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.

Being on a boat was… a strange experience. It moved, which didn't bother her much at all; maybe all that napping in trees had come in handy. But the lack of space, of being confined to a space and crammed in with people… this was making for quite the uncomfortable experience, to Miina. Maybe this was why she had so quickly joined the night crew, sleeping off-sync with the rest of the team to get some time away from… everything.

Maybe that was why she was caught by surprise this first day. She pulled open the curtain that had been rigged to separate the hold into male and female sections—another thing she didn't get, but this was less surprising after seeing how everyone dressed outside of her home—and blinked. Had Miina remembered wrong? She thought this was the women's side but…

"Umm… R-Robin…?" Aaah… what did she DO? She couldn't just accuse a teammate of being a pervert!

Robin wasn't particularly used to sleeping on a boat. Honestly, it was the first time she'd traveled this way at all.

The closest she'd come before was when she'd paid to ride in a vehicle before, but those were all land-based. Being on the seas, rocking in this way---

It didn't make her sick, exactly, but it was definitely a strange experienced compared to what she was used to.

But she'd been able to handle it. A hero definitely wouldn't get thrown off just by a boat ride, after all. They traveled to all different kinds of places, from all sorts of distances, so it was no problem.

The close proximity with everyone wasn't really a problem either, but after that meeting Robin wasn't sure it was the best thing for everyone's emotional state.

In any case, she'd been getting ready to change when the curtain opened.

"Hm? Lady Miina?"

Why did the red mage seem so surprised? Had something happened?

"Is something wrong?"

… obviously? This was really awkward, it seemed very obvious that the heroically-inclined swordsman should be on the other side of the curtain! But to be so completely unaware, it… "Umm… the c-curtain? Th-this…"

… that wasn't going to explain anything, was it?

"The curtain?"

Robin tilted her head. Was there something wrong with it? Had it gotten torn somewhere? If that was the case, hopefully there was a spare somewhere. It'd be bad if there were any holes big enough to see through.

Not that Robin suspected any of their allies would be the type to peep, but an awkward accidental glance would still be embarrassing for everyone involved.

"If it's torn, maybe we can get a replacement or a patch put up," she suggested, "It shouldn't be too difficult, I think."

Err… no, it wasn't torn. She didn't think? Nope, another inspection clarified that it wasn't. Even if it was, she could have fixed it. Or maybe Izayoi would have fixed it first. They weren't exactly lacking in such skills, and there was always the chance even more of their little group could do such basic mending…

"M-More… y-you're here!"

The more Miina spoke, the more confused Robin became. There wasn't a tear, so what was the problem?

"Er... yes? I am?" Robin replied, unable to help her confusion. Where else would she be? Especially given she was going to change.

"Did you want to talk to me...?"

It didn't seem as if she did, though.

"Why are y-you here?" Surely Robin should be on the other side. It wasn't that confusing, was it? Just… don't go through the curtain…? Miina didn't care, but she wasn't anywhere near as stabby as Izayoi, which… was really the main concern. Or maybe Eliane would do something? Hmm, she was hard to predict…

Now Robin was truly lost.

Was there some reason for her not to be here? She didn't get it at all. Did Miina think she'd be training elsewhere? Or that she'd have chosen somewhere else to sleep? But why would she even think that in the first place?

"I don't think I understand, Lady Miina," she responded, confusion plain on her face, "Where else do you think I would be?"

"On t-the other side of the c-curtain…" the girl finally spat out, looking everywhere but at Robin. Having to spell it out like this… she hadn't thought the swordsman was that dense, this sort of oblivious misunderstanding was usually her problem. Or maybe something she might expect from Eve by now, followed by explosions.

"On the other side of the curtain...?"

But why would she be? That doesn't make the least bit of sense. Why would Miina think she should be on the other side?

Robin wracked her brain. It would definitely be innappropriate for her to be on the male side, right? Besides, she wasn't sure she could handle that at all, so why---

Wait.

"Hold on, Lady Miina."

Robin couldn't believe it, but at the same time she couldn't think of any reason for the other girl to think this way.

"Do you think I'm a man...?"

"W-W-W-Well… um…" She had been so sure! Robin was so boyish and… maybe she just hadn't been looking closely enough? If she got a better look, surely…

If there was one good thing about Miina suddenly straddling her lap, it was that the girl weighed barely anything without her full getup and armour on. Both in terms of being somewhat more comfortable, and not immediately having the fastenings holding the hammock come undone.

On the other hand, it meant that Robin was now contending with a Mystrel laser-focused on examining her face, the tiny redhead holding her head steady and staring intently. Hmm, really, this close it was more that Robin's bearing and outfit tended to disguise it, as well as being about as flat as Miina herself was… oh, and all the high collars, that didn't help; she could really tell now.

Ah, and the smell. Getting this close did answer her question.

"y-you're right!"

Wait why was she getting on her lap like this?!

Having sat down to put her socks on, Robin was completely unprepared for what almost felt like a direct assault on her composure.

There probably weren't many people who could withstand suddenly being examined like this even ignoring the fact that Miina had decided to climb on top of her.

'What would a hero do?' was struggling to even rise in her mind as Robin attempted to lean back, flustered.

Her cheeks colored as she tried to get a little bit more space.

"I-Is this really necessary, Lady Miina?!"

"Mmm…" It wasn't much of an answer, the smaller girl just continuously leaning forwards as Robin tried to lean back and gain space, until she was pretty much flat on her back. For a second she would no doubt be wondering what she could possibly be doing in this position—

Then there was another mumbling sound, and Miina's grip slacking around her shoulders. With the way her head had fallen…

The Mystrel had fallen asleep. On top of her.

"..."

Was... was she really that tired? Was Miina seriously so exhausted that after confirming that she was supposed to be here she immediately fell asleep?!

---If that's the case, she must have been completely worn out. So of course she needed to get to sleep, but did she really have to do it right on top of her?!

Robin raised her arms slowly, then lowered them. This definitely wasn't a scenario she'd even begun to expect she'd ever face.

"... L... Lady Miina..."

What did she do now?!

