So, now that the rat had given what the cat wanted, there should be absolutely no reason to keep her alive anymore, yes? Between her inner turmoil enticing her to succumb to her most violent desires in her zealous pursuit to "make everything right" and Tane simply being an insufferable scum who attempted to besmirch Ciradyl's name, Eve was this close to launching a stone spike into the crime lord's skull so they could all be done with it. Fortunately, Miina had the same idea and at last fulfilled their primary objective.

Care not to forget to remove the head for Captain Bikke. ...is what she'd say, but with Izayoi around, it'd be a redundant affair, something her aching head couldn't handle right now.

As for the matters of Ciradyl's “betrayal”, some of the Kirins might be shocked or stupefied by this... so-called revelation, but Eve? Honestly, she expected it, as in, Ciradyl was a spy masquerading as a bard, and as proven time and time again, she was a damned fine one, to the point that the people she had infiltrated truly believed she was one of them, including Mizutani herself. Speaking of, as far as the late crime lord was concerned, she was being truthful; in her eyes, her beloved 'Cici' had truly turned on her, which goes to show just how competent the Faye was at her job.

However, were those real tears coming from the Bard's eyes? They seemed to be. Hmmm... there was only one reasonable hypothesis for this: the emotional catharsis from finally being able to cut off the head of the snake who had been constricting the innocent for so long must be... overwhelming.

She's so deep undercover that even she herself feels like she had just betrayed her former employer... I don't envy her.

Whatever, they'd sort this all out back at Hien's place, Eve was sure of it.


"Ugh..." Seated next to the SEED agent, the Pseudolon couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the commotion raised by Arton, and then to make matters worse, Ciradyl was enabling his baseless accusations, what was she up to? Hien had been rescued and Mizutani was slain, there was no need to maintain the masquerade, at least not to the Kirins. When the Skaellan swordsman demolished the perfectly functional table, "Uuuurgh..." another - longer and more exasperated - groan left Eve's throat, a figurative trail of wisp-like ether floating up from her slightly ajar lips, Now she couldn't even bury her forehead into the surface, indeed, he better be sorry...

... ... ...

See? She knew it, she also knew that Esben would be able to see the truth where others couldn't; he's a spy too after all, he should be aware of the nitty gritty details of the world of espionage. While Eve had experience of blending into the crowd and not attracting attention, she had nothing against these agents of subterfuge, who could falsify even their very identity, all to accomplish their missions.

Esben's detailed and rational deliberation, backed by official documents and confirmations from Izayoi, couldn't come any sooner. Finally, it'd push even these hysterical braggarts to see the truth, that Ciradyl had sacrificed her identity and even conscience, all to ensure her people's survival, the good people, those who deserved to live, and culling those who - like Tane - were essentially parasites.

"You owe us a table, Arton..." Eve murmured, uncaring if she was too quiet to be heard, but didn't care if she wasn't either.

Ah… all this was going way over her head. Maybe she should have been paying more attention earlier…? Except, well, she'd been more focused on Mizutani. Now Ciradyl was being all guilty because she'd… betrayed people who were only going to cause problems for everyone else, and they happened to be from Osprey too? She just couldn't wrap her head around it; countries were just too big to feel any relationship or responsibility for everybody in one. She'd got a bunch of idiots and jerks killed but had managed to protect the people that hadn't done anything wrong, wasn't that a good thing?

It wasn't really an argument she could put into words, and she didn't want to have everyone staring at her whilst she meandered through an explanation, so… hm, ah! Yes, she could just copy how her brother had used to comfort her when she made a mistake. Just slip round to beside Ciradyl quietly and…

"T-There, there…"

Ciradyl probably wasn't expecting to have her head patted.

---

A mixed look of fear and surprise flashed in Artons' eyes hearing Izayoi's swift crackdown on his outburst. Agents that were supposed to be some of Skael's best had ruthlessly butchered his family in an attack that was burned into his memory. The crack of gunshots in every direction, the metallic scent of blood, the garbled screams of mutilated guards meant to protect him, but most of all...a sinister, playful smile that was enough to freeze him to the bone. There was nothing more vile that a traitor that turned on their own people, whatever the reason or benefit might be. Those who pretended to be your ally only to stab you in the back once you turned away.

Arton was never that good at reading other people but even he could see Ciradyl was like a bowstring that had been drawn too tight and finally snapped. Izayoi, while clearly upset, seemed convinced there was far more to the story than what had been present so far and she seemed not the only one. Esben sitting against her like that would be a bit shocking even under normal circumstances. Were the two closer than he realized? He couldn't see the papers the two were looking over but the idea that anything would make her betraying her countrymen the correct move seemed like a far fetched one and yet...

"This...This would absolve you, in my eyes. I have committed larger wastes of our people's lives. My presumed final stand was little more than a temper tantrum on my part that got many more killed uselessly."

He blinked as what Izayoi said finally registered in his mind. It was the first time he had heard her sound almost astonished. Those documents had come Mizutani's mansion so how could they possibly absolve Ciradyl of wrong-doing? Arton would no doubt be asked to leave or restrained if he uttered another outburst and he was starting to wonder if his feelings were in the minority here. His attention quickly turned to Hien and noticed the startled reaction from Ciradyl. It seemed like they all wanted to know Ciradyl's reasoning for her actions.

His mouth went slightly agape as Esben listed off a long list of individuals that Ciradyl had been responsible, or partially responsible, for getting rid. Honestly, there was so much information being rattled off that he began to lose track of everything that was being said. Arton had no concept of the person that Ciradyl was before all this but it was both impressive and terrifying to hear everything she had a hand in. That said, there was a kernel of something else he felt hearing all of this. Pity.

"You owe us a table, Arton..." He hung his head barely hearing Eve's reprimand and responded equally quietly "My bad..."

His eyes went wide as he caught the baffling scene of the tiny Miina patting the much taller Ciradyl on the head. Hadn't she been annoyed at Ciradyl not that long ago? Was Miina...really an airhead? Arton turned to Galahad and Robin waiting for their reactions to all of this wondering if he was truly looking at this the wrong way. He had his fair share of hardship but honestly his life had been largely free of major responsibilities much to his ignorance. It was difficult for him to relate to what she must have gone through.

---

Her hands gripped the red-splattered edges of her dress unable to meet Izayoi eye to eye. She might have lowered herself to the floor if Esben hadn't been sitting against her just to let go of the pressure pushing down on her shoulders. Ciradyl was trying to find the courage to speak as much as she was trying to form the right words in her mind. All she could do under the intense stares of Team Kirin, mostly Izayoi, was fidget in place feeling like a trapped animal. That became especially true with the surprise guest to enter the room.

