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"Spoken like a scholar, all right." She sighs, shaking her head. "I'm surprised Caim couldn't get you what you wanted to know. Between you and me, I always felt like he's seen more than he lets on, though you'd never guess it by the way he acts."

 

"If you're looking for connections to chaos magic, best follow whatever he told you. You're barking up the wrong tree talking to me. Matthias... I don't know where he learned chaos magic. I was a little girl during his heyday, and I don't know much about him myself. My sister still tails him, though; nowadays, she says he shows up randomly here and there, committing these brutal but isolated acts of violence. In general, he's persecuted just about everywhere now and isn't much of a threat, just a pain to catch. He's a bastard, for sure, but I don't know that you're going to find what you're looking for, going after him."

 

"I hope your search is fruitful. It can't be easy. I just don't see dark magic around much. The few I knew who used it in the war... they were either Dragon Knights, or... out of the ordinary. Not bad people, just never your average joe. "

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"Not dying."  Kris said bluntly "If you keep swinging your sword around like that someone is going to stab you before all you speed, power and style can help you." She said as she pulled out one of her blades and started to clean it thinking a bit before speaking again. "You don't need to change your style it would take way to long to do that. You just need to slow down a bit and not leave yourself so open..." she paused "Or at least learn to move better so you don't get keep getting knocked down all the time."

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"But I can't slow down! I have to become a great warrior as soon as possible!" The boy said with firm conviction,  "The longer I dawdled, the longer it'll take for me to prove everyone wrong and get myself a wyvern. I... I have to do it, no matter what it takes! The only way that's going to happen is if I take down strong foes as quickly as possible!" He paused for a moment slowly sulking a bit,  "Its just I... never expected there'd be such a big gap left to cross. Back in Goya, all I had to deal with were petty bandits who were easy to mop up... but comparing them to what we've been facing recently they were like ants. I thought I was at the peak of strength before, but now I'm wondering if I'm even good enough to be part of the Allied Guard. Seeing folks like, Rhian, Johanna, and you, I feel like I'm just being dead weight. Like I'm slowing everyone down. Like if I left I'd stop being a burden like I've always been. Recently, I wonder why they chose to send me when people as strong as my father were available." He looks back up at Kris,  "Say Kris, why did they choose you to join the allied guard? Do you know and why did you join in the first place?"

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Fallon smiled at the touch on Caim. He had gotten the same feeling, though wasn't surprised when he didn't get a response about it during their conversation. It seemed like the war had taken a heavy toll on him and he hadn't wanted to press too hard. The information she gave on Matthias fit in with what Caim had told him, but one part still bothered him. "And which would I be closer to, do you think? A knight or an oddity?" he said lightheartedly. Another question he wasn't sure of himself. " I did have one other question about the story. What happened to the other son, Klaus? Caim implied there was something important there but said it would be better to ask you."

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"An oddity, for sure. Though I've met weirder." That gets a laugh out of Marsilia, but her expression goes back to neutral, even something of resignation, when Klaus is brought up again. 

 

"Fallon, I'll be honest. It doesn't sound like you're a bad guy, but..." She shakes her head. "I don't disagree with what the Allied Guard's doing. I fought in that Liberation War myself. But you all were sent to subdue Kiba Windamier and now here's one of you coming around asking about his son. You said you were in Foen until recently, so maybe you don't know that anyone with Imperial ties is treated pretty badly nowadays. So, sorry, but I'm not going to say any more about that."

 

"There is one thing you should know, though. That mission you guys got sent on to chase down those prisoners? That was a red herring, and it's the reason why General Oppenheimer was able to attack the Knights. I knew because we all heard the General boast about it, obviously, but I also heard about it from my sister, who didn't like it. Now, I don't know how pervasive the plan was, so it'd be wise not to go pointing fingers just yet. But I thought you all should know there's some strings somewhere being pulled."