---

Before too much more of the night had passed them by, the party had finished their roundabout discussions, those who’d been unable to force any food down before assaulting the mansion enjoying a small supper before they all retired from the meeting. Most paid at least a quick visit to the bathhouses within the safehouse complex, Esben among them—while his hair had been remarkably well cleaned by Eve’s bit of magic, that still left the rest of him to wash. Not long after he’d settled in his room, all of Mizutani’s papers he’d managed to find spread on the low table before him, scanning through them once more while setting the most recent span of events straight in his mind.

Luckily, he’d long since taken to journaling his days extensively; while it did make for extra writing to do whenever he had to draft his reports, it was remarkably handy when it came to making sure every important detail was accounted for. He’d just finished writing down the day’s events, flipping back to just after they’d rescued Hien, when he heard a knock on the frame of the room’s sliding door. The relative lack of noise from whoever it was ruled out quite a few possibilities, as the majority of the team wasn’t quiet enough to go so unnoticed, nor were the servants; among those left, fewer still were naturally so soft footed, and the one that was wouldn’t have bothered knocking, as she wouldn’t have come unless called.

Two options left. The silhouette through the thin door lacked one particularly defining pair of features, though their homologues weren’t visible...likely her head was turned.

”Come in, Ciradyl.”

The sliding of the door produced more noise than her footsteps did and she slipped inside the room, closing it behind her. She gracefully made her way over to the same seat she had taken the last time they spoke and sat across from him. Ciradyl wore a flowing, pastel pink-coloured nightgown that she smoothed out underneath as she made herself comfortable. A light floral scent came from her and her hair had a light dampness. Her delicate, dainty hands bore the signs she might have been soaking for longer than recommended.

“Thank you for what you said.” Her tone indicated that it was more of a courtesy than what she actually wanted to speak about.

She wouldn’t deny that she felt a bit of affection for the Skaellan after he eloquently defended her, but it didn’t take much to dismiss the feelings. Ciradyl's gaze lowered to the documents he was shifting through, likely searching for information that would support their efforts against Valheim or bolster Skael's position. It was not that she didn't like him at all. Quite the contrary, she appreciated his odd but professional demeanour and had deemed him a person she could depend on.

“I suppose I should be honored to receive such a positive review by one of Skael's finest.” There was a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion carried by her words.

Esben’s report remained unwritten for the time as Ciradyl came in and sat across from him. For a moment, he’d wondered just what the purpose of the visit was likely to be, especially as she thanked him for his input earlier, gaining a small nod in response...though between her tone, and the clearly flattering comment that came after, those wonders slipped away. The practiced grace, refined bearing, perfumed scent, those were all hallmarks to be expected of an upper class artist; but there had long since been more to Ciradyl than just the singer she had been before.

Alongside that, once again she chose to visit him in her bed clothes. The article was something befitting her status, certainly, but wearing it to such a meeting was still beyond what would be considered professional, proprietous, or even simply friendly.

”Are you trying to catch me off guard?” he asked, the flattery going unacknowledged, the well-fit, dainty nightgown ignored aside from the initial glance to note its presence. ”Or were you hoping to gain something from me that your closest friend can’t give you?”

She shrugged her shoulders in a small motion and replied to the first question. “Perhaps, if it were so easy.“ It did confirm something for her. What he asked next made her eyes widen for a moment before she brushed it off. He was someone who had been trained at the famous Garden so she had been intrigued with how he operated. There seemed to be a clear separation between work and personal matters. In fact, she wondered if she had ever seen him take a break from so-called professional conduct since they first met. “Hmm. Perspective, perhaps. You gave me much to consider last time, after all.”

Was it better to be Ciradyl the Bard or Ciradyl the Spy in her dealings with Esben? She might be able to coax more of what lies underneath with the former option. The latter one would likely be more appropriate given their relationship and how he seemed to carry himself. “I wear this nightgown simply because you fail to offer a meaningful reaction to it. I find it comforting in a strange way. Ignoring that, It seems as though we will be working together moving forward.” Her tone had fallen into the way she had conducted herself prior to the Mizutani incident. The bard and spy were both facets of her being and she had to learn to accept that. Unlike Izayoi, the one Esben would get to know would be the spy.

Esben tilted his head to the side in a show of mild curiosity at her response, before giving an approving nod at the answer. Managing to give a reply without rising to any provocation was a useful skill for anybody, although he had noticed the slight, momentary widening of her eyes, and the short pause gathering her thoughts before she replied. Evidently, though, she hadn't understood quite what he was getting at behind the question.

Not unexpected, given everything else that night. ”You've been under quite a bit of stress lately,” he stated quietly. An obvious observation to make for anybody with eyes to see. ”And we're leaving in little more than a day. You should be relaxing, not talking about how much we're about to work together.”

Had he had a pot with him, he'd have offered her a cup of tea—instead, he at least kept two cups ready with the pitcher of water on the table, pouring one for Ciradyl. ”I don't know that the perspective I can offer will be something you'll particularly like, though I'm still happy to help where I can. But I did mean what I said earlier with everything about how you must be feeling through all of this.”

“How I am feeling…?” It caught her off-guard. Right. A strong mental state was necessary to maintain peak performance during operations. That must have been what he had meant. She took a sip of the water he had poured for her, holding it with both hands. Regardless, she wanted to focus on something else thus her desire to discuss strategy, methods, or anything. Anything to take her mind off it all. Couldn’t he guess such a simple motive? Her grip on the cup tightened. No. He knew, and worse of all he was right.

The only ones that could see right through her like this were Chisaki and Izayoi. This business with Mizutani and coming to face her past had clearly clouded her judgement. “I do appreciate the sentiment and concern. As for now, talking with you is helping take my mind off things.” A darkness coloured her expression briefly as she thought of Renzo. She had given Chisaki clear instructions to end his life with as much honour and dignity that could be given. That was likely happening right about now. His death…would haunt her the most out of all she put to the blade.

