yearning dancer

Her time slot was free, the job seemed to offer good pay, and…heck, she even saw what she would have to do. So why is she stuck by the changing closet, hesitant to even give it a single try?

It must be some form of karma. Lene did think some of the student maids looked a little silly, stumbling over lines and falling out of character often. She thought that she could do better in the role. And well…here she is, totally unprepared to prove her point!

For a moment, the dancer considers slipping out from the cafe and ditching this job once and for all. But no, her supervisor would definitely notice the absence of a green-haired maid out there…curse her well-kept hairstyle!

Lene remains ducked in the corner of the employee section, but the appearance of a maid on duty finally gets her to squirm out just a little bit. Wasn’t that…?

“Psst! Hey!” Lene loudly whispers to the guy with silver hair. “Weren’t you working here all day yesterday? And now you’re doing another shift? So much for part-time…”

But it was hardly the important seeming point to Lene as she raises her voice mid-explanation, pulling Leif from his musings. Simultaneously does she combat Ares but also leap in to his defense. Leif listens to the whole of it, trying to piece together her side of the story against the side that the Black Knight had described to him.

“ So he was your protector even before you started traveling together in Lord Seliph's army? ”  Leif tries to follow it. He had been given the impression that they definitely knew each other well before their recruitment, but he didn't realize the nature of their relationship back then followed a similar routine too. He hadn't been given the impression Lene was one for the battlefield beforehand, but then again...

Leif couldn't say he really had any impression of Lene before now other than that the others enjoyed her dances and that she was important to the Black Knight. Very, very important.

“ If someone else was the one who broke the lock, and he says he didn't do anything to save you, I'm guessing he wasn't the one to defeat the enemies stationed at your castle. So... what he did was come back to your side? And that's what saved you?? ”

Boyish ignorance comes out here. He understands Ares's view if he indeed was following this recounting correctly. If it had been Leif and he hadn't defeated the enemies keeping those important to him locked away, if he hadn't been the one to find the key and unlock the door, he would struggle to believe he did anything either, and he would carry that frustration unresolved for the rest of his life.

“Some months before the fighting happened, Ares settled in Dahna with his merc group. We became good friends and for a bit…well, protector is one way to describe it. Some men aren’t satisfied after one dance. It just comes with the job. The castle lord - that creep in question, by the way - was one of those men. Ares burst into the room to protect me back then…though of course, he couldn’t do the same when duty called.”

Lene takes a step closer to Leif to signify the end of her preamble, putting them at normal conversing length.

“I have no clue if he fought alongside Seliph or could only return to Dahna after the battle finished. Heck, that book could have logged which Liberation Army man downed which mercenary or the lord. Even if that’s the truth, it doesn't matter to me.”

Another short step to close the distance.

“Before he left, I told him not to leave. Actually, back then…” Lene pauses with a light snort, “...I was the one to leave him first. That’s what got me captured. But no matter what he did or didn’t do after leaving Dahna, he came back. I know it sounds ridiculous. But to tell the truth, that is enough to confirm his devotion for me. My love did something that I couldn’t believe - he returned and never left me.”

And with one more step, Lene stands right under Leif’s own chin. The height difference isn’t as staggering in comparison to Ares, but she still stands a fair distance below. When she looks up to face the prince, swirls of deep emerald form in her eyes.

" enel,

before anything: do not write me about the stationery. it was not my choice. i ran out of the monastery-administered fare and this was all they had at the school market. DO. NOT. WRITE ME ABOUT IT.

now that that is out of the way...

it is reassuring to know that i am not speaking with a book hoarding savage. it disgusts me to think that there are people out there keeping the knowledge all to themselves while we 'lesser peons' are forced to sit around waiting for benignity to strike them. there are easier ways to get this done, but i would likely get kicked out for trying them. it is oftentimes the best solutions that are the most looked down upon.