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A bit disappointed but understanding, Fallon nodded. "It was odd how quickly this happened after we subdued them. I wonder....?" he trailed off. Johanna wouldn't do this intentionally. But who was above her? Joshua? Thinking about him brought the voices back. It wouldn't be out of character....but allowing a force to attack the knights as a whole? It didn't make sense either. He didn't know enough about the Calissean military structure when it came to the guard to even begin thinking about that. 

 

"Thank you. I'm going to have to bring this to the commander. Though I'm not sure how well she'll take it." he made to leave, but turned back around before passing the doorframe "Before I do, though, what was your sister's name? I have a feeling we'll be meeting her one day if she knows about all this ."

 

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A look of surprise crosses Marsilia's face. "You don't know..." Then she seems to remember that Caim had had to tell Fallon about Matthias and the Windamiers. "You know, it's really hard to find someone so out of the loop... but in a way, I guess it's refreshing.

 

Henrietta Grandchampion's my little sister." She gives a small bittersweet, somewhat humorless huff. "I'm going to guess you don't know her either somehow." She shakes her head in an almost admiring disbelief. "I don't doubt you all will meet her sometime, with her being one of the Five Generals. I guess I'd thought you already had. If you do... I hope it's not against her. Either way, good luck."

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"Everything's changed since I was here last. There's probably more I don't know about this place than I'd like to admit. Better to ask now than when it bites me later." he said grimly. Because with his luck, it would. "As long as she's more stable than Millich, I think we'll get along fine. Thanks again." 

 

As he made his way back to where he had left the rest of the guard, his thoughts railed against his mind. Why would someone do this? Millich was crazy, but it was clear now that this was much more than one man with a superiority complex. And if he really was working alone, why hadn't they received any word from the rest of Caliss? When he got to the door, he rubbed his temples briefly to clear his mind, both of the irritating whispers and his own thoughts. Then he stepped inside.

 

"Joha-...Captain Johanna, I think you need to hear this. I've talked with some of the residents. Apparently Millich had boasted about drawing away the guard with those escaped prisoners from before, in order to make it easier to attack the knights' stronghold. From the way they said it I...don't think he was working alone. And there had to be some correspondence with whoever let them loose. Do you know what's happening out there? The silence from greater Caliss after a major event like this...it's not normal. And I have a bad feeling about it."

 

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Back in the throne room, Johanna looks fairly strained, rubbing her temples as she walks, possibly returning from some other conversation, so much so that Idriss, who has remained near the doorway, begins to growl deep in the back of his throat at anyone else coming to disturb her, following Fallon with watchful eyes. Johanna looks up at her name, though, and returns to a much more neutral expression when she sees him. 

 

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As he gives his report, though, a small furrow returns to her brow, and she sighs, nodding once. "I do, too. I have since we left the Warriors Village. Hearing that the prisoners were a definite set-up just confirms it." She reaches a hand out to rub idly at Idriss' crown of formidable head spines, trying to calm him as his wings rustle, suggesting the beginnings of a threat display at Fallon.

 

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"For a mission like this, I would have expected confirmation from the President, but our order only came from Captain Levenheit, and looks like it was only in the Dragon Knights' best interest. It is concerning." For such a new — and now tenuous — alliance, it was important that the Allied Guard be nonpartisan and represent a union, not favoring one authority's command over the other. "Hopefully our victory here has ended this fight. I'm going to speak with the Captain and find out what's going on."

 

She pauses, then lowers her voice a bit. "... How are you feeling, Fallon?"

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Fallon only glanced towards Idriss momentarily as he started growling. He knew the dragon wouldn't hurt him but...maybe he was right to be wary with all that's happened recently. "I...." he stuttered. What she asked was not at all what he expected. They were alone, weren't they? Why wasn't she angrier? "I...could be better....but I'm alive. And that's what matters." then he dropped his tone to almost a whisper "I don't know what all he's told you but...there's a lot we need to talk about. Not now though. The meeting is more important...and I'd rather it be somewhere private." he said, his heart beating wildly. He had put this off since he had first seen her again, always making excuses so he wouldn't have to face her. But the exchanges in the library, and now her concern, had changed something in him. He just still wasn't sure how she would take it.