Her expression eased back into a gentle one. “If you are able to read through all of those, you might know me better than Izayoi,” Ciradyl mused while taking a second sip. Their conversations reminded her a lot of how it was back then. There was rarely small talk and they hadn’t begun to know personal details about each other until quite a bit later.

”Whoever Mizutani Tane thought you were, perhaps, though I have my doubts as to whether or not that actually lets me know you.” With a quick and practiced hand, he swept the splayed-out documents back into a neat pile, clearing up the space on the small table. ”I still think Izayoi will have the rest of us beat when it comes to that. But, given that you prefer to take your mind off of tonight’s topics—”

His journal snapped shut, and he laid it alongside the documents taken from Mizutani’s office and his actual ledger. ”Why don’t you talk about how you got to know Izayoi, what the both of you were like back then?”

Ciradyl simply shrugged her shoulders again, thinking that there was likely insight into her character through the tinted glasses of Mizutani. Actually, a bit of colour came to her cheeks wondering exactly what Mizutani had written. She wanted to move past that topic of conversation so she decided to agree with his proposal.

”It was actually because of Mizutani that we became friends. I had gone to a tea shop I loved to frequent and there was no tables available. I saw Izayoi sitting alone so I decided to join her.” She giggled lightly. ”As you might imagine, she wasn't much for conversation but I didn't mind. Our reputations in Osprey were on the rise at the time so it was pleasant to enjoy a comfortable silence. We mused over some shared liking of bergamot tea when a group of brigands barged into the tea shop.” It was one of her fondest memories.

”They were henchmen of Mizutani sent to abduct me and Izayoi came to my defence so I’ll just let you picture what happened. From there, we met regularly at the same table at the same tea shop. We would speak honestly with each other and lament our personal trials.” Light faded from her eyes once again for a split moment.

”Mmm. The war with Edren, yes?” He declined to offer any comment on the giggle she had, remembering the time she’d nearly been kidnapped as one of her fondest memories. He’d overheard Izayoi describing him as eccentric too many times just to the other members of the Kirins to lay too much judgement at that. ”I can’t imagine you’d really gone into this trade at that point.”

”No, my contributions were taking people’s minds off the war and later helping the sick and wounded when the war turned for the worse. My name had just begun to spread outside of Osprey when the war with Edren began. Each time I would meet with Izayoi there seemed to be a darker shadow lingering over her…so I began to tease her that I had started putting her deeds into ballads. I think if I were ever to perform one in front of her she would take my head.” A lamenting sigh escaped her lips and then when she realised the next step in the story she faltered. The mask of cheerfulness she had been donning shattered.

”Izayoi’s reported death was difficult to bear. The one person I trusted and cherished the most was gone. I may have been able to grieve and move on had it not been Valheim’s subsequent invasion. Our nation’s greatest champion had perished and there was no one left to hold it all together. I started taking out those who either did or would betray our nation, which is what led me to Chisaki. It was not long before I realised it would not be enough just to take out a few persons of interest here and there. The mission scope soon grew larger than I had ever imagined.” She stopped there. The cup was empty yet she still held it tightly in her hands.

From which, everything clearly led into what they had all just discussed, a topic which was—as could only be expected—still bothering her, despite the fact that the team all understood. It was as he and the others had said, regarding such feelings of guilt. ”Mmm. Been tense for a while, haven’t you?” He slid the pitcher of water across the table, a clear expectation for her to pour herself another glass, before standing up from his cushion.

Then, pushing a small chest over behind Ciradyl. ”Do you mind? It’ll be hard enough for you to sleep if you don’t manage to relax your neck and shoulders somehow.”

Her eyes lowered to the pitcher and poured more water into the cup, finally releasing the death-like grip she had been exerting on it. ”There have not been many opportunities to relax.” Even now, there was a part of her that was on edge. What if Chisaki failed? Esben unexpectedly standing dislodged this thought before it could take root. Ciradyl froze for a split-second at the implications of his words, looking at him with something she had never expressed before even as the truth about her actions became known. Fear.

”I-I would hate to trouble you. I-I was not planning on sleeping much.” What a pathetic excuse, she thought. It might have been natural to refuse exposing a weak-point to one with a known SEED association but her trepidation had nothing to do with a potential assassination.

Esben raised an eyebrow at the sudden change. ”It’s no trouble, Ciradyl. I won’t push if you’re so uncomfortable, but it’s like you said—we are going to be working together quite a bit, and that includes taking care of each other’s needs, like making sure you can relax enough to get the rest you need.”

Embarrassing was not even a word that could accurately fit in this situation. Why was it this hard to get a read on this Skaellan? First, he had so casually sat against her during the meeting and now…what was he even offering? No, she had to collect herself and project the presence held by one of her station. ”You would use my own words against me? Fine. You may go ahead if you think it will help.” But it was all a front. Her whole body seemed to tense up.

Esben took a seat on the chest as she turned back away, shaking his head. ”Really, it’s not half so combative as you make it sound,” he chided, raising his fingers up to the base of Ciradyl’s skull and beginning to gently massage the taut muscles in her neck. ”You’ll make sure to tell me if anything hurts, ja? Otherwise, feel free to keep talking if you’re comfortable, I’ll still be listening.”

Ciradyl couldn’t help but tense the muscles further the moment his fingers touched, but slowly relaxed as he carried on. The anxiety that swirled in her chest remained but she could bear it. Esben couldn’t have been more wrong. This was indeed a battle though one she alone was fighting. The longer it went on, however, the easier it seemed to be and the more she relaxed her shoulders. ”I shall let you know if it does.

It was difficult to continue where she had left off with her mind racing as it was. Trains of thought came and went as she tried to figure out the right words. That was when a question of her own came to mind. ”Esben. How do you divide your personal life and work?” It was a frank question that didn’t conceal hidden objectives.

Esben silently continued to work at Ciradyl's slowly-softening muscles with his fingertips, moving from her neck to her shoulders. ”My personal life,” he echoed quietly, his subdued voice sounding lost in thought for the moment. His hands continued to knead at her shoulders even as it became clear his thoughts were trending elsewhere, though before Ciradyl could have reason to worry about his response he started to speak up again.

