[table][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/VgbuqO2.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240522/49791553b35fa05b88864f9127dc2df9.png[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][sub]Location: Alchemy Chambers[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]Eris smiled faintly as Charlotte accepted the offer of tea—something to keep her hands busy and her mind grounded. She rose, shedding the blanket from her shoulders and letting it crumple onto the couch. Her bare feet padded softly across the walkway that separated the modest sitting room from the even smaller kitchen.

At Charlotte’s comment about the space reminding her of home, Eris glanced around. The stone tower felt nothing like home to her. It was small, cold, and too quiet, the solitude broken only by the Sages that shuffled in and out on the ground floor. But she stayed silent, rummaging through her tea cabinet, listening as Charlotte spoke.

Once she’d chosen a blend, Eris returned to the counter, drawing a metal kettle into her hands. As her fingers wrapped around the cold steel, she lifted her gaze toward the fireplace where Charlotte now sat. The recruit’s eyes were distant, voice softened. She spoke of her brother, of missed streets and laughter, of magic held over tavern tables. There was pride in her tone—but grief too. 

Eris felt the ache of it settle deep in her chest. 

The strong, capable guard who had shielded her without hesitation now folded in on herself, struggling under the crushing weight of loss and uncertainty.  

Drawing in a slow breath, Eris summoned what little magic remained in her reservoir. Doing things the hard way—[i]the slow way[/i]—had never suited her. Magic had always been her tool of choice, her crutch and her comfort. And so, she winced as water rose from nothing, filling the kettle from the bottom up. 

Her gaze stayed fixed on Charlotte, focused on a single point in the armor she wore, as if anchoring her focus there might dull the pain that seared up her forearm. Slowly, the kettle began to warm under her hands. She hovered just above the metal, channeling what energy she could, letting the warmth build into a boil. 

When Charlotte’s voice cracked under the weight of her sorrow, Eris’ focus snapped back up to Charlotte’s face.

The firelight danced across her features, her voice trembling as she spoke. The rawness in her tone, the weight of grief and exhaustion pressing down on her, was something Eris could empathize with all too well.

As Charlotte offered to help, Eris shook her head gently. Her eyes flicked to the kettle—now boiling. [color=B1E4FC]“It’s almost done,”[/color] she murmured, barely above a whisper. A throbbing sensation pulsing faintly through her arms.

Quietly, Eris mulled over Charlotte’s words as she poured them each a cup, the fire crackle filling the room. Missing home and family was natural. Grief was natural. But that had never made it any easier, she knew.

Returning to the hearth with the mugs, she gracefully sank down onto the floor beside Charlotte. Placing the two mugs on the wooden floor in front of her, Eris adjusted her nightgown as she settled into a side-sitting position, her right hand resting on the ground for balance.

[color=B1E4FC]“I didn’t know Sir Abel,”[/color] she began softly, her eyes staring thoughtfully into the flames. [color=B1E4FC]“But if what you did last night is any reflection of what he taught you… then I think he’d be proud.”[/color]

She didn’t know Charlotte, nor the mistakes she had made, but if last night was any indication of her trajectory, then Eris figured she was doing just fine. Standing up to a superior was never easy, but she believed Charlotte had made the right choice. To her, it had been invaluable. 

Eris stared down at the steam curling from the mugs, searching for words that might offer any sense of comfort. [color=B1E4FC]“Leaving home is always hard. No matter the reason.”[/color] she exhaled, trying to ignore the empty feeling of homesickness that tugged at her own heart. [color=B1E4FC]“But, I think… we can make a new home anywhere. Here, if we must.”[/color] she mused, uncertain if she was saying it for Charlotte or for herself.

[color=B1E4FC]“And we all make mistakes. That’s part of the journey. If you’re not making them… you’re not learning anything.”[/color] Her voice softened. [color=B1E4FC]“To be great, you have to be willing to make mistakes… and learn from them.”[/color] she added, speaking from experience.

After a pause, she flicked her fingers, and one of the mugs slid gently across the wooden floor before settling in front of Charlotte. A small smile curved on her lips as her eyes met the guards, mimicking the party trick Charlotte had mentioned her brother practicing. 

Taking in the sadness lingering in Charlotte’s eyes, she hesitated, then gently reached out, her fingertips brushing Charlotte’s arm—barely a touch, just enough to say “[i]I’m here.[/i]”

[color=B1E4FC]“You don’t have to apologize,”[/color] she offered a soft, sympathetic smile, tinged with familiar sadness. [color=B1E4FC]“Thank you for staying with me last night. Really.”[/color] 

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[sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Charlotte [@SpicyMeatball][/sub]