@yumispelled Corrin is about to meet a new chew toy friend
Fighting the forces of Hel was never really something one could just get used to. To be frank it was tiring! All these foes were dead, they didn’t need to worry about pain or getting tired like they did. And she was getting tired. Yato was getting heavy, her movements were getting sluggish, and she was starting to get too thick into the fight.
She had her friends behind her, of course, but, well, that was the thing: behind her. She was outpacing them, of course she was. Ever eager to prove herself and pull her weight and keep them safe, no matter how little she was familiar with her allies. Hubris? Some would call it that. Naivety? Perhaps a bit of that, too.
There was a cry from the back ranks. A scout had spotted the generals of Hel’s army making their way to the frontlines. She wasn’t going to hold against that, not without-
She stabbed the foe in front of her and finished them off, and brushed back her hair, “Alright, you can do this, Corrin.” She had to quickly raise her blade to intercept a blow, but the haphazard defense let it graze her shoulder. Cut them down, deep breath, get a grip. “You got this, it’ll be okay, you can- you can do this it’s- oh I should stop blathering to myself!”
One moment her dragonstone was tossed in the air, and a burst of radiant light later a dragon charged.
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A jaunty laugh. “Now now, arguing implies I’m being uncivil about it. I understand some people need a little help understanding, no shame in that.”
And as for the other statement: “I mean, it’s a rather bold presumption that I would be wrong. As a perfect example in every way, shape, and form, I think you’d be hard pressed for a moment where I would be.”
“Papa! Papa!” The little Elezen was only four summers old, and yet she already stood taller than her Grandfather’s finest pupil. Alisaie ignored the swishing fabrics that hung awkwardly between knee and ankle (they had been to the tops of her shoes just two moons ago!) and ran towards the Thaumaturge.
“Papa!” One day, she would be able to say his full name. Until then, she would just repeat the first two syllables. She knelt down and wrapped thin arms around the Lalafel, much to both Louisoix’s amusement and Forchunalt’s ire and embarrassment.
“Are you staying this time, Papa?” She loved it when her Grandfather’s pupils came to stay in Sharlayan! They were so fascinating! So fun! And Papalymo was so small! It felt nice, having someone close to her height. Urianger was just so... tall...
lucina wiped her hands off on her pants . this , what used to be the temple of duma back during the days of marth and heroes , was little more than ruins now -- she had to vault herself over fallen pillars and fear for the structural integrity ... but it wasn’t enough to set aside her curiosity .
kneeling down , lucina pulled a map from her bag , pressing it flat on the floor . so this is the main area of worship ... she thought . it would be as good enough of a place to hide the falchion as any . and hidden it would stay , she’d had to pay a hefty price for this little , ancient trinket , and the shopkeep had only barely refrained from laughing in her face .
❛ no one goes near that place , sweetheart !!
don’tcha know it’s haunted ? ❜
every local had had the same thing to say about this place . some chuckled the danger away with fear in their eyes , others were outright distraught that she was thinking of visiting .
❛ as if i would believe in something so obviously a cradle tale ... ❜ she mumbled to herself . it was clearly just a way to keep children away from the rubble , that had worked too well .
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Cyrus was every bit as relieved to see Therion feeling well enough to walk as he was mortified that Therion had gotten out of bed in the first place. He would have jumped out of bed and forced him back to his room if he had any choice, but as it stood, Cyrus just frowned deeply at him.
“I’m--” He was about to claim to be fine, but that would’ve been a blatant lie. “I’m better than before, but what of you? You should be lying down.”
Even though moving was neither easy nor comfortable, Cyrus reached out to gently grasp Therion’s arm. “Please... take care of yourself. I’m worried about you.”
how do you feel about your childhood friends? (Celica plus the ram squad)
How do you feel about…? | Accepting
“My childhood friends, huh?” Alm echoes, ghost of a smile turning into a fully genuine one as his gaze falls to his feet. “There’s so much I could just say… about all of them, really.”
Their laughs, their sorrow, what he loved about them, what drove him mad about them… they were all special to him, a part of his heart, a piece of home that never felt quite right if they were apart.
Maybe it’s why it hurt so much when Celica left. When Kliff left. Different kinds of pains, sure, but the uncertainty that gripped his heart then and grips his heart now is oh so very discomforting.
