“Ow- What do you want, Sole? Can’t you see I’m busy?” you grumble, one hand moving to soothe the aching spot on your skin as you turn to look down at them.

Adenza replies, tilting their head curiously and speaking with a little smirk clear in their voice, “With tossing oranges? It did not seem too important that we couldn’t talk.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you from all the way down there over my terrible headache.”

The gold blood giggles, “Then I’ll come up to meet you, how’s that?”

“How about n--” You’re not even able to finish your refusal before their glassy wings have carried them up onto a tree branch beside you. They’re looking down at you, head hovering over yours. A big pout crosses your face as you push their shoulder, sitting up so they’re no longer looking down at you.

“Oops, too late,” Adenza says, already swinging their feet lazily.

You roll your eyes, turning properly now to look them right in their silver and orange eyes. “Ugh, fastidio, you’re my least favorite troll, you know?”

Adenza only continues to smile at you, until a moment passes and a mischievous look crosses their face, “Actually, I think you like me… don’t you, Otavah?”

Immediately you scoff, turning your head away from them indignantly and crossing your arms, “As if- I don’t get attached to people like the rest of you do.” And yet, there’s the faintest bit of blush dusting your cheeks when you say this. Frustratingly.

Adenza hums, mulling over your reply a moment, giving you enough time to shake off their comment and look back at them.

“Why do you phrase things like that?” They finally ask, expression more focused and discerning this time around. “Like you’re different from us?” Adenza’s eyes are brighter now, reflecting a flare of their inner light. One might call it symbolic of a burning curiosity, something that would only have a bittersweet irony down the line.

Immediately you tense a bit, giving them a wary look and closing yourself off slightly. “I didn’t say anything weird, mind your business.”

Gentle, that’s how you’d describe the way their next words came out, and understanding, too.

“It’s okay, Otavah. Do you want to know a secret?” they lean towards you slightly, like they’re about to whisper something to you.

You can’t help it, you’ve always been the curious type, so you lean in slightly as if to indicate that you did indeed wish to know it.

“I’m weird too.” Their smile is serene.

There’s not a second that passes before you roll your eyes and groan, “That’s hardly a secret! I already know you’re weird, even without the fact you’ve also got wings.”

“I mean I’m not a troll either, silly,” Their gaze falls down to their fingertips as a warm light glows from the surface of each one, then they flicker their gaze up at you. “I think I’m a star, like the ones in the sky.”

“Oh? And what makes you think you’re something as amazing as that? You’re just trying to seem better than me aren’t you- came here to rub that in my face or something?” You’re on your feet now, looking down at them as if to compensate for your sensitive ego being hurt.

“Being an alien is amazing too, you shouldn’t compare yourself to me so much.” They stand as well, regarding you with a playful air as if to ease your self-consciousness.

You blink in shock at their astute observation, not fully knowing how they could possibly know such a thing about you. “Wh- I- How did you know that, no one knows that!” 

After your childish outburst, you manage to realize the gravity of such a reveal. Mutants were barely tolerable around here, but an alien? You’re not strong enough to defend yourself yet--

“Don’t make me hurt you…” Your expression turns serious- or as serious as an inexperienced with combat child can muster, anyway, and you raise your hands up in a defensive position.

“I won’t tell, I promise.” They assure you, hands outstretched slightly in your direction.

“How do I know that? You’ve always disliked me-” You rebut quickly.

Adenza’s expression turns somber, which isn’t all that special except for the fact they’ve never directed it towards you before. “You’re my friend, Otavah.”

The admission causes your hands to fall and your expression to settle a little. “You have to make a deal with me, then I’ll believe you.”

“A deal? ...Do I get anything out of it?”

That gives you pause, your face scrunching as you think before you make a quiet little ‘oh!’ of realization to yourself. “I won’t harm you! You promise me you won’t tell, I promise I won’t harm you.”

“Ever?” They question you, surprised.

“Sure, why not-- But you have to promise seriously, handshake and everything, that’s how the magic works.” You say completely seriously, immediately extending your hand to them, urgent with the want to secure your secret… and not yet aware that you didn’t need to hold hands about it.

“It’s a deal then.” they smile brightly as they grab your hand and shake it, now forced to keep your secret to themself.

That being said, it wouldn’t kill him not to fly 15 feet up in the air, where the only one who could fight properly was him. Even he could admit things might get boring in that case, no matter how much the General loved playing a little dirty.

As the two men step up to take their opposing spots in the ring, their eyes meet. Seifer shakes his head slightly to knock his poof of a ponytail over his shoulder to rest against his back, then brings both of his weapons up in a readied stance.

Meanwhile, Otavah puts out both of his arms straight in front of him, rotating them in a swift motion so they cross over each other, hands now gripping an apparated pole blade and untwisting with a flourish to be in a more battle-ready position. It was hard to deny that despite how extra he was in everything he did, it was rather impressive to watch.