Every movement she was involuntarily making stopped as she stared at Hien, feeling the creeping tendrils of anxiety take hold of her. No! The young lord needed to be ignorant of her actions so that he could deny them in the future! She timidly shook looking down at the ground. There was no escape to be had. Chisaki wouldn't come save her from this situation. She was scared. Scared of saying the wrong thing. Scared of being abandoned.

"I..." The word barely escaped her lips when she felt Esben shift behind her and speak.

Ciradyl felt strangely exposed, vulnerable even, as Esben proceeded to read out a fraction of her history leading up to now. In fact, a faint blush colored the Faye's cheeks as Esben eloquently stated her actions in such a way that even she couldn't argue against the defense. Esben was a SEED agent so it shouldn't have surprised her that he would have such a way with words, but her mind turned towards what Rudolf said earlier. It was though at last...she was finally seen. Ever since Izayaoi was presumed dead, she had felt alone with no one that could understand her true feelings. Now....tears welled up in her eyes once more as Esben finished and she suddenly found herself surrounded by Eve, Esben, Izayoi, Hien, and Miina.

Mint-eyes watched as Miina's hand hovered over to her head and felt the gentle touch of her patting down her snowy-white hair "Miina..."

The tears she had been trying to suppress finally were unleashed but these carried a different meaning than earlier. Ciradyl had carried the unbearable weight of Osprey's future on her shoulders by herself for so long. She had fought so hard on her own forced to bottle everything up inside to the point she felt cold to the outside world. The stiletto that had felt so heavy after she had gotten it back from Izayoi was barely within her notice. There was indeed a faint light visible from the dark pit she had felt trapped in.

"Yes, Chisaki really enjoyed that one." The faintest smile appeared on her lips as she decided to address Esben first. She took in a deep breath, finally ready to answer Izayoi's question.

"I destroyed myself giving Osprey this chance and now there is barely anything left to give. I thought, just maybe, if I submitted myself to some kind of punishment I might get some of the pieces back...but reality is hardly that fair." This was her earnest answer. Her attention turned to those others in the room that had expressed their discontent with her or had yet to speak "I am truly sorry for my actions at the manor."

Acceptance was far from the outcomes she had expected and it seemed her choice to go rogue at the manor was more of an issue than her past actions. The day that her parents died was the last time she remembered feeling anything at all, and now she was showing such a messy side of herself to those who had barely become acquittances. No. That was unfair to the members of Team Kirin. She wanted to believe they had become friends during their short time together. Her mind drifted to the conversation that her and Esben had that one night. Ciradyl had done all that she could for Osprey and now it was probably better to have at least one member of its resistance make themselves scarce.

And yet... as one found her light, another fearfully snuffed it.

Rudolf remained quiet, mouth shut and ears open even as he forced the barking dog at the base of his skull down, below thought once more. It was all he could have done not to turn and swing his massive blade into the phantom sensation that was leaning over his shoulder as its words dripped through his head— and of course, still cut nothing in the process. By the time Esben spoke up, its piece was said.

Now knowing the realigned state of affairs, with the terms of the contract enforced as they were... he got the sickening feeling the silence was in part by his passenger's choice. After all, his own mind did plenty of talking. And where all eyes had turned to put Ciradyl under the microscope... his gaze in turn was flickering between the rest. Judging. Reading. Extrapolating. Worrying, worrying, worrying, as the monster named "Fear" began to sink in its claws.

"Explain yourself. Now."

He flinched.

He knew that tone. That expression. Five years ago, he had seen the same face as his life fell apart. It really was no coincidence that he'd gleaned some inkling of kinship with the Faye. This... was about to be the same moment. They were the same fool, purging everything until they accomplished their single, overriding goal...

Save for a key difference. Something the spirit had missed. Maybe neglected to say... or maybe, it had meant to lead him here, keeping him in check with reality.

He followed the SEED's rundown of her actions as they came to light, noting the repartee between him and Izayoi as the details regarding the "who" and "how" and "why" were discussed. A pretty thorough report, all things considered. Poisonings, deals cut that moved rivals out of the way, even planting information against fellow conspirators... each step had a cold, cruel logic justifying it, one that panged with all too much familiarity in retrospect. Calculated moves made on a chessboard the scale of a wartorn nation, each piece sacrificed opening up more material.

The zero-sum game of politics, in its own way, was far more brutal than the field... to think he had once trained for this. To think he could imagine and hear the same notes of approval from his own mentors that Esben and Izayoi, even Hien, were now showing... Would it not be the case that, had Edren and Osprey's situations been reversed, he might have needed to do the same?

"...for nothing more than their own egos, not for any worthwhile reason."

... No.

"Any others in these pages that might have attempted a rescue were likely too incompetent to meet with any success in the effort or to try and use the death to their advantage when they inevitably failed."

That was right.

The others were stepping forward to speak in her defense... because her victims were all, as detailed, shortsighted fools. Incompetents to a man, chasing immediate pride instead of looking at the bigger picture. Slaves to their desperation to carve out a new standing for themselves... only unable to do so without barreling directly into ruin, the others attached to them be damned. She was, even with all of it said and done, working towards the ends of her people, not herself. That was the difference. The framing had been all wrong until now.

She had dealt with millions of devils to save millions more of Osprey's people.

He had forged a contract with one, just to save his own pride.

He was of their ilk, not hers.

He felt something cold in his palm. He glanced down. A tiny point of black... the same that he had once allowed to blossom into a billowing fireball, moments before he hurled it into—

With grit teeth, he clenched his fist and snuffed it.

"We carry the results of what we do regardless." he finally spoke up, tonelessly meeting her eyes with a tense, possibly pained expression. "Corporal punishment would only belabor the point, given you've already shriven clean so much for your broader cause. It's the nature of sacrifice that none of it returns."

In warfare, you never come out unmarred. Even if you were never struck by anything beyond the wind, battle and war exact their toll.

These were the first things he had been taught, when he could finally hold a blade in his hands.

Metal rubbing against leather sounded, as he slowly drew the bone-hilted knife on his belt into his palm, staring into the steel.

Barely caught an eye in the reflection, along with the red stains of blood on his white hair. It warped as he shifted it in his grip.

Never the same, once steel and blood fly.

"In your case, you count the lives of the people detailed here among those sacrifices, people you didn't make aware you were an enemy. It's not for nothing that you feel guilt. However noble the cause, death is likely one of the more tender mercies Valheim has to offer to the people who were in your way or theirs. And there's certainly no 'honor' to take refuge in with your methodology. That's for strong folk, who can settle it all face-to-face, man-to-man. When we sacrifice it, it's just knowing what bargains you've made. What result our price is."