”I enjoy the small conversations I can have, like this, or like with Eve, Izayoi, all of you—but I'd be lying if I said my occupation here was ever far from my mind. Often, you all manage to turn things back in that direction before long.” His hands came to a stop, resting lightly on the Faye's shoulders. One finger on his right hand started tapping rhythmically, mindlessly.

Before he started to massage her shoulders again, catching a knot under one thumb. ”I haven't had much of one for a while, I think. Not since I began to study at the Garden...there's only so much time in the day, after all. What about you?”

Her eyes closed half-way, thankful that she was facing away from so he couldn’t see her tired expression. The tension releasing from her shoulders had indeed brought sleep closer. It became a struggle to keep her focus on what Esben had been saying. Perhaps she struggled because it sounded so familiar. Was there even a divide present or had they become hopelessly intertwined? ”Me? I do not believe I have had the luxury of a personal life since Valheim invaded, but moments like this give me hope that might change.”

A nearly quiet yawn escaped from her as her drowsiness began to take hold. ”I think I shall retire for the night. It would be improper of me to fall asleep here.” She turned her head back slightly with a smile and slowly rose back to her feet. ”Thank you for listening, Esben.” Was all that was spoken as she briefly turned to face him, gave a light curtsy, and headed for the door.

Esben raised his eyebrow again as she walked for the door. ”So that's improper, but visiting me in your bed clothes isn't?” he mused, playing along with the joke for the moment. ”If it helps, feel free to visit me any time, Ciradyl.”

Ciradyl took a step from the door after it closed, froze, and slowly turned back to the door. The possibility of catching something not meant for her ears intrigued her. Her hand absent-mindedly reached out and felt the grain of the wooden frame on her fingertips. She uttered a quiet scoff and pulled her hand back and proceeded on her way, a slightly warm feeling in her cheeks.

He stood from his makeshift stool, pushing the small chest back against the wall where it had been, taking his actual seat again as he pulled his journal back over and opened it again, flipping through a few pages towards the back of the book. Just as he kept good notes on each day's major events, he'd long since taken to putting down notes about those he travelled with—even if only to make sure he didn't risk forgetting something that may be important. Given that Ciradyl was going to be joining them for the foreseeable future, it only made sense to push sleep off a bit further to add a new page. Not that sleep had been terribly forthcoming in the last few days. Tired in the day, restless at night...

And the intermittent headaches that continued to plague him, despite what Miina and the local healer they'd found had done to try and alleviate any remaining symptoms, one of which had decided the last half of that conversation had been the best time to start coming in.

Esben pushed an offending lock of hair out from his eyes, focusing down on the page before him. ”Maybe telling Eve she didn't need to check in on me tonight was a poor decision,” he wondered to himself as he started to write again.

---

Arton had returned to his room right after the meeting concluded feeling irritated, guilty, but most of all exhausted. There had never been a point he could remember feeling so tired. All the various layers of armor he adorned himself in felt restrictive for the first time and he haphazardly began to peel, rip, and toss pieces off as he made his way to his bed. The entire time he grumbled about the rest of the party so easily accepting Ciradyl's actions. Worse than that, he had spent all those restless night searching for information on Reisa with no real clues to show for it.

He barely made it to the edge of the mattress before he simply collapsed onto the soft sheets. The fight at Mizutani's manor wasn't even that intense but he surmised that it simply his body being so deprived of proper rest. An annoyed sigh came out as he figured he should have had one of Ciradyl's servants fetch him some tea to relax. It was too much to bother now that he already stripped down and laid on the bed. One night. One night of solid sleep was all he asked for. In fact, he muttered a silent prayer to Etro for just enough to get through the next day. The gravity of Ciradyl's schemes circled in his mind as he feel alseep.

---

The elegant carriage rocked gently on the road, the crest of the Auclaire Noble House proudly present on the doors of both sides. There were multiple House Guard riding in front, behind, and alongside the carriage covering any and all possible points of approach. The current head of the Auclaire Noble House was the current Overseer and inside this carriage was his younger brother and his family. They were on their way back to their estate after traveling to the capital to discuss policy amidst the other noble houses.

The younger brother of the overseer was a man named Mathieu. His wife was Helene Auclaire and was sitting next to her husband currently watching over the two little ones across from them. One was their only child, a son named Lionel, and the other was a commoner girl named Furi that they had taken into their household as a companion to Lionel. They had been raising Lionel to one day become Overseer while Furi had received some simple training on her path to become a House Guard. Their hope was that Furi would become an indomitable bodyguard and advisor for their son.

Lionel’s feet dangled off the seat as he kicked them back and forth idly ”Furi, I’m bored!” The young master complained to his friend, much to his mother’s relief. Furi, on the other hand, maintained a good posture and had remained mostly quiet throughout the trip. An idea seemed to flash in her eyes I know, Lio! Let’s play I spy!. A short giggle from the boy was enough for an answer. Lionel pulled up himself up to see out of the carriage’s window ”Okay, I spy with my little eye…”

Within the heavily-guarded carriage of the Skaellan House of Auclaire, the two juveniles - one of noble birth, the other commoner - continued playing their little game. They spied many things; a stationary tree, a young buck prancing about, a climbing squirrel, and even something as minuscule as a chirping songbird, none escaped the notice of the two bright, keen-eyed youngsters.

Thus, it was inevitable that eventually, they spotted a black-clad 'scarecrow' half-hidden behind a trunk.

”...a scarecrow!”

Hold on, a scarecrow...?

Mathieu and Helene's curious bewilderment were abruptly answered as a sigil, multiple sigils activated all at once on ground, right underneath the carriages.

"And... boom~"

What followed next could only be described as an unpleasant surprise as multiple explosions rocked the street, products of the pyromantic spell embedded within the ground-bound sigils. Heat and shockwave in equal measure assaulted the convoy, assaulting men, steeds, and carriage alike. However, despite the sheer potency of the trap, not all of the House Guard personnel perished in the initial blasts, perhaps a testament to the Skaellan House Guard's formidable reputation.

