#A water seraph who cares too much // Mikleo

[soulsxunbound]

Tag drop pt.1

[eachainn]

Sormik Week Day 5: White Poppy {Dreams}

“You cannot think of the wonderful secrets which it contains.” -The Hound of the Baskervilles, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

---

Selene rested her chin on her knees, watching her parents. Mikleo was sitting on the ground, spinning a sphere of water between his hands. Selene watched its path, momentarily distracted by it. She remembered Mikleo doing the same for her when she was younger, sending the sphere dancing above her head and sending rainbows everywhere. He had done the same with bubbles, but those she had chased. Selene smiled at the thought, watching as the sphere shuddered before some of the water sloughed off.

She lifted her chin off her leg, watching as Mikleo moved his hand underneath to catch the water. It pooled there for a moment before leaking out his fingers. She saw his shoulders slump before he flicked the water off of his fingers. The sphere was just as quickly banished, Mikleo leaning back on his hands with a groan.

Selene gave her father a protective look over, eyeing the growing bump of his stomach. She wasn’t surprised that Mikleo’s artes were starting to fail, but she couldn’t help but worry. She reached for her pocket, patting at the letter that had been brought up from Kyfle-on-the-Mountain. A wind seraph there had gotten it from Tejal, a note passing along how Ingrid was doing. It was heartening news, the news that Selene had been waiting for.

Ingrid was up and about, maybe not ready for full on Shepherd’s work, but healthy enough for a Squire. A Squire would be helpful considering that there were only two Shepherds. Selene was sure that Shepherd Laurent’s Squire would be the first ready, which meant that Lailah would take charge of him. Afterward, she didn’t know what would happen. Three Shepherds was still too small for the whole of Glenwood, but it was a start, and they had Sorey.

She looked back over at her other father, watching as he went through sword forms with careful exactness. She was struck by his skill with the sword, even if it was the dull Shepherd sword that he had brought back from the Mount Mabinogio ruins. Every once and a while, she could see him start to move faster like he was about to rush, but then the silver flames that wreathed the sword would start to flicker and go out, and then he would slow down again.

Selene watched him go through another form, shifting to let her legs stretch out straight in front of her. She didn’t know why she was surprised at Sorey’s skill. Mikleo had told her most of her life that her father had been a soldier, so it made sense that he knew how to used a sword. Sergei and Boris’ storied had had him fighting even before he became emperor, but in little skirmishes for the safety of villagers throughout Rolance. 

She had seen the Platinum Knights training before. One of her first Shepherds as a Sub Lord had been an ex-Platinum Knight, and she was familiar with them. What Sorey was doing looked similar to that, although some of it wasn’t nearly as formalized. Then again, that might be the difference between a Platinum Knight that were used to war and the Platinum Knights that were used to peace.

She was jerked from the thoughts as the flames flickered out, Sorey bending over to pant for breath. Mikleo was immediately on his feet, although the action was less fluid that normal. He walked over to Sorey, rubbing his hand over Sorey’s back. The two of them had a quiet conversation, lost in their own little world.

Selene tipped her head to the side, smiling to herself. It wasn’t like what she had imagined when she had thought of her fathers together. They were far more loving than she had thought. Then again, that could have been the seven hundred years. She hummed to herself before pushing herself off of the porch. She had only a few days left of her idle with her parents before her Shepherd came, and she was not about to spend them just watching.

She ambled over to them, watching as Sorey straightened up and pushed his bangs out of his face. His gaze flicked over to her before he broke out in a grin.

Mikleo turned then, her father giving her a tired smile before patting Sorey’s back once more. “Talk to him, bun. He’s not listening to me.”

Selene raised an eyebrow, before looking over at Sorey in time to get a sheepish grin. Selene raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do if he’s not listening to you.”

“Then take him out to the town. I know for a fact he hasn’t been there.”

“Because you insisting on dragging us both to organize your library.”

“Because that’s what you’re here for.” Mikleo chuckled and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “If not for that, then why else?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess.” She flashed him a smile before stepping around him to take the sword from Sorey’s hands. He let it go without an argument, which could only mean that he had really tired himself out. Selene passed the sword over to Mikleo, quick to reach out to grab Sorey’s hand. It wasn’t as strange as it has been before, even if it did make her feel a bit like a child. Then again, she could be forgiven, she hadn’t gotten to do this when she was a child.

She tugged on his hand, turning to start leading him away from the house. Sorey was slow to follow her, Selene watching as he stumbled a few steps before straightening up. Even then he seemed reluctant, turning back to look at Mikleo. “Beloved?”

“Go on.” Mikleo waved them both away with his free hand. “I’ll just put this back and finally get some things done around the house.”

Mikleo repeated the shooing gesture, that enough to get Sorey moving. Selene kept her hold on his hand, looking back over her shoulder to watch as Mikleo walked back to the house, noting the waddle that he was starting to develop. Selene bit her lip before turning around.

It was still a while until Mikleo’s due date, but she wanted to be around for it. Maybe Ingrid could be convinced to stay in the area when the time came. But that was something that would have to be decided later. She didn’t want to spent too much time focusing on the future when she had this to concentrate on.

She let go of Sorey’s hand, setting out in the direction of the town. She was aware of Sorey looking back over his shoulder every once and a while, Selene letting him do it for a moment before stepping close to him. “He’s probably just going to nap.”

“Nap?”

Selene nodded. “It helps. It takes energy, and sometimes sleeping and eating help.”

Sorey sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to push him. It was bad enough last time.”

Selene was quiet for a moment before, staring at the road that they were walking down before turning her attention back over to Sorey. “What did happen last time? Dad never told me.”

“I’m not surprised. It wasn’t the best time.”

Selene bit her lip, looking up at him hopefully. Sorey glanced at her before sighing. “We didn’t know what we were doing, so we were just running.”

It sounded like what Mikleo had told her, but there was a weight behind her words, and suddenly Selene didn’t want to know. 

Mikleo had been open enough about the time before she had been born, but her aunts had been the better two to direct her questions toward. Now that she was older she realized that they both had been carefully toeing the same line Mikleo had made. But she had always been able to wheedle a little more out of them. Natalie had been the one to point out the evils of the emperor and the empire, which Selene had been more than ready to accept. After all, that’s what everyone else had said. Melody had been the one to offer more, but nothing like this.

Then again, Selene doubted that her aunts knew Sorey at all. Not really.

Selene nodded slowly. “Dad told me as much. I think he left a lot of stuff out though, mostly because he forgot. It was never about you though.”

She glanced over at the side, watching as Sorey slowed down to look around. Selene slowed with him, looking around. She didn’t see anything but the open fields that surrounded their house and the road that they were on. There were a few uneven mounds where there would have been houses, but Selene didn’t remember much about them. They had been things that she had been warned away from because they weren’t safe, and then used to help build their house and the town.

She stepped around Sorey to look on the other side of him, spotting the fenced off area. It looked like Mikleo had been hard at work at the gravesite because the fence looked like it was newly painted and the area was mostly clear of weeds.

Selene turned as she heard Sorey step up beside her, watching as he studied the fence. She’d seen him in her father’s artifact room and the Mabinogio Ruin, and it was only in the former that she had seen the spark that Mikleo had talked about.

She smiled and grabbed his arm to tug him in the direction of the fence. “We didn’t come back this way from Ladylake, so you missed this.”

Sorey kept pace with her, Selene relieved that he looked focused instead of bored. Mikleo had told her so much about the boy he had known, the one who had loved history, but she hadn’t seen him. Selene had thought that there was a chance that they had nothing in common, but here was something.

Sorey moved away as he got closer, leaning against the fence to look at the plaque on the stone that was on the other end. Selene came to lean with him, staring at the sign.

In memory of the people in Camlann, killed in a brutal massacre and laid to rest here with great respect by a loyal friend and blessed by Shepherd Michael.

Reinterred and rededicated by Prime Lord Lailah and Great Lord Mikleo.

May they rest in peace and in the protection of the seraphim.

Mikleo said it was a copy of the original, because stone would last longer than wood. Selene hummed to herself, looking down at the flowers that were blooming. She leaned over to brush her fingers over the petal of one. She could feel a certain type of contentment, or something close enough that she associated with plants. Selene stroked the edge of the petal before looking back over at Sorey. “I remember Dad working on this. It took him all summer, and Lailah came up for the end. There was another sign, but we only had a bit of it. There was supposed to be something with the names, but we never found that.”

“It probably rotted away. It wasn’t here when we ran across it.” Sorey sighed, leaning heavily on the fence. “I’m glad someone took care of it. The last time there were bones sticking out of the ground.”

Selene nodded. “It was like that before. I remember finding a skull and running screaming back to Dad. He gave me the talk about humans and seraphim then. I think that’s what did it. He was always cleaning up the cairns at the top of the mountain, I think it just spurred him into action.” She tipped her head to the side. “That’s when he started taking me to see more things, when I wasn’t in school.”

“School?”

Selene gestured back towards the village. “When that was still just a few houses. It was a tiny one-room thing, but I loved it. I got to be with humans. They’re lives were so colorful, at least compared to what I was used to.”

Sorey chuckled. “I envy you.”

“But, you were human.”

“Yes, but I was a prince.” Sorey turned to look at her, his gaze sometimes flicking up towards the town. “I had tutors and servants. When I was older I had the Platinum Knights, but before that, I was left alone. I wasn’t important enough for too much effort.”

“That sounds sad, and lonely.”

“I don’t think I noticed.” Sorey rubbed the back of his neck. “I loved studying and my sword lessons. When I wasn’t doing that I was reading every book I could about anything to do with history or the ruins. Or Shepherds. I didn’t realize that there was anything to miss until later.”

Sorey shrugged, settling down further against the fence.

Selene watched him closely, letting them stand in silence for a moment before reaching out to grab onto his arm and pull. Sorey turned to look at her, Selene unable to keep herself from smiling. “Come on, I want to show you the town. Dad is going to be sleeping for a while. And if not, it’s about time that he did something with that artifact room instead of leaving it to us.”

Sorey stepped away from the fence, hesitant and first before speeding up. Selene was quick to loop her arm through his, holding him tight as they headed towards the town.

[ice-cream-beat]

For the drabble ask, how about something like 1 and 27 for a brotherly Sorey and Mikleo? (Only if you want to)

OF COURSE I WANT TO! ((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)) Thanks for the request, anon!

Chocolate + Happy Birthday:

/ / /

“Since when can you bake?”

That would probably come off insulting to most people, but Mikleo is too used to Sorey’s tactless way with words to take much offense. And to be fair, his surprise is warranted.

“Since a while ago,” Mikleo answers vaguely, leaving his friend to wonder whether he’s speaking in years or centuries. “No one’s forcing you to eat it, you know—”

“No, no,” Sorey says quickly, apologetically. “It’s just—I’ve been back this long and you’re just now dropping this news on me?”

Mikleo cocks a thin eyebrow as he turns to find that predictable, insufferably teasing grin on Sorey’s face. “Water seraph,” Mikleo reminds him. “How often have we had access to a proper oven in the last year?”

“I know, I know,” Sorey laughs. “I appreciate it. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“That implies there’s ever a time when you don’t.” With a wry half-smile on his face, Mikleo pulls out the opposite chair at the small table and sits. That’s the good thing about traveling odd hours and, in his case, sleeping very little: access to the inn’s kitchen after-hours. He can’t always pass for human among those who can see him—many more these days than he once thought possible—and even though this region is known for its hospitality towards seraphim, he’d rather work in secret and avoid any distractions, anyway.

Across from him, Sorey pokes curiously at the dish with his fork. It’s nothing grand or fancy, just a simple soufflé—more like a small cake, really—that’s one of the few non-cold dessert recipes Mikleo has committed to memory, something he worked on while preparing their late dinner earlier.

It’s long since cooled in its small baking dish, but Sorey exercises caution in such a way that he seems to think it might be on fire. After putting a forkful in his mouth, he pauses, and then his face lights up in surprise.

“It’s good!” he exclaims. He notices Mikleo’s expression and hastily amends, “I mean—it’s better than I expected!”

Mikleo sighs inwardly and barely resists rolling his eyes. Tactless indeed.

Sorey helps himself to another bite. “Seriously, it’s great! I wasn’t expecting chocolate.”

Mikleo eyes the black pastry and its dark brown crust in mild amusement. “The color didn’t give that away?”

“Honestly, I thought you might’ve just burned it that badly.”

“Shut up.”

But they both laugh, and Sorey pushes the dessert to the middle of the table and offers the fork over. “The cook should have some, too, for all his hard work.”

They take turns eating in comfortable silence. It’s now closer to early morning than late night, but the sun and the small town’s waking are still a couple hours away. It’s not much different from the nights they’re used to spending on the road or in caves as they travel together, but the warm presence of the inn around them is a nice change of scenery. It’s a quiet reminder of the life Mikleo left behind many, many years ago.

“A year, huh,” Sorey muses suddenly. “Has it really been that long already?”

“It has.” If he thinks it went by quickly, that says nothing of Mikleo. A year seems so small and fleeting now.

Mikleo sets the fork down beside the empty dish and adjusts in his seat, leaning back comfortably as he studies the dark window over Sorey’s shoulder. “A year exactly, actually,” he says. “Today. Or once the sun rises, I guess.”

Sorey blinks. “Seriously?”

“Mm,” Mikleo hums dismissively. He doesn’t want to admit how he knows—that he fell into counting days, months, and years after Sorey went away, an unintentional habit that eventually turned into an unconscious one. The long number in Mikleo’s head reset once he met Sorey again, and try as he might to shake the tendency, his internal clock is apparently too well-tuned. As of midnight just a few hours ago, it’s been three hundred and sixty-five days since Sorey reappeared.

“Huh,” Sorey says softly. He looks down at the tabletop, his expression difficult even for Mikleo to read. After a long moment, he gives a warm chuckle. “I guess this is kind of what a birthday’s like, huh?”

“What?”

“Well, it’s the anniversary of the day I dropped back into the world. And there’s even cake!”

Mikleo stares at him, but then can’t help sharing in his smile. Birthdays aren’t normally tracked by seraphim, let alone celebrated, and it was the same way for the two of them growing up in Elysia.

Considering what they know of their pasts, he realizes, it could be said that he and Sorey share the same birthday.

“It does seem pretty fitting,” Mikleo agrees. He crosses his arms loosely. “I wouldn’t say it’s a stretch to compare you to a one-year-old.”

Sorey makes a face. “That just means I’m in the prime of my life compared to an old man like you.”

That earns a hissed laugh somewhere between amused and annoyed. “I’ll take old and wise over young and hopeless,” Mikleo counters.

“Hey, how many centuries did it take you to bake this, again?”

“When was the last time you cooked anything edible, again?”

They manage to regard one another for about two seconds before breaking into quiet laughter again.

“Nah, but seriously,” Sorey insists after their mirth subsides, “thanks for this, Mikleo.”

“It’s no big deal. I enjoy the challenge.” Even now, after all his practice and familiarity with the processes, just the idea of baking or cooking strains against his nature a little bit. No matter how talented he gets, he’s certain he’ll never be at ease with hot foods like he is with cold ones. The former will always require a little extra care and attention, and even then he’ll probably still mess up now and again－a concept that doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it once did.

Edna would say I’ve spent too much time around humans.

Looking back at how much he’s changed over the centuries, perhaps she would be right, in a way.

And yet, sitting opposite of this human and his easy smile for the three hundred and sixty-fifth day in a row, Mikleo knows that there’s no such thing as too much.

Short of the impossible forever, no amount of time will ever be enough.

[tsorin]

Connections: Getting Invested in your Tales of Plot

I was trying to think about why the Zestiria plot fell so flat despite all the cool characters, especially compared to things like Berseria and Abyss, and I think one huge issue is that the Zestiria cast don’t seem to have any investment in the actual world.

What do I mean by that?

(This will be comparing the Zestiria story to Berseria, because of the similar world building and themes, and Abyss, because it’s my favorite and I Said So.)

There are what I would consider to be three big areas where Zestiria lacks that the other games I’m using don’t: investment in the world, connection to people, and connection to the antagonist. Let’s go one by one.

ALSO LIKE SPOILERS WHOA

Investment in the World

Sorey and Co. don’t really have any investment in the world of Glenwood. Sorey was born and raised in Izuchi/Elysia. That’s his home and those are his family. We get a little of them in the beginning but we don’t go back for a WHILE. The Seraphs are disconnected by nature (hard to get attached to people who 1. can’t see you and 2. could actually kill you). Rose has the Sparrowfeathers but again, not present much. The only exception is Alisha and she goes off to Get Shit Done pretty early on. Sorey doesn’t care about the Hyland vs. Rolance war and goes between them pretty freely.

Berseria does a little better here. Eleanor has the most invested in the world itself as an exorcist, but the others are kind of wrapped up in their own problems. But I’d say Aifread’s pirates are better integrated than the Sparrowfeathers.

Abyss does far and above the best here. Natalia and Luke are both royalty of Kimlasca. Jade’s here for Malkuth cough Peony cough and Ion and Anise represent Daath and the Order of Lorelai. They’ve all got stakes in the coming war and personal reasons to want to stop it. It makes the war a lot more impactful than the one in Zestiria.