At what point would it be judged that incompetence merited death? While he conflated war and politics like this, what difference was there to make of being outmaneuvered in either theatre? Were he in their shoes, he certainly couldn't forsee any move he made working out before being picked off. Even now, the lot of them, these Kirins, were wary that he might poise a danger to their cause in much the same vein.

Had he moved too soon? Been too blind? Maybe so.

These people were willing to accept her, given those factors. Even Miina was stroking her head, like offering comfort to a beaten dog.

He had to admit that an unvoiced part of him, most of him really, even agreed. Given the hand she was dealt, Ciradyl had played it about as well as she could have— and those that had fallen victim certainly did seem to be, with the backing opinions of the two Ospreyan veterans present, those that would have been lost quickly without the knives in their back along the way. Could you not call that much a wash? Sure.

But much like Arton... there was a less ruthlessly logical part of him in there as well. One that looked upon an ostensible ally, and was being told that the totality of her war extended even to volatile assets on her side.

"It's something we'll always know, no matter what. That much is plenty of punishment, for people like you and me."

And was being told by everyone else that their hearts lied in accordance with that calculus. That if this happened again, even if Ciradyl no longer had the heart to step on another's back (and he believed this was true), the ones that were going to drag the team down were going to be excised. Dealt with. Maybe not handed over, but by no means offered any quarter.

If he was like those men and women she betrayed to save the nation, then...

He returned the dagger to its place at his side.

"It's just a matter of what comes next. One way or another, we keep waking up, life keeps going, day after day, second by second. If you do nothing with the blood on your hands, it'll seep into your soul and turn to rust. We have to see our battles through."

"I destroyed myself giving Osprey this chance and now there is barely anything left to give. I thought, just maybe, if I submitted myself to some kind of punishment I might get some of the pieces back...but reality is hardly that fair."

Izayoi's expression softened at that. Ciradyl was already absolved in her eyes, but this? She understood. More than Ciradyl knew, she understood.

"You are not alone in that matter. The stories and tales circled back to Kugane during the war did not speak of what I had to do to attempt to defend our home. To this day, I regret no small amount of it. I turned myself into a monster to safeguard Osprey, and all of it was for naught in the end. Massacres, mass executions, I held children hostage." She exhaled slowly, entirely willing to expose herself in this moment if it helped ease some of the pressure off Ciradyl.

"Your sins were at least against the deserving. Mine often were for the sake of expediency."

Hien coughed, standing up and making to leave.

"Well. As...interesting as this all was, I believe that any hypothetical treachery was entirely deserved against those in question, even if I do feel somewhat guilty for benefiting. Regardless, I know nothing of this, but will have to resort to delivering punishment to appease the masses for killing fellow Ospreans during a time of occupation should all of this ever come to light. So...don't let it. I daresay I could get the sentence reduced to exile at best, but it still is something that all of us would rather avoid. Regardless, you all have a good night. We can begin final preparations for your departure in the morning."

"Indeed. I will see you off. We may not have fought together for long, but-"

"Oh, you're going."

"...Excuse me? My lord?" Izayoi's last two words were punctuated by a slight hiss.

"You heard the priest. This matter concerns more than just us. Besides, Valheim will be seeking to expand, regardless. As much as I'd like to have you with us here in Osprey, it would be the wrong choice, tactically."

"..." Izayoi remained silent for several moments before she afforded Hien a single nod.

---

The exit from Tane's stronghold was a fairly simple business, all things considered. Most of the remaining thugs had routed, preferring to loot and flee rather than stand and fight. A reasonable, if somewhat cowardly choice of action. All in all, no major injuries sustained by any of the Kirins, and for better or for worse, they were all back home- with perhaps some additional cargo, specifically the gun Eliane insisted on returning with. Galahad could only imagine what she planned to do with it, but he supposed it was better in their hands than the enemy's. That only left one last thing to deal with.

Ciradyl.

In the moment, Galahad was enraged by her apparent treachery. She knew exactly what their stakes were, and why they were going, yet choosed to ignore them all for the sake of her vengeance. It felt something akin to a miliary tribunal, the way they were all arranged around the meeting table. Some stood, others sat, Arton broke the table. Galahad, still in his armor, sat in one of the chairs spared by the young swordsman's wrath, a hand nursing his temples as he idly watched his helmet roll off the broken table and clatter to the ground.

Of the lot of them, Izayoi certainly new Ciradyl best, and was the most direct in her questioning. Was it true, and why? Luckily for them, Ciradyl was rather forthcoming with the truth. Galahad's initial response was much like that of Arton's, if unspoken. She was a traitor, at the very least untrustworthy. If Galahad had been the man he was a year ago, he'd have executed her on the spot.

But, his perspective had changed in the past few months, dramatically, in no small part due to the fact that he'd been deemed a traitor by his own father. Esben broke it down for them, but political matters were never something Galahad had much of a mind, or patience for. It was days like this when he longed for the relative simplicity of the hunting lodges in Midgar. No reasoning or motives to decipher, just find a dragon and hunt it. These days, nothing was so simple anymore.

At the end of the day, Ciradyl's reasonings, motives and justifications made sense. Galahad had long since accepted the fact that working in the background often meant making unsavory choices so that others wouldn't have to get their hands dirty. Such a thing even reared its ugly head when Galahad was a part of Edren’s military. Dragoons by their nature were highly mobile, highly deadly shock troops able to reach far behind enemy lines. He'd be lying if he said every fight he engaged in was glorious or honorable. It appeared that such black operations were universal wherever you went: Edren, Skael, Osprey- wherever there were people, there would be a need for this type of work. Ciradyl truly looked like a broken shell of the woman they'd met just a little while ago. It wasn't as though he had a say on what happened in Osprean lands to Osprean people either- Izayoi seemed ready to absolve her of her deeds, and even Miina, who was the wronged party in the case of the Kirins seemed to pity her. Though it didn't necessarily mean Galahad had to like it.

"Sometimes I forget who I'm sitting next to." Galahad scoffed darkly as Izayoi compared her own actions against Ciradyl's. "But she's right. Many of us have had to make hard choices," his eyes flickered over to Rudolf, "or choices that have haunted us. I can understand the motives, respect them even, but that is not what concerns me at the moment."

"Tonight, our goals were practically the same. If you were so desperate to take Tane's head, you could've told us and I'd have gladly handed you the blade, after we finished interrogating her." Galahad's eyes fixed her with the same piercing glare he'd put onto Rudolf nights before, harsh and cold. "We're of vastly different backgrounds and walks of life, but we're all working together. At the very least we should be able to help each other out. It's not as though we cannot band together to aid in the goals of one of our number- the fact that we worked with you to help Izayoi free Hien is living proof of that. I'd hope you think one of our own was worth such consideration as well. The fact of the matter is: tonight you betrayed us, Ciradyl. I for one shall not forget that, anytime soon."