Alas, whoever was orchestrating the attack was intimately familiar with this as the "scarecrow", along with others of its ilk, began aiming their weapons and started firing volleys after volleys of bullets, peppering what was left of the convoy with lethal projectiles, coming at them from all sides.

One of the explosions that struck the family’s carriage shredded one of its doors and threw Mathieu and Helene free from the cabin as it twisted in the air. The twisted wreckage of the carriage skidded to a stop a short distance away.

Lio! Lio! Lio! Get up! Get up! Lio! Furi screamed, or moreso cried, as she shook her friend awake.

She had sustained a few scratches on her arms and legs but was otherwise okay. Lionel, on the other hand, seemed to have hit his head if the small trail of blood coming from his forehead indicated. Furi might have been crippled by fear of the thunderous sounds outside if not for him. Relief washed over her for a brief moment as he opened his eyes weakly ”Furi…? His confusion did not last long as a stray shot struck off the side of the carriage.

It might have been safer to stay inside but there was a problem. Smoke had begun to rise into the cabin from under the carriage ”Come on, Lio!

The street was littered with shredded bodies and torn up carriages. What paltry force remained moved in on the two nobles that had been flung from their carriage in the initial attack. They were taking too many losses, too quick but at the very least they had to get their charges out of the area. A larger House Guard practically pulled the two into cover and Mathieu resisted him despite his severe injuries “The kids!” That was about all he could think to say. None of the situations made sense to him even if his ears weren’t ringing already. The larger man clicked his tongue. He never did get the chance to voice any kind of displeasure as a rifle round silenced any chance of that happening. There was nowhere to hide.

Though many thoughts raced through Mathieu's mind, other than the concern for his loved ones, one certainly reigned above the others; ambushes and assassination attempts were to be expected amongst nobility, the House Guard corps would be a redundant waste of manpower and resources otherwise, but this particular one had been so precise, so unexpected, it felt as if their enemy knew every little details of their routine; the exact route they were going to take, their schedule, and even down to how many personnel would be employed for the trip. The most obvious conclusion to this was the likely possibility of a mole being involved. Regardless, none of this would matter if they perish today.

Volley after volley continued relentlessly, and it had only gotten worse as explosives were thrown into the mix, landing amidst the wreckage before promptly erupting, massacring anyone who might still be alive and as a final insult to injury, mutilating those who were already corpses into splattered chunks of gore and viscera.

Only a singular minute had passed since the sigils activated and already, most of the entourage was either dead or incapacitated. Smoke and debris filled the air, obscuring vision. But eventually, the bullets and bombs stopped coming.

... ... ...

Mathieu coughed harshly, spewing blood as his broken body held on to dear life. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the unmoving form of his beloved wife Helene, while his son and adopted daughter were nowhere to be seen. And then, footsteps, light and dainty, as if a dancer meticulously waltzing in-between the strewn corpses and debris, close yet never touching. Then they stopped right in front of the dying noble. His eyes widened in recognition, but before he could utter a single word, a glinting razor-sharp stiletto silenced him...

His murderer curled a loving smile even as her other hand caressed the dead noble's cheek, "Don't you worry, milord, I won't let your son be an orphan, I'll send him to you and your dear wife soon, fufu~" The killer whispered before she stood up, swiped the blood clean from her small blade, then continued on her way, searching for her next victim to fulfill her promise. Now, if only there was a convenient way to locate him... aha~

Meanwhile, the young Lionel would hear the pained groans and whimpers of his mother, ”My son... where’s my son...?” She rasped, desperately seeking her one and only child.

The first one to emerge from the overturned carriage was Furi. She reached down into the carriage, after climbing up herself, and pulled Lionel up with all her might onto the top with her. He was still a little unsteady with his footing but was able to stand with her support. Her eyes, like gleaming rubies, looked over the carnage when she spotted Loki and her face lost all color. “Lio, we need to go. Lio!” A small hand tugged on the noble’s son's arm, trying to pull him away before he saw it.

MAMAAA!!! Lionel cried, tearing away from Furi’s attempt to hold him back.

Lionel clumsily climbed down the side of the carriage as Furi desperately tried to get his attention again. He nearly stumbled over himself as he ran over to his mother. His face was flushed and tears streamed down his cheeks as he knelt next to her. Furi stood next to him as he interacted with the corpse as though his mother was still alive, hanging on by a thread. Lionel’s childish mind seemed unable to process the cruel reality in front of him. Furi realized something that sent shivers down her spine. There was no way Helene said those words in the state her body was in

Furi was more athletic than her friend but his raw strength was enough to tear away and end up closer to that monster. Her chest ached with how fast her heart was beating and every part of her wanted to run away. The carnage and horror around her was blocked out so she could summon the courage to at least move her feet. A vile sensation crawled through her skin as she felt the eyes of an apex predator fall onto her as she took position out in front of Lionel. Trembling hands held up a shortsword with a determined look in her eyes. What stared her down was a monster in human skin.

Furi! Why- Lionel cried out in confusion as he looked up at her. It was the sight of the one beyond that caused him to freeze with fear. The very air felt heavy with the looming threat of death.

Hook, line, and sinker, all it took was a little mimicry and the lamb came all by himself, right into his own slaughter. The murderer of two of House Auclaire's finest was about to add yet another entry into her list. At least, that was her plan until a tiny girl stood between her and her prey. Oh, how cute~ The lamb had a guardian pup. Right, this child was 'Furi', wasn't it? Some commoner that the late Duke adopted to be molded into his son's watchdog. Reports said they treated Furi like their own daughter, a lowborn... yet living the life of nobility, how... preposterous.

It was almost as if the gods played a cruel joke on her, in fact, they most certainly did. Well, two can play that game.

Twirling the stiletto in her right hand, the thin blade glinted as the unidentified assailant curled a most wicked grin, "Alas, if only you know how much your courage is wasted serving these decadent fools." She cooed, like a demented child who couldn't wait to pluck the wings off a fly then letting it live, "Honestly, I pity you, pup, so I might just let you live." A lie? No, certainly not, "Step aside and let me finish my hunt, or you can die together with him..." But this one was, at least half of it.

