#nelithic

. . .

and in the next moment, calmly locates a familiar white head enjoying his own alley of the ballroom, and, without notice or greeting, presses the cup wordlessly into his hands, then steps quietly aside to take familiarity in his company.

　　　/ / /

( it's too sweet AKKLSSKGJ this is the wordless dinner table shuffling off of ur carrots onto ur siblings plate

The Ethereal Ball was once more at hand and unfailingly the same were the sore lack of culinary extremes. Dishes concocted by humans for humans could not remotely hope to satisfy Fell Dragons, particularly not one who preferred those made in a dozen times the usual quantity of sugar. His hunt through the confection table persisted until Nel's shadow fell upon him, the wordless transaction between sister and brother earning a spattering of red-eyed blinks and nothing more. Acclimation to such a sister meant knowing that she committed no act without reason. Said acclimation shifted seamlessly into trust as he sipped of the contents to reach his own answer.

"I see now why you have given this to me, sister." Now the abrupt exchange made sense, as if it were the product of a stinging disappointment. Taciturn disgruntlement certainly not at all to imagination where the Nel-worldly Rafal was concerned. Alternatively, it was precisely the imagination of it that whetted his amusement. "To you, what is inordinately sweet may as well be bitter. To be ambushed by such a burst of flavor, I would have liked to have seen the look on your face."

No matter his teasing the mug stayed its place in his hand. A taste too sweet for Nel was to Rafal just right; a welcome salvation that could be repurposed of sister's damnation; and as for what he had seen in the space at her side, perhaps yet to be discerned on the scale of those things. As the blanket of companionable silence settled over two halves with an old and homely weight, he sipped once more, spoke again only with the words tucked coyly behind a rim.

Alcryst is an empathetic* person.

Alcryst (Post Chapter 15) I’m worried about my brother’s state of mind. He can’t keep bottling his feelings up like this… Alcryst (Saphir A Support) It’s all right. I can tell it’s a fond memory. I’m happy that there are stories I’ve never heard from people who knew him. [...] Sorrow isn’t something that should be measured...or compared. I know you shared a special bond with my father as a royal soldier of Brodia. It’s important that we all take time to grieve. I know I am...and I hope you will too. Alcryst (Citrinne A Support) I’m not sure if it’s because we’re cousins or what, but...we have a lot in common. As you know, I find it...difficult...to accept my own worth. I see that same struggle in you. Alcryst (Celine B Support) Not at all. If you have another bad dream and want to talk about it, I'm always here. I can't make them go away, but... at the very least, you know you're not alone.

Alcryst has a fair handful of dialogue and conversations that have him trying to help others from a place of understanding. I'd like to think that he's very in touch with his own feelings and vulnerabilities and can recognize them in others.

* What he struggles with, and where the asterisk comes in, is empathy for the enemies. In Brodia, having empathy for the enemy can potentially weaken your resolve when the time comes to kill them—in the worst scenario, it could result in your death, or the deaths of others. Alcryst tries to turn his empathy off, resulting in an effective archer that's described to be merciless towards the enemy, who passionately objects to Ivy joining the team despite her initial attempts to make peace.

He finds her at the front of the ship. A few others linger around, gazing off at the sea stretching endlessly into the horizon as long as boredom will allow, but for the most part she stands apart from them, the figure of a sentinel unable to relinquish her vigilance for leisure. To say that Griss hadn't sought her out immediately would have been untrue, but he does so partly because of some relic of duty, and partly because she is a rare familiar shape here.

It's the former that he holds onto consciously, and yet the latter colors the unreserved way he approaches her.

"Yo, dragon!" he calls with a flash of teeth and bright eyes. He knows her name by now, but her rigidity inspires the opposite extreme in him, toeing the line of blasphemy for the thrill. Coming right up next to her, he drapes his arms over the bulwark to search the horizon for whatever she'd been looking for just a moment ago.

"Actually, sounds like they don't like dragons too much where we're going," he amends, although without any promise to call her by her name. Glancing at her sidelong, he tries to gauge her expression, but her face is like reading ink beneath ink so he gives up.

That's not what he'd come over here for anyway.

"I heard from Lord Rafal that you've got a few knights, but I've never seen 'em around," he continues. "You're looking at a fell disciple though. Serving Lord Sombron's kids is part of the job description." Not to protect, of course. As a human, Griss hardly entertained the idea that he was strong enough for that. But he, along with all the others who were gone now, had all been raised for one purpose: sacrifice.

"there you are."

if she sought to understand, the methods must be taken into her own hands.

it had been no shortage of expense on her part, deducing the figure and identity from a pair of names — andrei. naesala. candidly, she approaches the light-haired young man, counting herself fortunate to have come upon him relatively alone. even a fell dragon can guess when making such a conversation public would be uncomfortable for his sake. "you are andrei, yes? i am nel. i am aware we are not acquainted, but i would ask you a question." she tests the word in her mind before trying it aloud, sampling: "are you one called naesala's ' date ' ?"

Andrei recognizes Nel in passing — if the 'lessons' in the Abyss had been at all regular before Professor Lambert's arrival, perhaps they would've interacted more, but thus far he had deemed a nod as they passed by one another in the darkened halls of the monastery's underbelly a sufficient greeting. This is the first he's properly learned of her name, at any rate.