[ there are dots surrounding the beginning word of this next paragraph. it tells of a deliberating pen continually tapping paper, as though the writer truly took some time coming up with an answer. ]

i cannot say i have truly attended any one of these showings; any business i have conducted in the country never came so close to the opera house. i will admit i have seen glimpses on my travels to and from the area---i assume that anyone with the coin to pay may attend a show, though the city is frequented mostly by nobility. songstresses have seen a steep decline since the king's killing order, so i assume dancing is the main show type these days.

nobility is very fickle. i should not like to be a part of it, but the majority of them are idiots and they pay good money. i will be content with keeping my nose out of their affairs.

and as for points, i don't think they actually care how quickly the letters meet their readers so long as they arrive. i like to be punctual; so long as your letter reaches me within three business days of my sending, i will not start any fires.

reminder: DO NOT MENTION THE STATIONERY IN YOUR NEXT LETTER.

Dear Fimbulvter!

Good to hear that slightly inconsistent times doesn’t mean immediate failure! To be honest, I wasn’t so scared of losing some points. I was more worried that it’d be disappointing to break our original streak. But three business days, you say! I can go for just that!

But, uhhhh the king kills???? Like the songstresses themselves or…no, I assume you’re talking about the songstresses. That’s not a good look, to say the least. A shame too. I was dreaming of bringing some friends or the kids to a big show. Pretty unrealistic since I don’t even know where it is, I know. But it doesn’t hurt to dream, does it?

Then again, a king that kills his dancers doesn’t sound like any place I’d like to visit. No wonder you’re out here and not back there!

Nobles…I get your points on them kinda. They have all of that money to throw out, and somehow I doubt the dancers get every single bullion that they earn. I grew up poor, having to work hard for every coin to get by. So of course I feel jealous about the nobility’s free pass in life.

But still! Not all of them are bad. One of my close friends is technically classified that way, although he didn’t grow up as one. And he’s a really good person! Sooo…I don’t think it’s right to put them under the same umbrella. I wonder, do you think the same way? Outside of dancer-killing kings. Yuck.

From Enel

Not to mention her mother's existence here. She glances over at Lene and wonders how she would even bring that up with her if she wanted to. Instead she dances around the subject. "Some of them I never would have expected to see."

Still, a chance to stroll in on Professor Altena’s class? How could she give no as an answer?

“Welll, I’m probably gonna focus hard on my own study spots first, but don’t be shocked to see a green groupie sitting near the front of your lecture! As long as being from the same place doesn’t throw off your style too hard, of course.”

Another joyous giggle and Lene jumps back to a previous point. “But hold on. A bunch of our friends are also here? And they take you back to the Liberation Army days…?”

She trails off momentarily. There is some mystery to how Altena dropped that middle line. She makes it sound like even more people from home - some she wouldn’t normally know about - are here too. Does the princess know something that she's refraining from sharing?

Who cares? There’s a more pressing issue with what she just said.

lyn. overall, lene reminds him of lyn, giving off flares of energy in efficient, reliable, charming bursts. it's a wonder he didn't make the connection sooner, with how closely their names align. although his body language is quite shy and stiff, a warmth remains in his eyes.

"oh..." his tone floats with a causal air, like that of a person examining their nails. "extreme would hardly phase me -- it's the cornerstone of my training. whatever the guru has us face, my magic allows me to work in harmony with some of the rawest powers known to man. with enough hard work, i'll be able to do something."

i guess you could say i'm not too worried, he intends to say -- but immediately, he stops. master pent, for all his pride in his pupil, would hardly appreciate such a boastful attitude from him. as well, he ought to keep himself from saying smug things within potential earshot of this guru...who, he can't help but notice, they still haven't seemed to find.

hm. for all he knows, 'earshot' might be miles away...

he takes the moment to walk ahead of her, only for long enough to hide whatever mixed expression he's sure is on his face. "this- is the direction we're meant to go in, right?"

She continues to walk back near a comfortable hearing distance for him. “I’m not really good with all of that book magic stuff. Will this guy actually pull up some kinda hex, all sage-like? And if they do…” Lene pauses for a small dynamic effect, feeling her smile widen, “...you wouldn’t mind helping me work in harmony too?”

While fun, she does not wait for a response to the rhetorical question, recognizing the uncertainty in his own query. “I think this is the way, yeah! All that flyer said was to ‘look for the vacant office upstairs.’ Like, sure…but I’m new here! I’m sure this place isn’t that big though. It shouldn't be that long until- hey!”