Galahad stood and shook his head, ready for this to be done with. He scooped up his helmet from it's place on the floor, and settled it into the crook of his arm. His gaze returned to the silver haired bard, softening by a hair. "At the end of the day, in the case of the Kirins, we still got everything we came for, interference or not. If Miina holds no ill will towards you, I might not approve, but I will not object."

"Whether or not you find your penance is up to you. Do as you please." Galahad said with a callous sigh, turning away. "I've had enough of you for one night. I'll take my leave."

---

Even without having a clear view of her face, it was remarkable just how expressive Ciradyl could manage to be; the voice was obvious enough, but her mood was remarkably easy to discern as it shifted back and forth from the body language that accompanied it. Squirming under the combined gaze of all the rest, shifting back and forth–locking up like she'd been struck as soon as Hien's entrance became obvious, and, slowly, relaxing as first Esben and the others all spoke in turn.

"You see?" he whispered as Rudolf began to speak, leaning back over her shoulder once more. "Most of us are too familiar with this way of doing things to hold too much of that against you." He fell silent again as a flash of light caught his eye, reflected off of Rudolf's knife...as the swordsman observed his own reflection in it for a moment. Hmm...

He turned back away from the rest, leaving Miina to give her comfort to Ciradyl, heedless of Eve having moved up next to him except to continue keeping any important information on the papers out of her sight, and pulled his buckler back off of his belt. While the outside had long since lost its polish through use, the reverse, especially beneath his grip, still maintained its mirror finish. He set the papers face-down in his lap, held the buckler just so...

Brought up a free hand, shaking soot and who-knew-what-else out of his hair as best he could. The dust and grime showed just as clearly in his blond locks as in Rudolf's stark white; he'd expected it on all his clothes, certainly, though despite his own relative lack of involvement in the fighting proper–and the amount of time he'd spent with his hood completely up to block the tell-tale shine of his hair–it seemed it had gotten all over.

Well, at least Ciradyl was well coated in Mizutani's blood, so he wasn't terribly worried about that. Galahad was busy pointing out what none of the rest of them had, yet, as well, and with everything else he doubted that she'd even noticed; if anything, she was likely more concerned with how much any of the rest may speak up in regards to the astoundingly poor decision to try using them all as a distraction rather than actually trying to work alongside them.

Still, though...

"Eve?" He hung his head forward a bit, turning so that the girl could get a look at the back of his head. "Not too messy in the back, am I?"

All of these treasures---

There was so much money here, all sucked up by this woman like she was some kind of leech. The sheer amount of wealth in this one room was more then Robin had ever seen.

There were some people who suffered terribly. Some people who were constantly on the verge of starving.

And yet this enormous amount of wealth lay in this room, horded by criminal greed.

Didn't those people left in the slums deserve it far more? Didn't the people living from day to day, desperate for a full stomach, desperate for a secure tomorrow, deserve it beyond anyone else?

These were the thoughts playing through Robin's mind.

Wouldn't the only acceptable action for one who called herself a hero to be distributing this wealth to those who needed it most?

Not that heroes didn't claim treasure for themselves. There were plenty of stories of heroes finding wealth and taking it for their own. But in this case, when there were so many people being crushed by poverty---

There was only one response that Robin could even fathom.

After all---

Hadn't she suffered in just the same way?

She'd have to speak to the others about this as soon as possible.

---

---But there was no way she could even mention it. Not now.

She hadn't seen what happened, not exactly. But she'd learned plenty in the past few moments.

Robin wasn't sure what to say. It was kind of overwhelming, but Esben had laid out Ciradyl's entire history.

She'd done so many things that Robin had never even begun to expect. Working within Valheim's structure wasn't something she felt as if she could condone. A hero didn't do such things, did they?

---Did they?

What would she have done?

Robin couldn't say. She couldn't know.

It wasn't something she'd even thought of before.

If these actions were to try and shield innocent people, the very same people that Robin desired to help, could they be called heroic, just as the stories she envisioned in her head at those words?

But she threw away the lives of others who opposed Valheim to achieve her goals, didn't she?

"I---..."

Robin hesitated. Could she even speak about this? Did she know what to say? She wanted to say that she did. She wanted to speak confidently. She preferred to project that kind of image. To feel certain of every action she said, every word she spoke. It was a the root of her behavior.

Her confidence, her assuredness. It was the way in which a hero behaved, after all.

But at the moment, she couldn't find such confidence. Not in the face of a situation that was so knotted up in on itself.

But she did know one thing, at least.

She couldn't agree with Arton's approach.

Robin took a deep breath.

"I don't know if I can say I agree with anything you've done," she began, "Not really. It's not the sort of thing I can claim that I'm alright with. But if it was for the sake of innocent people who could have suffered, I---"

Robin's gaze shifted downwards. She had stepped into this conflict so recently, could she really say anything?

"---I don't know if I can say they were wrong, either."

Her head hung.

"I don't know if I can say I know anything about this at all. But trying to help people who are weak and suffering is something I can't condemn, even if I don't know if I agree with how it was done."

Robin's words faded into silence.

She wasn't sure if she'd helped. She wasn't sure if she'd achieved anything at all. This was so far out of her expectation, so completely overwhelming, that she didn't know the first thing about what to do.

But she had to say something.

As the discussions went on, with more and more of the party chiming in with their own take on the whole debacle, including from Ciradyl herself, Eve slowly but surely began to understand why the Bard was so distraught. Her previous assessment was incorrect, she wasn't so deep undercover that she thought of Tane as her employer and lover, but instead the fact that she had subjected plenty of Ospreyans to death or worse. After all, they were still her countrymen, bad apples they might be, and not to mention, she was... cooperating with Valheim.

Valheim...!!

Even the mere thought of dealing with the invaders ignited the flames of hatred in Eve's ether-beating heart. She knew it now, it was indeed churlish of her to simply dismiss Ciradyl's turmoil like that. Imagine years upon years of paying lip service to traitors and the empire, the fact she could keep it up for so long spoke wonders of her dedication, loyalty, and strength.

Should she comfort the Faye? Hmmm... perhaps not, Miina had gotten to it.

However, as Galahad had mentioned, the Bard still did made a grave error in judgment when she went off on her own even though they had a mutual goal, complicating everything, and not just that, even after the party narrowly managed to salvage the operation, Ciradyl still tried to sabotage it by expecting the Kirins to be able to interrogate a corpse. Eve might see the whole interrogation objective to be frustratingly unnecessary, but they had committed to it, so the least the Faye could do was respect the team's wishes as the Pseudolon did.