Connection to the People

Here, by ‘people’, I’m talking about NPCs. In Zestiria you’ve got Sergei in Roland, Alisha in Hyland, and...? Arguments could be made for the chief of Marlind and Mayvin. Maybe. But that’s like it? There aren’t many towns in Zestiria and so fewer people in general so maybe that’s the cause of the issue but there’s almost no NPCs to care about.

Berseria starts off strong with Aball and Niko. Later on you have characters like Dyle and Kurogane and the Therions. (Leaving out antagonists for now because they’re the next point.) Again, a lot of the characters are wrapped up in their own issues and their biggest relationships are with the villains.

Abyss has SO MANY in this category. Foremost is Ion himself of course, but you also have people like Peony, Nephry, the McGoverns, Rose, King Ingobert, Duke and Madam Fabre, Friggs, Cicelle, Tritheim, the Dark Wings... The list goes on and on. And those are just the ones off the top of my head. All of them have their own little stories and show up more than once. Like, just mention Cecille and Friggs and people will get upset. These characters all have ties to at least one of our playable characters so our characters feel like a PART of Auldrant.

Connection to the Antagonists

Zestiria is a poster child here for too little, too late. Why does Sorey clash with Heldalf, especially at the beginning? Because Heldalf’s the Lord of Calamity and Sorey’s the Shepherd and Lailah says you gotta. Like, that’s it until basically the veeeeeeery end when Heldalf kidnaps Gramps and then there’s the Sorey and Mikleo backstory reveal. (Which honestly lacked impact I gotta say.) That’s at the last 5 hours of the game. That’s ridiculous. Lailah, Zaveid, Rose, Edna, and Alisha lack any connection to Heldalf period. Dezel at least has beef with Simone but that stays hidden until, again, basically right before he sacrifices himself.

Berseria blows this one out of the water. Like DAMN. Velvet’s hatred of Artorius drives the plot from the beginning. She says she’s gonna get him AND THEN SHE DOES GO GIRL. Even the Empyrean Innominant has an impact given that he’s basically Velvet’s brother. This whole conflict is very much personal. Then Eizen and Magilou have beefs with Melchior, Rokurou has Shigure, Eleanor’s kind of cheesed at everyone, and Phi gets tangled up in Velvet’s Everything. AND GOD THAT ENDING

Abyss also does well here in that I want TO PUNT VAN OFF MT. EVEREST. So Luke’s relationships with Van and Asch are the strongest here. His sense of self is deeply tied to both of them and he spends most of the game figuring out what that means. Tear has conflicts with Van (her brother) and Lagretta (her teacher). We have Guy vs. Van, Dist vs. Jade, Natalia vs. Largo, Anise and Ion vs. Arietta and Sync, literally everyone against Mohs because Mohs is SLIME.

And these connections lead to some of the best scenes in any video game I’ve ever played. Both this scene from Berseria and this scene from Abyss always make me cry. Also A+ music choices here go team

“I.. I loved them all... I loved Laphi, and Celica... Arthur... Everyone. To have it all stolen from me... Why them? Why not me? It hurts so much!” - Velvet, Seriously, tears for like everything in this scene.

“Now is all I have too. I don’t even have a past to lose! But I’ve decided here I'm me. It doesn’t matter what you think. Here I am. If that’s the source of the strength you’re talking about then I won’t lose!” - LUKE BABY PLS

(Again these are off the top of my head. I literally can’t remember any super emotional line of dialogue from Zestiria.)

I like Zestiria. I like the characters and their relationships. But because of the reasons above, I can’t get invested in the world they live in and that is a big shame.

[artpharos]

Truce

Hi guys Tales of the Rays gave me the perfect opportunity to write about Velvet and Sorey becoming friends and now you have to deal with my super self-indulgent writing. 

Velvet always looked incredibly lonely. 

Sorey only managed to catch glimpses of her on the Heimdallr- a flash of black turning the corner, a movement evading his peripheal vision as he entered the room. She always avoided him unless necessary, and often stayed in the quieter areas of the ship where he rarely frequented. But every time their eyes met, her amber eyes watched him like a hawk, her lips pursed in a thin line.

So he didn't expect to see her up on the deck late one night. He had been looking for Mikleo- the water seraph had disappeared somewhere with the Celestial Record- and he was searching the entire ship. Quite guilelessly, he had traipsed into the room, only to be stopped when a wave of malevolence overwhelmed his senses. He saw a dark, flowing cloak, and hair as black as a raven's wing. His first instinct was to turn back- but something stopped him. 

Instead of the guarded hawk who watched him so fiercely, there was a soft smile on Velvet's face. She was waving to someone- and off in the distance, out on the beach below, he could make out the small form of Laphicet. The young seraph was bidding her farewell, before he set off on yet another of his excursions.

And it was then- with a soft smile, and a sad pain in her eyes- that Sorey glimpsed something he shouldn't have; when the Lord of Calamity seemed far more human than he expected. 

Velvet either hadn't noticed him, or didn't care to acknowledge him. But instead of leaving, Sorey's feet started moving on their own. Before he knew it, he was standing side by side with the woman who, in his own world, would have been his sworn enemy.

Velvet's eyes flicked over to him. Her brow furrowed, and her lips were pursed. But she said nothing.

"You could have gone with him," Sorey ventured. Despite the heavy weight of the malevolence, he smiled, hoping to set his companion at ease. When Velvet's eyes narrowed further, he added, "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

He expected the Lord of Calamity to snap at him, and that would be the end of their conversation. But instead, Velvet shook her head and let out an exhausted sigh. 

"He can take care of himself." 

Sorey frowned. Catching his expression, Velvet smirked. "Don't let his appearance fool you," she said, a small measure of pride in her voice. "Laphicet is stronger than he looks."

"True," Sorey acquiesced. "But even so- you want to go with him, don't you?"

Velvet paused. Her hawk-like gaze faltered, but it was quickly replaced by a bitter smile. Turning out towards the horizon, she murmured, "It's not my place. You, of all people, should know that."

Sorey let out a breath. "Because you're the Lord of Calamity?"

"Surprised, Shepherd?" Velvet's voice was calm, cold. Thick malevolence rolled off her, a barrier warding him away. "I thought you Shepherds prided yourselves on following the logical path, no matter the cost."

Sorey swallowed. "Not if it means causing people pain."

Velvet arched an eyebrow at him. 

"I thought the Lord of Calamity was incapable of caring for others, too," Sorey replied. "That all they could see was their own hate."

Velvet shrugged. "Who's to say that's not what I do?"

Despite her tone, despite her words- Sorey chuckled. 

"Did I say something funny?"

"I don't know." Sorey grinned at the face of Velvet's displeasure. "Even though I don't know anything about you- I know that's not you. Or at least, not the whole you."

"You're just making assumptions." Velvet waved a hand dismissively.

"Maybe." Sorey leaned against the railing, peering out at the world Velvet was watching. They had docked at an isolated inlet, and the view outside the Heimdallr was that of a wide ocean, basked in the moonlight.

It was a strange moment, Sorey thought. Being exoflected into a world where a Shepherd wasn't needed, where malevolence didn't ruin the world. Being able to talk to Velvet, a Lord of Calamity who seemed to yearn for something more than the destruction of the world. 

"I never imagined I'd be here," he admitted quietly. "But you're nothing like what I had assumed you'd be."

For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of surprise in Velvet's amber eyes. But then it quickly disappeared, replaced with her usual, stern stare. With a sigh, she muttered, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This." She gestured. "Talking to me. You don't have to pretend that the malevolence isn't affecting you."

It was true- the malevolence was thickest here, close to Velvet. But instead of the choking aura he had once been subjected to, Velvet's anger, Velvet's hatred, wasn't directed at him. In fact, to him, it just felt lonely- sad. It didn't hurt him. 

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Are you worried about me? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Velvet huffed, rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't do if you keeled over in battle," she muttered.  

He hesitated. He wasn't sure how malevolence worked in Tir na Nog. It pricked at him, like small needles on the surface of his skin. Uncomfortable. But Velvet's malevolence, roiling though it may have been, hadn't hurt him. 

Tentatively, he rested a hand on her shoulder- caught the look of utter shock that passed through her face. The malevolence rolled over him- past him, leaving him unaffected. 

He smiled. "Thank you, Velvet." 

He caught the softening of her eyes, the gentle turn of her half-smile. How long had it been, Sorey wondered, that Velvet had been able to touch anyone she cared about? 

And then she seized his hand and twisted, spasms of pain shooting through his arm. He yelped, and suddenly with a flip, he was on the ground. Above, Velvet watched him- but instead of her predatory, hawk-like gaze, she smirked in smug satisfaction.

"I thought you said it wouldn't do if I was hurt in battle!" he protested.

She rolled her eyes, even as she held his hand in a firm grip. "This isn't a battle, and you aren't hurt," she replied, tilting her head. "Not badly, anyway. Didn't anyone teach you not to go around laying hands on strange women?"

Sorey winced. "The seraphim weren't really big on human etiquette, and we aren't exactly strangers to one another."

Velvet stared at him incredulously, the gears working in her mind. Finally, with a sigh, she shook her head. "Well, now you know." Releasing her hold, she held out her other hand to him. 

Sorey took it readily, and with a strength that belied her appearance, Velvet pulled him up. 

"You're a strange man," she remarked at last. 

"You're not exactly normal yourself," Sorey bit back, massaging his hand. 

Velvet paused. And then, to his surprise, she laughed. It wasn't a full-throated, evil laughter. It was a simple laugh- one that sounded almost... human.

He let her laugh. She braced against the railing, a hand pressed against her lips, the moonlight glancing off her sharp features.

Sorey smiled. 

"You're not just the Lord of Calamity to me," he told her.

She watched him- her eyes not quite so guarded. 

"I don't know much about getting along with humans." Sorey smiled sheepishly. "But from what I've seen- you're just like everyone else on this ship. You're not evil. And I'd like it- if you'd talk to me, sometimes."

"That's it?" Velvet smirked. "No conditions. You just want to talk?"

Sorey grinned. "Well if you don't mind showing me how you did that throw-"

"You're not afraid I'd kill you?"

He met her eyes. "Are you?"

Velvet smirked. With a final sigh, she shook her head. "Go to bed, Sorey. It's late."

Sorey grinned- it sounded so out of place. Warm, maternal. It sounded nice. 

"Goodnight, Velvet." 

She didn't reply, but as he turned away from the deck, he caught her words- quiet, almost lost in the midst of the ocean waves. 

"You're nothing like what I expected from a Shepherd either."

And Sorey smiled.

[cdrart]

Art by me Writing by @bloomingednae

Artist note: The inspiration and reference for future Lastonbell was La Royeaux from Dragon Age Inquisition as well as random shots of a town I saw from the Witcher 3!

Day 6: Lastonbell (Promises/Acceptance) Late

“Just a trick of light, To bring me back around again, Those wild eyes, A psychedelic silhouette.”                   ~ “Salvation” - Gabrielle Aplin

Dong, dong...

The low chime of the bell echoed throughout the pillars of its structure and vibrated all the way down to its foundation. Each chime signaled the current time of day, and it kept ringing up until it reached nine chimes, until it finally grew silent.

To Mikleo, the chimes were sounds he recognized as fear, uncertainty, and a sense of rushed feelings he couldn’t explain. It often brought about a tangled mix of distraught feelings with tiny remnants of happier moments that had slipped in on its own, most of the happy moments depicted from the years of Rose’s life and travels, and clashed with dark moments of anxiety and cloudiness from the memory of Sorey’s departure. In general, the bell’s chimes were a bit of nostalgia and unwanted feelings of indescribable sadness and more often than not, he preferred to not hear it.

On the other hand, his companion to his right clearly showed different feelings upon hearing the chimes. Sorey’s smile increased twofold when he heard the sound and he began to give a small laugh, showing off a childish nature of him that most knew too well. When the last chime rang, Sorey closed his eyes and he sighed once it had quieted down.

Mikleo could never understand how they were so opposite in so many ways, but often found themselves experiencing certain moments within each others’ company. Once it was completely quiet, Mikleo cleared his throat.

“I see that you still enjoy those bell chimes, huh?”

Sorey’s eyes opened and he glanced at Mikleo, another smile forming on his face. “Yeah! I don’t know what it is, but the vibration we can feel while sitting up here makes me so comfortable, you know? Like, I feel like it’s engulfing me, but I also really like it?”

Mikleo chuckled at Sorey’s vague description. “I suppose so. I could only fathom a guess that it could be an attribute to your seraphic element.”

Sorey furrowed his eyebrows, in thought. “I mean...I guess so? Thunder and lightning do give off a deep sound that causes vibrations in surrounding areas where it strikes.”

Mikleo nodded. “And often times, seraphs feel more in tune to their natural element. Have you noticed how much happier Lailah got when we were crossing warm places like the Zaphgott Moor? Or how much louder Zaveid became and how Dezel actually smiled when we were scaling cliffs? Or how much moodier Edna became when there was rain or water?”

Sorey stifled a laugh when he noticed how Mikleo singled out Edna to be in a bad mood versus a good one. Nodding, he leaned against one of the pillars next to him and he smiled.

“Yep, sure do. You wouldn’t believe how much I had to deal with Rose’s remarks and complaints of the seraphim being too happy when she was feeling miserable from the environmental conditions. She especially hated it when it rained and nearly wanted to punch you multiple times when you would take your time out in the storms.”

“Hey! If everyone else had their time to shine, I think it was only fair I could enjoy the weather too,” Mikleo crossed his arms and stuck his head high in the air, a common characteristic Sorey had seen him do multiple times. Sorey just shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I know! She totally understood, but she was just speaking her mind. You know how she is...Rose is Rose.”

Mikleo laughed at that remark. “And you’re just you, enjoying the vibrations of the bell tower.”

Sorey sheepishly smiled, but didn’t say another word after that. A small silence fell between the two of them as they overlooked the city below them, much more bright than what Sorey had previously remembered. The city was larger in size as well, as if it could get any larger, and there were talks of the possibility of raising another bell tower, though that seemed to be in the beginning stages of the process. Sorey suddenly felt a feeling of familiarity, almost deja vu, as he stared below. Curiously, he glanced at Mikleo, only to find him staring off into space, violet eyes clouded with almost nothingness. The sight concerned Sorey and he quickly (maybe too quickly, he realized when Mikleo jolted) placed his hand on Mikleo’s arm.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Mikleo nodded, a little too immediately Sorey noticed, and he sighed. “I’m fine. Just thinking...of some stuff from centuries ago.”

Sorey looked away again and he fidgeted with his hands. A silence befell the both of them again, a mutual understanding realized without having one or the other say a word. It was Mikleo, however, who decided to pursue the subject as he leaned forward and propped his arms on his knees, still staring at the city below them.

“What happened that day essentially happened, I know. You promised me, Glenwood is blessed, and you came back. Everything is fine, generally speaking. But when I think about what really happened, how I really felt...” he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, “it still sometimes feels bittersweet.”

“Unlike you,” he continued, “the sound of the bell rings memories from long ago and echoes emotions that I try not to remember again. It sounds silly, really, for me to be contemplating all this when you’re physically right here next to me, but I’m always reminded of that night and how sudden it all felt.”

“But,” Mikleo sat up, pushing off from his legs, “when I remember how determined your expression was and how solid you were in your Answer, I can’t help but feel relieved, proud, and  excited. For someone like you who grew up in a purely Seraph home to save everyone in the world from malevolence to just sleep for an undetermined time, for people you barely knew of...when I think of that, I sometimes can’t wrap my head around how I’ve seen you grow and how I, of all people, could be intimate with you; and yet, we are determined on our own goals to seek out peace for the sake of everyone, and for ourselves. Despite our challenges, we find ourselves here today and the things of the past somehow matter all the more, including the painful times.”

Mikleo glanced at Sorey, who was all but listening to him as he stared at the city below. When he felt Mikleo’s glance, he turned to him, and he grinned again. Mikleo suddenly felt self-conscious and he looked away, stuttering.

“S-sorry, I just...went off on a tangent there, and I just...”

Mikleo trailed off, to which Sorey took the chance to continue the thought. Looking up to the stars, he spoke softly.

“...Remember what I said about the stars? And how you said each one sparkles in its own way because emotions are limitless?” Sorey glanced back at Mikleo, who was also staring at the stars. He saw Mikleo laugh a bit, remembering the memory and also the irony of it all at the moment. Sorey looked back up and he laughed too.

“You didn’t tangent. You just have as many emotions as any other being would have. And that’s perfectly fine. To be honest, you’re probably the most deep thinker I’ve met ever which can be a little scary, but-”

Sorey’s thoughts were interrupted by a small nudge and when he looked to his left, he noticed Mikleo giving a small pout and Sorey laughed sheepishly at the expression.

“Joking, joking! Because really, that’s the part of you that really shines for me.” Sorey looked to the city lights once more and took a breath, taking in the scents of the cool night air. He exhaled slowly, feeling content with the surroundings.

“...You’ve lived much longer me. You’ve seen things farther than what I’ve seen, and you’ve carried on the things I left behind when I went to sleep. It’s only natural that you have these emotions, thoughts, and treasured memories.”

“And true,” Sorey continued, “that just because you lived longer, doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to have all that. I do. I’ve seen it in the cities we’ve been to; I’ve felt it in the air whenever we’ve rested in moments like this; and I see it even right now when I look in your eyes.”

