Galahad Caradoc
Eve "Grayscale"
It was nearing the dead of night, most of the Kirins and their hosts had already turned in for the night, yet a few souls still stirred. One of Ciradyl’s attendants offered Galahad a short- if curt bow as he entered a makeshift hospital-dorm. A few of Ciradyl’s men had suffered minor injuries during the raid, alongside one of their own. Eve, the eidolon girl still had yet to wake, and while in the moment Galahad had no sway over her decision making, he still felt responsible for her wellbeing.
The attendants had wrapped the girl in simple clothing, the dragoon’s adorned cloak folded over a nearby chair. Wrapping the cloak back over his shoulders, Galahad took a seat by the bed. With all that had been happening since the others joined, Galahad had yet to have taken any serious time with anyone, much less examine them closely. At a glance, one might’ve mistook her for a normal girl, save the gray hair and tail. Asleep, Eve looked rather unassuming, it was hard to imagine that this was more akin to a dragon a few short hours ago.
Just the memory caused Galahad’s hand to instinctively flex, reaching for a weapon that was not there. Every single one of his instincts were screaming at him. Eve was
dangerous. Moreso, she was destructive- more than any individual member of their party. A humanoid representation of the apex predators he was trained from the moment he could walk to kill.
”A monster.” he breathed.
"Correct."Eve's soft voice filled the room through the curt reply as her eyelids fluttered open, it seemed the horned and tailed chimera was less dormant than Galahad initially anticipated. The Dragoon coughed in surprise, before glancing away awkwardly. Having already experienced the toll of unleashing the Dragon King's signature power in the past, she already concluded that nothing fatal happened to her while comatose; it seemed she'd live to fight another day, good. Furthermore, the fact her comrade was here meant they were the ones who recovered her, another stroke of fortune. It'd be quite troublesome if she was still left on the battlefield, or worse, captured by Valheim and sent back to one of their accursed facilities.
Never again...Eve sat up, not paying any mind to her new apparel and instead focused on the Edrenian Dragoon seated by her bedside. Judging from the situation, it'd appear he was the one who rescued her, just as she requested the team to do.
"I'm something that should not exist, a very mockery of life itself." The girl spoke with such detached tranquility that it could only mean this was far from the first time she uttered those phrases.
"That's why they must pay, that's why I fight." For someone who superficially looked even smaller and younger than Miina, Eve certainly gave no impression of acting nowhere close to her apparent age, indeed, what lied before the exiled noble truly is an engineered living weapon, not a young girl,
"And I must thank you, Galahad, without you, my fight would've ended by now."”How long have you been awake?” Galahad asked, shifting somewhat uncomfortably. The detached air and manner of speaking was always at least somewhat unsettling, more so now that he was the only recipient of her words.
”That was unkind of me, instinct if you will.” Was it shame he felt? Embarrassed that she'd heard his words, yes, but also in that he understood so little of what Valheim had done to the poor girl.
”What about your family? Do you know where they are? Don't they worry for you? “ "Not long. Your voice was the first thing I heard after I regained consciousness." The faux eidolon answered matter-of-factly, then curled a small stoic smile, bereft of even a hint of malice,
"Perhaps, but you weren't mistaken, I am a monster. You're a monster slayer, we're not even supposed to be allies." After all, there was no offense to be taken in the face of cold hard facts. However, while Galahad's slip of tongue might not have any ramifications whatsoever to Eve, what he said next certainly did. At his inquiries, the white-haired girl's visage subtly curled into one of tranquil fury, her red eyes stuck open wide as her pupils constricted into slits, much like the dreaded dragons themselves, the very same expression that Izayoi witnessed at the ruined village.
"I was made, not born, in a sterile laboratory, Valheim engineered a weapon and treated me as such..." She answered, her tone calm, yet dripping with venom, like a deceptively still lake ready to swallow and drown all who dared to step foot in it,
"Except for one, Dr. Eve, my mother, the only shelter of warmth amidst the sea of callousness." Eve closed her eyes as a long drawn-out exhale left her,
"She freed me, but paid for it with her life." Her lids opened once more, returning eye contact with the dragoon,
"For that, I'll ensure the empire's destruction even if it kills me."”She sounds kind.” Galahad said quietly, his thoughts straying towards that of his own family, his mother, warm and gentle, his father harsh and cold.
”She reminds me of my mother– though I don't think I'll be welcomed back home with open arms any time soon, even if we complete our mission.” Slowly standing, Galahad stretched a bit, stifling a short cough.
”I suppose it's not quite the same, but I think quite a few of our party have been separated from their families for one reason or another.” ”Back in Edren, Valheim was always just another boogeyman, a story to tell children about so they'd behave. We knew they existed, but they always stayed in Osprey and never bothered the rest of the continent so we never gave them much heed– at least, not until the Blight came about.”“Some of us are here for the Blight, others are here to kill Valheim- to be honest, I could tolerate, but didn't really care for the latter, but the more I learn about them, the more it feels to me that Valheim is as much a blight to the people as the actual Blight itself. The petite black mage then listened to the Edreni's perspective regarding the mysterious empire from across the ocean,
"They're naught but power-hungry tyrants, using their power not to help the helpless, but oppress them instead." She had no love lost for the empire, they all could burn for all she cared,
"I firmly believe Valheim brought upon the Blight." She then stared at Galahad dead in his eyes,
"Proof? Look at me... look at me and imagine a whole legion of me's, that's what they're hoping to achieve. Bahamut isn't the only Eidolon whose image they've desecrated, the empire is cultivating more chimeric abominations even as we speak. There’s no reason to doubt that the universe itself is responding to their folly attempts at playing god."”That's a terrifying thought.” Galahad admitted candidly,
”Men and women without a choice but to destroy. It seems that is to be Valheim's legacy. I don't know what their ultimate goals are, but we'll stop them. I swear it.” ”For now, you should finish resting. This war waits for no one, and we'll need you in the coming days, no doubt.” Galahad said as he began to turn, pausing a few steps away from the door. Turning back, he slowly, gently placed his hand on the top of the Eidolon's head and gave her a light pat.
”I was wrong. For that I apologize. You're not a monster– Valheim is.”"If the consequence for failure is an apocalypse, then we must succeed or die trying." Eve's frowning expression subtly, yet suddenly shifted into one of mixed emotions as the Edreni Dragoon openly admitted to her being needed, being... wanted.
"..." The rational part of her mind might infer the unsurprising obviousness of his statement, especially after what she did to facilitate Hien's escape, but still, hearing it from the team’s leader shook her right in her artificial soul.
The horned mage pursed her lips, and unlike her usual bouts of taciturn silence, this time, she didn't know what to say instead of choosing not to speak.
"Nn..." The only "word" she could utter was a small whimper, one red eye closing as the dragonslayer's calloused palm caressed her bleached locks,
"I-..." ’...-already told you, you weren't mistaken’ was what her mind came up with, but her vocal cords never produced the words, instead she responded by her pale cheeks rosening as she slightly turned away, also might or might not be pouting.
"A-... acknowledged..."
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