For this matter specifically, no one in their right mind would say Ciradyl wasn't at fault.

Meanwhile, Esben's attempt at keeping the papers out of sight didn't even register in the false dragoness' mind, at some point in the discussion, her thoughts became quite occupied and whatever specific information contained in those documents ceased to matter, especially after the Kirins had elaborated all the important points. Thus, Eve blinked when she heard someone calling out her name, prompting her to shift her gaze at Esben.

"If by messy you mean dirty, then yes, you're a bit 'messy'," All dust, soot, and debris of the mansion assault trapped on and between his blond locks, "Fortunately, I can take care of it." Eve quipped nonchalantly as she - without warning - cast a small hydromantic spell, conjuring a bubble full of warm water as it proceeded to envelop Esben's scalp like a reverse shower cap. The aquatic mass would begin to rub and massage the Spy's hair and skin, scrubbing off any dirt and grime.

Who ever said a black mage could only destroy?

---

Éliane, had, apparently, missed a great deal in the couple of moments that she had spent inspecting and then disassembling the rotary gun outside the room. It didn’t take a genius to guess the main details of what had transpired, though, and it looked like Mizutane’s interrogation and execution had been far messier than anybody had expected.

Then, there was the matter of Ciradyl, and the reason why Éliane was crowded together with the rest of Kirin and the other Ospreyans in a safe house meeting room, holding what to all purposes was a military tribunal instead of being in the workshop fully stripping the gatling gun and getting it ready for her own purposes…

If anything, though, the Skaelan officer was understanding of the Ospreyan woman, despite the allegations and aspersions cast on her loyalty. Skaelan politics, as superior as her country was the others was a particularly nasty thing; there would have been little need or even the skills necessary for the existence of SEED had that not been the case. There were so many circumstances and strange ploys that she was familiar with not just in her brief time in the service, but simply by being exposed to Solitude politics that she would not judge until she understood the full details.

And Esben, in a truly Skaelan way, provided. He had all the documents and evidence that betrayed Ciradyl’s intent behind her actions.
She understood. Like many things when it came to high-level politics and decision making, she understood, but didn’t like it. It was part of why she had left SEED, among many other things, but at heart, Éliane was very much a pragmatist. Just as she disliked working with criminals, it was still the pragmatic thing to do, and so she did it; here, Ciradyl assassinated ostensible allies and fellow countrymen, but only to preserve what remained of the stately ship. She didn’t like it, but she understood.

So, she wouldn’t judge. There was little for her to say that wasn’t already said by the others, and she had little to do with the woman, either.

“Unfortunate, but understandable,” were her only words that she added on the matter. Perhaps she would speak to her at a later time, but with the interrogation all but over, she nodded her head and left. There were spoils to be inspected, after all, and after that mess of a mission, she would much rather have a piping hot cup of coffee and pour of the design of her new toy.

”What will we do with a drunken sailor?”
“What will we do with a drunken sailor?”
“What will we do with a drunken sailor?”
“Early in the morning!”

True to his word, Captain Bikke had graciously offered free passage aboard his ship the moment Mizutani Tane’s head was presented to him. The Kirins, with a sudden, coincidental last-minute reunion, had boarded the Scurvy Fishman the day before after taking a day to ensure all their affairs and supplies were in order, shoving off from port relatively unbothered in the wake of the chaos from their raid on Mizutani’s manse.

”Way hay and up she rises,”
“Way hay and up she rises,”
“Way hay and up she rises,”
“Early in the morning!”

Hien had seen the party off from the safehouse, still rather wary of exposing himself in public at the moment. Nonetheless, he’d given warm farewells, including a private word with Izayoi that left the two of them seeming less tense with each other to a degree. The aforementioned samurai leaned against the railing on deck, her ears twitching slightly with each verse of the infernal sea shanties that Bikke and his men kept belting off.

"Now that we have nothing but time," Izayoi said to the young woman standing next to her. "Perhaps you’d care to elaborate on where exactly you have been, Neve."

The collective efforts of the rest of the Kirins had caught Neve up on the events she’d missed from the moment of her disappearance up through now, and this was the first moment the white mage had to explain just what she had been up to during that time.

”Shave his belly with a rusty razor,”
“Shave his belly with a rusty razor,”
“Shave his belly with a rusty razor,”
“Early in the morning!”

@Marlowe

---

Journeying under the ocean’s clear blue sky was not an uncommon experience for the faux dragoness as twas' natural for someone capable of (un)naturally sprouting her own pair of wings. However, just as there were differences between walking on foot versus traveling via carriage, sailing on an ship too had its own set of unique quirks; she didn't need to continuously control her altitude, lift, and speed among several other things.

Thus, by the time Ranbu no Izayoi stumbled upon Grayscale, the latter could be found relaxing on the open-air upper deck; her hood back, pale gray locks swaying in the breeze as she leaned against a railing, and red eyes gazing contemplatively upon the horizon.

Izayoi arrived on deck with a fishing rod and tackle, giving Eve a brief nod as she started setting up her line next to her.

The shorter female partially turned her gaze toward the samurai, then gave her a small nod in return.

”Have the pirates given you any trouble?” She asked, baiting her hook. ”I believe the manor incident impressed upon them as a whole that we are not to be trifled with, but one or two may not have quite understood the message.”

"Trouble?" Eve paused for a moment, recalling everything she could about Bikke's crew; they gave her all sorts of reactions: anxiety, nonchalance, and even fascination, but none of them troubled her, "No. A few avoided me, others approached, but most kept to themselves." Explained the Pseudolon.

A moment of tranquil silence then fell between the two, just a fisherwoman and her observer… "Do you see me as a child, Izayoi?" At least until the latter broke it.

Izayoi regarded Eve in silence at the question as she cast her line out.

”You do not behave as one, but your appearance is closer to that than of an adult.” She stated matter-of-factly, returning her gaze to the water as she kept an eye on her bobber.

The Mystrel's response to the mutant's inquiry earned her a pause, then followed by a small defeated sigh as Eve's half-closed eyes stared down toward the water's surface, her form slumping slightly more than before. "I'm aware..." Eve murmured, "It's vexing to be immediately assumed as an infant and having to explain to each new colleague that I'm not, sometimes, I don't even have that chance..."

”Have I given you cause to believe that I treat you as a child?”

It was... admittedly a good question, one that the Pseudolon had to spend some time contemplating, "It's... difficult to explain, but..." Her right hand raised to rest against her chin, "I've observed that the way you treated me is similar to how you behave around Miina, and furthermore..." Eve's lips subtly quivered as a rush of painful memories flashed in her mind, "Though not exactly alike, those actions reminded me of... her," Red eyes shifted to the sides for a moment, "Dr. Eve, my mother."