Sorey turned to Mikleo, and all at once, he felt an overbearing wave of compassion and love for him surge in him, and he smiled.

“It’s because I see it in you everyday is the reason why I continue to travel and carry on what I left behind.”

He adjusted himself so that he moved closer to Mikleo and turned to face him completely. “I promise to give this world what it truly deserves and that every step of the way, I will continue to watch you as you go through this life. I promise to love and cherish everything as much as you have as you continued to wait for me, so that everything you have done reflects who you truly are; someone who is caring, compassionate, and loving to everything and everyone whom you meet.”

Sorey realized at this point that he had gotten closer to Mikleo; how that space between them started to close was beyond him, but he continued on, disregarding the fact. What he didn’t notice, was, the sky slowly darkening over Lastonbell and the decrease in people roaming the streets below. He may have felt a drop or two fall from the sky, but he continued to keep his eyes locked on Mikleo. He laughed a bit before continuing, a sheepish smile on his face.

“You’re probably so over hearing this over and over again from me, but, I love you. I love you, Mikleo, as much as the stars sparkle in the sky and ten times as many people there are in this world. I-”

His words cut off from a sudden, low rumbling from the clouds above and it was then that they both realized that the sky was covered with clouds, thunder rumbling within them as it passed overhead. As they looked, small droplets of water began to rain down, first as a drizzle, but began to increase in pace as they stared up. At this, Mikleo first smiled, and then burst into laughter, the rain drops now pouring down on the both of them and soaking them to the bone. Sorey could only look at Mikleo with a quizzical expression, and Mikleo laughed even more when he noticed Sorey staring at him. In between breaths, Mikleo spoke.

“It’s just that...you were telling me something, and just...” he breathed in for air, “...sorry. You were so serious and BAM this storm comes out of nowhere-”

His voice is cut off by a small flash of lightning in the distance far from the town, accompanied by a low rumble of thunder. Sorey’s expression turned into surprised for a split second, which caused Mikleo to laugh more at Sorey’s distraught reaction.

All at once, Sorey’s eyes suddenly lit up and he turned to Mikleo smiling once more.

“Do you think...wait, is this storm caused by us?!”

Mikleo stopped laughing, but retained his smile as he looked at Sorey. He shrugged, almost feigning childish innocence as if he had committed a small crime, and looked again to the city, its lights still on.

“...who knows? Though we are sitting on Sindra’s vessel, I highly doubt it would have any direct effect on the land around us...”

He tapped his cheek with his index finger and looked up. “...however, if we hypothetically look at it, our emotions right now could have the potential to indirectly dictate the surrounding elements akin to our own and thus project it within this domain for just a short instance...”

Mikleo trailed off and without so much turning his head to look at Sorey, he side glanced him and gave a small mischievous smile. It was a characteristic Sorey hadn’t seen in a long time, and given the circumstances, he knew Mikleo was playing around with him and knew very well that their emotions just so happened to dictate the elements around them. Sorey nudged Mikleo a bit on the side, to which Mikleo reacted to and he laughed.

“You’re real sly, you know that?” Sorey commented, and he laughed as Mikleo just smiled.

“There’s no direct harm to anyone, rest assured. Since I believe...our emotions are merely personal attributes to helping everyone around us and...emotions that depict our own personal emotions to each other.”

Sorey just shook his head and another jolt of lightning in the distance flashed. The rain continued to pour down, but neither of them decided to move as they both sat next to each other, still in each other’s company as they sat upon the bell tower.

When another low rumble of thunder was heard, Sorey looked up; and whether if it was that thunder or the continuous rainfall that encouraged him, Mikleo turned to Sorey; ponytail soaked, bangs completely flattened, circlet glistening with the water droplets falling off of it. In that moment that Sorey observed him, Mikleo slowly closed the space between the two of them and gently gave a kiss to him.

He felt the warmth of Mikleo’s mouth clash with his against the cool air around them, but it was the sudden presence of touch that sent jolts up Sorey’s spine and inevitably (and probably) sent another lightning flash in the distance. It ended as quickly as it began, and Mikleo pulled away in a manner that was very much like him. Sorey could tell he was beyond another shade of red, since he typically did not initiate as much as Sorey did, and he could only smile at how Mikleo’s mannerisms were just so very...Mikleo, for a lack of better terms in Sorey’s mind.

 As soon as Mikleo opened his mouth again (probably to try to apologize for his rashness), Sorey cupped one side of Mikleo’s face and pulled him close again, his other hand on Mikleo’s shoulder for support. He almost smiled midway through the kiss as Mikleo pulled him closer by wrapping his arms around Sorey’s neck, this time prolonging the length. The rain continued to pour around them and some time during the moment, Sorey realized he never finished his speech to Mikleo, but he internally brushed it off, realizing that Mikleo was right all along when he always told him that he was much better in expressing through action versus words.

When the rain began to finally die down, they both found themselves face to face with one another, forehead resting upon each of their own and their eyes locked together. Mikleo still kept his arms around Sorey’s neck and Sorey’s hands somehow found themselves on Mikleo’s waist, but he kept it there, until the rain completely ceased. Wordlessly, they stared at each other as the world around them continued on, and it was through a smile that they both mutually understood the unspoken promise between themselves.

“I was buried underneath and all that I could see was white, My salvation.”

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

Omfg yes please write Sormik hanahaki, it will be so painful

done and done i hope the angst is to your liking my friend (╯’ u ’)╯

FYI, This whole endeavor was heavily inspired by @doodlesala‘s work for Sormik Week 2017 found here (really it’s beautiful you should go see it).  

Enjoy!!

[Read on AO3]

The first petal came without warning, in the middle of a fight while ontheir way to Rayfalke Spiritcrest. Sorey had just deflected a hellion that hadcharged for Mikleo’s open back—a weird and filmy moment in the Shepherd’s memory—andfelt a tickle in the back of his throat. He shoved himself in between, behindthe water seraph, and swung his sword in a wide arch to move the enemy and theother beast with it back. He purified the first hellion. He felt himself gag.

He bent his body away from the battle. Something was rising with everyawkward and half-obscured breath and when whatever-it-was turned out to be softand tickled his lip after he coughed it up, he curiously lifted it away to seea soft blue petal.

Funny, he thought as he stared at the petal pinched between his twofingers in puzzled shock. He couldn’t remember eating flowers for breakfast.

“Sorey!” Mikleo cried out. His voice was strangely distant.

Back to the fray, then; as quickly as he had left it. Sorey dropped the petal,spun, and parried off the beast that came for him with an open maw.

He forgot all about the petal until Marlind, when a second one surfacedin the middle of the night.

Like before, it started with a tickle. Sorey sat up and pressed a hand tohis throat with a wince. He pressed his other hand to the mattress beneath himas if holding himself upright would help get whatever was stuck in his airwayout. He coughed; Mikleo beside him stirred. Alisha slept without a care in thebed to their left, and Edna and Lailah were nowhere to be seen.

Sorey’s knees pulled up to form a tent in the blanket. He curled forward,covering his mouth until finally he felt the slip and slide of something softfall out of his mouth and into the palm of his hand.

It was strangely hypnotic to see such a bright, pretty blue thing lie thereso innocently, damp with his own saliva. It had been the cause of suchdiscomfort mere minutes prior; why was it so beautiful? Sorey turned the petalover and over, tracing its surface. He wondered if perhaps the far moreimportant question here to answer instead was: yes it was pretty, but why was it in his throat?

“Sorey…?”

Green eyes darted to bleary violet. Sorey’s hand clenched tight aroundthe petal and he smiled. “Sorry. Had a weird dream. Did I wake you?”

Mikleo made a sound somewhere between a groan and an affirmative grunt.His hands slid under the pillow, pressed together like a prayer. His amethysteyes closed. Sorey would be lying if he tried to claim that some part of himwasn’t fond of the endearingly human way Mikleo had taken to sleeping. “Whatwas it about?” the water seraph mumbled.

“Uh…” Sorey’s fist clenched tighter. He could feel the petal fray in hishold. “…nothing.”

Mikleo hummed. “Wow, what a ‘weird’ dream.”

“It was just…flowers, and…stuff.” Sorey stared at Mikleo. He shiftedunder the covers. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Me too,” Mikleo said, though he was already out by the time Soreyfinally laid back down.

The third time happened just after Alisha left and he was supposed tofeel “better.” Without so much strain on his own resonance, Sorey knew the ideawas he should be able to heal and recover and get stronger to fight moreMalevolence.

But if that was supposed to be the case, the young Shepherd wondered why inthe world it was, then, that he found himself doubled-over under the treebeside their camp early the next morning. He coughed and hacked his way throughthree petals that slipped out of his mouth. Harrowed breaths and shakingfingers reached for the small, blue things that had fallen among the roots,afraid to touch them—but more afraid than that to let anyone else see them.

Again…?

“Sorey?” Mikleo’s voice carried to him, gaining volume as the seraphapproached with measured footfalls. “Are you all right?”

Sorey’s hand snatched the petals out of sight. “Fine!” he answered. Bothfists clutched tight to his chest. He turned to look over his shoulder in timeto see his best friend stop within arm’s reach. From Sorey’s angle beneath him,the sunlight seemed to frame Mikleo’s pale hair around his face like a halo.

Mikleo crossed his arms over his chest. His amethyst eyes trailed alongthe ground around Sorey at the base of the tree carefully; Sorey thought hisheart might pound right out of his chest.

“You didn’t sound like it,” the seraph commented quietly. “Almost soundedlike you were throwing up.” All of a sudden, those eyes—so royal and violet andbeautiful—snapped to his and narrowed. “Were you?”

“N-no!”

“You’re not just trying to play the ‘strong’ card again, are you?” Mikleoasked flatly. “Because if you’re sick, you’re sick. Let’s just head back toMarlind until you feel better; there’s no need to make a big deal about it.”

“I’m not sick,” Sorey tried to say, but his voice sounded weak even tohis ears. Was he?

Something unreadable passed over Mikleo’s face. He paused, his formcompletely still; his eyes stared into Sorey’s with an intensity that almostscared the kneeling Shepherd. But when he spoke, his voice was quieter thanbefore. “Sorey?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

Sorey turned to fully face the seraph. His hands, still clenched, fellaway from his chest and pressed to his knees. “Yeah! Yeah, of course I would…!”

Mikleo’s face tightened. His jaw clenched and unclenched as if workingfor words that wouldn’t come. Finally, his hands dropped to his sides. “Yeah,all right. Well.” He took a breath. “C’mon. I’m telling Lailah and Edna.”

“Wait! About what?”

“We’re going back and you’re going to rest.That’s what.”

“Mikleo…!”

Going back to Marlind, Sorey found, actually turned out to be both ablessing and a curse. Briefly bedridden in a town full of books first gaveSorey the idea to research for information as to what was happening to him. Butthe truth about petals popping up out of peoples’ mouths were nowhere to befound in the literature Marlind had available. He had to keep looking.

Lastonbell had some tragic folktales whispered among their cobblestonestreets that mentioned unrequited love and lips full of flowers, but they werenothing concrete Sorey could glean information from. They were just depressing.

The first bit of hope Sorey could get his hands on didn’t come untilPendrago, and by that point, he had already been steadily leaving behind thegroup a small trail of petals drifting after their footsteps along theirjourney. Stolen moments hidden away—“I need to go to the bathroom”—as soon asthe itch in the back of his throat started. Vignettes of solitude interruptedby swirling nausea and one, then two, then three, then four petals.

One horrible day, he coughed up seven.

It did not escape his notice he could have folded himself a pale bluerose with the fallen pieces; he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

The petal count steadily increased week by week, and soon, day by day.

Then, Sorey finally found the word: hanahaki.

It was in an old mythology textbook in the library at Pendrago. A namefor the mysterious flowers that sprouted up from somewhere deep within; a ‘disease’born from a spell (not that Sorey remembered ever having been struck by such aspell) that only worked under very specific internal conditions:  the intended target had to have a love foranother that was, to their knowledge, unreturned. Should that condition be met,the target of the spell would slowly, over time, start to choke on the ‘flowersof their affection’ stirred up from inside.

Sorey traced the short entry with his fingers and committed them tomemory. Hanahaki, hanahaki. At somepoint, he had to have been hit with such a spell as the one detailed in thetext, but what boggled him was how? Why? And perhaps more importantly than bothof those questions:  was there a cure?Sorey’s eyes drifted to the words below.

Sharply, he snapped the book shut and shoved it back onto the libraryshelf. He stared for a moment at the innocent, faded navy siding of the tome.He felt his heart pound hard inside his chest at the same time as it pangedwith guilt. He spun away and wondered how long it would take to find the otherswho were still milling, he hoped, somewhere in the library. He wondered if theywould notice if he took his time trying to find them again.

Sorey wasn’t a fool.

He had known even before he and Mikleo had left Elysia that he loved theseraph. He knew that fact as easy as he knew his own name; it was obvious. Mikleowas easy to be around and so deeply intertwined in his life that whenever Soreythought about the great and unknown expanse of the future stretching beforehim, there had been no question in his mind that he wanted Mikleo there with him to face it all, more than anyone else.

He loved Mikleo.

There had never been a need toquestion it. So the success of the hanahakispell wasn’t surprising to the Shepherd in the least. Yes, there wassomeone he loved; yes, there was someone he deeply cared about and wanted toprotect. But the only arduous part of the entire matter was that the key to hiscure, then, didn’t rest in his own hands.

It rested in Mikleo’s.

And it quickly became apparent to Sorey as he walked by shelves andshelves filled with books as far as the eye could see, endlessly wandering andchurning this newfound knowledge over and over again in his mind, that if theonly way to rid himself of this spell was to have Mikleo return his affections,then there might really be nothing he could do to save himself.

If Mikleo loved him back, then that would be great—for many reasons otherthan just not dying because of flower petals.

But if Mikleo didn’t, then that meant there was no safe way for Sorey toarrange for his own survival.

What am I supposed tosay? Hey, Mikleo, please love me so you can save my life! What kind of questionis that?

No, that wasn’t an option. All of the expectations and pressure thatcould be placed on his best friend, putting Mikleo in such a situation where hehad to somehow find it within himself to love him in a way that maybe the waterseraph hadn’t ever really wanted to—Sorey didn’t want anything to do with that.He couldn’t put Mikleo in thatsituation. Wouldn’t. Ever.

“Sorey! There you are!”

So that left him few other choices if he wanted to survive this, if thereeven were any leftover. The entry in this book in the Pendrago library wassmall, but Sorey had to hold out hope, right? Perhaps there were other booksout there. Perhaps there were other options available to him than justmanipulating his best friend’s feelings—

“We’ve been looking everywhere foryou! I’m so bored; are you ready to leave yet? We might want to think aboutheading back to the inn here pretty soon. Edna’s threatened to gouge outMikleo’s eyes if he doesn’t stop reading, and y’know, I can’t quite tell yetwhen she’s joking or not….hey, you listening?”

—a hand on his shoulder turned him around.

Sorey raised his gaze from the carpet, bright green meeting sapphireblue. Rose’s eyes raked over his face. The bright grin on her face faltered.

“Hey,” she said. Her voice dropped in volume; her hand didn’t leave hisshoulder. “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

Sorey looked back to Rose and didn’t know what to say. What could he say?

He licked his lips. “Can I…talk to you about somethin’?”

Rose’s back straightened. Her hand squeezed his shoulder; it didn’t fallaway. “Hey. You know you can, Sorey.”

Sorey nodded. He took a breath.

Rose, to her credit, did not look away once. Sorey told her about thespell—or maybe curse—he was under. He confessed he didn’t know when it had beenplaced on him; she didn’t laugh when he said he didn’t remember. She didn’tpull away when she heard about the flower petals. She didn’t even blink when heconfessed to her his affections for Mikleo—actually, for some reason, shestarted to smile at that but Sorey wasn’t sure how to interpret the way it soclosely resembled a feline’s—and the awkward place this put him in.

She stayed right with him until the end of his story and in the quietafterwards, she sighed.

Rose placed a hand on her hip and raised the other to scratch at the backof her head. “Wow. That…sucks.”

Sorey chuckled softly, a little hopelessly. He nodded; he wasn’t sure ifthat was the words he would use to describe it, but they were close enough. Hiseyes dropped to the floor. “Yeah, I guess so,” he murmured.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. Her bright blues reevaluated theShepherd before her. “Do you think you’ll tell the others?”

A cold jolt sparked down Sorey’s chest. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“I mean, this is all because of a spell, right?” Rose asked. “Andseraphim are like, centuries old. Somaybe Lailah knows something about it. Heck, even Edna. They use all sorts ofweird magic to do what they do, yeah?”

Sorey’s cheeks dusted red. He raised a hand to scratch just under hiseye. “Yeah, maybe.”

Rose sighed after a moment of pause. “You’re not going to tell them, areyou?”

Sorey pressed his lips tightly together. Something like shame colored hisface and spread down his neck to his collar. “Rose, if Mikleo found out—“

“—no, no, I get it. I get it.” Rose shifted her weight. “Believe me, Ido.” She frowned, eyes taking in Sorey, the carpet, the books to their rightand left. All of these pages of writing and years of history and no guidance onwhat to do when a hanahaki spell forcedyou to hold your silence. “Look, I won’t tell you what to do, because I don’t know what to do here, but if you needhelp at any time as we try and figure this out, let me know. Okay?”

