cursed himself guiltily for not only mistaking the person who’d found him, but being disappointed at who it actually was.

After all, Laurent was a nice enough guy. And he was a Shepherd! Which was good news, indeed.

❝… Heh. Laurent! Sorry,❞ he greeted more calmly, albeit sheepishly. The lead continued to settle into his stomach; like it or not, he had been hoping it’d been the exalt, a lack of presence very much palpable and eating away at Robin as the day passed within this city. Truth be told, he came to the library to look for possible information that may be telling of his whereabouts and got carried away… But, well, he could console himself on this, at least. It was a familiar face, and that fact alone permitted the smile its keep. ❝I could use a hand here, truth be told…❞ After all, even the most cursory of a glance could reveal how much of a mess it was.

Robin scuffled more to his knees as he began to pick up some of the tomes, already expecting Laurent to join him. Before he could get too involved in the work (and admittedly, he really, really wanted to in order to clear his head), he couldn’t help but blurt, ❝I didn’t expect to see you here…❞ The relief seeped into his bones more as the words made that a more palpable reality. 

It had not been the first time, Laurent knew - that the stalwart one who stood by Chrom’s side majority of the time had been found lying down, nor did he fully expect it to be the last. Fate had a strange way of mimicking past events - if the older male mistakenly calling him by Chrom’s name for a moment because of the mimicked phrase was also indication. Truth be told: the mimicry was not just  for sake of a joke.

Laurent missed everyone at home as well, as anyone from Yilesse that had been here before that he knew of was no longer so, and he felt awfully alone: so the mimicry was partially also to keep some part of his friends with him and Robin so it wasn’t a repeat of those horrid five years in the desert. For him or Robin, because he hardly wished anyone to go through the same.

Thoughts aside, he shook his head with a gentle, somewhat bemused motion on the other apologizing. “You needn’t apologize: for the books or mistaken identity. Perhaps I recall others’s phrases too well - for that, I should be the one to apologize, but...it is something else tangible to recall by.”

His gaze flickered to the ground for a moment, downcast, but he swiftly recovered, trying to remain on topic.

Besides, he didn’t want to upset a friend. That aside, he bent to pick up some of the tomes as well, the sheep walking off to do their own thing and give them room to do so - when Robin admitted to not expecting him to be here. “I’ve...been here for a few months now, as shocking as that may sound. It’s....good to know you’re doing well and safe. This place is wonderful, yes, but...”

“Of course, we’ll start with the basics. No worries. I started with the basics when I first started. It took a long time from getting to where I am, but it’s all in hard work and wanting to better. It is a good idea to go slow and steady of course, I don’t want you to rush in things that you are not very used to yet. You’ll get hurt from doing so.” A nod to herself.

“Of course I wouldn’t, never against you. That’d be really rude of me!” She smiled while chuckling a little to herself.

“You are really a kind person, aren’t you Laurent? I’m sure it’ll help other people smile when they are feeling down as well.”

At very least - it is clear the teacher in front of him was one he’d had very good luck in happening to meet regarding his worries of training physical strength, for she was seemingly quite willing indeed to take things slow for a newer student as himself, and agreed with the points he had made. That was good: he’d been most worried that whoever was his teacher might expect him to rush through it.

Not that he expected it, but his easily worried mind tended to have a bad habit of thinking the worst. That said, it seemed his joke also was appreciated. Huzzah! A good thing.

“I c-certainly hope that is the case...oh, but, I’ve kept you talking too long. I should let you lead me to the classrooms, should I not?”

A small nod at Laurent’s explanation. Somehow being … a mage sounded… very complicated. “I see….. well, we could try some basic stuff to get you feel more comfortable doing psychical activity. It might help out when you are first starting out.” A comforting and reassuring smile from her.

Chinatsu looked a bit thoughtful for a few seconds and then nodded. “No worries! I’ll try to help you out with that. Plus I don’t see being a mage unreliable. If… I were from where you live, I suppose I would definitely fall short on my skills. I’m very much a psychical combat person. I would definitely got harmed often since I rely on kicking on punching. What if I were to get hit from behind?“ 

A light shrug with a mischievous grin, "It could happen!” She continues, “And yes, the rainbow spell? It was amazing. I loved it. It will be plenty good cheering someone up, don’t you think?”

“If you’re willing to start things simply, like a basic class: that would be good, yes. I feel that would be more suited to me rather than trying to tackle hard matters right away and expecting to be good at it when most likely I will struggle with something I am not incredibly skilled with: one thing at a time. Best to go slow and steady.” A sensible outlook.

Though, he seems placated a little from his worries by the reassurance. “While it may be fact that punching requires one to be careful - that’s not to say you would fall short. I think you’d do very well against those weak against physical maneuvers like mages such as myself - please don’t test that in actuality, though, haha.” He’s joking, he knows she wouldn’t, a bit of quirky humor there.

That being said, he managed a small smile. “That is....what I most hope for in my spells. To try and bring smiles and happiness to people - to know it made you smile truly is a blessing.”

✝ : every time he heard a sheep pun, he wanted to die just a little more. if that was possible at this point. 

“everything within this city is quite curious. each day i am greeted with things that i did not see yesterday. the spontaneity of it all makes my researching heart soar, but it also makes things harder to decode. i have been here for months, and there are still things i do not know.”

there was no way to deem if the people– or sheep, rather, that run this city are conventionally good or bad. for all they know, this could all be one big ploy to slowly eradicate the human race. everything was up to an individuals interpretation, and the true intentions of them will never be revealed. it was almost frustrating. 

analyzing aside, he trailed behind the other, hands folded behind his back as he gazed upon the books that were lined up so neatly. oh how he adored a good library. to get this job would be wonderful. 

If Laurent was the all-powerful type of mage who read minds as well as firing magic, he would have agreed that the constant sheep puns the inhabitants of this city made were a little bit on the nose and he internally sighed every time he had to read one aloud: but alas, he was not! Thereby, the other’s thoughts remained a mystery to the mage.

“It is as if...not only have the sheep taken folk from many differing realms, but also those of many differing social constructs, rules, myths and legends - they all come with their own histories, and it is quite fascinating. Granted, I am a person who studies to mainly make new things to help the world, but the matter is quite the intriguing one for potential study.”

Ah, but he’s going to risk rambling if he muses his mild curiosity about it here. He certainly has no desire to bore the other! The walk continued, and the two of them soon found their way in front of the door to the office - knocking twice, Laurent called. “Excuse me? Baa-bra? There is a potential worker wishing to inquire about taking a position here - are you free?” 

A low, reassuring baa came from behind the door, though a bit muffled. (She was used to being patient with Laurent’s constant nervous state, clearly.)