A dry chuckle left her throat, "With Miina, I can understand, but we're most likely not that different in terms of chronological age, Izayoi."

”Truly? Then some would call you fortunate for appearing perpetually young.” Izayoi questioned, glancing skyward briefly to note Rudolf and Esben up in the mizzen mast, conversing about what the gods know what.

”The Valheimr had you within their clutches for no small amount of time, then. Decades, at the very least.” She noted, returning her gaze to her fishing.

"I... don't particularly care about that." The Pseudolon murmured, peering back down at the seas while Izayoi noted the two Atsu Inn-mates up above, "Regardless of my apparent agelessness, I have more glaring issues." Eve sighed, examining the scales on her arm for a brief moment, "Most likely so, though I spent no small amount of that time comatose as they tinkered and toyed with my body and soul." Eve's placid tone intensified slightly before she calmed herself down.

”And if I remind you of your mother, it is not intentional on my part. Perhaps it may be more intentional for myself with Miina, considering one could evidently crush that girl’s morale with a stiff breeze. Then again, I hardly have any examples to base mine own behavior off of.”

"I see, I suspected as much, it's a mere coincidence in the end." The horned girl chuckled once at Izayoi's mention of the younger Mystrel, "Perhaps this is what they call ‘maternal instinct'?" Izayoi was a mother after all, before Valheim took her family away just as they took Eve's, "Someone who feeds you when you're hungry, comforts you when you're down, nurses your wounds if you're hurt..."

”Perhaps.” Izayoi conceded to Eve’s quip about maternal instinct before she was alerted by a tug on her line. A few moments of reeling later, and the sides of her mouth upturned slightly for a moment as she deposited her catch into the bucket. Mackerel, one of her favorites. Perfect.

"Oh..." The petite black mage fixed her eyes upon the piscine creature splashing just underneath the surface as the raven-haired samurai managed to claim yet another into her long list of victims, though perhaps there was a better way to phrase it. Regardless, this mackerel had the honor of falling to the legendary Ranbu no Izayoi herself.

”Speaking of your wounds,” Izayoi began, baiting her hook and casting the line out once more. ”Your blood. As I am aware, even dragons do not bleed rainbow. A side effect of Valheim’s work, I take it?”

Eve was still peering down into the bucket when Izayoi addressed the matter of her curious 'blood', prompting her to look back toward the sea, "Correct, dragons are organic creatures," The Artificial Eidolon mused as she continued observing the fishing line, waiting for the second catch, "But what flows through my body is ether, the very same substance that fuels arcane spells, materias, and last but not least, the lifeblood of True Eidolons. Tis' the reason why my vessel does not function the way yours does." A brief pause, "Through logical deduction, we can assume that every single 'sibling' of mine would host ether instead of blood as well."

”Ah, yes. Your fellow victims. Do you foresee them becoming an issue? Should Valheim deploy them in combat against us, what are your suggestions?” Izayoi inquired, focusing on more practical matters than the minutiae of how Eve functioned as a living being.

"Yes, I absolutely do." The sheer speed in which Eve's response was mustered could rival even Izayoi's cuts at her best, though she did take a moment longer to pause for the second inquiry, "It'll depend on which Eidolon they're based on, so my best advice would be to treat them as if you're facing the specific Primal that particular chimera emulates."

Another tranquil silence accompanied only by the sea breeze fell over them, at some point, Eve had noticed the presence of Esben and Rudolf sharing a lunch on the deck above theirs, prompting a barely-perceptible frown from Bahamut's illegitimate scion, before she returned her attention to the fishing ex-general, "..." staring at her for a few seconds...

"Why did you do what you did, Izayoi? To win the war at all cost?"

Unlike her inquiries to Rudolf on that fateful night in the desert, this one was completely bereft of any accusatory or judgmental tone, Eve made them under the basis of curiosity, and nothing more.

Izayoi frowned. The only reason she would even humor Eve on this matter was due to her tone. A genuine lack of understanding was preferable to outraged moralizing.

”Because I refused to allow outsiders to invade our lands, my home, and greedily pillage its resources and people. I have traveled across the entirety of Osprey, and would and did sell my soul to ensure that its people did not live under the thumb of distant, foreign rulers.”

Her mouth curled up into a bitter, sardonic smirk.

”And yet I still failed. Twice over. I make no illusions that had I won us the last war, I could have stopped Valheimr’s invasion.”

"I see." Eve replied curtly, simply acknowledging Izayoi's elaboration of her past without any opinion of her own. It was all in the distant past and none of those were particularly relevant as things stood, she was simply curious.

Though the same couldn't be said for the following what-if remark as it dealt with their current and active threat, "Valheim's timing of the invasion was no coincidence, they were deliberately letting Edren and Osprey weaken each other first," The Pseudolon paused with a frown that's somewhere between frustrated and hateful, "And judging what we've known so far about them, including Cid's revelations, no, I don't think you'd be able to, Izayoi. At least not by your lonesome, Osprey and Edren would have to band together to even the odds, but... I'd wager those scheming scum knew either side would be too resentful of each other to even consider that."

Eve then heaved a quiet sigh, "Regardless, we'll succeed this time... or die trying." Might as well, now with the world itself at stake…

Izayoi found herself less surprised by her newfound knowledge than she supposed she should be. It made no small amount of sense that Valheim had been sitting on the sidelines, waiting for Osprey and Edren to weaken each other. Nonetheless, she nodded back at Eve.

”I swore to avenge my family, and to see Osprey freed. No matter what I must do, no matter how many I must slay, I will see it done. As I see it, you are the only other one aside from Ciradyl that truly understands the need for vengeance.”

"... ... ..." After the Emperor's Demon's oath, the Chimeric Primal fell still, gazing toward the blue horizon, yet unlike the tranquil lull from before, this one was tense, foreboding, not unlike the deceptive calm at the eye of the storm, surrounded on all sides by an all-consuming hurricane. Then, Eve straightened herself, angling her body so she could now glance at Izayoi without having to turn her neck.

The sea breeze swayed her dark clothes and gray locks, but her form remained rigid, hosting a pair of slitted red eyes, opened as wide as they could be. Amongst the Kirins, Izayoi was the only one who had witnessed this malevolent leer before, whether back in Atsu before her family's grave or now in the middle of the high seas, the message remained clear.

Valheim shall burn.

---

”Found a space to tinker after all, Éliane?”