It was more than Sorey had wanted. He nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

“I mean it,” Rose stressed. Her blue eyes pinned the green ones acrossfrom her. “This doesn’t have to be like that Shepherd thing, okay? You alreadygot to deal with that; you’re not dealing with this alone, too. No, scratchthat—I’m not letting you deal with italone. You don’t even get a choice. So you’ve got to let me know when you needsomething, all right?”

Sorey smiled and for some odd and wonderful reason, he laughed. Relief,warm and happy, slid through him. “Yeah, okay,” he said with a quiet bounce.“Thanks, Rose.”

Rose hadn’t known how tense she held her shoulders until she felt themrelax. “Yeah,” she said back. “Don’t mention it.”

They set up a system. When Sorey felt the familiar tickle in the back ofhis throat, he gave Rose a sign. All the assassin had to see was a tap to thefront of his neck, and she understood. She came up with excuse after excuse tohelp Sorey get a moment to himself. It ranged by the day.

“Hey, Sorey, why don’t you get us some firewood? I hear it’s gonna getcold tonight!”

“Wow, Sorey, you smell. Take abath already! Go on, get out of here! Pew-pew!”

It worked until it didn’t.

Until the attacks took more and more time because the petals just keptcoming. The gasps between coughs grew too short and the nausea swept in like athick cloud. There were days Sorey thought he’d black out because he couldn’t breathe around all of the blue. Sevenpetals at the end of an episode became a mercy; more often than not Sorey foundhimself coughing up to ten. Sometimes, fifteen.

The numbers continued to increase; Sorey didn’t know what he could do.Gododdin offered no new hope or information in their small library to analternate route that could stop the curse. Sorey began to wonder if the spellwould really kill him before he got a chance to purify the world.

Then the night came where Sorey couldn’t stop coughing and Rose wasn’tthere to help him and everything changed.

It had been after the Fire Trial. Rose was bedridden because she had beenheavily injured in the final fight against the armored Salamander; she restedback at the inn in Gododdin with Lailah, who also needed to recover fromIgraine. Sorey felt the timely, familiar itch at the back of his throat andfumbled for an excuse about taking a walk outside.

He should have known with such a throw-away line he would have beenfollowed.

Sorey had taken a single step outside of the inn and gagged. He stumbled.He clasped a hand to his mouth and forced himself to breathe. In and out—in andout. No matter how thin each inhale and exhale was. He could feel the firstpetals flutter in the back of his mouth.

He pushed on.

Sorey got just far enough away from the small village, tucked away in acorner between the cliffsides where he was sure he wouldn’t be seen, before helet his hand fall away. The petals came, one after another through seizingcoughs, steadily. Sometimes, three or four fell out in a single heave. A gaspand a gag and then more fell out and onto the ground and Sorey couldn’t stopit. They just came. He tried to breathe between every other strangled rasp, buthe couldn’t get the chance to inhale enough to even exhale.

He raised one hand to his mouth, shaking, trying to stem the flow. Thepetals came anyway, slipping out, between his fingers. He raised his other handand felt a harsh tightness in his chest. Two at a time fluttered past his hands—

“Sorey?”

His gasp nearly choked him on the petals still coming up. Sorey, with ahandful of light blue still pressed to his mouth, snapped around. His greeneyes were wet and wide.

There stood Mikleo, with amaranthine eyes equally as wide, his hands athis sides.

“D—“ Sorey gagged. He bent over, shoulders curled in.  A tear slipped from his eye and his headpounded with pain. He dropped a hand to the ground, keeping himself upright. Hecouldn’t breathe. His lungs hackedfor air. “—I’m—“

“Y-you idiot!”

It wasn’t the response he expected. Neither was the shadow that fell overhim and the hands that grasped his shoulders, pulling him back towards aslender chest. Mikleo’s touch was cool against his fevered skin. Soreyshuddered; his stomach flipped. “Is this whatyou’ve been trying to hide from me? I knewthere was something wrong!”

Sorey coughed over the next three that landed on his tongue. He breathedthem free. “I’m—I’m sorry—“

“Don’t you dare try and say that right now. I’m—“ Mikleo shook his headand sighed out a horrible breath. “—just…just breathe, okay? I may not know what this is, but I can bet that panickingdoesn’t help.” The hands on Sorey’s shoulders squeezed. “So calm down, breathe,and let it come. Okay?”

“’Kay,” Sorey warbled. Two more petals dropped through his shakingfingers.

Mikleo kept him pressed to his chest and didn’t let go. Sorey could hearthe shudder of his breath in the gaps between his own haggard gasps. A handfound its way into his hair.

“This has been going on since Marlind, right?” Mikleo’s voice was quiet,unobtrusive. His chest rose and fell and Sorey listened, shuddering. The waterseraph corrected himself. “No, before that. Ever since you took that curse. That’s when it really started.Isn’t it?”

Curse?

Sorey moved to sit up. His stomach swam; he swallowed and felt anawkward, choking flutter in his throat. He coughed out two more and groaned. “C-curse…?”

Mikleo frowned. “You don’t remember? There was that spell in RayfalkeSpiritcrest that you took for me. We were fighting that one hellion with that…wolf-thing.”

Vague images swim to the forefront of Sorey’s mind; filmy snapshots of abattle that he half-remembered, intermittent with the familiar feel of hissword in his hand and a wide arc to his swing that left him open. Kind of likeMikleo’s back, which he had been trying so hard to defend. It felt so long agocompared to now, where he was cradled in the middle of a small pool of petals thathad been born from within himself.

“You leapt in the way of it and got hit with this spell we’d never seenbefore, but you didn’t go down. You kept fighting like nothing happened, so weall assumed you were fine and it didn’t work.” The frown on Mikleo’s facedeepened. “I should’ve known it wasn’t nothing.”

Sorey’s chest shook with another rattling cough. His hand caught the nextpetals. “S-sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”Mikleo asked.

Sorey shook his head, unable to find the words, but Mikleo shook his headright back, quick and firm. Forcefully, he turned Sorey’s shoulders to facehim. “No, stop that. We’re talking aboutthis, you idiot. I don’t care if you’re mad at me; I’m making this right. Rightnow.”

Sorey’s brow dipped down. He frowned. “Mad? Why would I…be mad at you?”

“Because I was the reason you got hitwith this—whatever-it-is!” Mikleo waved a hand towards the petals lyingaround them; petals he himself was kneeling in without fear or disgust. It wasa strange time for Sorey to suddenly feel overwhelmed with gratitude andfondness for the seraph who hadn’t batted an eye at the strange sight of hisbest friend coughing up blue flowers. But warmth blossomed through him, anyway.His stomach gave a twinge of warning.

Mikleo continued talking. “I thought you were mad at me because of something the curse was doing to you.”

“Why?” Sorey wracked his mind to try and understand. He coughed out apetal, then two. They floated to the ground between their close knees. “Whywould I be mad at you for something—“ –a thin breath— “—something like that?”

“I don’t know!” Mikleo’s hands clenched into fists in the arms of Sorey’scloak. “You wouldn’t talk to me aboutit. You wouldn’t say anything anymoreand you started acting weird. You’d come up with these pathetic excuses to gooff and be by yourself at random times, and I thought you didn’t want to bearound me anymore.”

“W-what?”

“Let me finish!”

Sorey could see the sheen in Mikleo’s violet eyes. It made him quiet,staring at his friend, his dearest person,as he clung to him by thin handholds.

Mikleo visibly swallowed. A strange tension started to form at the edgesof his temple and in the clench of his jaw. It reminded Sorey of a moment undera tree some months ago when he saw that same handsome face work for words thatjust would not come.

“We have always told each othereverything, Sorey. Always. And whenyou started drawing into yourself—“ –the water seraph shook his head—“—watching you do that because you’re the Shepherd is one thing, because thereare some things you do and have to deal with that I can’t understand. But whenyou didn’t want to talk to me about this cursethat had been put on you all because you were trying to protect me—and when you started hanging out withonly Rose more and more, Ithought—w-well, what else was Isupposed to think?!”

Guilt dropped heavily into Sorey’s stomach, a cold and sinking stone.

“It’s not like you to be angry or hold a grudge at anything. I know that,more than anyone. But I guess I was still…” Suddenly, sharply, Mikleo shook hishead. His face grew tighter. His eyes snapped to Sorey’s. “No, what I thoughtdoesn’t matter. I want to help, Sorey. I know I messed up by getting you inthis mess, so I want to make this right by getting you out of it. Let me helpyou.”

Sorey’s back straightened quickly. Alarm blared through his mind; hishead swam. “But—“ What could he say?

“—let me finish, Sorey,” Mikleorepeated, his gaze unwavering. His hands freed themselves from the Shepherd’scloak and raised to the young man’s cheeks, cupping them with a suddenreverence. “Even if you don’t like me as much as you used to, please, let me help. I still care about you, okay? I still—”

“—Mikleo—“

“—I love you, Sorey.”

Sorey’s heart skipped a beat.

A soft gasp escaped him. His eyes widened.

For one surreal moment, time seemed to stand still; all life stoppedbreathing, stopped existing, stopped turning just for one small moment when Sorey stared into Mikleo’seyes and something loosened deep in his chest.

“W…” Sorey found himself unable to breathe for an entirely differentreason than the bright blue petals now encircling them, lying in stark contrastto the deep red earth of Biroclef Ridge. “…what did you say…?”

Mikleo’s eyes shut tight with a wince. His hands slowly pulled away fromSorey’s face. “I said…I said ‘I love you.’”

Silence drifted between them.

Mikleo didn’t dare open his eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have saidthat. I know that puts you in a bad positi—“

He didn’t get the chance to finish.

Soft lips pressed to his own in a messy kiss. They tasted something likehydrangeas and lavender and Mikleo gasped into it, electricity shooting throughhim. His eyes shot open.

Sorey’s hands had latched themselves into his shirt.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Mikleo found his own hands wandering back firstto Sorey’s cloak, and then his shoulders. They gripped tight the fabric theycould find, fingers digging and holding. One hand slid up to cup a tanned cheek.

They parted too soon.

“S-Sorey…?” Mikleo licked his lips; he could still taste Sorey on them.

The human before him chuckled, something warm, soft, and husky that madeMikleo shiver for reasons he couldn’t fully name. “I guess I’m not the onlyidiot here if you honestly think I would have eyes for anyone else but you.”

Amaranthine looked to emerald. “So Rose isn’t—“

“—not in a million years.” Sorey’s grin was too wide to be a lie. Mikleofound himself easing into his hands as they slid around the small of his back.“I’ll explain it all later. I’m sorry I couldn’t have told you earlier, but now,you more than anyone deserve to know what’s been going on.”

Mikleo nodded. His eyes drifted down to the petals still lying aroundtheir legs; a theater of flowers for the stage of their little ‘budding’romance. Lailah would be proud of thatone. “I imagine it’s quite a story.” He raised his gaze to Sorey’s eyesagain, growing serious once more. “Do you promise to let me in, too, this time?I can help. I’ll do everything I can to help you get better, Sorey. We can lookthis curse up in the libraries we’ve visited; there’s got to be something inthere on how to cure—“

“—Mikleo,” Sorey said, with a smile on his face that could rival the sun.“As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already cured me.”

Skepticism painted itself on pale, porcelain features. Mikleo raised athin eyebrow. “Is this from one of your awful poems?”

“No,” Sorey stifled a laugh.

“Is this you playing the ‘strong’ card again?”

“No,” Sorey repeated and laughed again. “This is me finally telling youthe truth.”

He leaned forward and kissed Mikleo again, bringing their bodies as closetogether as he could. A clear wind whistled through the canyon and swept up theremains of flower petals around them. It tossed them into the sky.

[tmariea]

We Have No Need to Swim

For Sormik Week Day 4 - Loss

Summary:  What if sea monsters are water seraphim who went down into the ocean and never came back up? They sunk down to the depths to escape the pain of malevolence and grief, and there they fell anyways. They lurk in the darkness, lithe and sinuous, with milky blind eyes and wavering points of bioluminescence, ready to consume anything that comes too close. There is no happy ending.

WARNING: Major Character Death

Read on AO3

It is around year five hundred that the question comes to Mikleo – is there anything left to explore?  Somewhere along the way, he lost count of how many times he had crossed the continent.  He had documented every known ruin, and then gone back to document how they had changed with the deterioration of time.  He had published innumerable books and papers on the subject, reread and reworked them often enough for the words to lose their meaning.

What is one to do when the world loses that fantastic glimmer?  When the one thing that could bring back the light of discovery and novelty slumbers on, for ages unknown?

In the kinds of worries that strike late in the night, pulling sleep from his grasp, he wonders if even Sorey’s return can bring back his sense of wonder.

Other times, when those thoughts crept up the back of his spine, he would seek out Lailah or Edna.  Each were a comfort but in very different ways.  This time he doesn’t.  This time there is a restlessness in his feet that he hasn’t been able to quench for decades, though not for lack of trying, and so he packs a bag and heads out, on the hunt for even one last unseen corner of his world.

He keeps moving, through daylight and under the trail of stars.  The same trail of stars they had watched overhead one night in Lastonbell.  Mikleo had wanted to scream at Sorey for leaving, had wanted to kiss him and beg him to stay.  He hadn’t.  He had been so full of hope, then, full enough to drown out the worries.  He feels he’s done well at keeping hope, but even best efforts can be eroded with time.  He keeps moving; he doesn’t look at the night sky anymore.

He walks and walks until his toes meet the edge of the ocean tide, and looks across.  There is nothing but water as far as the eye can see.  And that is when Mikleo gets an idea.  What exists under the ocean, where no one has ever seen?  It is not as if he has ever had trouble breathing within his own element.  He leaves his pack on the shore, aside from a small notebook and some charcoal that he can use artes to protect from water damage, and takes his first steps into the surf.

It is beautiful in the depths of the ocean, like nothing Mikleo has ever experienced before.  It feels new.  The light is different in the way it shifts under the force of the waves above.  The creatures are different, in the schools of fish that come swimming up to him cautiously and curiously, only to dart away at the slightest movement.  He spends days carefully sketching them in his book, barely shifting aside from his hand.  The press of the water on his limbs feels like an embrace, and the way his hair drifts in the currents feels like gentle fingers on his scalp.  It’s been eons since he felt these things, and he is loath to give them up.

He doesn’t.

Mikleo leaves his spot near where he entered the water and begins to travel down the coast.  He is fascinated by the geography of the ocean floor, the way the water shapes the sediment, and the rocks.  Gentle waters create sloping sands which lead back up to the surface.  Where the waves are harsh, they crash against the rocks above.  There is the sound of their beat in his ears, murkier waters before his eyes, and plenty of rough ground to stumble on under his feet.  When it gets too bad, he swims instead.  Sometimes, cliffs drop sheer into the water, and if he goes far enough out, there’s a cliff under the ocean as well.  That drops off harshly and into darkness; Mikleo decides to leave that place be, for now.

He loves feeling the barest changes in pressure as the tides roll in and out.  He’s always had a faint sense for the moon, but here it is stronger than ever.  He can feel the way it shapes his environment, shapes the water.  The moon, he thinks, must be a water seraph.  Then, he laughs at himself for the fanciful notions.  That is the kind of image Sorey would have loved, he thinks, then notices the past tense and corrects himself.  Sorey will love that image, some day.

He jots a note in the back pages of his book, separate from his observations of the ocean floor, and then tamps down anything he might feel on the matter.

Mikleo hasn’t been keeping track of time well, but he thinks he has spent a few months under the water when he comes upon the ruin.  He can feel his heart soaring, in a way that it hasn’t in ages.  This is a new ruin, new history, new things to explore and build theories on.  It’s exactly what he had been missing before.  He wonders who lived there.  He wonders how this place came to be under the sea.

There is an open archway leading inside, and Mikleo walks through, after taking a moment to brush his hands along the frame.  Between the creatures that have made their home there, he can make out patterns.  They are long since worn down by the constant sway of the ocean, but he will have to come back later, to see what he can find.

Just inside the hall, it is dark.  Not much sun finds its way to the ocean floor anyway, and none inside this ruin.  Mikleo summons mana in his palm, calling on it to glow.  Once he has a sufficient ball, he sends it towards the ceiling, and then makes a second for himself to carry.  Even this doesn’t fully illuminate the space, although he gasps in delight at the what he can see.  The ceiling soars several stories high, and is decorated by delicate, beautiful vaulting.  In a way it reminds him of the Sanctuary in Ladylake, but there’s something slightly different, too.  He will have to swim up and examine them later.  For now, he heads towards the ground story walls, where his light catches on the curves of engravings and casts the dips into shadow.

Mikleo is examining the fresco he found - which is a fascinating mix of styles, parts harkening to Temperance of Avarost while others, strikingly, bear a resemblance to the art which arose during his own Age of Chaos despite the fact that it must be thousands of years old - when he feels a domain brush his own.  It’s the last thing he expected to find down here in the depths of the ocean.  He whirls to face the room, hair floating softly in the eddies caused by his sudden movement.  His eyes strain against the darkness, as the outline of a figure wavers across the vast space.  He summons his staff and holds it at the ready, waiting for the figure to approach.