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"Hmm..why they chose me?" Kris paused a moment thinking.  "I think they chose me cause I actually volunteered to become part of it. Either that or they needed someone who is really good at being in places their not suppose to be." She said with a smirk. "As to why I joined well, I thought I told you before. I joined because the Allied Guard is the last chance I will be able to be Kris." she said her face turned sullen. 

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"From what I remember, you just said you didn't want to give your last name and you had some secrets to keep..." His head perked up with a slight tilt of confusion,  "But I don't get it... 'your last chance to be Kris'? How can you not be yourself?" He spoke without thinking before realizing what he asked,  "O-oh wait, that probably has something to do with secret from before. Sorry, just forget I asked. I don't want to force you into saying anything you don't want to." Argos couldn't leave Kris sad like that though. He could feel... some sort of familiar feelings emanating from her. He didn't know if it was his place to say this or if he was looking too far into things but he has to say something! He can't stand the thought of his sour mood transferring to others!

 

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"B-but just know this, no matter what anyone else says or thinks 'The Invoker of Mayhem' likes Kris. Even if she maybe a bit... uh... pesky at times, I still think she's a great comrade to have. And if her loved ones, friends, family or even the world doesn't want Kris to be able to be Kris anymore know that I, 'THE INVOKER OF MAYHEM' will be right beside you! For I also have a battle against the world. They may do all in their power to bring the 'Invoker' down but I refuse to yield. I WILL get the wyvern I deserve and I WILL become a great warrior like my father! So, if Kris still just wants to be Kris and nothing else, then I say Kris should! Even after leaving the Allied Guard, the world be damned!" The boy seems to have invigorated himself with that whole speech.

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Johanna doesn't say anything, her expression remaining unchanging. A lot they needed to talk about?

 

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"You don't have to explain anything to me, Fallon," she replies. "I know what happened." There were things that were unavoidable; she, more than most, understood how it worked in the Stronghold. No use crying over a broken lance, as the saying went. 

 

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"But yes, let's talk later." So many years. She can't help but wonder... isn't it all long past, now?

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A few more hours pass, and the late morning begins to wane into afternoon. Before the sun has dipped too far, though, the silhouette of winged shadows appear on the horizon. A handful of Dragon Knights, it looks like, have responded to Johanna's missive in surprisingly quick fashion, and approach after dismounting. Though they don't look fresh from the battlefield, there's a bone-deep weariness in their eyes that tells of the struggle of these last weeks further up the mountains. Just hearing their words of gratitude, Johanna begins to wonder if things had been worse than the messenger had known when he'd found them in the Warriors Village.

 

It doesn't take too long to find the others of the Guard. The news of Gareth's disappearance is a heavy weight, and Johanna spares a moment's look at Ceridwen — the other rider looks distraught, but... there's not much to be done about it right this moment. Once she speaks to the Captain and gets the full story, maybe she'll be able to find a way to locate him. They could definitely use some heartening news.

 

Unfortunately, the Knights who've flown down to meet them don't have much of that to spare. The Guard's assault on the castle had done its job — once news of General Oppenheimer's defeat had reached the front lines, the Calissian troops had lost their nerve, allowing the Knights the opportunity to push them back just enough to force a retreat. It's unlikely, they said, that the Republic soldiers would be continuing their offensive; Milich had appeared to be the one behind it, as far as they knew, and there was little incentive to keep fighting when their base had been taken. Some of them would stay here to guard Scarleticia for now and maintain it, but the others would be heading back, and invited the Guard to go with them. The Captain had welcomed them all to recuperate at the Stronghold as thanks for their efforts.

 

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"It's hard to say what state the Stronghold is in right now," Johanna addresses the others as they gather. "When we arrive, I'll be leaving to speak with the Captain and get to the bottom of what happened here. There is one task I have for all of you in the meantime. Verden has decided to leave the Guard's service; he has other duties that need his attention. I'd like not to have to take on another mission without a healer. Try to locate someone qualified for the task there, if possible."