Furi drowned out everything around here except for the avatar of death in front of her. Burning wrecks of the carriages they rode in. Gore strewn about violently in all directions. Corpses of people she knew and cherished. Anguished cries of the one she was chosen to protect. The beating of her own, trembling heart. She could let nothing in lest she lock up and become another body for the pile. Her grip tightened around the shortsword, that felt so heavy now, until her knuckles turned white.

Loki’s words had sent shivers down her spine, enough to nearly bring her to tears. The fear was so intense it left little room for anger. Furi, however, had already made up her mind. ”RUUNNN, LIO!!! Her little lungs screamed so hard she could feel her vocal cords strain as she made the first move. Furi charged towards Loki pointing her sword’s tip towards her chest. She didn’t bother to look to see if he had followed her command.

"Oh my my~" This little puppy still had fight in her, hmm, perhaps Mathieu and Helene weren't completely clueless after all, there's a reason why they bothered adopting this commoner who'd otherwise be beneath their notice. Heh, she could use this... yes, what would be a better irony than sending an attack dog after its own masters? But this one was still an infant, she required more... polish.

However, there was nothing saying they couldn't start early.

"Come, pup! Entertain me!"

For the next minute or two, surrounded by smoke, debris, flames, and fresh corpses, Loki humored Furi's pitiful attempts at protecting the only descendant of Mathieu's lineage. The significantly taller and older Sollan danced around the wounded young girl's clumsy footwork, smirking, chuckling, and dare she could say, even enjoying herself. At times, the assassin grazed her blade close yet not quite touching Furi's skin, making it clear that she could've ended this at any time and it was only through the kindness of her heart that she hadn't.

Eventually, Loki grinned, "Congratulations, you've passed." Then with a solid smack, she chopped the child's neck hard enough to incapacitate her, yet soft enough to keep her alive.

With Furi out of the way, the assailant turned her attention to Lionel, a most sadistic leer on her visage as she stepped closer to the boy, savoring every single second. She drank in the boy's terror and despair, relishing in the power she had over these detestable nobles, not so high-and-mighty now, were they? Loki bent forward, smiling with faux affection, placed her lips right beside Lionel's ear, then cooed...

"The Garden sends their regards..."

The young noble had cried out his friend’s name as her body fell onto the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. Everything in this moment burned into the deepest reaches of his mind as Loki approached him, unable to deny reality any longer. He wished he had been a better son for his parents. He wished he had listened properly to his tutors and elders when they tried to teach him something. He wished he hadn’t taken Furi’s companionship for granted.

He fell backwards catching him with his arms and slowly crawled back, unwilling to take his eyes off Loki for a moment but unable to run away. Lionel flinched when she bent down and felt a terrible chill run down his neck at her words. His body trembled but the fear was too great to even utter a sound. Bright blue eyes closed tight preparing himself for whatever pain came with death.

Alone, helpless, and terrified, she almost felt pity for the pathetic whelp crawling beneath her, just almost, as the thought of the boy's noble blood brought upon such vindictive hatred to Loki that it drowned everything else out. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to purge this malignant tumor upon the world, let one live and they'd multiply like rats; their extermination must be complete, down to the last man, woman, and last but not least, child.

“Head down!” A sharp, male voice pierced the air. Lionel barely caught a glimpse of the metal that slashed for Loki.

Loki’s assailant was one of the greatest agents to ever come out of the Garden. A bonafide living legend if half of the stories told about him were true. Those same stories reportedly said that the man, Cyth, was supposed to be retired yet here he was. His face was devoid of any meaningful expression but he had clearly put power into his strike.

"...?!!" The assassin was so engrossed in toying with her prey, and then made worse by the sheer skill displayed by the former agent, that she nearly fell victim to Cyth's strike, and only through the unintended side-effect of his warning that she could manage to keep her head by leaning back, the blade grazing her skin and cutting a few locks of blonde hair. "...!" She gritted her teeth, immediately recognizing who he was, Cyth, a living legend in the world of espionage, what was he doing here? Why now? When she was so, so close to finishing the job!

Unwilling to face the risk of being identified, or worse, captured, Loki deemed that a direct confrontation with the ex-SEED was folly and made the split-second decision to salvage what she could. Without another word, literally so, the turncoat turned tail and retreated, but not before grabbing the unconscious Furi with her. Fret not, she'd turn this setback into a future advantage.

She promised him that...

Cyth clicked his tongue in aggravation as Loki fled with the unconscious Furi unable to get a solid look at her. He may have been inclined to pursue but that would leave the young lord vulnerable to her allies. Lionel briefly stopped crying as the sudden presence of Cyth registered in his mind. Cyth groaned as he hoisted Lionel up and over his shoulder, not wanting to deal with potential reinforcements “Hang on, kid.” He said before taking off in the opposite direction from Loki.

He sat the young lord down on a wooden crate once they had gotten some distance from the attack site. Heavy eyes looked down on the sobbing child “What do I do with you…?”

---

A cold sweat trickled down the sides of his face as Arton lurched forward, his pitched breathing causing his lungs to suck in air and expel it just as fiercely. His right hand rose to cup his face and squeeze, desperately trying to regain his composure. What an intense night terror. He had been taken back to that awful place again. A severe queasiness overcame him as the rest of his body caught up and he reached for the nearest bucket and hurled.

Why now...why show me this..? But there was no one present that could answer him.

---

Though they were now part of the same troupe and had been working together even before Ciradyl’s official initiation into Team Kirin, the fact remained that she didn't know every single one of her teammates equally; some were old friends spanning decades like Izayoi and some others were practically acquaintances, someone who just so happened to fight on the same side, and one black mage was undoubtedly in the latter group.

They had never talked to each other on a personal level and everything they did together always involved the other members to accomplish an objective or two. So perhaps, it was the ever fickle strings of fate that led the two white-haired Kirins to this moment.

This... peculiar moment.