Lene veers off to Erk’s left once more, though this time she does not end up returning with dejected eyes. Pointing finger points to the top of the door, where a small message is pinned: Fear Guru.

He wanted to understand more about them, but he couldn’t get closer than a few steps before he was spotted by one of them. Probably quite the benefit, having eyeballs on literally every part of your body…

They were about to attack when Nils pulled out his flute. They looked at him with confusion (or. As confused as an eyeball creature can look) as he began to play his melody. It was soothing and soft, as he hoped to calm the storms raging in their hearts.

It seemed to be working, some of them beginning to fall asleep, others swaying to the gentle rhythm and.. enjoying themselves? That’s when he noticed a girl, a human. Despite being spotted, the creatures made no move to attack, too enchanted by his music. So he kept playing, for her sake as well.

It wasn’t until she was standing next to him that he stopped for a moment, gauging their reactions. The creatures were pacified for now, happy and calm.

“I’m not sure.. But I think they’re native to this island.” He knew as little as she did, but he was able to sense their emotion. “They were very angry, destroying these new buildings. It makes me think that… perhaps this was their home? Of sorts?”

His suggestion regarding the monsters is…kind of a stretch. But when Lene shifts her eyes over the rest of the eyes, she can see where he’s coming from. With most of their many, many eyelids closed shut, one could barely tell that something was up with the oversized balls.

“New buildings?” Lene squints and makes out a pile of rocky rubble nearby one of the resting eyeballs. “Oh, right. They’ve been sending us here to do some renovating. I guess those could’ve been some unnecessary additions to these guys’...home.”

It’s still so weird, just picturing monsters first off. Let alone them needing homes to return to. Though…they’re living just like her and him, yeah? Guess they couldn’t be that different from humans after all.

Time to speculate is little, though, as a few of the creatures have not been that strongly affected from listening (or seeing?) the player’s flute. Heart jumps to mirror Lene’s jump back in reasonable shock.

" enel,

it is apparent to me that you are rather... carefree in how you approach this. i am not sure how you would manage to get an anonymous letter sent to the wrong person if you give it to a third party. that is weird.

if you are not in the habit of sending letters, then allow me to offer a recommendation to start doing that. it is an important way to form connections with other people---connections that shall prove themselves useful over time. being someone with mercantile experience, having others to use rely on is invaluable. i am sure its usefulness applies elsewhere.

yes, i am aware of the situation with the library. i am currently attempting to remedy it, as are others in the monastery. if i may offer more advice, do not be someone who never returns their books to the library. if you do this, then not only are you withholding a book from a potential reader, you are just generally being annoying and people will not like you. if you prefer it when people like you, do not be a dirty book hoarder. and then people will like you!

[ the latter half of this paragraph is written with such intensity that turning over the letter shows the words embossed from pressure of pen tip. ]

dancing is your preferred mode of pastime? i see. where i am from, there are plenty of dancers. in the country bordering mine is a grand opera house, commonly used for shows put on by the king. i have only seen it once before as i do not live close by and do not often visit the country. oddly, it is set on the water. one would perhaps assume such a thing dangerous, but perhaps that is just how those people enjoy their song and dance. with copious amounts of water.

if everything goes how it should---which it ought to---this letter will arrive approximately twenty-four hours after your letter arrived to me. as such, i will sign off much as you have.

good night,

Dear Fimbulvetr!

You think I'm carefree? Good! That's what some of my friends see me as sometimes. I'm just glad that the same can be seen through my writing somehow.

That's fair, regarding the letters thing. The only one I really remember getting was from my husb close partner. They've been here for some time, away from home. But when they sent it to me a month or so ago, I made it to the academy as quick as I could to deliver my reply! A written response just didn't feel right to give back then. Though it'd probably have saved some money, but hey! I'm here now!

Back home, or well, a home different from the one above, I had to share the few books we got with the other children. So I guess I'm saying I'm already used to having to not hoard novels to myself! But I'll keep your advice in mind! I'm sure with people like you on the task, those books will be back in no time! :)

Dances down by a waterfront? That sounds really cool, actually! Most of my dances have only been complimented by the heat of desert winds. There being a bunch of dancers sounds very nice too!