“They’re… special. Wonderful. They’re like… they’re the closest thing I have to a family aside from Grandfather. In… in different ways, each one, but…”
But, in the end, they all mattered.
“Let’s start with Tobin. He’s…” For a moment, he struggles, as if trying to fish for words. “He’s a treasure, really.”
Fond eyes pull away from the ground, and he turns to gaze to the right, thoughtful, as if trying to recall memories. “He tries so hard to prove himself— and to provide for his family. He… he loves them a lot, you know? His parents, his siblings… he puts so much work in what he does just so he can keep them all afloat. It’s… it’s a big responsibility, and a heavy burden to bear.” His fond smile turns sad, almost forlorn. “I wish he’d let me help. They’re… important to me, too. His family, and… well, and him. He works himself too hard sometimes, and I know he wants to feel like he earned it, but…”
‘Gods, please, let me help you.’
“He’s… he’s a wonderful friend, too. He’s… looked out for me and how I feel, always tried to steer me towards a path where I wouldn’t get hurt. He encouraged me to say goodbye to Grandfather, he… wanted for me to be able to apologize to Celica when we had our fight.” And the thought makes him smile. “He’s such a good friend… when I can’t help him, it makes me feel bad. I… I even feel bad for not believing him, you know? When he said he couldn’t lift the sword…”
So much of his pain could have been avoided, if he had just…let himself think of the possibility that he had been lied to. If he had… allowed himself to figure out his heritage. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so… so…
“… Tobin’s very important to me.”
Oh. Right. He coughs into his hand and laughs, shaking his head and looking ahead. “Wow… and I have four other friends to go! Well, uh… Gray…”
And, once more, Alm trails off and looks to the side, only for a small chuckle to interrupt him. One that turns into a laugh, lips parting into a genuine smile. “I really looked up to Gray, you know!” He says as his laughter trails. “So world-savvy, so traveled… he knew of a world I could only really dream of, a world I had only heard about from the stories him, Mycen and Celica told me about.” It was a different time. It was… it was almost difficult to remember, what it was like to not have seen the world. How the world used to look like, in his mind’s eye.
“Even after we left, you know, he was always so… confident, you know? Kept me out of trouble, too, whenever I wandered around in a town trying to get supplies for the Deliverance. Made sure no one hoodwinked me and the like.” He wasn’t sure what he would have done without Gray. “He always acted like he knew what he was talking about— I used to think he was full of hot air, but, well… I’ve learned since.”
Sometimes, it’s just how you survive out there, especially as a commoner.
“He’s also looked out for me, just as much as Tobin has. They both… they tried to keep me on the ground, remind me of where we came from, you know? Of what we had been put through when we were kids. Of our limits. Of course, I… later on we found it was…” Once more, Alm trails off, only to shake his head. “It’s… not important. I just appreciate it— all they did for me.”
“… Faye’s next.” he says, after a quiet sort of pause, shaking his head and running his left hand through his hair, ruffling it a little. “She’s… an odd sort, to be sure. Worries a whole lot, you know?”
Maybe, she worried too much. “Sometimes I feel she never quite recovered from what happened back then.” He says, voice soft, and brows knit in concern. “Wary of strangers, wary of everything, it felt like her guard was always up whenever she spoke to anyone who wasn’t us, you know?”
It worried him, really, how much she’d dig her heels at the new, like it was dangerous. Like it’d hurt everyone again.
“She tries to keep everyone safe, in her own way. Does her best to make sure everyone’s alright and accounted for. Sometimes, I think she always makes a headcount when we break for camp to make sure one of us didn’t just run off again. Like we’re sheep, and she’s the sheepdog—” Trailing off, he laughs at the mental image. She’s the one who looked like a sheep most of all, in his opinion!
“Don’t let it fool you, though. That girl’s just about as much a rascal as any, she just has a better poker face for when we get caught.”
Levity helped. Levity was nice.
And then…
“Well… then there’s Kliff.” Gods, Kliff. What was he going to do with that guy?
“If I’m honest… I always thought he’d leave one day, you know?” Alm says, exhaling softly as his gaze turns skyward. “Fly away, to wherever it is that he sought to find.” It wasn’t a secret among anyone, try as Kliff might to pretend he didn’t care either way.
“He left before, you know? To a nearby town, sure, and we knew where he was, unlike Celica, but…” All the same, he had left, in the search of something more… among other things. Kliff didn’t like to talk about home, and Alm respected that.