It is a woman who comes into his light, moving in a way that glides more than she walks or swims, with tendrils of blue hair drifting around and in front of her face.  As they shift, he can see that the tips of her ears have turned to fins, and the pupils of her eyes are slits and milky with near-blindness.  She raises a hand in greeting, and there are blue webs between her clawed fingers, blue fins along her forearms, and the glint of scales visible through the patches in her deteriorating robes.

“Can you put out the light?  It’s too bright,” she says.  Her voice sounds scratchy, unused, even through the way the water distorts sound.  He suspects if it was not their element, they would not be able to understand each other at all.

“Ah, okay,” Mikleo says and lets the light above them shrink and fade.  He lets the one near him fade, but not go out, and keeps his staff at the ready; while the seraph might be acting calm, she looks as if she has been tainted.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Amelia.  Although, it has been a long time since I have had reason to say it.”

“I’m Mikleo,” he ventures, for the sake of politeness, and then wonders if a half-tained seraph would have any care for manners.  He nearly snorts at the strange thought, but holds it in.  For a moment more, the two of them look at each other, just as wary as before, before Mikleo asks the question burning in his mind, “How did you come to be here?”

Amelia blinks, and the fins on her arms twitch, as if she is anxious or unsure.  “We came here to escape the malevolence of the world above, when it became too much.”  She must have some sight left, despite her milky eyes, because her face twists and she laughs as Mikleo winces.  The laugh is a hollow, grinding thing, like waves against the rocks.  It is not pleasant, but even more than that, it is frightening; it contains no emotion at all.  Mikleo clutches his staff until his knuckles turn white, and wills himself to hold his ground and not take a step back.

“It didn’t work, as you can see,” she finally finishes, once her bout of strange laughter is done.

“The world above is much more pure now,” Mikleo blurts out.

She stares him down, without blinking this time, and then says, “That is a nice thought.  I am glad.  But it is not one for me.”

A moment of silence passes, and then another.  Amelia does not seem inclined to say more, or to move just yet.  Finally, Mikleo clears his throat and asks, “We?”

“There were more of us once.”

And he knows.  He knows exactly why there are no others here with her.  He asks anyway, “How?”

She laughs her awful, soulless laugh again and Mikleo forces himself not to cringe.  “How am I the only one left?”

That wasn’t what he had meant, but he is not willing to correct her.

Amelia shrugs.  “Some fall faster than others. Those who hold sorrow or darkness in their hearts, perhaps. I'm one of the lucky ones. Or maybe, I'm not.”

Suddenly Mikleo doesn’t want to talk to this woman anymore.  Standing in front of him is a fate that he has spent his life pushing back against, that Sorey had sacrificed himself to prevent.  And here it is still.  He feels the last five hundred years spent alone - and for what? - laying heavy on him.  He feels sick to his stomach.

She studies him for a moment more, eyes narrowing and ear fins twitching.  “Stay away from the depths,” she warns, and it sounds like mourning.  “Stay away from the older ones, the darker ones.  There is nothing left there.”  And then, Amelia turns and walks away, out of his light, and taking the feeling of her domain with her, wrapped tight around her shoulders like a cloak.

In the time that Mikleo spends scouring every inch of the entrance hall and the rooms nearby, he does not meet Amelia again.  It seems she is just as content to stay away as he is to have her gone.  Although, he does always keep the senses in his domain alert for any other surprises that might come along.

From time to time, schools of fish swim in and out.  These he likes, and always takes some time away from his study to coax them close and let them swim between his fingers and hair.  Their cool, smooth bodies and vibrant, tiny lives are grounding.  They move so fast, reminding him of the time passing in a way that he often forgets.  He tries to rack his brain for how long he has been under the water, and comes up short.

He doesn’t mind that as much as he thought he would.  He remembers the way time was starting to drag before he came down into the ocean, so he could do with a little bit of feeling like it’s flying by.

At any rate, the ruin is vast and there is much more to be explored.  By questing with his own domain, he believes that there are several upper stories and a basement, perhaps two, in this vast place.  Upper floors are the way to go, he thinks as he approaches a grand, soaring stairway and begins to ascend.  Superstition can’t help but tell him that there will be darker things, more things like Amelia, down below.

And yet, something in him is still not surprised when, several rooms into his grand exploration of the second floor, he finds a monstrous creature.  Or, really, it’s not so much that Mikleo finds the monster, than the monster finds him.  He is narrowly saved by the feeling in the water of the thing’s passing, and reflexes which make him bring his staff up to block as it rams into him.

This thing is all teeth, rows and rows of them, and tiny, milky eyes, and wicked-sharp looking spines.  For half of a panicked second, he remembers a frightening, hollow laugh, but then he realizes this thing is small, and for all its fierce appearance, not very powerful.  Mikleo gathers the water before him, chills it hard and fast enough that it freezes despite the salt in the water, and waits for the monster to attack again.

It circles for a moment before charging again, and runs head-first into Mikleo’s ice spear.  It shakes itself, shrieks in a way that makes the water all around him shudder, and then turns tail to slink off.

Mikleo is careful, reaching forward with all of the senses at his disposal before he tries to enter the room the monster came from, again.  It seems to be empty.  He guides one of his lights inside, and steps up to the doorway before he freezes.  Inside, there is a dark purple miasma slowly pulsing and twisting in its own mindless hunger.  There are eons of hurt here, little eddies and pockets of it that drift about on the currents like dark jellyfish.  They had always known they needed to purify the land, but who would ever think to purify the sea?

His heart thumps madly, painfully in his chest. There has been so much work done, to purify the land.  And yet, this reminds him of nothing so much as the cities of Glennwood when he and Sorey first set out from Elysia centuries ago.  And this is just one room, in one ruin, in the vast ocean.  How much of the water is infused with malevolence, how much of it has he touched?  If things are still like this here, how in the world will Sorey ever cleanse enough of the world to wake?

That is not a thought to be thinking.  Instead, he swirls the water in the room into a cyclone to chase away the patches of malevolence.  It goes streaming past him as he directs it away.  Inside, there are more fascinating carvings, similar to the ones in the grand hall below.  Even without looking closely, he has a thrill up his spine that these ones might help him unlock answers.

He decides, even though there is malevolence here, that he will stay.

Mikleo hasn’t written in his notebook as much as he once has.  The beginning, when he flips through, is packed full of sketches of fish and notes in a tiny exacting hand on comparisons of art and architecture between historical periods and the periods in which he has lived.  The notes are still tiny and exacting in the later half, but it certainly took him several times the amount of time that it did to fill the front, especially since he’s collected plenty enough on the art style here to put together some answers.  When he reaches the last page, he finds a note, to tell Sorey that he once had the silly notion that the moon was a water seraph.  Until then, he hadn’t even remembered the thought.

Mikleo looks at the page for a moment, decides that he will not write anything more there, and shuts the book.  He slides it into the pouch on his belt, still wrapped in magical protections.  The thought that he should return to the surface for another is gone from his mind almost as fast as it came.  Besides, it’s become hard to write anymore with the webbing slowly creeping between his fingers.

There is a day, when he leans close to a section of wall, to examine an old trap.  It’s no longer a danger to him - the rope connecting the mechanism has long-since rotted away.  But it’s fascinating anyway.  As he looks, his eyes begin to hurt.  He rubs them, feeling his fingers skim along the tiny ridges forming underneath.  The ridges had concerned him once, but not anymore.  The touch does not help with his eyes, though.

He thinks that maybe he has been looking at fine detail too long, and that they need a rest.  He turns away from the wall only to come face to face with one of his glowing spheres.  The light is harsh on his hurting eyes this close.  He’s always kept two with him, one for up close and one to illuminate the wider spaces, so he thinks it might not be a bad thing to put one of them out for now, while he rests.  He lets it fade, and breathes a sigh of relief.

He has been practicing finer control of sensing his surroundings in the water.  There are things his eyes miss these days; probably his eyes have always missed things, but the water - it’s in everything.  It misses nothing.

That is probably the reason he feels the creature in the water first, knows the shape of it to be like a man, before he ever senses the domain of a seraph.  He is shocked; the last time he felt something of the like was when he met Amelia again a few months - years? - ago.  Even then, she had hardly felt like a seraph anymore, and certainly nothing like this one, who is pure to the core, and in some way familiar.

He decides his curiosity is enough to venture up from the basement level where he has spent most of his time lately, back up the grand staircases and out to the hall, where this one waits.

As he makes his way through the series of halls and rooms, he feels something flash by his cheek.  It makes beautiful trails in the water with its passing.  It takes him a moment to realize it’s a fish, and he feels something strange in his chest when he can’t remember the last time he saw one.  He does remember, though, feeling them dart around him, and in and out of his fingers.  When the next one passes him by, he snatches it from his path, with the aid of the webbing on his fingers and a twist he makes in the water.  He feels it wriggle against his palm for a moment, the smooth, coolness of its scales.  He wonders what it might be like to eat it, but then he lets the fish go and continues on.

There in the entrance hall is the owner of the domain.  He senses it is a man, shorter than him but not by much, and sees with what failing eyesight he has left that the man is swathed in blue.  Although, it is hard to tell through the light.

“Mikleo,” the man says.

He blinks, tries to think when it was he last heard that name.  He tries to think of who this man is.  He looks up towards the ceiling, and remembers this man in a similar place once, another grand room with grand vaulting and a sweeping roof.  “Uno,” he says back.

“I was sent to look for you, by Lailah and the others.  Although, Edna claims no interest in this endeavor.”

“Ah,” he says, and his mind runs through a hundred bored expressions, more often than not hidden away a moment later by an umbrella.  He thinks he says, “that’s just like her,” but when he looks back at Uno, blinking against the lights the other seraph has brought with him, he can’t be sure.

“They want you to come home.”  His senses in the water tell him Uno’s mouth and eyes are twisted with some kind of emotion.

Before he can even truly feel the word on his tongue, he’s saying, “No.”

“Brother,” Uno says, “can you truly say that this is you speaking, and not the malevolence?  I know the things it will make you do.”

He wracks his brain, his memories of the world above.  Edna is easy, since Uno mentioned her, she is her teasing and snide comments, but also in the way her voice cracks when she is truly worried for someone she claims not to love.  Lailah, she is warmth, and bad jokes, and a teacher despite her sometimes childish ways.  Zaveid is an old, solid presence, for all he tries to hide it under all of the flirting.  The memories are warm, but his heart twists in his chest to think of missing them, to think of how they would see him now.  He clutches his elbows, feeling the scales there under his fingertips.

And then, and then there is the one who is not there.  Sorey.  He is ruins, and bright green eyes, and falling asleep together as children.  He is sparring together, and tickle fights, and the only person Mikleo has ever kissed.  He is books, and a heart that welcomes in all he meets, and he is sacrifice.  And he is gone.  For more years, more centuries, than he ever got to live.

He no longer trusts that Sorey will be coming back.

His heart twists again, and it’s worse this time.  There’s a name to it, too.  Loneliness, sorrow, despair.  All feelings that spawn malevolence; all feelings malevolence spawns.  It is a vicious cycle, he thinks, and it is not a new thought.  He has thought it many times over the years, but this is the first time that he adds, what a cruel world .  Perhaps it is better to stay down in the dark and the silence.  He can’t escape it now, oh no, but he would no longer have to see others suffer for it.  No one would have to suffer when he, too, succumbs.

Finally, he looks back to Uno, who has waited in silence for his answer.  “I am the one speaking,” he says, as clear and as strong as he can.

“It would be a shame to lose a good water seraph. And a good friend.  You won’t reconsider?”

“No.”  He waits, for Uno to say something else.  When there is only silence, he adds, “I’m tired, Uno.  Tired of waiting for something which will never come.”

There must have been something in his face, because Uno sighs, and nods.  “I have strict orders to bring you back, you know.  But if this is truly your choice, I will respect it.  Lailah will roast me alive when I come back empty handed.”

“I am sorry,” he says, and he does feel it.

He watches, as Uno turns to go.  A moment later, he calls, “Uno!” and reaches to his belt for his notebook.  It’s been eons since he’s thought of the thing, but hearing him speak about returning empty handed reminded him.  At least some part of him must have remembered, though, because his artes are still firmly in place to keep it safe from the water.  He holds it out when the other seraph turns back to him, feels a second set of artes wrap around it, and lets go of his own.  “Give this to him,” he says.

Uno nods, takes the book, and turns away again.

He stays to watch Uno leave.  This won’t be the last, he thinks.  Lailah will find another water seraph to come retrieve him, and the next perhaps won’t be willing to leave him in peace.

Perhaps it is time to move on.  He walks out of the ruin once he can no longer feel Uno’s domain.  The light outside is nearly blinding, and so he closes his eyes, puts out his own lightt, and uses the water to guide him.  Where to go, which will be dark and hidden?  There are further depths, down the cliff in the water.

As he glides through the towering gate, he stops for a moment to run his hands along the sides, to feel the patterns under his fingertips between the creatures clinging there.  He never got the chance to come back and examine them.  He thinks he should be disappointed by this, but instead he just feels empty.

Later, when he reaches the cliffs, he doesn’t bother to create a new light for himself.

Light is a thing he knows as glowing points of blue.  They adorn his body in swirling trails, occasionally flicking in and out of vision as his body undulates in the current.  Other creatures come to it.  They slink through the darkness, into his small light, with eyes blurred and senses dulled and he eats them all.

Which is why it is so strange when another creature comes that makes its own light.  It’s a small thing, although not as small as some, but its light is so bright as it floods his milky eyes.  They feel like they’re searing out of his skull.  He hasn’t seen anything this bright since the days of sunlight.  That is a word that the ancient parts of him know, that the rest of him no longer understands.

But this creature, this man, is sunlight.  The brightest, most wonderful and most painful thing he has ever known.

He freezes when the man reaches out to touch him.  Nothing has touched him like this in eons, with gentleness and no fear.  “Oh Mikleo, what has become of you?”  Sound does not carry right through water, but he hears anyway.

That word, that name.  He’s heard it before, perhaps in a dream.  In a dream of sunlight, and air and this man.  There is noise in his head now, beating on his skull.  There are words there, trying to fight their way out of a mind that no longer understands, a mouth that can no longer shape them.  His heart beats fast.  He can feel this man’s heartbeat in the vibrations of the water.  It is fast too, but familiar, and that hurts.  Everything is hurt and confusion.  He wants it to all be quiet and dark again.

Because if it is not quiet and dark, then he has to remember what he was, what he has become, and what could have been – what they could have been.

The man is still touching him.  He’s speaking again, and no, no, stop, no more words.  He cannot take more words – they claw at him, wrench out these feelings that he cannot bear.  But he hears them anyway, because the world is not kind or merciful, and the man says, “I have searched for you for so long.  Won’t you come home?”

And there is a wave of anger.  “I have no home.  You left!” screams the ancient part of him.  Tries to scream it through his mouth, but it comes out as a roar.  There is no sound in the water, but the vibrations shake the stones on the sides of his trench; they come crashing down.  The man doesn’t flee; he clutches closer.

That touch seems to burn, that light burns, those thoughts crashing through his mind burn him from the inside out.  The ancient parts of him are still screaming.  They are crying and wailing and trying to claw their way out of these scales and fins and this cloud of darkness.  Anguish and the most bittersweet joy rise up and crash over him like waves, and he’s going to be dragged under.  He just wants it all to stop.  He reaches forward, to impose silence and darkness and a stilling of his thoughts in the only way he can now.

Somewhere in the depths of the ocean, a light goes out.  It is unnoticed, but for the small flock of creatures that had begun to swim towards its alluring glow.  They turn back now, interest lost.  Beneath them, a creature settles back into the darkness and the solitude, and wills his thoughts to stop and his heart to turn to stone.

[randomactuallywrites-57]

For the First Time

Title: For the First Time Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 1,936 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day two - Ladylake: Conflict/Trust Summary: Inexperience isn’t a bad thing, but Sorey’s always had a curious streak. Notes: I actually wrote the first draft of this one a while ago, but I think it kind of fits today’s prompts? In any case, please enjoy some shameless sormik.

Also on: AO3

Sorey has never been kissed. Or kissed anyone, for that matter.

This fact turns out to be far more shocking to Rose than he would have expected.

Even in the noisy cheer of the tavern, Rose’s laughter never fails to take precedence. He can only watch as her cheeks flush from lack of breath, unable to understand what about this is so shocking to her.

“I know you’re young, but this is too good,” Rose manages to say through the last bout of laughter. “Like, are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t really get what she’s saying. Surely his age shouldn’t have anything to do with this - Rose is only a little bit older than he is, after all.

“Wow, you really are as pure as Lailah says!” Rose finally calms down enough to take a drink. “Sure, it’s understandable that you couldn’t do it before you left home, but even after that you still haven’t?”

“I’ve kind of been busy,” Sorey points out, eyes flicking over to his Shepherd’s cloak, which is drying on the back of a seemingly empty chair.

(He’s learnt never to leave it on the coat pegs at the front of the tavern, not since someone tried to steal it one time. He’s lucky Rose managed to hunt the thief down. Now Lailah is the designated guardian of the Shepherd’s cloak when they’re at an inn.)

Only Lailah and Mikleo are sitting at the same table as them, with Edna and Dezel already having retired to their rooms (though the draught of cold air gives Sorey the sneaking suspicion Dezel is reading the wind to make sure Rose isn’t leaving by herself again). Whilst Mikleo doesn’t look at all interested in the discussion, Lailah is covering a smile with one of her hands.