"Ah..." The black mage perked up as she noticed the bard's presence, raising her head from the bird she was munching on, back at the half-eaten hunted game, then returning to said bard. A momjentary silence fell between them, accompanied only by the constant breeze courtesy of a moving ship before Eve blinked with some sort of epiphany, "I caught it earlier. Want some? We can cook it first if you'd like."

There was a lightness now in Faye's step that had been clearly absent after Mizutani’s demise. Each drunken chorus of the sailors was accompanied by a magical melody drawn from Ciradyl’s exquisite violin. She had not been made aware but there had been many a brawl in the underbelly of the ship as to who would have the right to woo her. It was nearly impossible to remember the last time she had enjoyed herself like this. Despite this, there was a lot to be desired when it came to the quality of the food.

Ciradyl had been walking through the ship looking a little dejected at this fact when she stumbled upon a peculiar sight. Her head cocked slightly to the side as she spotted Eve enjoying the raw meat of some kind of poultry. She had vaguely recalled that the monster had little need to eat so watching her waste such a valuable ingredient by simply eating it raw. All she needed was to figure out a way to get her to part with some of it and get a few spices from the ship’s cook. The sudden offer this creature made caught her off guard. ”If you wouldn’t mind.” She declared after making a light cough to clear her throat.

She hadn’t planned on interacting with the weapon that much, if at all. The rest had seemed to more or less accept that a Valheim superweapon was walking amongst them. What made it worse is the seemingly lack of emotion other than a hate for her creators. That hate could evolve to humanoids and maybe all life in general. Besides, there was nothing that guaranteed Valheim didn’t possess a kind of switch and all they were waiting for was the right moment once they got into range. Despite this, her expression softened picturing Eve as almost a younger sister. It had not been long ago that her own emotions had been suppressed and it was only because she had experienced them before that they could be replicated when needed. ”Are you familiar with grilling this particular bird?”

"Personal experience suggests that most sapients prefer their meat cooked," Eve explained matter-of-factly, "Ah, except for certain kinds of cuisine where the rawness of the flesh is the point, such as Osprey's sashimi." But, enough of that, the point had been made and they weren't here to discuss the ins-and-outs of cultural cuisine.

Speaking about the Faye Bard, it seemed she had recovered from her neurasthenia. Good, she needed to focus to properly vanquish the true enemy, the festering source of her people's woes, Valheim.

However, for now, they could share this flying dodo, and unlike the rations Izayoi forced Eve to eat back in Atsu, this bird was ‘guilt-free’, she hunted it herself from the wild, a blast of arcane winds was enough to incapacitate it then it was simply a matter of plucking it off the sky. "Yes, based upon my past odysseys with various adventurers, this species is a popular game, well-known for its succulent meat and savory fat." She'd then hand over the creature to Ciradyl, "But I shall allow you to cook it in whatever manner you wish.'"

There was zero revulsion in Ciradyl’s expression as she graciously took the raw meat from Eve. Her father had taught her to skin various game animals like this so she harbored no issue handling it. ”Perfect. Allow me to thank you with a delicious dish in return. I believe the cook of this vessel would lend me the kitchen for a short time.” It might have been her merchant blood but Ciradyl had quickly endeared herself to the crew that practically treated her like a celebrity.

”Good afternoon, Kazou. I have a favor to ask but may I borrow your kitchen?” Kazou had been mildly startled but after listening he soon smiled “'Course ya can, Lady Ciradyl. Whatcha makin’?” His speech was coarse but friendly. Ciradyl moved further into the kitchen and laid the creature onto a dull, metal tray that had been laid out ”A poultry dish with some herb and garlic if you can spare spoke.” It had been a request but Kazuo must have taken it as an order as he nodded fervently “No problem! I’ll get it right away.” He said with strong conviction before taking his leave through a different door than the ladies had come from.

The gentle smile Faye normally wore changed slightly with the muscles in her face relaxing and the edges of her lips curving higher. Servants had been in charge of preparing her meals since she assumed her position in the resistance so she hoped she would not disappoint her mother. ”Have you ever cooked before, Eve?” Ciradyl inquired as she bounced around the kitchen gathering various utensils and cookware she would need. After gathering the right tools, she took a sharp knife and began shearing the skin of the creature before carving filets out of its flesh.

"Affirmative." After handing over the partially-eaten game bird to Ciradyl, Eve simply followed her toward the ship's kitchen. There, as Ciradyl claimed, the cook was indeed willing to let her borrow his tools and utensils. He was even helping her with the ingredients, definitely a helpful fellow. In the meantime, noticing that certain things were already prepared, the black mage decided to sit down somewhere out of the way, observing in relative silence.

That was until the Bard struck a conversation with her specifically, "Yes, though I'm usually tasked with preparing the campfire or heating the kiln, but it looks like neither would be needed here." No doubt her pyromancy would've proven incredibly convenient for such endeavors, mundane utility was still utility.

”I will have to remember that when I prepare our meals on the road.”

Kazuo returned a moment later with all the requested herbs and garlic, then immediately joined Ciradyl in preparing the dish, though that was when his experienced cook's eyes noticed something... peculiar about the animal, "Pardon, M'lady, but has something be takin' a chunk out of this ‘ere bird? Where did ye get it if you don't mind me askin'?"

Ciradyl cutely tilted her head at his bizarre question. ”Oh, Eve here caught it and was having a light snack before she offered it to me.” There was no hint of a joke in her voice. Kazuo stared at the Faye with wide eyes before looking at the small form casually sitting close by “Ah, are ya feelin’ alright Miss?” He asked hesitantly while Ciradyl continued to work happily. Pans were placed on the stove and everything had been prepared. ”That should be everything. Now to wait for the stove to heat up.”
..........
.....
...

The two white-haired ladies of Team Kirin sat across from each other with the completed dish before them. A heavenly aroma drifted from the well-seasoned bird and its crispy accompaniments with a larger portion given to Eve. ”It has been some time since I cooked for myself so please give your honest feedback.” It was said that the way to a man’s stomach was through their stomach but she wondered if that applied to artificially created super weapons?