“Well… when he told me he always wanted to see the world, back when we left Ram… I knew then. Something told me, in my gut, that he wouldn’t stay when this was over.” Kliff would chase his dream and, for a time, Alm wished he could have chased it with him. Travelling around, helping people… it sounded appealing, and it would have definitely helped him eventually find Celica (or so he thought), so he had considered asking Kliff to come with when the war was over.
And then, the war got longer. He fought with Celica. More and more responsibilities landed on his shoulders. “Thought I’d go with him at one point, but as the war went on, I felt myself more like a moored boat, and he..? A loose boat, offshore and far, getting further by the minute.” And that was what it was, in the end. Him? He was tied down, in responsibility and duty and his love and care for Valentia. Kliff? Kliff was off to new pastures, and then off again, a wanderer.
“… I hope he loves it out there.”
And, lastly…
“And then… there’s Celica.” Alm almost breathes her name, saddened eyes uplifted at the thought of his closest friend, owner of his heart.
His eyes slide closed, and he takes a breath, trying to focus exclusively on what he wants to say. All his burdens, his thoughts, his sorrows, and his wishes… they roll off his shoulders, and he feels as tall as he stands.
“She’s so unlike me, you know? And yet… so much of me is made, shaped, by what I learned from her and at her side. We’re like the sun and the moon, sometimes… but that just means we’ll always light the sky.”
… Gods, that was cheesy. Even then, it was just… it was how he felt about it, really.
“But, well, we share some traits too, you know? We’re both stubborn, and we never know when to quit. We want peace, we love the outdoors, and flowers… and we want so much for Valentia to flourish. And we…” Pausing, Alm shakes his head. “And then there’s the stuff where we’re different. She’s a lot more focused than me, a lot more driven. She’s slow to make her choices because she’s always considering things, and here I am, you know? Rushing ahead, doing what I think is best because it’s what first came to mind… I’m trying, though! I don’t want her to feel like she has to spend all her time holding me back from doing something stupid.” A laugh leaves him as his gaze turns once more to the side, as if a mental image has sprung to mind.
“She’s so kind and considerate— but she’s also so distant. Like she’s trying to put something between herself and everything else. I… I understand why, and I never felt her do it with me, but it… it hurts to see her push others to arm’s length. I want to… I want to help her feel like she can let other people in again.” The desire is earnest, and so is his sad little smile, but it widens more and more, as if the thought of her can’t keep him down for long.
“She also doesn’t consider herself a lot, you know? Like she’s gotta be strong for everyone, but ain’t got room for her own wants and needs. I want to make her feel like… like she matters, you know? She’s my friend, she’s so important to me… and to so many other people. I hope I can help her see that, as much as she’s helping me work… around my more impulsive tendencies.” Among other things. He knows he tends to roll with his emotions, and he knows he’s not very good at propriety, so he tries hard to learn what she’s got to teach him.
“I feel like, if we hadn’t met, I would have never learned to… deal with people who closed their heart.” He finally says, closing his eyes. “When she arrived to Ram… she was the most scared little thing… but it also made her so angry, so hurt…”
It’s painful to think about how she used to be, after she had lost everything. Now that he knew, it was even more heartbreaking than it was before.
“If I hadn’t learned people could be like that… and still be kind and wonderful underneath… I don’t think I’d be as good with dealing with people who are hurt as I am now. I think we… both learned a lot as kids, from each other.”
“… And, more than anything, I want to help her keep smiling, no matter how hard it gets.”
Footsteps echoed from the end of the hall. They were human in nature, the simple clack of sturdy heels against stone, but Simeon knew what lurked beneath that human form. A single bead of sweat dripped down his neck. For all the countless times he’d appeared on stage, not once had he felt nervous, but this? This audience was different, and for once, the role he played was not something grand or fanciful, but rather one of a servant.
Simeon was kneeling, his head lowered such that he could not see the mortal form his lord had taken. He did not dare look, no matter how much his curiosity threatened to drive him to madness. It had been almost a century since he promised himself to his lord, and though humility and subservience did not become him, he knew what must be done.
“Simeon Ventus, last rightful heir of the Ventus Dynasty, at your service, my lord.” His voice trembled. “Lucia sent me, and I shall do as I am bid.”