“If Sorey wanted the normal human experience, he wouldn’t have become the Shepherd,” Mikleo points out with a smirk. Sorey recognises the half-teasing tone in his voice and sighs.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I think you made an admirable decision,” Lailah says. “But don’t let us stop you from having fun in your time off!”

Rose nods firmly. “Lailah’s right. I’m sure you could have your pick of any girl in Ladylake, or even anywhere else in Glenwood. Take your pick! Just make sure you’re back in time to find that trial of water with us.”

Sorey gives a nervous laugh. “I don’t really think that’s…” He trails off, not really knowing what to say.

To his left, Mikleo takes a long sip of his drink through the straw. It looks a little less odd to those without resonance than seeing the glass lift itself from the table, but that didn’t stop Mikleo from looking annoyed to have to use it. His expression looks somewhat miffed even now, but Sorey assumes he’s still annoyed about the straw.

(Sorey refuses to think that Mikleo’s expression might be due to the conversation.)

“Have you ever really thought about it?” Rose asks, this time more curious than teasing.

“Not really,” Sorey replies with a shrug.

“What about Mikleo? Has he ever thought about it?”

Mikleo shrugs. “We seraphim tend not to care too much about it.”

“Besides, Mikleo has a long life ahead of him,” Lailah says. “He has plenty of time. The same goes for Sorey.”

Sorey looks down at the table. The implication of Lailah’s words does not go unnoticed - he has a much shorter lifespan than Mikleo, after all. Perhaps that’s why Rose seems to care so much about his inexperience. But he still can’t bring himself to be too bothered about it.

Inexperience comes part and parcel with living with seraphim all your life. This is something Sorey has acknowledged for years, something he quickly learnt upon leaving his hometown.

He’s never thought of it as a weakness, though. Not having experienced things only means he has the chance to do so in the future. Curiosity is in his nature, and trying new things has never been something he’d say no to.

That being said, Sorey’s never cared all that much about romance. Perhaps it has something to do with his youth, or the fact that the people of Elysia never made it seem like a big deal. For seraphim, who live far longer than humans, finding a sole person to spend most of their lives with it tricky in itself. Most of the Elysian seraphim focus on making lasting friendships and maintaining the community they’ve built.

Sorey, having lived with them all his life, maintains the same standpoint. He already has a guardian to guide him and a large family rooting for him, not to mention the steadfast companion he has in Mikleo. Now he’s the Shepherd, he has an even larger group of companions. In all essence, there isn’t much need for him to have a romantic relationship, not when he already has a tonne of people who care about him.

(That doesn’t mean he’s never entertained the idea, of course. As a teen, reading the books Gramps pushed onto him concerning human puberty, he found it difficult to picture kissing some random stranger. He’d never picture any of the older seraphim, of course - that just feels wrong to him. The only person he could really picture anything like that with was Mikleo. They’ve never tried it, though, not even at the peak of Sorey’s curiosity. Mikleo probably doesn’t care much for romance, after all.)

Quietly, Sorey excuses himself from the table and heads into the night. A cool breeze ruffles his hair, following him from the inn to the area outside the aqueduct, which is surprisingly deserted, save for one or two stragglers. The light of the moon makes the lake glisten, reflecting the pinprick stars above him.

Maybe it’s Sorey’s curious nature cropping up, or the memory of Rose’s words from earlier coming back to him, but part of him wonders what it would be like; to stand here, by this lake on a romantic moonlit evening, to take their hand and to lean in until their lips met.

What would it feel like, he wonders? To kiss someone?

“Sorey,” a voice calls. It’s more familiar than the ruins he has imprinted into his memory since childhood. Though he doesn’t need to turn to know who the person is, he does so anyway.

“Mikleo.”

“You’re over-thinking things again, aren’t you?” As always, Mikleo sees through his smile straight away, crossing his arms in a judgemental pose. In the moonlight, his white hair glows, reflecting the light. If he didn’t already look somewhat mystical, what with being a seraph, this certainly helps.

“I was just thinking,” Sorey says after a moment’s pause. “Clearing my head.”

“Is it about what Rose said earlier?”

Sorey can’t help but flinch at Mikleo’s bluntness. He’s always been able to read him perfectly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Could have been worse,” Mikleo says with a wry smile. His expression quickly becomes serious. “Lack of experience isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

He smiles at that - of course Mikleo would think the same way he does. They were brought up together, after all.

“I know, but don’t you ever just feel curious?” Sorey looks back out to the stars. “Why do people care so much about it? Surely it must be something worth that much thought, if people think it’s strange not to have done it.”

For a long moment, they are silence. The breeze brushes past them, leaving ripples on the lake. Mikleo moves to stand at Sorey’s left side.

“Have you always wondered about it?” Mikleo says quietly. “Or is this more recent?”

Sorey looks over to Mikleo, a little surprised at the implication that this is something even Mikleo didn’t pick up about him. “I wondered a little, a few years ago. For the most part, it’s more recent.”

“You could have said something if it bugged you so much,” Mikleo says. His tone switches to a teasing one. “Unless that’s why you really tried to leave Elysia without me.”

“I wasn’t trying to leave without you!” Sorey says. “I just didn’t want to put you in danger for the sake of a human you didn’t care about at the time-”

“I know, I know.” Mikleo smiles at him. “In any case, if you’re so curious, why don’t you do it? The girls were right before, you could have your pick of anyone.”

Sorey looks at him for a long moment, his mind blank. “I’m not sure if ‘anyone’ includes the one person I’d ask to do this with me, though.”

“I’m sure whoever it is wouldn’t say no.” Mikleo says this with a pointed look towards him, one which Sorey can only assume means he understands what Sorey was trying to ask.

Still, he has to ask. “Would you…?”

Mikleo rolls his eyes, letting out a deep breath. His shoulders relax a little, and Sorey wonders if he had actually been nervous. “Do you really need to ask?”

“But it’s your first, too.”

“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose for this. It’s the same for you, right?”

Sorey nods, licking his lips nervously. “You’re sure?”

“Just do it already.”

For the first time, Sorey lets his gaze fall to Mikleo’s lips, taking in the light pink shade, the natural curve they make. His left hand finds Mikleo’s right wrist, and Mikleo links their hands. He feels Mikleo tug him forward, and takes that as his cue to stop hesitating.

He kisses Mikleo.

His first thought is that it’s okay. The kiss is only a touching of their lips, a sharing of warmth between them. Their noses and chins brush against each other, and Mikleo’s lips are soft underneath his own. The sensation is nice, but neither of them really know what they’re doing, so they end up breaking apart far too soon, before they have a chance to figure it out.

Still, they stay close when they part.

“So?” Mikleo says after a beat.

“Undecided. I need more evidence to form a proper opinion.”

“It would help is either of us knew what we were doing.”

“But then it wouldn’t be an experiment. Besides, we’ll get better at it.”

Mikleo hums, then lifts his free hand to cup Sorey’s face. There’s a flash of determination in his eyes, one which he usually sees in combination with a particularly logical puzzle. “Let me try again.”

Sorey closes his eyes in consent. A moment later, their lips are connected once more, but this time it’s more dynamic. Mikleo moves his lips as he kisses Sorey, gently tugging his lips with his own. This time, it feels even nicer, and Sorey finds himself responding to Mikleo’s kisses with his own, until their lips are moving in tandem. After a minute or two, they break apart, Sorey’s breathing a little heavier, though Mikleo’s is unaffected.

“Better?” Mikleo says.

“Can we do that again?” Sorey mumbles, already moving in again. Before their lips connect, however, Mikleo pushes his face away, just a little.

“There are still a couple of people around, you know. You look like you’re kissing thin air.”

“The people here already think I’m crazy. One or two kisses won’t do any more damage.”

Mikleo rolls his eyes, but when they kiss again, his lips are curved into a smile.

(It turns out to be far more than one or two kisses. Not that Sorey’s complaining, of course.

He’s always been up for trying new things, but after this, he’ll never say no to a new experience again, he thinks.)

Follow me @luzrof-rulay on tumblr | @luzrofrulay on twitter for more Tales Of content!

[vanuiwrites]

Family

Roseali Week 2017 Day 2 - Family

Rating: T for Trying My Best and Tired

A/N: Set after canon. They’re dating already. Also, forgive me in advance.

Like every other important conversation they have, they have it in the middle of battle.

The whole thing starts like this: the hellions they're fighting aren't particularly tough, but there are a lot of them, and the sheer numbers are almost overwhelming. She and Lailah are armatized and throwing flames everywhere, Mikleo is trying to keep everybody healed up, and Edna is shielding her and Lailah from attacks in the rear. Zaveid's somewhere in the crowd of hellions trying to figure out where they're all spawning from, but there's no way any of them can see him from where they stand. They swarmed around his body as soon as he went in, and the only indication that he's still alive are his yells and the occasional arte that blows a few of them up into the air.

It's not even like there's that much malevolence in the air. Well, okay, that's not necessarily true, but she feels like her judgment for what's a lot of malevolence has been skewed ever since fighting the Lord of Calamity himself. In any case, the hellions are themselves are definitely weak, going down with one or two hits each, but the problem is that they don't stop coming. Rose has gotten powerful since she first started her role as the Shepherd, but even she can only hit so many things at once.

Panting, she jumps back from the horde with a big swipe of her sword and wipes a bit of dried blood off her cheek. "God, it's like they're breeding in the back and popping out kids left and right," she complains, jumping back in and purifying four or five with one swing. Unfortunately, another handful replaces them immediately after and force her on the defensive. "Seriously? It's like one big nasty family over here."

"You're not far off, actually," Zaveid shouts, appearing in front of her and skidding to a halt. He swings his weapon around and eliminates another handful, his hair flying wildly around his body and revealing a few injuries on his shirtless torso.

"I'm not?" Rose asks, mouth contorting into disgust at the mental image of hellions actually breeding. "Oh that's gross."

"Zaveid!" Mikleo calls out. In a second, the wind seraph's body is encased in a flash of white light, and the shallow cuts and bruises are gone.

"Thanks, Mikky boy!" he grins back at the water seraph. Ignoring the other's protests at the nickname, he turns to Rose and Lailah's armatized form and jerks his thumb at the crowd of hellions. "Turns out the source are two hellions in the back doing some weird sort of fusion thing. I tried to get close but a whole bunch of these small fry swarmed me."

"How pleasant," she hears Edna comment.

"Well, at least we know what to do now," Rose grins. She separates from Lailah who immediately brings up a whole bunch of paper and incinerates it in the faces of a few approaching hellions. Rose herself sidesteps another group of hellions and cleaves them through cleanly in two. Nodding at her friends, she twirls her knives in her hands and bounces on the balls of her feet. "Everybody ready?"

Everybody nods back at her. Zaveid, however, also decides to shout, "We'll show 'em who the superior family is!"

Everybody collectively pauses their movement and turns to stare at him. Even the hellions also seem to cease attacking at the declaration, up until a new presence breaks into the clearing and turns all heads their way. Rose doesn't even have time to blink before a familiar spear is piercing through the thick horde of hellions, and the owner of said spear charges right into the fray, yelling, "It's over! This is my time! Light Blast!"

A good portion of the hellions vanish into nothingness as the spear cuts through them all in rapid thrusts, and once the dust from the mystic arte clears, the form of the Hyland royal crest stares Rose down, clear as day on the back of one notable presence. Her mouth falls open. "A... Alisha?!" she squawks out.

She's so shocked that she half expects the person to turn around and be somebody else, but no, those green eyes and that bright smile can only belong to one person that she knows. "Hello Rose," Alisha inclines her head, hefting her spear up. She looks strong and healthy as ever, no trace of malevolence on her person, and Rose does her best to concentrate on that fact and not on the fact that her heart is beating heavily inside her chest at the mere sight of her girlfriend.

"Whoa, don't I get a hello from the cute babe too?" Zaveid cuts in, serving as a reminder to Rose that this is not the time to be distracted.

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to be rude. Hello, Zaveid," Alisha greets. "Hello to you as well, Lailah. Mikleo too! And Edna of course. Hello to both of you."

"Alisha, what a pleasant surprise!" Lailah beams back at her, clapping her hands together. Mikleo agrees, and Edna kind of hums in agreement as well. Zaveid's about to open his mouth and say something else when Mikleo thankfully cuts him off.

"Zaveid, can we save it for later?" Mikleo sighs. He blasts an approaching hellion with a gush of water and eliminates it. "We should really take care of this first."

"Heh, alright. That's our little bro for you! Always on top of things!" The wind seraph leaps forward and starts blasting at the hellions once more. "I'll lead you right to the source, boss."

Rose pries her eyes away from Alisha long enough to nod back at him and follow his lead. "Alright, then lead the way. You coming, princess?"

"Of course!" Alisha salutes and charges right after. "This is an awful lot of hellions though. What happened?"

As Rose begins to explain the situation to the newcomer, Mikleo trails after Lailah and Edna, his expression bewildered as he goes, "Did he just call me 'little bro'?"

"Oh, boy. Here we go," Edna deadpans.

"It's quite accurate though, isn't it?" Lailah excitedly begins, even as she wields her flames with vicious force. The hellions shy away from the flames, almost as if they're terrified of the fire seraph. "Just like Zaveid said, I'd like to think we're all one big family, and you certainly seem like the responsible little brother type."

He flushes in response to that, unsure of whether or not it's a compliment. He decides to take it as one. "If I'm the little brother, then the only one here smaller than me should be the youngest, right? So Edna would be our-"

"Don't."

"Ow! Hey, swing that thing at the hellions, not me!"

Edna lowers her umbrella, stares at him, then launches herself forward into the battle with one push of the earth and sails straight into a group of hellions. "I guess this makes Zaveid the uncle that none of us wanted to have around but still shows up to every family gathering uninvited and causes a scene," she dryly says right next to the wind seraphim. She mercilessly crushes the hellions he's fighting aside and clears a pathway by putting up two walls around the group. "Hurry and go, these walls won't last."

Cackling, Zaveid darts forward with a wicked grin. "I'm glad you think of me so fondly, you little squirt! Thanks for the help!"

"Call me little squirt one more time and I will drop these walls on top of you."

"Please don't! You'll mess up my beautiful bangs," he cracks back. Dashing past the safety of the walls, he finds the two humans of the group far ahead of them, back to back, methodically cutting their way steadily forward through the black crowd. The sight is as impressive as it is scary, and he's almost tempted to just step back and let them handle the rest.

"Zaveid?" he hears, and Lailah steps next to him, her form shimmering after having just finished casting an arte. "What are you doing?"

"Why hello there, beautiful," he winks. Her face remains impassive. Oh well, Lailah's always been a tough customer, he remembers. "Just wondering which one of those two is the sister and which one is the sister in law."

Lailah makes a noise that's somewhere between a gasp of surprise and a small laugh. "Oh dear. I hope they didn't hear that."

By the way both of the humans in question stiffen up, however, it's evident that they did. Alisha's ears have even gone a little red. Instead of acknowledging the conversation though, the both of them firmly continue clearing out hellions and refuse to look back at the seraphim.

Lailah giggles a bit. "Considering they're not married yet, why not just have both of them be the young sisters of the group?"

"Ugh, then wouldn't that make the whole thing between them incest?" Edna speaks up from behind. The scandalized gasps of everybody save for Zaveid and Edna leaves a small smirk on the earth seraph's face. "What? I'm not the one who declared the both of them to be related."

Zaveid practically roars with laughter at that. Rose finally chooses this moment to stop the conversation from deteriorating any further, summoning Edna to her body with one shout of "Hephsin Yulind" and charging to where she can now see the abomination spewing out the hellions. "Alright, cut the comedy routine people. Focus and cover me, everybody!"

And that was the end of that.

Later, once everything is purified and they're all settled around a campfire, Alisha explains that she'd been investigating attacks in the area when she received a report of the Shepherd fighting what appeared to be dust clouds by herself in the forest. She'd come running after that.

Rose pulls Alisha into her lap while she tells the story, much to Alisha's embarrassment and Zaveid's hooting, but the knight doesn't make an effort to leave either. Once she finishes, Rose hugs her even closer and beckons the seraphim over, even telling Mikleo to "stop cooking for one second and come over, it's important".

"Okay, guys, listen," she starts, staring into the eyes of each seraphim seriously. "I know we usually kind of joke around like that when we fight, but today you all went a little too far."

Alisha makes a little sound of surprise at that and squirms in Rose's lap to face her. "Wait, Rose, there's really no need to admonish them for earlier. I must admit, I found the whole thing somewhat amusing as well, despite the embarrassment, so really, there's no need to..." She trails off when she sees that familiar glint of mischief in Rose's eyes, and a sense of uneasiness settles into the pit of her stomach. "...Rose, where are you going with this?"

Rose's lips curl into a wide grin, the widest Alisha has ever seen on her face before. "I just wanted to say that you're all wrong. I'm the one housing this family in my body, so I'm the head honcho of the house, got it?" she states as seriously as she can in tone, even though her facial expression cannot control the amount of amusement she currently feels. "So forget all that sister and sister in law stuff, and make sure you pay Mommy Alisha here the right amount of respect as well."

...

Despite the punch Alisha gives her immediately afterward and the weeks following where none of the seraphim will stop calling her "Daddy", Rose believes it was all worth it just to see Alisha turn a shade of tomato that she hadn't thought was possible up until that magical moment.