 

For those who haven't been on dragon back, it's a new experience, not at all like riding a horse or even a pegasus. As Johanna lifts herself into Idriss' saddle, she waits for everyone else to be situated behind the other Knights before lifting off. The ground and trees blur with every flap of the crimson dragon's powerful wings, and soon Scarleticia is shrinking, dwarfed by the surrounding woodland... until it's no more than a speck far beneath an expanse of green and brown, quickly replaced by the brown and white of the Antei Mountains as they stretch far into the horizon like a crooked spine jutting out from the earth.

 

-----

 

CHAPTER 3 : The Apostate

Solis Y3302, Autumnswax

Spoiler

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The Stronghold is a well-concealed fortress despite its massive size. Towering peaks obscured by thick cloud cover block it from sight, even in the air, and one has to take several precise turns through narrow valleys in order to glimpse it, nestled in the wall of a deep, yawning ravine. The surrounding cliff sides have been eroded and carved by centuries, millenia of life here, generations upon generations of Knights and their companions dying as they lived: defending the awesome expanse of these mountains, the only known home of dragons.

 

Temperatures drop in these higher altitudes, the air thinner here than in larger Caliss. As they alight on the long land bridge that connects the Knights' Tower — the heart of the Stronghold — with the surrounding small city, Johanna dismounts and breathes in deep. But this isn't time for relaxation or homecoming. Evidence of the brief but bloody altercation with Republic forces is everywhere; Caliss' army had never made it to the Stronghold proper, but signs of war are everywhere she turns her head. Knights, some young enough they must be apprentices, are carried around on stretchers: some into the Knights' Tower for medical care, and some... corpses, coldly still and in various conditions, out into the mountains for air burial, as was tradition here. More guards patrolled than normal, security still tight as the fighting had only stopped some hours before. There's motion everywhere, and the air is pervaded by a grim, somber atmosphere. Losses had been heavy, and the end of the fighting is more a relief than a victory.

 

The Allied Guard is led into the large Ground Sanctum of the Knights' Tower, a cavernous open foyer with numerous halls branching off into other parts of the Tower, two guards standing at the mouths of each. Now indoors, the hub of activity seems even louder as it echoes off the vaulted walls and ceiling. Johanna reaches up to loosen Idriss' tack, the large dragon shaking his head in a corkscrew, glad to be free of the pressure around his neck. Before she can say anything, however, a sudden commotion from one of the hallway entrances draws the attention of just about everyone in the Sanctum.

 

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"... Out. Send him out. Send him away."

 

"There is still some use. There are others who—"

 

A woman, tall, angular face framed with a shock of blond hair and a lance gripped tight in one hand, strides into the Sanctum from the hallway that those familiar with the Stronghold would know led to the infirmary. There's tension thick in her step, in her posture, in the furious lines of her face. Her tone is surprisingly even given that everything else about her looks like she is ready to snap the necks of anyone who comes close. She's wearing the distinguishable armor of a Large-Wing Commander, a prestigious and coveted title earned through achievement and not simply longevity as that of Mid-Wing Commander is and of which there are currently only three in the whole of the Dragon Knights. The plate is dented and streaked with blood both old and new, as is her lance.

 

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"Don't. Argue with me. Send him away. We have enough healers to handle the situation. We should have known better than to trust someone who's not our own. What of healing does he know? Were he half as good as ours, Sharon would still be alive."

 

The healer who had been jogging to keep pace says nothing under the sharp tone that's barely keeping composure. The woman purses her lips hard, then turns and continues on her way down another hall. None approach her, those near her as she passes moving to give her space, several bowing their heads. The healer silently grips his stave, then turns and goes back the way he had come.

 

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"... Commander Milia..." Johanna breathes once it seems safe to, once the noise in the Sanctum has begun to rise again to its previous levels. She sighs deeply. "So Sharon is..."