Oh, but now you've got me curious. Do these dancers only do shows for the king? It's probably weird if that was the case, but like I just wanna know if the other people get to see a good show too. Just curious!

From Enel

He still has the journal containing his own records of the battles he had experienced, of every mistake and small victory he had achieved, all for the sake of due dilligence but also because he knows in a pinch, it has saved his neck before. The ability to go back and reference an old enemy's formation, any information at all...

...It could very well be the difference between life or death, and when one needs every soldier they can afford, even one more life saved for one more day is utterly crucial.

Listening to Lene's account of it, Leif digs up an old memory.

“ Huh. You paint Ares in a nicer picture than he did... ”  Their stories begin to meld now that he can recall the leonine man's words, but they are no perfect overlapping picture. He can see the edges where they don't quite seem to fit... Where the difference in their voices and how they speak come out all the more obviously.  “ He said he didn't do anything to save you. That he had to rely on the Liberation Army to bail you out... ”

It was a story of helplessness that had resonated with Leif back when he had first heard it, he can hardly believe he had almost forgotten it until now. But through Lene's eyes...

While she expected some pushback from her very, very abridged version of her first battle (of course, battles could never be that simple, could they?), cheeks partly redden in response to his recollection. It shouldn't come as a surprise that the men have discussed Ares' recruitment without her around. But they were always bickering initially in the Liberation Army...could they have spoken about this while at the academy?

"Oh! Uh, he really said all that?" her question comes out with a flustered tone. Within the testimony, Ares' vision of Lene as a saint does not go ignored, even if she doesn't bring it up.

She just cannot ignore the rest of Leif's implications.

"Well, he's not wrong when he says most of that. He wasn't there to stop that creep from locking me in the castle. And someone from the army broke the lock before he could return. And...I wouldn't have gotten locked up if he just stayed in the first place..."

Her eyes squint as she recollects that day. Potentially the worst day of her life: one where she nearly lost her closest friend and freedom in one fell swoop. But it was only "potentially" such for a reason.

Because he came back. Couldn't he see that was what mattered most?

"But!" Lene's pupils widen back up upon exclamation. "Ares is still wrong! He did something to save me in the end! He came back...late, yeah. But he came back to me in the end. So even if he said that, he's wrong there!"

no, really ---- he swears!

in fact, erk can say that he's enjoying lene's unexpected company so far. if he weren't so distracted with all of his personal musings, he would be responding to her kind conversation with equal enthusiasm, as he'd done with priscilla all those years ago. however, his thoughts have never broken their habit of stealing him away around strangers; they take him down a winding trail, contemplating so many futures that by the time she turns around, he's multiple layers deep.

at the sound of his name, he starts, having barely registered that she'd stopped in the first place. "oh-- well..." evaluating the accuracy of her words, he slowly sways his head from side to side. the light of the hall catches in the rippling shape of his hair. "if i get over my fears, i'll welcome that," he replies, with a barely-there smile. "but i would be happy just learning what they are. that's why i came to the academy -- to learn more. i survived a, um--" (how does one even begin to explain...?) "--a very unique incident on my home continent, some years ago. life's been boring since then... i have to find out what will challenge me."

class hasn't been working so far, he wants to add -- but it feels terribly rude to speak that way about their shared professors.

"You don't even know what they are?" Lene's prodding could easily be taken as a tease, but she makes sure her tone holds genuine interest. "I mean, that's not the weirdest thing. I probably dunno everything that spooks me myself! You think this pro guy can tell your fears with a single look? Like magic??"

Before continuing on and responding to his redirected question, Lene sidesteps left to glance at another passing door. Nope, not him either. Then she bounces back to the same position on the next beat.

"Me? Well, I can't really say what gets to me the most but...hey, wait a sec. Are you saying that I'm not brave enough?!"

Lene puts up her arms and balls hands into fists, pretending to look tough at her own accusation. Her hands do soften in grip when she's done acting, though. "But yeah, nothing big really stands out for me. I'm sure this guru can work with any challenges you have! Doesn't need to be extreme or anything."