She approaches him, and he expects, to some extent, the sort of surreptitious exchange of knowing looks from one resident of the darkness to another. The shared understanding that they are not fully welcome here, that they must work to hide or ingratiate parts of themselves that no longer belong in the light, and that... he is the one called naesala's 'date'.

...What??

" Um," Andrei replies, eloquently, mind abruptly blank of a proper comeback from sheer shock.

(Did Professor Lambert spread this information among what passed for a teacher's lounge in the Abyss, after learning of it at record speeds???)

Vaguely, he is aware of the heat that begins to travel up his face, though he stubbornly presses on without any acknowledgement of the fact.

" And wh... what of it?" he asks, tone defensive, though he is unable to fully hide the mortified tremor from escaping in his words, " I take it this has become a topic of discussion, though I cannot fathom the reason why."

⟢　locating each of the bracelet emblems proves more difficult than she had anticipated in such a formal setting. nel had underestimated how different everyone could look, arrayed in scintillating ballroom attire and glittering accessories. for many, their hairstyle and overall appearance had undergone similar, seemingly drastic transformation as well. the young adrestian emperor edelgard is one such individual who seems to be someone else altogether when not dressed in the uniform nel had grown accustomed to seeing, with full-blooded aymr in hand.

"edel— ... hm."

and for that matter, the scene that greets her when she does locate her is also not what she had expected. the young woman is surrounded — perhaps ' cornered ' is more accurate — by two of the serving mice who hover close, trying to offer her water and towelettes out of apparent concern. though the young monarch does well to conceal it, she still looks disquieted. nel approaches more swiftly, parting the two murid attendants with her arrival. "emblem edelgard?" she instinctively reaches for a nearby chair. "is there something the matter?"

There is a certain irony in the rodents trying to offer assistance when their very presence is the root of her dismay in the first place. Her typical demeanor of a blunt, commanding to-be emperor pry's to dissipate at the sight. She will never allow it so, but the discomfort she feels when she shoos away their offerings sustains itself.

Whether or not it is the intent, Edelgard feels relief once her company of one turns into two and they are no longer breathing down her neck. A quiet sigh leaves glossed lips, quirking an eyebrow in turn. She has many titles in past and present, but 'emblem' has not counted itself among those numbers. Nonetheless, she leaves it be.

to see him here in such a place decorated by stars and gaiety after all of that — she struggles to put it fully to words. relief, perhaps, would be best. though she also cannot completely deny an imprint of envy.

nevertheless, she is not here for any of that. "i had thought an exchange of engagements would serve to commemorate our old alliance," she continues, extending her right hand with its zephyrous green brand upturned and visible. "i trust the evening has been to your liking."

' Emblem? '

Is that some newfangled way of saying 'marquess' Hector has yet to hear of? Society's trends are so wishy washy and fleeting that he's possessed of little care to keep up with them.

It is a little odd how familiarly this stranger greets him.

Is hers a face he's ineptly forgotten? He's so terribly out of his element this eve he'd not be surprised. He struggles internally just a moment, waging a fierce battle insofar as trying to remember where he might have met her before...

He concludes, with no small finality, that no, he has never before in his life so much as seen this dame, much less been introduced.

"And you as well," he answers seamlessly, after that whole debate has passed in a flash. Smooth.

' Old alliance. '

Okay, so! He hadn't been imagining things! Just who was this confounding woman?

He takes her hand nonetheless with the firm grip any would expect of him. He cares little for the flowers that brighten with the contact, instead focusing on her face, again searching, wondering--

they had mentioned a quiet, dark-skinned man in a luster of black and purple, though in their hysteria it had been difficult to discern whether they meant to say he was responsible or had simply been present for the apparent theft. the crickets had such a tinny, whining way of speaking that it had blended together to a singular chorus when they all did so at once.

"it is my understanding that you have some knowledge of this."

Zelkov couldn't place the person before him, though she seemed to somewhat know of him. He paused, hand on his chin. Was she implying he had taken them, or that he could craft some on the spot?

"Hmm. Perhaps with the *assistance* of the fairies in the boutique, I could feasibly make replacements. I am sorry to say I know *nothing* of the originals." He had to admit, observant as he was, he'd had a number of *interesting* encounters which had drawn his eyes elsewhere that night, away from the all observant post he was supposed to have.

Nil, Our sister is well. Though I suppose there is little meaning to such a disclosure. Wherever you are, there exists nothing too far or too hidden for your eyes. Even so, I am ever glad to be by Nel's side once more and even gladder to be able to express it. We are two halves of a whole, after all. One cannot be without the other. Together is how two twins ought to remain. I understand that now and knowing such is a blissful understanding like none other. So much as she shares my sentiments, so much as I am aware, there were moments I feared that she wouldn't. After her awakening we were separated at the crossroad between two worlds. At that time, I dreaded that Nel had decided to go elsewhere per intention. I to Elyos, and Nel to Fódlan. I would have found no fault in any lack of an accident, to be sure. I am her brother and yet not the one she has known. After our journey, there are still many words that continue to go unsaid between us. Questions that have yet to be answered. Here, in a different land, I keep from her my reasons; that was it not merely Nel that I had come seeking for, but a righteous death worthy of fulfilling my penitence. There is much I have yet to atone for. — Rafal