 

She looks up again to see two other figures coming down the hallway from the infirmary. One is a holding a stave and supporting the other one who moves slowly, almost dazedly. As they come into the light of the Sanctum, the first is unfamiliar — a young man with green hair — but the second figure is Futch, his own armor in a similar state to Milia's. He looks shell-shocked and unsteady, and one of the guards to that entryway gently stops them both. The exchange is inaudible with the distance, but he relieves the green-haired healer of his burden and slowly eases Futch down onto a nearby bench. The Rider doesn't fight it, merely dropping his head into his hands and going still.

 

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"... The situation here is still tense," Johanna says to the rest of them quietly. "Right, as stated before our departure, I'm leaving to speak with the Captain. Try to do as I asked in the meantime, but don't stray from this area. I don't anticipate it being too long of a conversation. I'll return shortly." With that, she nods to them all and makes her way to one of the branching halls at the far end, Idriss following close behind.

 

INTERLUDE START. Enter CLEMENT. ( NPCs open for interaction: Futch )

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The blood that stained his hands was too much to bear. What made him think he could do any good in this world to try and help when all he was good at was harming, no matter how careful his staff hands were?

 

It had started on a brief travel. He was never much to stay in one place, merely riding upon his horse in search of anything he could do to help. A sort of charity, community service to try and make up for the things he had allowed himself to do. He wished, oh hell did he wish that he could stop being the person he was, and yet any and all attempts were utterly futile. But he tried. He tried to keep making amends wherever he could.

 

And yet... he clearly blew it.

 

He saw that they were all understaffed. Healers running left and right, completely out of breath as they attempted to tend to everyone's wounds... he knew he could lend a helping hand, or at least he thought so. It was hard, going past all of that blood while his horse remained outside, unable to move around as freely as she'd have liked to. It took all of his effort, all of his will and a lot of clutching onto his staff that he didn't go completely nuts at the sight of all of that blood. He was doing fine, though. It seemed like his chance.

 

But then he failed. He knew he'd never be able to get the disgusted look of that commander's face out of his mind. He tried his damnedest. He pushed himself to his very limit, trying to heal her. He nearly collapsed from the exhaustion, he knew that poor girl was only inches away from death and that he could still do something if he just tried...

 

...and now she was dead. He tried to explain that he did all that he could, that it just was too late, and yet she didn't even have to respond for him to know that he was a complete and utter failure, a useless outsider who failed to accomplish anything.

 

What a fool he was, to think he could help. There was just one more person he had to attend to... and once the guard insisted he would take him, he knew that was his cue to flee. Flee and never return... he knew the lightest punishment he was going to get was a stern yelling at, and he didn't want to stick around for that, nor did he want to stick around for what might have been in store for him as a worse punishment.

 

All he wanted to do was save.

 

And yet, all he managed to do was harm.

 

He was a failure as a human. He was more akin to a monster.

 

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"..."

 

Shaking, knowing that he was on the verge of breaking, knowing that he had to get out of here before he caused even more damage than he already had, Clement clutched his staff and immediately headed for the exit, not even bothering to make eye contact with any of the nine people who had just entered.

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The tone was clearly somber. And what was more, it was also clear to Kerr that the man heading out of the building rapidly was the one that had been being yelled about. There was no other reason that a healer would be leaving the area otherwise. Not with the atmosphere here, there were clearly more people needing healed. Well, he couldn't do anything about that, but maybe he could do something... Reaching out, he snagged the green-haired man's arm as he quietly asked,

 

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"Hey there, healer. My name is Kerr. I'm not gonna ask about why you're leaving, I think that much is obvious. But you can't let their yelling hit you. Sometimes there's nothing healers can do, everyone knows that. But also people know that emotions don't let people think rationally either. So tell me, what's your name?"