The voice came from behind the reddish-haired woman, the light that she was using to work by momentarily blocked as her much-taller countryman came and looked over her at the weapon she was busy with. Her gunblade and rifle sat nearby, as meticulously clean as could be expected from any of the personal guard of Skael’s overseer; the cannon she had claimed from Mizutani Tane’s mansion, meanwhile, lay just before her in a state of...

...Disassembly was the best he could describe it as. Truthfully, the mechanisms of such things weren’t Esben’s strong suit. Even though his buckler was of his own design, it was comparatively quite a bit simpler. If he had to guess, she was busy working with some portion of the firing mechanism, though that was where his working knowledge of such a firearm came to its end.

No, she set that aside almost instantly. Just a momentary curiosity, or part of the continued breakdown? This was why he didn't mess with such things.

He held a canteen of water out to her, fully aware that the cool sea breeze could only do so much to alleviate the sun beating down on them—them especially, who were used to a colder and more consistently overcast climate. ”You’ve had something other than coffee today, ja?”

The pink-haired Skaelan was engrossed in modifying part of the mount of the gun, with most of it laid to the side. She had made an effort of looking all over the ship for a place to work, but the spaces available were either too cramped, dark, hot, or filled with distasteful pirates. Outdoors was just as bad, with the opportunity for parts to roll off the deck if she wasn’t careful, but there at least was a breeze.

Looking up at the sound of Esben’s now familiar voice, she shrugged and accepted the offered canteen. “In this climate, doing otherwise would be foolish, even for me,” Éliane admitted. “Come to admire my new toy?”

”Would you be unhappy if I said no?” The unsurprising answer was plainly evident in the question he shot back. ”A bit curious just what you intend to do with it, but I don't think I can appreciate it quite the way you can.” Given that she'd accepted the water without any argument, he stepped off to the side, sitting down and settling in against the railing at the edge of the deck.

The ship rocked once, heaving itself over a fairly heavy swell; Esben stopped one piece of the weapon from rolling away with his foot, before it could slip between the deck boards and lead to an annoying search. Some seabird—judging by the sounds it was making, sorely affronted by the sudden jostling—took off from overhead, squawking irritably as it flew. He assumed as much, at least; usually they were quieter if they weren't bothered about something.

”Not willing to share the armourer's bench? I imagine it would be a bit more...”

He looked over the bent-over form of Éliane, where she hunched and scrabbled over the deck as she worked on the firearm before her.

”...Comfortable, at least.”

Éliane shrugged at that, but appreciated his move to rescue one of her parts from moving too far away from her. An old, barbarian ship like this was a terrible place to work on a gun, but it wasn’t like there was much else to do.

“Thanks. No, but I’ll need to do some work on a part or two. Those thugs weren’t maintaining this gun very well. No appreciation or knowledge of what they were using… though that works in favor of Valheim.”

How better to control a local criminal element than to supply them with weapons they couldn’t maintain? It was good that they busted part of it, at least.

She took a drink of the canteen before offering it back to Esben. “Have you finished cataloguing the rest of our spoils?”

”Eh? Other than what specifically applied to me, I didn’t pay too much mind to the rest of it. I think the others went through it all and decided what to do with it before we left for this boat.” Pilfered treasures and what to do with them was about as far out of his usual area as dealing with the rotary cannon; he’d gotten what he needed in the papers that Mizutani had left around her desk.

So long as the team didn’t run out of money or resources—exceedingly unlikely, given the details of the reward from Leonhart that they were not entitled to claim—he couldn’t really bring himself to care what happened with what they’d taken from the mansion. Nor was he entirely wanting to have every conversation focus just on their current mission, so it wasn’t a topic he intended to remain on for long.

”You know your family’s recipes, Éliane?”

She tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Esben tilted his head the opposite direction, giving a flat stare back.

”You know that’s not an implication here.”

The change in topic came easy enough to her, although Esben’s reply did not. She stared back. “I’m not sure what implication you’re implying from my question.”

”That I’m asking as though I worry you might not.”

Éliane set the part she was working on down as she fixed Esben with a stare of her own.

After a few beats, she finally spoke again. “Were you looking for a particular recipe?”

”...”

It was unclear if he was just continuing to stare silently for another few seconds out of sheer incredulousness, or if there was something else going on behind his blue eyes. After another moment, however, he looked away, glancing back out at the ocean.

”When we’re someplace with a proper oven, if I can find what you need, could you make me their arlettes?”

She didn’t answer immediately, rather taking the moment to pick up the metal part again and resume inspecting it. “Yes, I’ve seen the galley here. It is about what I expected from pirates.”

Éliane looked at the piece again, this time with a glass, frowning as she did so. That piece might need some work; she set it aside. “Looking for a taste of home already? I can do that, it would be nice to bake again.”

A pause. “Esben. Does cinnamon and the right flour even exist outside of Skael?”

”Cinnamon is an import. And flour is flour, isn’t it, so long as it’s the right grain?”

There was an abnormal, somewhat worrisome note of despair somewhere in his voice, though his face remained as impassive as ever. ”And...somewhat. Solitude was never home for me, although I liked the bakery far more than any of the rest of the city.”

He paused again.

”Especially compared to the room I was renting while I studied. It got rather draughty in the last year I was there, after somebody put her foot through the roof.”

“Right. We’ll have to see what grains are available in the markets at our destination,” she replied, raising the slightest hint of an eyebrow at the tone her fellow Skaelan had taken with that response. Her lips curved upwards. “I suppose I should be flattered on behalf of my family.”

It was now Éliane’s turn for another pause as she gave his last statement some consideration. She looked almost thoughtful. “But that’s rather unfortunate. Whatever lady that was should be more careful.”

”Somehow, I don’t think that careful really enters her mind all that often.”

“Hmm.”

---

Sakura flowers blowing in the breeze. A slight chill in the air as the sun set. The sky a clear blue without a single cloud to block the sun. It had been one of the many fantasies she had dreamed about when she thought about expressing her true feelings for Izayoi, the person she loved. She imagined her standing there in her pristine and masterfully crafted armor with a faint smile. Instead, Ciradyl was standing in her blood-stained dress and Izayoi was covered in the grime of battle.

Delicate hands pulled and twisted the edge of her dress as she struggled to find the right words to start the conversation that needed to be had. No more secrets. That much was necessary…no…required. Perhaps it was best to address what Hien said.

“I know it will likely take the approval of everyone but I would like to formally join you on your journey, if you would have me.” She had defaulted to the comfortable eloquent tone she had first greeted the Kirins with.

Ciradyl’s presence now that Hien was assuming full control of the resistance would only hinder operations going forward. After all, Ciradyl knew nothing about waging a war. Everything leading up to now was about survival, nothing else. The right move was to remove herself from the situation. There was also the issue of Renzo, but his fate she had left to Chisaki. One last loose end to close.

