#sylphina

"[Name], you don't have to rush your recovery."

"With all due respect, I'm getting bored out of my mind just lying in the log, Syl."

Sylphina sighs as the Wanderer - a title that is now slapped onto the newcomer of her world - proceeds to try their third attempt in using their legs. It's only been less than 3 days since she found them awake and since then, the process has been going smoother than she thought.

Seeing how hard the Wanderer is trying to recover, with hands pressing against the trunk of a tree and feet shuffling in an effort to walk at least a lap around the large oak, she would describe the scene similar to a baby deer learning to walk after it's born.

When the Wanderer nearly slips, Sylphina reaches out with open arms. But they regain themselves, holding a hand out to stop her.

"I'm fine." They say, their voice strained with exhaustion.

"You're recovering much faster than most prophets already, [Name]." She reaches out again. "Let me help."

She places a hand on their bicep and [Name] flinches. Sylphina pulls back.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "are you alright?"

"No, I'm fine." [Name] sighs out a heavy breath, shakier than earlier. "Sorry, I...I just..."

Sylphina eyes them with concern. This hasn't been the first time [Name] has struggled to explain something, she suspects, related to the sort of life [Name] had. Sylphina hadn't touched them often, but even the lightest brush has left the Wanderer flinching or jerking back, like they're afraid of a burn.

The last person Sylphina recalls behaving like this is Enid, the only daughter of the Caespes family.

"Are you afraid of touch by any chance, [Name]?"

"No." The Wanderer answers. Then they frown, brows knitting. "Yes?" They shake their head. "I don't know. I...didn't have time to think about that."

The statement comes out uncertain. It's like the thought never crossed their mind. Sylphina can't help but ask.

"What did you have time for then?"

"You really don't want to know."

The words come out quick and stern. But Sylphina can tell; it's similar to how Maverick tries to downplay on the burden he had to bear when he first started out as the Duke.

"Not even a hobby?"

"I probably did have one." They pause in their attempts to walk and sighs, leaving one hand against the tree and the other wiping the sweat off their forehead. "Ditch those long time ago. Couldn't afford to waste more time."

"That..." Sylphina rolls her lips together, struggling for a decent enough word other than 'concerning'. "That doesn't seem particularly fun."

[Name] turns their head away from her. "Fun wasn't an option."

A glimpse of the world before. From the little she has heard and learned from the Wanderer, it wasn't a particularly nice place.

She still remembers that wide-eyed expression on the Wanderer's face. She has encountered a couple of prophets before, but they don't have the sort of look that [Name] had.

They were not just bewildered. They were amazed, enchanted and overwhelmed. They look as if it's the first time they have seen a blue sky.

Even recently, at times, Sylphina catches them watching the sunrise and sunset, like a child seeing a beautiful butterfly.

Fun wasn't an option, she hears their words echo at the back of her mind. They turned away but Sylphina can hear it; that hollow tone, a resignated fate.

It lights a fire on her heels. Moving closer, Sylphina proceeds to let the Wanderer's free arm wrap around her shoulder, jerking a response as they turn to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Your world may have been unforgiving," Sylphina tightens her grip on [Name]'s arm and midriff, "but I will not." She angles her head and smiles, watching the dumbfounded look on the Wanderer's face. "Let me help you. Please."

Ever since the Wanderer transmigrated here, Sylphina has seen harsh faces on them; tight-lipped responses, guarded expressions and distant interactions.

Yet here, under the glow of the afternoon sun, she sees a gaze much like how she had been years ago.

It's something raw and bruised. A hurt that is still there, under the shell that is holding on to keep everything together.

Then the Wanderer lowers their head, silent. Sylphina opens her mouth to ask, but the Wanderer beats her to it.

"Thank you."

The voice is said softly, one that Sylphina has to strain her ears to hear it. She smiles. She would pat them on the head if she could.

"It's no problem." Sylphina starts making the first step, guiding [Name] to the place where they must rest their body again. "Besides, how long do you honestly think it'll take for you to walk back before dinner? Certainly not on time."

"Hey, come on, crawling is a way too."

"Ah yes, I'm sure it's proper to eat with the entire front covered in dirt, grass and what have you."

A laugh comes out of [Name]. It isn't as joyful or loud as one would expect, but it is a start.

In her mind, Sylphina is already recalling what she could show [Name] in her county.