From Erk's descriptions of home experiences, Lene is certain her classmate can think of something to test as a fear. She nearly thinks of asking him more about said incident, only to set it aside after another passive scan of his face. He's taller than her (it's easy for anyone to be at this point, honestly), but she's pretty sure this man is a few years behind her in age. If that happened "some years ago," like he says, then how much younger would he have been?

underneath the crack in the door sits a letter, delivered not too long ago by a third party. the envelope is a pristine, unbent white, selected from an array of stationary while simultaneously being rather unimposing. it is sealed with a nonspecific wax seal, red in color and bearing the typical mark of garreg mach postage---made by the stamp provided by the monastery's postage package.

inside is letter paper in much the same style as the envelope. it is not indicative of any particular person, so the source is hard to trace. it could be from anyone.

" to whom it may concern,

good morning, afternoon, or evening---whenever it is that you receive this letter. i was recently selected to participate in a program of anonymous letter exchange ("pen pals" as i believe they were called). it is likely we will not know each other, so i suppose it is a good opportunity to expand communications outward.

i do not know what kinds of details people put into these sorts of letters. nothing identifying, i'm sure. but then what else? is the burden of discussion placed upon the instigator? it would seem so.

so i will provide something. it won't be much, but it will be something; enough to justify writing this letter, anyways. i enjoy reading and magic. do you as well?

i cannot think of anything else, so i will end the letter now. goodbye.

Compared to the clean, inconspicuous text written on the first paper, this letter's handwriting is...scratchy. Some words and letters jut out from the lines meant to contain them, and the script in general is rather large. Despite it all, the letter is still (miracuously) legible.]

Dear Fimbulvetr!

Great to hear from you! They told my class us about the whole pen pals thing a couple days ago too! Guess you were who I pulled to be with, considering they told me to wait for a letter. If not? Uh, sorry?

To be honest with you, I haven't sent many of these things to others either. Never had the need to, since everyone I used to know was right in town! I've probably been given more letters than sending them out, and that's only considering recent times!

Reading and magic? That's cool! I mostly only do the former part. Magic has never really been my thing. But there's nothing wrong with a good book to read! Recently I've been reading...wait, shoot. The library's closed. I'm not reading anything right now!

Oh, and I should probably say what I enjoy. I'm a really great dancer!! Probably the best that you'd ever see. Oh, but I guess I can't really prove that through an anonymous letter...you believe me though, right?

Think that's a good start for now? If it isn't, maybe you won't even get this letter! Oh no! Hopefully you do!

Well anyway, I'm writing this in the evening, sooo I'll end off with a good night!

He thought he'd have learned enough of Lene's tells by now to discern the good signs from the bad, and her unbreakable staredown with the sea only looked worse and worse the longer it went.

When even her husband's direct question could barely pry her away, he was sure she was about to lay out some sort of subtle danger he'd entirely missed. So much so that when she instead swung her head around to offer her usual cheery brand of confidence, he was stunned silent.

All the words he'd been prepared to say had to be discarded, leaving him blinking widely for more while she downed the potion. A bit late to be asking, "Are you sure?" now that she'd done that, but he still had it at the tip of his tongue, before Lene's declaration answered it for him.

His heart settled, Ares looked between her and his own potion, before giving the former a high nod.

"That we will." One flick of his thumb knocked the stopper off, and he took his like a shot. He didn't give it the chance to more than graze his tongue, but what he did notice was...bizarrely flavorless. Like he'd just gulped air.

The bottle was definitely empty now though -- he even checked just to be sure he wasn't having some freak motor lapse -- so there was no more time or reason to think on it.

"I'll go first." To make sure this potion did what it was supposed to obviously, but also so that if it didn't, only one of them would suffer whatever happened instead. The other could help them back up, and he wasn't open for debate on who would do what.

With one hand on the edge of the boat and the other wrapped around burlap, he swung himself overboard. From the boatside perspective, it would look like he disappeared beneath the waves, but as the waters settled after the initial splash, you could clearly mark his figure by his blond hair. Underwater, it spread out like a fine web of faded gold to mark the center of his head, and from there you could trace the rest of his body...until you got to the bottom of his torso. The legs just seemed to vanish, but something dark was definitely moving where they should be.