[eachainn]

Round and Round and Back Where You Began (Sormik Week Day 5: Pride)

Author’s Note: Title taken from Turning from Les Miserables.

Sorey twisted to put the cloth back into the dish on the table, pulling the water away from the bowl and into his hand. He held it in careful suspension, distributing it over his hand and cooling it down a fraction before placing his hand against Mikleo’s forehead. He smiled down at his human companion as Mikleo settled against him, sighing in his sleep.

Through the water on his hand he could feel the fever cooling down, Sorey smiling and resting his cheek against the top of Mikleo’s head. It had been a harrowing few days after Mikleo had fainted in the shrinechurch. He’d only heard that Mikleo wasn’t feeling well before he’d collapsed. Lailah hadn’t filled him in until Mikleo was safely tucked up in the inn.

Sorey swept his fingers under Mikleo’s bangs, trying to spread the cool water across as much of Mikleo’s forehead. According to Lailah, there was nothing else to do but keep him cool and wait for his body to adjust to the new powers that he had been given. So far Mikleo had been asleep three days, but Sorey had waited longer back when Mikleo had been young.

Mikleo had been a fragile baby. Winter chills became colds and then got worse. Spring was unbearable. And he had sat by Mikleo through it all. There had been no other choice. Mikleo was his playmate, his best friend, his one and only. Exploring wasn’t the same without him. Sorey was sure that Mikleo would be annoyed that Sorey hadn’t been looking around Ladylake while he had been out. But it wouldn’t have been the same for Mikleo to talk to. There was no one else in Ladylake that would see him, and that was a strange kind of loneliness.

Sorey leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Mikleo’s head, pausing when he felt Mikleo stir in his arms. He lifted his head slightly, smiling down at Mikleo as Mikleo opened his eyes.

The human looked blearily around the room before tipping his head up. Mikleo blinked up at him, obviously taking some time to really focus on him. When he did, Mikleo just hummed and leaned his head back on Sorey’s shoulder. “Feels nice.”

“Does it? Because you were bound and determined to keep the cloth off of your head.”

“I was? Can’t remember.”

“You flung it across the room once.”

“Must not have been right.”

“I guess not.” Sorey nuzzled into Mikleo’s hair. “Picky.”

Mikleo huffed, reaching to wrap his fingers around Sorey’s wrist. He went silent for a moment, Sorey sure that Mikleo had slipped back to sleep. Sorey was more than willing to let Mikleo rest. The power he had seen Mikleo wield was extraordinary, far beyond what a human body was used to. If this was the power of the Shepherd, Sorey was surprised that there weren’t more stories about them collapsing. Then again, it wouldn’t have been quite as awe inspiring if the Shepherds were falling down all the time.

He shifted his hold on Mikleo, settling the human more comfortably against himself. Sorey was in the middle of calculating how to roll them so they were lying in bed again when Mikleo shifted.

Mikleo knocked his leg against Sorey’s before grumbling and tugging on Sorey’s wrist. “Down.”

Sorey let go of him slightly so they could both wiggle down. He was quick to curl around Mikleo again, pulling him close. He nuzzled into the fine hairs on the back of Mikleo’s neck. He wanted to press kisses all over Mikleo’s neck and hair, but he held himself back. Mikleo still wasn’t himself, he was sluggish, half-asleep and still warm. Sorey hummed and focused his artes inward, cooling himself down.

It had an immediate effect, Mikleo making a pleased noise and leaning back into him. “You’re too good to me.”

Sorey chuckled, dropping his hand away from Mikleo’s forehead and letting the water evaporate away. “Will you remember that when you wake up?”

“Mmmm, no.”

“I thought not. So cruel to your faithful seraph companion.”

“Lailah’s my prime lord.”

“Yes, but who’s the prime lord of your heart.”

Mikleo twisted slightly to look at him, Sorey trying his best to look pitiful while he was holding back laughter. Mikleo stared at him for a moment before rolling back over. “Someone who doesn’t say things like that.”

“Mikleo….” Sorey nuzzled back into his neck. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. And after I gave you my true name.”

He felt Mikleo tense in his arms, Sorey letting go when Mikleo tapped at his arms. Sorey laid still as Mikleo turned around, frowning at how laborious it seemed to be. Maybe part of the effort that went into being able to wield the powers of purification was physical. Sorey made a note of that. He would try and get some hot water on the sorest parts of Mikleo once the fever dropped more.

He was so busy looking for problem spots that he didn’t realize that Mikleo had finished turning until he felt Mikleo’s forehead against his own, the warmth of Mikleo’s forehead startling against his own. Sorey looked up at Mikleo’s eyes which were still slightly hazy from his fever. They fluttered shut the longer that they stayed in contact with Sorey’s forehead. “Mmm, nice, Dilectuspei Munid.”

Sorey couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his true name. He shifted so he could rub their noses together. “Does this mean you love me again?”

“Obsem shu kswak xi ios aby ramupimublu knammink ok amm.”

Sorey chuckled at the way that Mikleo slurred the ancient tongue into almost one long word. “Flatterer.”

Mikleo gave him a lopsided smile before tucking himself close. When he spoke it was against Sorey’s throat. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Always.” Sorey brushed and kiss across the top of Mikleo’s head as he tangled their legs together. He pulled Mikleo closer, holding the human protectively against the cold of his body. “I’ll always be here when you wake up, Mikleo.”

Obsem shu kswak xi ios aby ramupimublu knammink ok amm – Until the stars go out and malevolence swallows us all.

Sorey’s true name is a mix of Latin and the Ancient Tongue. Roughly translates out to Sorey the Beloved Hope.

[talesofzestiria-r]

Script: Elysia, Home of the Seraphim

Part 2 - Elysia, Home of the Seraphim

Download as PDF: click

For the complete list of skits, refer to this post: Skit List

For the overview of the whole script, click here: Script

If you find any mistakes or have questions, don’t hesitate to contact me.

S = Sorey

M = Mikleo

A = Alisha

Z = Zenrus

(Arrival at Elysia)

M: I'll go report this to Gramps.

S: Guess we can't keep quiet about all this.

M: Coming by afterwards?

S: Yeah.

Hey everyone, got someone to introduce to you!

(All seraphims of the town are gathering, but A can't see them)

S: This is my family living here at the shrine.

A: Is this... Uh... Some kind of perfomance piece?

S: uh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.

A: You're an odd duck, you know that?

S: I guess?

That's my house. You go ahead and rest. I've got something to take care of.

A: May I have a look around the village?

S: Well, sure. But don't cause trouble!

A: Of course not. I'll behave as if I were in a shrine to the seraphim.

S: Yeah, exactly!

A: I'll try not to make any waves.

S: Oh man. I sure hope Mikleo's chat with Gramps went over well.

(S enters Z's house)

M: And I'll let you hear the rest from Sorey himself.

Z: I reckon I'll have to.

You idiots!

S: Hi Gramps... I'm back.

Z: How could you bring a human into our domain?!

M: Easy, Gramps. Didn't you say you'd listen to Sorey's side of the story too?

Z: That's just what I'm about to do!

You know full well the rules, Sorey. How could you break them like this?

S: I'm sorry Gramps. But I couldn't just leave her there.

Z: Her kind is sure to bring nothing but trouble to our domain!

S: But I'm „her kind“ too, you know.

Z: You were raised aloung with our kind, which nurtured in you the ability to perceive us and converse with us. Normal humans have no such capacity. You should understand that more than anyone else!

S: Well, it is true. She doesn't appear to have any resonance.

M: But Gramps, this is the first time Sorey's ever met a fellow human.

Z: Perhaps. But if she can't see or hear the same things we do, she has no business in this realm.

S & M: …

Z: I have raised both of you as my own since you were but babes, all the while doing my best to protect this land.

S: And for that I am grateful.

Z: And I did that because the time draws near when you will both serve to protect this shrine, just as all the oterhs have done. Our priority is the peace of Elysia. Any intruders, no matter how harmless, must be cast out.

S: Yes...

Z: Then it's time she left.

S: Can we at least give her time to prepare for her depature?

Z: Hmph... Just make it quick.

S: Thank you.

M: Gramps?

Z: I know, I know Mikleo.

He means well, in all things.

But that's the very reason I'm so worried for him.

(S enters his house)

M: Hey.

(M gives S the glove of the Shepherd)

M: Here's that thing I found in the ruins.

S: Oh?

Is this crest what I think it is?

M: Yup. This is the mark of the Shepherd.

S: I knew it!

The chosen one who communicates with the seraphim, controlling their incredible powers as if they were his own...

The „Shepherd“. Hah hah!

M: Sound like your kinda thing?

S: Maybe.

M: I always thought that mankind's savior would actually look a bit more imposing.

S: Be silent, seraph-beast!

M: I shall not.

S: Hmm.

M: Excavated relics aren't play-toys.

S: True.

M: She certainly is taking her time.

S: I'll see what's up.

(S goes outside and meets A)

A: Hmmm...

S: Enjoy yourself?

A: I sure did. But it's weird, I felt like I was being watched the whole time.

(stomach growling)

A: Ah...

S: Shall we eat?

A: I'm sorry. I feel like I'm going to faint!

S: Let's head to my place!

(On the way to the house)

Gosh, I hope we didn't worry him.

A: Hm?

S: Oh, uh... nothing.

Welcome in.

(Both are eating, A seems absentminding)

S: Hey.

A: Hm?

S: So then, what's your hometown like?

A: Well, I'm from the capital, Ladylake, in the Kingdom of Hyland.

S: Ladylake? Like in the legend of the Sacred Blade?

A: You've heard of it?

S: It was in the Celestial Record!

The legend says the Lady of the Lake guards the Sacred Blade, and the one who draws it becomes the Shepherd, right?

A: Yes. It was a lively and bustling town blessed with bountiful water, rich in festivals and fine drink.

S: Wait... „was“?

A: Well, it used to be.

S: Things must be hard for folks in the world below.

A: Below?

S: The land that lies beneath the mountaintops. I've never left home before.

A: You've always lived here by yourself?

Sounds to me like you're the one who's had it rough.

S: Heh heh.

Oh, let me help you get ready for your return trip tomorrow!

You need anything? Bread, rations? Stuff like that?

A: That'd be great! If you have any tools or a sleeping bag, it'd be great too.

S: Gotcha. Well then, first we'll need to do some hunting! I'll be your guide tomorrow.

A: Thank you so much for everything.

(next day, outside of the house)

M: Good morning.

S: Good mornin'.

Seraph: Come on, hurry it up, Mikleo! We ain't got time to mess around!

M: Yeah, I'll leave in a moment.

Gramps gave me all kind of things to take care of. I'm gonna be pretty swamped for a while.

S: Bummer. Well, don't you worry about me at least.

M: Sorey, Gramps only wants--

S: Yeah, I know.

Seraphim: Mikleo!

M: Maybe later.

S: Sure.

(To A) Good morning! You sleep okay?

A: Yeah, like a log! Been ages since I've done that.

S: Allright then. Shall we?

The prickleboars lurk to the left of the entry gate. It's an ideal hunting place.

A: Got it.

→ Skit/ Discovery Point: Elysalark Fledglings

S: Oh hey! There's no baby elysalarks in the nest anymore. I remember when one of 'em fell from the nest, I was gonna keep it and raise it, but Gramps wouldn't let me.

„A kept bird will never learn to fly“, he said. „Put it back.“

Guess you made it out of the nest on your own, huh?

→ Skit/ Discovery Point: The Elysian Goat

A: Such robust horns... Just like the dragons of legend.

S: Hahaha! What, like in fairy tales? You're something else.

A: Don't go near it! There's no telling how dangerous untamed beasts like those are.

S: Aw, don't worry, we're friends! Uh, well mostly. They did kick me four or five times when I was little.

A: You're... „friends“?

S: Yup! Sometimes they give me milk, and I make cheese and yogurt with everyone.

A: The mark of true friendship.

S: Yeah, it's the best!

(Seeing a monster)

S: There's a prickleboar.

A: So that's one, huh.

S: Their meat is easy to preserve when smoked, and super tasty! And the skin has all kind of uses too.

A: I almost feel sorry for it.

S: Wanna leave?

A: No. My spirit is prepared. Besides, I can't get this sort of experience back home!

S: Okay. Here we go!

S: hey, pretty smooth moves!

A: Thank you. You're rather capable yourself.

S: Okay! Guess we need a few more.

A: I don't see any around.

S: You'll find them if you look.

S: Hey, how far is it to Ladylake?

A: Let's see. I expect about to or three days.

S: Really? I had no idea it was so close!

A: But the forest at the base of the mountain is surprisingly easy to get lost in.

S: Must be the power of Gramps domain.

→ Skit: Battling the Prickleboars

A: Sorey, your sword technique is... eclectic.

Which school are you from?

S: Which school?

A: Yes. Isn't there a name signifying the style? Your swordmaster's name, perhaps.

S: Hmmmm.... I guess mine would have to be the „prickleboar school“!

A: Prickleboar school?

S: For me, it was food. For prickleboars, it was survival. Everyday, me and them, a neverending life-or-deat struggle.

A: You really are a child of nature, aren't you.

S: But it was those days that taught me how to fight.

There's no better teacher—no more exacting taskmaster—than the humble prickleboar!

A: Thus, prickleboar school.

S: You got it!

But I guess I should say „tuskmaster“.

A: Heh.

(Inside the house)

A: Sorey?

S: Oh, did I wake you? Sorry 'bout that.

A: You're sure into that book, aren't you.

S: I've read it countless times since my childhood.

A: One day, I want to explore ruins all over the world.

Everyone who's read the Celestial Record says that, and I'm no exception.

But sadly, now is not the time for some jaunt around the world.

For several years now, the world has been plunged into a nigh-incomprehensible state of chaos.

S: Chaos?

A: Mysterious illnesses, incessant storms, people bursting into flames...

There are those that say even the dead have begun to walk the earth again.

S: Woah, hang on. What are you talking about?

A: You don't believe me? Or you think this is a joke?

S: No, I...

A: The situation is beyond grave.

S: Huh?

A: The chaos has caused abnormal climate changes all over the world.

As a result, we are on the verge of endureing widespread crop death, famine, and starvation.And worst of all are the rumors of governments planning to replenish their dwindling resources through war. It mustn't come to that.

S: Can nothing be done?

A: Who knows. There's nothing to hang onto but legends.

S: Which is why you---

Nevermind. I won't ask.

I think I'm gonna just hit the hay here myself. Sleep well.

(next day)

A: Good morning.

S: Good morning! You ready to get to work? We gotta make those rations and bags from the prickleboars we hunted yesterday.

A: You got it.

S: Heh heh. Afraid it isn't exactly super fun, though!

A: Well, let me know when you're ready to start.

So, what do you need me to do?

(all things are sewn)

A: Sorry for putting you to work like this.

S: Oh, I'm pretty used to it.

A: With your help, I'll be able to leave tomorrow. Thanks so much.

S: Yeah? Great. Well, better rest up for tomorrow.

I ought to let Gramps know.

(S outside, alone)

S: Wish I'd asked her more about the world below.

(S in Z's house)

S: Hey, Gramps. She says she's leaving tomorrow.

Z: I see. We'll all be sure to see her off. After all, one must always be hospitable to one's guests.

S: Thanks!

(next day, entry of Elysia)

A: I really owe you. Thank you so much.

S: You gonna be okay by yourself?

A: I cannot cause more trouble for you than I already have.

S: I see.

(A sighs)

S: You'll be fine. Just follow that map and you'll get through the forest with no problems.

A: Oh, it's not that. I believe you.

Alisha.

S: Huh?

A: That's my name. Alisha Diphda.

S: Alisha?

A: You didn't even know who I was, and you helped me without asking anything in return.

Whereas I thought only of myself, leaving you without even a name by which to call me... As a knight, I am ashamed. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

S: I-it's okay.

A: I must confess something to you.

S: Hm?

A: I know this sounds strange, but I believe that the seraphim really do exist.

The myths and legends that are preserved in the Celestial Record must be more than mere fairy tales.

S: Yeah.

A: This crisis that has befallen our world...

I believe that only the one spoken of in the ancient legends can truly restore order.

S: The Shepherd you mean.

A: You're not going to ridicule me? Everyone back in town does.

S: Of course not.

A: You're a real saint, you know that?

The Sacred Blad Festival is soon to commence in Ladylake.

A trial will be held based on the legend of the Shepherd's sword.

A trial I think you might be interested in.

S: Me?

A: Time to go.

But please, give it some serious thought when you have the time.

S: How come?

A: The Shepherd I see in my mind when I read the legends...

I have to say, he reminds me a lot of you.

S: …

(M gives S a dagger)

S: What's this?

M: Gramps asked me to go out search the ruins and find some clues about that girl. I've been down there looking.

S: So wait, this is Alisha's?

M: This is the crest of Hyland.

I don't think this „Alisha“ is any ordinary knight.

Z: I know this is diffucult for you, but it really is for the best.

M: Gramps?

Z: Hmm... Someone has infiltrated my domain.

Blast and damnation! Hiding your presence, are you? Crafty bugger!

Everyone, be warned! There is an intruder in our realm! Find them!

They've concealed their presence, so chance are good it's a hellion! Search with extreme caution!

S: We'll go, too.

Z: Very well. If it is a hellion, quick measures must be taken. I'm counting on you.

