#((HELPPPPPP KEY THIS IS SO FUNNY))

[aglaean]

“I see your charm did not protect you from falling early in battle,” Azama notes as he comes by to check on his totally-honest-to-gods-definitely-absolutely favourite student.

"... You did make one for yourself as well, did you not?"

What escapes next can only be described as a long-suffering sigh, though Azama masks it (perhaps poorly) with a look of incredibly deep concern™️.

“… Mayhap next year I shall have to bestow one of my own to you. 'Passing beautiful' though yours may have been," gods, he needs to hold it in, he can't break down so soon, "it means little if it doesn't work as intended, yes?"

Dread and horror have never been writ more strongly across the face of one so marvellous. ‘Hold! Do you suppose that, had I procured further tokens, I would not have been so rudely removed from the field?’ 

This was a disaster of the highest order! Once again, it seemed, L’Arachel’s unfailing generosity had proven too great, too perfect, for this cruel world. 

Of course, this was not to say that she was disappointed that her latent powers had been bestowed upon one so grateful. The defence of innocents was, undoubtedly, one of the many goals the Gods had predestined her for, after all.

But she rather wished she hadn’t been so blind to her own virtues, so negligent of the budding talent she evidently possessed! Had she made multiples of the charm, the very tide of battle could’ve been changed. 

Well, it was little worth lamenting what had been fated to be. She would simply have to be prepared for the next trial. 

At his offer, she smiles graciously. It would not do to enlighten him as to the fact that she was the one gifted with the talent in charm-making. His proferred charm, unimbued with whatever hidden powers of protection she possessed, would be taken with thankfulnesss!

L'Arachel resolve to arise early the next morning, dedicating herself to securing more candles, more threads, and eventually, more charms.