"I am not opposed to this, but my bias is evident and the decision is not up to myself alone." Izayoi said, considering. Only Arton and Galahad had presented any sort of strong reaction to the entire matter, but they were outvoted should they choose to speak up.

"Regardless, you already know the one stipulation I have. I am in agreement with the dragoon: do not try something like this again." She said firmly, looking Ciradyl dead in the eyes. "With that said, is there anything else you wish to speak of before we all turn in for the night? I imagine you will need to prepare your people for a transition of power."

That it would fall upon a group consensus she had expected. Nothing about their party suggested a strict hierarchy but it was clear that Izayoi and Galahad possessed the most influence being hardened veterans. Ciradyl had hoped Izayoi would accept her but it was still nice to be assured. Her softer gaze met Izayoi's but she did her best to express her resolve. ”I understand. I shall not allow such weakness to overcome me again.”. A flash of disappointment at herself appeared in her eyes. It would be difficult to adjust to more casual relationship. There was little chance she would be forgiven a second time

“The preparations had been progressing since I first spoke to the Skaellan agent, Esben, one night. He made me realize between Hien and Chisaki, I would no longer be needed. They have stepped into their roles exactly how I had hoped.” She spoke as if she had been ready for this day for a long time.

The brief pride suddenly fell flat. How much longer would she delay? There would be no chance of moving forward if this wasn't resolved. Ciradyl bit down on her tongue a little. “Izayoi, there is something I have been keeping from you…” It was now or never. ”I…was in love with you.” She felt her chest tighten the moment the last word left her lips.

Izayoi nodded as Ciradyl explained how prepared she was to commit to this course of action. Though barely two weeks’ time wasn’t much. She started to comment, but stopped as Ciradyl continued further. Izayoi fell silent.

Of all things, she hadn’t quite been expecting this. Considering Izayoi’s upbringing, Ciradyl had been just about her only close female friend in her life. Izayoi had never quite considered there to be any romantic undertone in their association, but perhaps she’d simply not been looking all that closely. Regardless, she was obligated to respond.

"Ciradyl…" Izayoi said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "It is good that you specified ‘was’. I am a widow of barely half a year and still in mourning. And I hold no attraction to women."

This was absolute truth. Izayoi had spent the year in between the end of her apprenticeship and falling into Lord Kaien’s service simply trying to find out what to do with herself. During that time, she’d realized her preferences in this regard for certain.

Those few moments before Izayoi’s reply felt like an eternity and the pressure of waiting was crushing. It was not difficult for Ciradyl to guess what the base of her reply would be, but it was the execution of her rejection she felt anxious for. Regardless of how it cut, she was now ready to accept she had been facing a wall instead of a locked door. A genuine smile came to her lips as the incredible weight was lifted. ”Even if you did, I do not believe it would change anything.”

Her smile grew as she said those words. ”I have come to better understand you over these years, more so since your return. The people we are now, no matter the attraction, would not be compatible that way. This I have painfully realized. Instead, I hope we can forge a deeper, different kind of bond as trusted comrades in arms.”

Thank the gods Ciradyl was being a mature adult about this. Izayoi wasn’t quite sure what she would have done had the Faye decided to act like a spurned maiden.

"Of course. Perhaps I won’t need to defend you, this time. I imagine one grows tired of that."

”It is not so terrible from time to time.”

The meeting had made Ciradyl realize something important. It was easy to imagine the worst possible scenarios to the point one was unable to make a move at all. Not everything can be executed perfectly and achieve the optimal outcome. A sly, mischievous grin that Izayoi had only seen before the war with Edren overtook her smile. ”I am eager to see what new exploits I can add to your ballad. I might even be able to write a play.”

"So help me, should I ever find your manuscript, I will burn it." Izayoi rolled her eyes in exasperation at the change in tone, half serious at the very least. "Truly, you’ll ensure I’ll never be able to show my face in public again should I survive this upcoming ordeal."

She felt a giggle leave her lips involuntarily at Izayoi’s fierce reply, that at least had not changed all these years. It was cathartic to laugh like that again and she felt the awkwardness that had shrouded their reunion fade. Whether or not she felt similarly, Izayoi was without a doubt her best friend in this vicious, uncertain world of theirs. The levity in her eyes softened. She had been a wife, a mother, and then a widow all in the time she had been gone.

”What was she like? Your child.” Her tone was soft, gentle as was her eyes as she asked such a delicate question. Ciradyl wanted her to know it would be okay not to answer. There may have been plenty in Osprey that would collapse in shock at the idea of the great butcher as mother, but not Ciradyl. How pleasant it would have been to visit and be called Aunt Ciri.

"Suzume?" Izayoi’s expression softened at the inquiry, a genuine smile running across her mouth, however slight it may be. "Always so spirited. Filled with energy. Curious, as well. I often had to keep a closer eye on her than I would have liked, lest she fall into the river or agitate an animal."

A few more moments passed in silence, with Izayoi reliving memories of the last three years in her mind.

"She was colic as a baby. Isshin had to reassure me that this was perfectly ordinary. Repeatedly. Fortunate that you’ve inured me to high-pitched screams within the theater over the years." She shot Ciri a casual smirk.

Ciradyl had remained quiet as Izayoi spoke about her precious daughter. To see that hardened expression loosen even the slightest amount made her nearly overwhelmed with joy. Whatever irritations she might have had about her going missing for six years vanished. It seemed like her child was a real firebrand just like her mother. A part of her wanted to cry over never being able to see the family that gave her such happiness, but the joy expressed in Izayoi’s eyes prevented her.

”I wished they would have shown a little restraint…” She feigned an exasperated look, then let out a short laugh.

”Who would have guessed that the great Izayoi’s greatest challenge was motherhood? What an amazing young lady. I will remember to ask my parents to thank him next time I offer my prayers.” A warmness carried in her voice along with a hint of longing. It was not because of the love she had confessed earlier, but that she had missed out on such a moment in her life. No, that was only a part of it.

”Who could have guessed that it would be you who started a family first?”

"I believe your mother once lamented that I might before you." Izayoi remarked dryly. "You would have had less of a challenge, I am sure. I hardly remember my birth parents, I had not a clue what I was doing." To say nothing of the fact that she had functionally been raised by a madman obsessed with the sword.

”That certainly sounds like her.” Ciradyl hung her for a moment. ”In theory, you might be right. It sounds like you managed alright and I’m sure Isshin was there to support you. All you had to do was send a letter and I could have helped as well.” She mimicked a hurt expression.

Izayoi rolled her eyes at Ciradyl’s obvious overacting, settling into a comfortable silence with her old friend as the night went on.