Even Eve had to admit that people don't usually cook partially-eaten game, one would think hunters and adventurers alike would prepare the creature first before taking a bite out of it, alas, what's done is done. Besides, now that the Pseudoloon could take a good look at what Ciradyl and Kazuo made, there was no indication that the meal before them was made from an... 'incomplete' animal. They had done an excellent job all things considered.

"I see..." The shorter white-haired girl's red eyes roamed all over the roasted dodo while taking in the sweet aroma wafting into her nose. She might not strictly require sustenance other than ether, but she still had enough Sollan parts to be able to enjoy food for the pleasure, and this one certainly looked pleasurable. Without further ado, Eve began using the provided utensils to calmly and quietly enjoy the slices of seasoned bird meat, a picture of demure elegance, a far cry from her barbaric display earlier.

Chew, chew, swallow, then a pause...

"It's delicious, Ciradyl." Eve quipped with such a straightforward tone that the Faye might not be used to, here sitting before her was an entity so utterly distinct from Esben, there were no innuendos to be found, nor the need to read between the lines. Even if words weren't enough somehow, then the small subtle smile on the horned girl's face and the fact she immediately resumed her meal would be proof enough.

The stark contrast from earlier had Ciradyl holding a fork in her hand and her plate untouched. Where had these manners originated from? How does one go from devouring like a beast to gracefully enjoying a prepared meal? These questions floated in her mind as she awaited a review on her cooking. ”Thank you. I am glad that my skills are still passable.” She had taken a moment to reply because the Pseudolon’s words were spoken so earnestly without a hint there might be a hidden motive. Ciradyl found herself unable to prevent some of her frustration bubbling to the surface of her expression.

Her irritation at a certain SEED agent passed as he began to eat herself and found Eve’s review to be accurate. Despite its mangled start, the meat had been cooked well enough that it was still tender. A few of the seasonings did feel a bit off but nothing that would ruin the overall taste. A dreamlike haze filtered over her eyes as she looked back at Eve. There was something about this that made her feel, just for this moment, Eve was her little sister. Her logical and emotional thoughts never did tend to agree.

”What are your plans after Valheim is defeated, Eve?” Ciradyl asked before taking a sip of wine.

Almost as if Eve was in some sort of mimicry mode, the shorter white-haired girl too took a sip of wine like the Faye, albeit she was holding the glass with both hands as if it was a cup, meanwhile, her mind was already pondering Ciradyl's question. This was indeed something she had been musing about ever since the encounter with Cid, and also a topic she had discussed with Esben once. While a few things remained similar, there were changes as well.

"I want to live, because that's what mother sacrificed herself for, I aim to fulfill her wish. However, if there are still more of my kind left, then it's my duty to euthanize them, because they are abominations who should not exist-..." All of the sudden, Eve paused, her body went rigid as her brows frowned deep as realizing the utter hypocrisy she had just expressed shook her to the core. "I-..."

A soft thud sounded off the table as she set her glass down, hearing this for the first time. The muscles in her fact twitched as memories of her own mother’s last moments fell on her. Abominations. That was indeed the best word to describe them yet the way in which Eve said it projected a sort of…self-loathing. They were her spiritual siblings in a sense but that didn’t feel like the reason. ”To begin, there is a stark difference between living and not being dead. They are the same on the surface but the minute details make all the difference.”

”I have to wonder if that would be honoring your mother’s wishes, to exterminate all the others like you. It would be a different matter if they were mindless weapons capable of nothing but mass destruction.” Warm, gentle eyes fell on the pseudolon where there had once been suspicion and ignorance. ”Are you such an exception that giving such mercy to the others is unthinkable? If so, I am grateful for the circumstances that brought you here.”

"..." The gray-haired girl's sudden inability to participate in the conversation was palpable now. She could've concurred that Ciradyl just made the distinction between surviving versus thriving, but... nothing, the words couldn't even form. All Eve could do at this very moment was staring wide-eyed at her own hands on the table, her abominable hands. It was as if time itself slowed down to a dead crawl as the world around her shriveled into nothingness. She was alone, lost, belonging to neither the material plane or the divine pantheon, and only her fellow mutants were in the same boat, so if she exterminated all of them, then wouldn't she be truly alone?

Then, perhaps as a testament to Ciradyl's mythical voice, the Faye's words managed to pierce through the miasma choking the Pseudolon's mind, at least enough to get her to stir slightly, showing that Eve heard what was being said. "..." Her lips pursed as she slowly set the utensils down. The Bard's musings brought feelings of discomfort to the shorter girl, as if she was exposing the cracks in what Eve thought to be an iron-clad belief.

She... couldn't disagree, as much as her heart wanted to, as much as her hatred for Valheim and the chimeras they made begged her to. If she had a mother, then who could say she was the only one? Maybe... there were other runaways like her or those who weren't as lucky as her and failed to escape or succeeded only to be recaptured? Yes, she'd love it if everyone else except her were mindless weapons capable of nothing but destruction, then she'd indeed be the exception, it'd make things so, so much simpler.

Alas, though she sincerely hoped she'd be proven wrong, she couldn't admit in good faith that she was definitely the exception that proves the rule. After all, it'd only take a single other sapient False Eidolon for the glaring incompatibility of her two wishes to surface.

"... ... ..." Eve fell silent for a good long while, her eyes fixated downward, then after what seemed like an eternity, she turned to the side, "I... I need to think..." Then promptly left the table, though abrupt, there was no hint of hostility in her tone.

The look in Eve’s eyes tugged on her heart strings yet she waited in silence to hear her reply. She nearly lifted a hand to stop her and bring her into an embrace but stopped just short. ”Very well. I hope we will talk again.” There was nothing else for Ciradyl to say on the matter. Ciradyl wanted nothing more than to bring Eve into her arms, stroke her hair, and tell her everything would work out in the end. Her parents had never graced her with a sibling and unlike Izayoi she had no child of her own. That made it difficult to know such an action would be appropriate. It had surprised her so see such emotion run underneath her muted expression. The Faye had falsely assumed the capacity to feel such concepts were beyond the scope of her creation. A small idea began to form in her mind as she watched Eve walk away. There had to be something she could do.