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Clement was in such a stupor, with nothing else on his mind but getting out of there as soon as possible, that for a brief moment he didn't even realize he had been grabbed onto. He continued to keep moving, only stopping when he felt he couldn't go any further, and that he was addressed specifically by one of the group he had just been passing. Kerr, his name was...? Clement finally lifted his head from the ground, his eyes clearly full of guilt, anxiety, and perhaps even just a little trickle of insanity. He didn't seem to react much to his talking, avoiding eye contact slightly, but the last part... 'people know that emotions don't let people think rationally either', got just a hint of eye contact out of Clement. His eyes continued to drift downward, however, as he answered the question.

 

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"...Clement. Clement May."

 

Without another word, he gently tugged on his arm. Not forcefully, but in a manner of defeatism.

 

"...I thank you for your sympathies, but I'm not welcome here anymore, and that's for the best. Please excuse me."

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For some reason, Kerr found he couldn't let go of the other man's arm. He shook his head.

 

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"Right. Fair enough. How about this, how about you and I go talk outside? Away from everything else, getting some fresh air, that sort of thing. But I'm not just letting you leave here alone right now, ok?"

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Initially Argos was excited to head over to the Stronghold. He could show everyone all the cool spots around the area! He did not expect to find it in such condition upon his arrival. He grimmanced The thought of the Stronghold being pushed this far never once crossed his mind. It was  unfathomable to him. If this is what happened to the Stronghold, what if if Goya? What if his mother there? Could she have been injuried while he was off with the Allied Gaurd? After landing and getting a closer look around the area his thoughts then drifted to his father. 

 

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"No, there's no way pops would let himself get hurt... He's too strong for that..." The boy mumbled out loud to himself in worry which could be heard anyone nearby. He let out a sigh. He wouldn't be much help in the recruitment work, not here. Maybe this wasn't the best time for this question but it's better than standing around and watching this aftermath.

 

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He boy walked up to the armored archer and politely coughed to get her attention,  "Hey Rhian, could I ask you a few random questions real quick?"

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Rhian had been dead silent from the moment the Guard began mounting up to this moment. She'd gotten herself into and out of the saddle without assistance, and rather than gawking at the marvel of seeing the landscape from the air or hanging onto her riding companion for dear life as infrequent fliers were wont to do, she. . . hadn't done much at all. Rhian had mostly just looked straight ahead, looking a strange combination of even angrier than usual, pensive, and a few other things that were difficult to discern. The mixture hadn't grown any less strange or potent after they landed, either, though now she seemed to at least be looking at her surroundings. It took her several moments to even realize she'd been spoken to. 

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"Huh?" Her tone, somewhat shockingly, didn't sound angry, though it quickly darkened to its usual hue as she continued. "What do you want?"

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Naomi had been feeling down since the end of their last mission; she didn't interact with random animals or speak up much. Her magic didn't flare up much either, which was certainly for the better. The dragon ride had cheered her up a little, and as soon as it seems reasonable she broke away from the others. She carried a heavy and brooding energy to her. If she wore an eye patch and darker clothes, people might even mistake her for Fallon. Fallon! Of course, he could cheer her up. Naomi looked around until she spotted the old man, in a corner doing the usual Fallon routine. She approached him from his blind spot, quietly. When she was close enough to the old man, she tugged at his robes. 

 

"Hi." She said a little meekly at first but then she repeated it with more energy. "Hi! How are you? It... Feels like forever since I got to talk to you." She looked down a little. 

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For the process of getting to the Stronghold, Ceridwen had looked remarkably vulnerable --thanks to the mix of emotions roiling within her, far less angry than Rhian's but more distraught in turn-- and that state of being absolutely did not change when the group entered the Tower. It was hard to see the Stronghold in this state: wartorn, with many of those she knew probably wounded, dead, or dying. Sharon... even the apprentices, even Sharon... Ceridwen put a hand to her mouth for a moment, feeling nauseous, and took a while for that ugly swelling of queasy, mournful horror. Ceridwen had spoken to her in such a light, happy way before she'd left... and now she was gone. The red-haired Dragon Knight feared to think of who else might have died.