Seifer's mind wasn’t particularly focused on that aspect of things, although that didn’t stop Leiere, a member of his own squad, from cheering out, “Woohoo! Go, General! Kick his ass!” with all four of his arms fist pumping in the air for added emphasis.

Seeing the pleased and smug look that came over Otavah’s face was enough to make Seifer playfully roll his eyes. “Thanks for the damn vote of confidence, Lee! The support is noted!”

In that brief moment of distraction, Otavah already starts to play. Large, shimmering wings flit in small movements to aid in his languid approach. Seifer only has a moment to react to the pole blade curving up for his jaw, his arm twitching into a reaction to parry with his dagger. The metal clashes loudly, and several of the crew members around hoot and holler at the clutch counter.

There’s a brief pause where ringed violet eyes meet bronze crescents and General Minera laughs. Though the two of them are holding against each other in a seemingly effortless display, both are exerting enough strength to keep their strifes pressed together with a slight tremble on both sides.

“Already playing dirty, Otavah? I expected better.” Seifer says through a smile.

“Did you now? Your mistake, then, Celeste.” he retorts, a matching smile set on his own features.

In their brief back and forth, Seifer had moved his other hand slowly up, only to then bring it down in a swift move to try and slice into his combatant's shoulder. Otavah doesn’t even look toward the incoming threat as his wings flutter, allowing him to shift his shoulder back and away from harm. Without pause, he follows the movement up with a rotation of his blade to the left, forcing the sword into the ground.

“Shit-” is all Seifer has time to say before he has to make an evasive maneuver of his own, bending back at the waist to try and dodge the pole as it comes back for the upswing to the right. His reaction is only a fraction too late, but it’s enough that the weapon draws a small cut into his jaw, letting neon violet drops fly into the air.

At the first draw of blood, there are wide eyes and even more cheers from the onlookers. Things continue this way for a while, easily for over twenty minutes, as the two narrowly dodge each other's well-timed movements- or they seemingly fail to account for something, and they acquire a knick from one of the various weapons at play.

Moments occur where Seifer can feel the haze of magic buzzing around certain movements, but he keeps his mouth shut and allows himself moments of pride when his skills seem to keep him level with the mild fuckery afoot. Those continued moments of added confidence eventually become Seifer’s downfall, however, as his eyes track a repeated movement that the General had been using to go for a chest hit.

Seifer moves to parry it as he had in previous times, but the blade never actually makes contact with his dagger, and he notices the change too late.

Using a dancer's step, Otavah suddenly pivots in a spin to Seifer’s left, letting his right leg slide along the floor to bring him down low where his pole blade then sweeps behind his Lieutenants legs and knocks him down onto his back with a resounding thud. As the air comes back to Seifer’s lungs, he sees the tip of his opponent's blade hovering over his chest.

Several voices let out ‘ooh’s’ of sympathy, and a couple of others suck in air through their teeth at the sound. Just as many others also offer up a round of cheers or applause for the performance that the two of them gave.

“I believe you’ve lost, my dearest lieutenant.”

“Yeah, well,” A grunt as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, “I’d say I did pretty good given the integrity of my opponent, wouldn’t you?”

Another rich chuckle escapes his superior at that. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were insulting me, Seifer.”

Otavah pulls his blade away and vanishes it off to gods only knows where before reaching out an olive branch of assistance: offering to help Seifer up. The violet reaches up to take it before it suddenly gets pulled away from reach. Another roll of Seifer's eyes, “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”

The Generals eyes glitter in amusement before reextending his hand. “Only messing with you my friend, no tricks this time.”

A skeptical look levels itself at Otavah for a long moment before Seifer, once again, reaches out to take their hand, and this time he makes contact, smacking their hands together audibly as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Alright, I’m gonna go take one hell of a power nap, if you don’t mind, General.” With that comment, Seifer begins to take his leave, followed quickly by Leiere- who was about to start chatting him up, before a voice calls after them both.

“By all means, Lieutenant,” they shrug, relaxed as always, “but don’t forget that your group is scheduled for a scouting mission at o-800 sharp!”

You shake your head to clear out the recollection and focus on addressing the present, letting the chime of your chains calm your elevated heart rate. You exhale, then open the large wooden doors before you, keeping your hands raised in a defensive position as soon as you finish. You know they have a guard of some kind and you didn’t live this long only to get skewered by some overprotective delusional fool.

“Adenza, I need to speak with you, it’s…” You hesitate as your half-moon gaze flits upward to the radiant figure lounging on the altar ahead, taking in the devil you just thought of. Mentally, you know that they wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, but you’re still too bitter to care how they feel about anything. Finally, the end of your sentence slips out in a murmur, “...It’s your old friend, I need something.”

The gold bloods gaze has been on you since you entered and their expression is as unreadable as you expected. They’re smiling faintly, of course, but that doesn’t really mean anything. You don’t see their guard at this moment and you thank the stars for that because the faster you’re done here the better. You hate seeing this.