Ares seemed just as curious about it, seemingly spinning himself in a small circle trying to catch it, but before it could clearly be made out, he breached the surface.

"Well...," he began without a single gasp punctuating his words, despite being underwater for a good couple minutes. "It certainly worked, though not in the way I was expecting."

That would explain his frown then, crooked from minor embarrassment, as well as his crossed arms -- which now sported spiny webbed fins. They protruded from his forearms and were black as night, which explained why they were much harder to see from above water, as well as...

Falling further on his back to float, a large and equally black, fishlike tail peeked above the water rather than legs.

"I didn't realize my legs would become the tail..." He looked at the thing like it had done him wrong somehow, and perhaps, by virtue of its similarities to another time his body had involuntarily become something black and scaly, it technically had.

But this was no out-of-body nightmare. He could put the tail away back under the water with ease, shaking his head to dispel those memories of when he was stuck as a spectator.

"No matter -- " Turning up towards Lene with a sigh, he cocked his head as if trying to pull her in, revealing both the gills on his neck and the spiny dorsal fin that now ran up part of his back.

It takes some minutes. Lene does not turn back, but she can tell the boat captain is staring her down with impatience. She doesn't care though. He is not part of their unbreakable team. Ares will come to get her when he's ready.

It is difficult to make out anything clearly under the waves, but she catches his mane spreading out as it swirls around a couple of times. The scene lifts her heart, curious if the swimming motion is his attempt of a brief dance. Whetever the case, he returns to the boat at last.

"You..." Lene begins after Ares' assesses himself. The man in front of her now contains features more fish than man. Prickly fins for arms, long tail to replace his legs, and compartments that must be the gills on his neck, just to name a few. If his face had changed any more in the transformation, would the dancer even recognize him as the same person?

She bursts into a small giggling fit. Not laughing at his expense, but at the potion's success. "...You look great! Awesome, even!"

Of course she would. The dark blacks of his features just screamed "Ares." Nothing could ever really change him to be unrecognizable.

When she is done with the giggles, Lene nods for Ares' head cocking, ready to join her dearest. She makes one final preperation, untying her hair ribbons and laying them down, before rising up for a dive. With green hair drooping down a medium length and net tossed around her shoulder, the dancer announces her next move.

"Alright!! Here goes!" And with that, she jumps right into the sea. Her landing point is adjacent to Ares, Lene almost urged to have asked him to catch her before taking the leap. But no, it would make more sense to hit the ocean first, so that the potion can take effect and allow her to swim-

...Swim?

In just one sudden realization, Lene's lifted heart sinks back to a low, cold state. The water that sprinkled her earlier now feels overwhelmingly cold as well.

It doesn't take long for her to start struggling after the fear sets in. She first tries the immediate solution that comes to mind: kicking. Lene pushes a foot forward, only to see (as best she can within the murky waters) that what was once her legs is now a single, pink tail. As beautiful as it looks, she has no idea how to force it to move against the sea's heavy pressure.

With her one hand not on the net, she then attempts to lift them toward the surface, hoping to lug herself up. However, it is of no use after she has wasted so much time already: the sea's top and Ares' own tail too far to reach. Lene notices a light green fin grown from the top of her knuckles, but once again has no idea how to properly utilize it.

The water's touch is unfamiliar. The water's grip is too strong. The water is all that she sees now, no matter where her head turns.

Her name falls from Diarmuid's lips before he's even properly processed that yes, she is here in front of him, and yes, she is being dragged along on this ride. The construction in his arms is forgotten, logs-and-boards tumbling from his arms, and he runs to her side in an instant. He does not care if such a thing gets him chastised by their cruel overseers - let them yell.

There are things more important than that, standing before him in glittering green and gold.

"Lene! You're really here," a smile warm as the sun that beats down on them but far gentler serves as punctuation, and he reaches out a hand to her, not-quite bridging the gap for a hug. "I, ah - well, I wouldn't say I was tricked. I thought - I hoped! - with my skillset, perhaps I could help more."