 

She ended up hugging a particular manual to her chest, the weathered book Gareth had used for his smith-work, which she hadn't let be more than a couple of feet away from her ever since she'd grabbed it. It was in her saddlebag while she flew, obsessively checked over to make sure the stress of flying hadn't finally shaken it apart when she landed, and clutched tightly whenever she was the ground. Now was no exception, and right now her grasp around it was tight, her gaze down, as she tried to withstand the monumental tide of loss currently deluged both the Stronghold and her own life. Ceridwen remained in silence.

 

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"..."
 

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Fallon stood with his back against one of the walls that made up the stronghold. He seemed lost in thought, but really he was focusing on making sure no one could pick him out. He didn't think anyone would realize who he was with how much he had changed. but this was absolutely the worst place he could have ended up, battle aftermath or not. Memories were welling up inside him and it was getting harder and harder to push them away.

 

He looked down in surprise when Naomi tugged at his sleeve. With anyone else, he would've been annoyed, but she was always good at sneaking up on him like that. "Yes, it has. I'm afraid I haven't been a very good friend recently, have I?" he said. In truth, he had done almost nothing but research over the last few weeks and had never so much as considered how she must have felt about it until the ride to the stronghold. The familiar feel of the wind on his face and the success of his confrontation with Johanna had served as reminders that sometimes there were more important things than his goals. 

 

Shaking his head briefly, he continued. "I'm sorry about that. How was your time at Scarleticia? Everyone seemed to go in different directions once the battle ended."

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"No you haven't, but it's okay I didn't reach out either." She leaned against the wall next to him looking up at the clouds. When he mentioned Scarleticia she sighed. 

 

"I went to search for Hati and the others but I think they left completely. I just wanted to talk to them, to understand them a little. You know how I've like... Never been good around humans. Except you and the old man I guess." Suddenly she felt homesick. Naomi sat down on the floor, knees up and arms hugged around them. 

 

"I hate the people at the allied guard they just..." Naomi paused what she was about to say. It wasn't true. She didn't really hate anyone. 

 

"They just don't understand me I don't know what I did..." Pause. Also not true, she knew she had done things that they didn't like. Even if she thought they were alright, clearly it made the others scared of her. 

 

"I think I messed up again, everyone is just going to hate me all over again..." Pause again. But why? Humans always ended up hurting her. They could never understand her. 

 

"Nevermind, I don't want to talk about Scarletcia." She pouted in silence for a while. 

 

"Don't you want to go back home Fallon? The Old Man would house us again. I hate it here. Even more than the Old Man's boring lectures" Naomi looked up at her friend, wishing that he'd say yes and they could leave right now. But somehow, she knew that wouldn't be his answer. 

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"I have a feeling we'll see Hati again. People with armor like that don't walk around without a purpose. And the fox..." he trailed off. He hadn't actually left with Hati, only in the aftermath of the battle. "He seemed to like you. Which means you got to know him at least a little bit, right? I'm sure he'll remember you." Sighing, he sat down next to her as the conversation got heavier.

 

"I don't think anyone here hates you. If that were the case, Johanna could've had you removed for being problematic." chewing on that for a second he thought about how to relate it to his own experiences. "And if they do, so what? You're you. You don't have to change yourself to fit what other people think you should be. I'm not exactly the perfect model of a scholar, am I?" he tapped a finger to his eyepatch as he said it.  " Sometimes people just....have trouble relating to what they don't understand. And the only way to fix that is to teach them. Just like with chaos magic."

 

"You know I can't go back, Naomi. I only went to Foen in the first place so I could come back here and...fulfill a purpose. As much as I enjoyed living there with you and the greybeard, I'd never be able to return without regretting it for the rest of my life. At least not until I finish my research and do what needs to be done." Letting silence stretch between them for a while, he added. "If... you truly despise it here, I could have someone arrange your discharge. You're only here because of me...and I don't want you to waste your life drowning in hate." He knew a little too well what that could do to a person.

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