“Ah, Tavian, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you and we have spoken to one another. I would have visited you, but our home was gone by the time I returned.”

The way with which they mention it so casually irritates you and you wonder if they care. You know they may have, once, a long time ago before they blinded themself with their own luminous ego. “Yes, well, shame it is to say, I’m not here to reminisce or catch up. I need you to remove whatever you’re doing to the Blue that came to me the other night. It’s preventing me from my work and I’m sure you can imagine how un-fun that is for me.” You’ve closed your wings, but have yet to put them away, just in case they don’t take kindly to your demands and you need to make an escape. You don’t trust this place.

Adenza frowns. You aren’t sure exactly what that means, since you haven’t peered in on them in some time, but it definitely makes you nervous.

“Yes, I know to whom you are referring.”

That does not bode well, even still after all these sweeps, you know a short sentence from someone like Adenza can be a bad sign. A touch of sweat beads on your forehead when you see their giant bodyguard come from behind and loom over them to glare at you, even from this distance his tall and muscular stature intimidates you. You have to bite back your normal cheeky replies and instead schmooze. This feels so beneath you, but you know you probably can’t fend off both of them, you’re just not built for that.

“Look, Your Lustrousness, I did not know they were one of yours before accepting their request. I am trying to get this over with as quickly and easily as possible, what’s one follower for a quick chat with an old friend anyway?” This isn’t you, well, not the way you speak and it certainly isn’t the way you feel about any of this, but you’re no idiot, so you just hold your tongue for now.

Their smile returns a little as they reply, “You are right Tavian, let me offer you this extension of goodwill, if I may. I would hate for us to be on bad terms after our growing up together.” They look over their shoulder at their-- Mate? Bodyguard? …Assistant? You’re still not completely sure-- And then they give a small nod. Before long the blue you were locked into an exchange with is brought forward to stand in front of Adenza, facing you.

This action gives you the worst feeling you’ve had since you arrived here, but you decide to wait for them to do as you asked and keep your mouth shut.

Adenza sits up with a wince, yet seems unimpeded by it as they outstretch their hands to be on either side of the blue-bloods head. Their eyes begin to glow with warm radiant light, one that usually inspires awe but to you only brings out discomfort.

After a moment their nose begins to bleed. You think that’s the worst of it but then the Blue’s eyes begin to bleed and they cry out, falling to their knees in pain.

“All taken care of, now please, take them with you and be on your way for the evening Tavian, I must retire…”

You’re frozen for a moment before your brain finally catches up with what just happened. It only takes another second before you swoop in and grab the injured troll, ushering them outside with you as quickly as you can.

‘Where could this have come from? Is someone here?’

Although your anxiety was now beginning to rise in the back of your mind, you choose to let your curiosity guide you while it still overtook your fears, grabbing the foreign parchment from the floor. With a nervous exhale you pull your hair from your face and tie it up, taking advantage of what little vision your other eye offers as you unfurl the scroll to read what-- if anything-- it might say.

To say the contents surprise you would be an understatement.

It reads: “Hello little Mercur--”

Your anxiety spikes at reading that name, ‘How do they know-- No! You must remain calm… there’s surely a rational explanation, as there always is.’

You press on and begin to read again, unable to let your questions and fears go unanswered.

“Hello little Mercur, I know you very well and it seems that you are starting to learn of me, now aren’t you?” “I do not plan to interfere with you or your work, however, I thought I could offer you a treat since you entertain me so often. I am fond of trading you see, so this will be simple: I’ll offer you the chance to ask me anything you’d like to know about me and I will answer it for you, as my part of this unspoken Exchange. No need to fret my little descendant, your half of this is already done, so you only stand to gain from our interaction.”

You feel your vision blur, your mind is racing with far too many thoughts to even parse them all yourself. You are exhausted from your nights' work and yet on such a rush of adrenaline that surely sleeping will be evading you today. Before you allow yourself to ask the obvious question at the forefront of your mind, you continue reading.

“Now I’m sure this whole process and its workings will evade you but! To ask me your question, all you must do is write your inquiry on the space below-- and do not doubt me, I am more powerful than you will ever know, Little Juli.”

You ignore how uncomfortable hearing that nickname feels and why it makes you tense up and focus instead on his implication. What a preposterous claim… at least, that’s your initial thought before you remember just how old this troll must be and the fact he was able to get this to you unseen in the first place. There’s no time to waste, not in your world, so you decide to humor it and see if anything really does happen.

You take your pen from earlier and write out ‘How have you lived so long?’ You want to tack on a hundred other questions, but a part of you knows they will go unanswered, so you refrain. Once the question mark is placed upon the paper it evaporates into a brownish mist. You have no time to react before it appears back in your hands once more in that same breeze as it had only minutes ago.

A stunned blink is all you can muster, eyes wide and brows raised, as the additional words before you read ‘Magic, young Julian. Something you will never have.’