And look at where that got him. Hardly any good done of it.

"... I don't think they're going to be satisfied with anything we do, now!"

Ah, but what an awfully dreary way to play catch-up! He shoots his gaze around, looking for the supervisor - the current minor nobility running a power trip seems to be on the far end of where they're holding their little conversation.

A few minutes, then.

"And you? How'd you get involved in this, I wonder?"

"I tried to come as soon as I could!" Lene clasps one hand to her chest, with the other reaching out to hold onto his. Diarmuid's hand is rough and hard, no doubt due to all of the crummy work he's been through. Still, the touch of a close confidant never disappoints. "I know it took me longer than you...but I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!"

Her eyes follow his, taking notice of the noble-looking man off in the distance. She barely recalls who it was that put her up to this work, but he looks like a big shot nonetheless. Without words, she understands who they will need to look out for.

"That's horrible! Your skills are helping out a bunch, I'm sure of it," Lene reassures him, doubly confident after their sudden shoulder bash. If he still has the energy to push her around playfully like that, he couldn't be doing all that bad here.

"As for me? Well...they said that students had a free trip to this tropical island. It sounded cool! But then, they only thought to tell me afterwards that I was here for an assignment. And that's what got me stuck here!"

Lene groans, a smile still slightly on her face. From the sound of it, she really did get tricked to show up here. Just great!

Unless they genuinely didn't know? It would be one hell of a coincidence if so though.

“ I hadn't realized they'd already gotten a name for it though, but it definitely has to be the battles at the end of Gran Year 777. ”  Sure enough, when he looks closer, he sees the name he's expecting to see: Seliph Baldos Chalphy. In November, Leonster was beset by forces from House Friege.

That part he had all recognized, but...

There is doubt written all over Lene's voice. But at the same time, there is relief within her concerns, the chapter in front of them being definitive proof that their (and her) efforts have meant something. To people beyond their home continent.

Her former home being referred to as a...miracle, as well. One that is comparable to the first miracle that went on to save their land from the dark god. The whole ordeal is cathartic, in a sense.

The prince asking about the first part of that glorifying title is what shifts her attention away from the book and back to him. Oh, that's right. Leif and the other two only rendezvoused with them and Lord Seliph after the whole conflict at Dahna ended.

Uncontestable fact as it was, for he could see the remnants of it scattered about the hall, the shards and shrapnel of all those that had had a good time, or, perhaps, a less than ideal evening. 

He hoped that others had a good time, if he took the time to think about it in between sweeping up errant fairydust and litter and sequins, in between the shuffling about of furniture to grab the trash in hard-to-reach spots. He forced himself to think that it had been worth it for someone, at least, when he found himself looking up and into the light fixtures to find draped streamers and paraphernalia which should not have been airborne. 

"Ah!" 

The bump caught him more off-guard than the shouting – not because it disturbed his stance at all, the gentle press of a much-smaller body – but because in this huge and largely empty hall, of all the things for him not to notice he regretted a person being amongst them. 

He's too small to really be him, but...gods, they are sorta alike! Lene makes her final assessment. Both of them even have that nobleman-like kind of speech on lockdown. Makes sense though, considering Dimitri's full title implying his rank and title of house leader...

...Wait a minute. House leader? Blue Lions???

She just decked her own class' leader with her full body while straight-up admitting she was going to ditch work. He didn't hear that latter part, did he? Right??

Instinctively, Lene snaps her own hand on top of his with intent to snap away from his grasp. That is until he unleashes a strong yet gentle smile, one that she finds comfort in and forces her to respond in kind. Altena called him a "good guy." She wondered what exactly she meant by that, but now she gets the general gist.

"Uh...yes! I am here to help, Mister Dimitri!!" Lene declares with excessive spirit, hoping to drown out any doubts she had of assisting before. Being within this empty hall is still a major bummer...but she does have someone else helping out now. That does make the task the slightest bit bearable.

"Me? I'm Lene!" she sings her own name, never shy to admit who she is, especially to kind men. "I'm a dancer from Agustria...and a new member of your Blue Lions, actually! I've arrived a bit recently, but it is so great to meet you!"