Seraphim: I have a hunch we'll find it around the forest.

S: Good idea.

(In the ruins)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

(Lunarre (L) eats Mason (Seraphim))

S: Mason?!

L: How odd. I didn't expect to find anything but the main course here...

But now there's two more side dishes!

M: What on earth is this thing? Is this the hellion?

This is not the place for one such as you! Leave at once!

L: Hee hee hee heee!

Impudent brat.

I can smell the fear wafting off of you. Thos tender arms, trying to conceal their shivers...

(L steckt S in Brand, M löscht) (L sets S on fire, M extinguishes)

S: Urgh!

M: Sorey!

L: Mmm, aren't you a succulent treat.

M: What?!

L: Did I stutter?

I'm saying I'm going to eat you!

S: As if! I can take you! Prepare to meet your doom, hellion!

(after the fight)

M: All talk, aren't you.

S: Still haven't had enough yet?

M: Begone!

(L eats Mason completely)

S: Ah!

M: Mason!

S: He... He ate Mason!

M: Is... Is this what hellions are capable of?

(Z and all other seraphim of the town appear)

Z: Away with you, evil being!

Seraphim: Or you wanna take us all on at once?

L: Hmph. I shouldn't be snacking anyway. Not when the main course is getting away.

(L is gone)

S: Mason...

(Everyone is shocked)

Z: We can handle the rest.

M: Gramps. That fox-looking thing... Was that really a hellion?

They can talk to us?

Z: Yes. That's the form of a human who has become a hellion. Corrupted, essentially.

S: Humans can become hellions?

Z: Now, it's time you went back home and rest.

M: We should. C'mon... Let's head back.

S: Right.

(S and M are out of hearing distance)

Z: So... It begins anew.

(House of S)

S: … What on earth did it come here to do?

(Backflash)

L: How odd. I didn't expect to find anything but the main course here...

Not when the main course is getting away.

S: Wait a minute. Was it going after... her?

(Backflash end, S packs his things and wants to leave Elysia)

S: They'll probably freak out with me gone suddenly...

Sorry, everyone!

(S looks back)

Okay.

M: Oh?

S: Woah, Mikleo! Why are you here?

M: Thought I'd let you duck out of here?

S: Well...

M: I'm going too.

S: Seriously?

M: We can talk more while we travel. We don't have time.

But from what the fox man said, it's fair to assume that he's after Alisha.

S: You picked up on that too, huh?

M: Of course. Now, let's hurry.

S: Hey.

M: What? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?

S: I'm just really happy you came with me!

M: I couldn't let you navigate the world of humans alone. Not as guileless as you are.

S: I bet Gramps is mad though.

M: He was ready for it, in a way. He knew you'd leave someday.

S: Hey, I'm just stepping out for a bit, I'll see him again.

M: Gramps has always known.

That once you left, you'd live the rest of your days with humans.

(M gives S the pipe from Z)

S: Is this from Gramps?

M: We'll need money to get by in human society. He said to sell that if we're ever in a bind.

And there's a message for you as well.

„Walk the path you believe in and live your life to the fullest, and I know you will not go astray.“

That's what he said.

(S hugs the pipe)

S: Let's go!

(M and S see the outside world for the first time)

M: Incredible!

By themselves, people are such frail things. That is why, in times of calamity, they pray for a Shepherd to save them.

S: Woah! This is really it! This is our world!

The era later known as the „Age of Chaos“ gave birth to a new Shepherd. This... Is his story.

[zesty-zestiria]

An AU about. . . I don't know what if they found some fairy tail book and somehow got sucked into it and have to get back together due to the fact they somehow got separated. . . Or a Disney AU?

Admin @soymilkheaven here!  Sorry about the wait, anon, since we all sat around and discussed for a bit which fairytale would be best, and in the end …

Little Mermaid AU won out, as a mixture of both the Disney movie version and the classic Hans Christian Anderson tale.  (You’ll see, anon, I’ll even drabble the ending out for you for extra feels.)  I mean, yes, everyone’s done Merman Mikleo but, let’s face it, Part of Your World is basically Mikleo’s image song for the early-mid game, especially with how often he talks about how he’s not sure he’s experiencing the world the same way Sorey does, since he’s a Seraph and Sorey’s human, and … really, Water Seraph, Merman, the similarity is there.

So who’s who?  Here it is (behind a cut because this is *super* long):

Also warnings for the post fairy tale epilogue drabble: Major Character Death, lots of feels, and I damned near cried writing parts of it.

Mikleo is our little Merman.  Personally, I like Epileo for this mostly so I can have all the mental pictures of Merman Mikleo floating in the sea with his gorgeous hair floating all around him.  Also, I envision this scene where Prince Sorey goes out to walk on the beach at night, under a full moon, and hears a lovely voice humming, and sees Merman Mikleo sitting on a rock … brushing his hair with a fork.  But alas, despite the Obvious Misuse of a Fork, Sorey still thinks Mikleo with his gorgeous long hair and violet eyes, and pretty blue tail is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen … right up until Mikleo sees him and splashes into the water again because, well Mermen Aren’t Supposed To Be Seen.  Of course, what Prince Sorey doesn’t realize is that Mikleo surfaces right after and hides behind said rock to observe Sorey - who Mikleo thinks has the brightest green eyes he’s ever seen, better than any jewel he’s found in any shipwreck on the ocean floor, and he just adores Sorey’s smile.

Also, in keeping with the Hans Christian Anderson version of the tale, Mikleo is more of a magical sea creature granted the ability to walk and breathe air - first, painfully via his deal with Symonne, later, pain-free as part of Zenrus blessing their union.  However, this also means that Mikleo is still Not Human, and therefore has no eternal soul.  It also means he ages super slowly compared to Sorey too.  Keep this in mind for the ending/epilogue drabble at the end.

Sorey is our Prince Eric.  Obviously.  Like in the Disney animated movie canon, Mikleo saves him when he gets shipwrecked in a storm, and that’s how they finally meet face to face.  Sorey’s shocked when he catches a glimpse of his savior (as Mikleo’s hauling his fishtailed ass back into the water since he’s directly disobeying Gramps by doing this) and thinks he sees a fish tail, but he chalks it up, at first, to him seeing things as he was half-drowned at the time.  Until he sees the aforementioned Merman Mikleo humming and combing his hair in the moonlight scene, that is.

Gramps as King Triton.  He’s aware of human, and, like his game and Disney canon counterparts, he’s not a huge fan of interaction with humans.  Here, it’s not so much Because Humans Are A Source of Malevolence as much as Humans Tend to Kill Things They Don’t Understand.  Still, he does give Mikleo his blessing in the end, especially when he sees how much his grandson adores this human.

Symonne as Ursula.  I mean, as much as it would kind of make sense for Ursula to be Heldalf and all that, Ursula has an element of manipulative dealmaker that Heldalf really doesn’t strike me as having - but Symonne, as an illusionist, does.  That said, I’m more inclined to leave out the Disney version’s Adaptational Villainy and give her more of a Be Careful What You Wish For deal.

Edna as Flounder.  A really, really, really snarky Flounder, who can’t believe Meebo is totally falling head over tail fin for This Boring Human.  But alas, even she can see how sad Meebo is when Gramps forbids Mikleo to go up to the surface to Prince Sorey, and there’s Nothing Worse than Mopeyleo, so yes, she’ll go with him to see the Sea Witch Symonne.

Lailah as Sebastian.  A really really really huge Shipper On Deck Sebastian, and she’s the one who talks Gramps into relenting in the end and letting Mikleo leave the sea, with legs, so he can be happy with his one true love.  Even if both of them know that it’ll only be for Just This One Lifetime, because Gramps, while powerful, isn’t powerful enough to grant Mikleo a soul, which he lacks as a magical creature.

Dezel and Zaveid as Those Two Seagulls, or, in which soymilkheaven splits Scuttle the Seagull into two separate characters.  They both claim to be experts on humans and their culture … when they’re anything but.  Yeaaaaaaaaaah, you know someone had to have told Mikleo a fork was used to comb their hair.  Yes that might have been Zaveid, lol.

Alisha as Sorey’s best friend from a neighboring kingdom (and fellow believer of magical sea creatures).  Not sure if there is an equivalent in either the Disney animated movie (it’s been at least a decade since I’ve last seen the Little Mermaid and a few years since I last read the classic Hans Christian Anderson tale), but she is also familiar with the folklore and tales surrounding magical sea creatures … and tries to help Sorey woo Mikleo.  There are … varying degrees of success, but the fact that Sorey is trying (once he figures out that Mikleo really is a Merman-turned-human) makes Mikleo love him more.

Rose as Sorey’s genius economics advisor and bodyguard, probably another soymilkheaven original for this AU.  She’s not too familiar with the folktales and myths like Alisha is, but she also wants Sorey to be happy, and if courting/pursuing this Prince of the Sea (which Mikleo totally is) is what makes Sorey happy, then so be it.  Besides, there might even be a side benefit of ensuring safety for their country’s boats at sea out of that marriage, and that’s 100% icing on the (wedding) cake as far as Rose the Economic Advisor’s concerned.

Heldalf … may or may not appear in this fairytale?  But if he were to, he’d be some conquering warlord in a neighboring country out to take over Sorey’s country, which Sorey and Mikleo are Having None Of.

And now, the promised ending/epilogue drabble, because while pretty much everything happens as planned, there’s still that tiny detail from the classic Hans Christian Anderson tale where magical sea creatures don’t have a soul.  In the original, it meant that the Little Mermaid couldn’t go to heaven and be with her beloved.  And while Together In Death is a fun trope, I personally love a slightly different one:

When Prince Sorey died at the positively ripe old age of 95, people across the country mourned.  He had been a great king, a wise and fair leader, and had done much to ensure the prosperity of his people.  His funeral had been a grand affair - Mikleo, as Chief Consort, had seen to that.  In keeping with Sorey’s final wishes, while a token gravestone was erected in the royal family graveyard, his body was interred on a cliff overlooking the sea, the beautiful ocean that was the homeland of his one and only.

A pair of dark crimson roses flanked the gravestone, while the hill itself was positively smothered in pink carnations, red chrysanthemums, daffodils, forget-me-nots, primroses, and marigolds.  At the foot of the hill, a small grove of orange trees marked the entryway to the beloved prince’s true final resting place.

Mikleo knelt in front of that gravestone now, looking barely a day older since the day they’d met - Zenrus was powerful, yes, but even his magic had only been enough to grant Mikleo the legs and the ability to breathe air so he could live outside of the ocean, beside his beloved.  His hands brushed against the gravestone, and tears came to his eyes, unbidden.  A pair of seagulls landed beside him, eyes full of worry.

“Was this what Gramps was trying to warn me about?”

“Mikleo … man, we’re-”

“That I’d only get a short amount of time with him?”

He laid down in the grass, among the flowers, each one flourishing, despite their getting watered only by the occasional rain shower and his own tears.  A gentle wind rustled across the hills, rustling his hair and cloak.  Hair that Sorey had played with many a quiet evening in their shared chambers.  Tears continued to fall - just how many days had it been since he’d last heard Sorey’s laughter?  Seen his bright green eyes that never dulled, even as he grew into a wizened old man?  That smile that never failed to brighten his day?

He fell asleep, lying amidst the flowers in the field, each one a tiny fraction of the feelings he held for the human he loved so, so, dearly in life.

Zaveid turned as Dezel returned, Lailah perched on his back.  She looked sadly at Mikleo, at the snow-white and blue hair that was in stark contrast to the dark cloak he woe, knowing that his happiness had a great cost attached to it.  She wished, with all her heart, that something more could be done - that, even though Mikleo was a magical sea creature, he could have happiness with Sorey beyond death.

She sighed, “I wish there was something more we could do for him.  Lord Zenrus’s magic is powerful, yes, but to grant a soul, that’s …”

A bright white light came into being in front of them then, stopping to hover over the gravestone.  Mikleo stirred, and sat upright, a hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the brightness.  The being seemingly had no form, although if Lailah squinted hard enough, she thought she could make out a pair of leathery wings.

“Young prince of the seas,” the voice intoned, “I have watched you from afar for many years.  Your love for this human, and your desire to be with him always, and his reciprocation of those very feelings, has touched us all in the heavens.  To grant you a soul … that requires magics beyond even my ability, but should you wish to earn one, that, perhaps, we could arrange.”

For the first time in the months since Sorey’s passing, Lailah thought she saw the glimmer of hope and the beginnings of a smile on Mikleo’s face.  Wiping away his tears he bowed his head, as though in prayer, a single question falling from his lips.

“What would you have me do?”

Three hundred years later, Mikleo opened his eyes to find himself on a hillside, no longer a benevolent spirit of the seas, but human once more.  Examining himself, he noticed a single red string tied around his finger, and he followed it along the path, where he saw a familiar and beloved face sitting on a rock in front of a strange wheel.

“Sorey!”  Mikleo ran, arms spread wide and melting in to the firm embrace of the one he’d loved so dearly for so long.

“MIkleo!”  There was no mistaking the voice, or the way his shoulder was quickly become moist with tears.  “I missed you.”

“Me, too.”  They held each other for what seemed like an eternity, and perhaps it was.  When they finally parted, Mikleo looked up at the giant water wheel turning in the sky behind them.  “What is this place?”

“This is the Wheel of Reincarnation,” Sorey explained.  “Where you go to be reborn.  But, when I saw the red string on my finger, I’d prayed, hoped, even, that you would be on the other end. So I waited.  Waited, so we could go together.”

“Then let us go now.  Together.”

EDIT: I can’t believe I forgot to mention the meanings of the flowers on the hill for Sorey’s grave, taken from this website:

Pink Carnation – I’ll Never ForgetYou

Red Chrysanthemum – I Love You

Daffodil - Regard, Unequalled Love,You’re the Only One, The Sun is Always Shining When I’m with You

Forget-Me-Not - True Love, Memories

Marigold - Cruelty, Grief, Jealousy(Grief is the intended meaning here)

Orange Blossom - Innocence, EternalLove, Marriage and Fruitfulness (Eternal Love is the one I’d chosen it for)

Primrose - I Can’t Live without You

Dark Crimson Rose - Mourning

[cdrart]

Art by me Writing by @bloomingednae

Artist note: I think anyone who played FFXV can see where this iteration of Ladylake was inspired from lol

Day 2: Ladylake (Conflict/Trust) 

“And when, when I was off, which happened a lot, You came to me and said, ‘That’s enough’”.            -“Let’s Hurt Tonight” – One Republic

“For two, please.”

Mikleo outstretched his hand, which contained a few coins towards the cashier, who, it seemed, was finishing tidying up the cabinet area. The cashier woman was just about to take the money when she suddenly locked eyes with Mikleo and retracted her hand, head shaking furiously.

 “L-Lord Mikleo! I cannot accept such money; Lord Uno would have such a fit! Please, by all means, you and your companion can use the canal boats to your leisure.”

Mikleo chuckled and placed the few coins on the counter nonetheless. “You can tell Uno he can owe me another time; this one will be on me. May his blessing continue to watch over the people of Ladylake.”

The cashier began to become flustered as Mikleo left the money on the counter and walked passed the small booth towards the canal boats, Sorey in tow behind him. Sorey, in turn, low whistled and quirked his eyebrow at Mikleo.

“You hold nothing back, huh?”

Mikleo began boarding the boat and sat, patting the seat in front him indicating where Sorey should sit. “You’ve known me for how long and you still have to ask that?”

Shaking his head as he sat, Sorey laughed. “You got a point.”

As soon as he sat, the boat began to move forward along the canal ways, causing Sorey to jump a bit from his seat. He looked to his right to the city below him as well as the canal ways that circled around the city’s circumference. The canals circled around the main city in a spiraled manner, overlooking the city instead of riding through it. How the pillars that held up the canals filled with water was beyond Sorey; all the canals were detailed with beautiful carved designs, elegantly complimenting the make of the pillars as well as the architect below in the city. It was an astonishing sight in itself and Sorey wondered deep down if Mikleo witnessed the building of these canals.

Just as Sorey opened his mouth, Mikleo began to speak.

“Seventy five years. A couple of earth seraphs helped carve out the canal ways as well as carve the designs into each of them. Wind seraphs helped refine the edges, and the fire seraphs seared the designs to become permanent and unbreakable.”

“Uno wanted something for the humans to enjoy,” Mikleo continued. “As Lord of the Land, he felt the blessing level had risen so much, to the point that his seraphic power had increased and he felt that he should thank the humans in some way. It’s his artes that’s causing the boats to move naturally through the water right now, actually.”

He paused and looked over the city. “Lailah is extremely pleased how Ladylake has grown. New shepherds are being trained, the blessing level has increased so much, and she feels her own power growing since most of the sealing of the canal designs were by her artes. The blessing level has affected her artes to grow in power, to a certain extent.”

Sorey looked over the edge as well, seeing the city below him. It was still Ladylake but yet….not quite. Some of the architecture had begun to change and certain landmarks have been switched around; not to mention the unsettling statue of himself in the main square, depicting his travel as the Shepherd and his long slumber to put the world into a greater peace. His first impression of it was a little unsettling; seeing himself in the form of shaped rock wasn’t on his list of things to do.

But thinking back from when he was last in Ladylake, becoming the Shepherd and saving the world wasn’t on it, either.

He began to recall the events leading him up to that point. Running into Rose at the entrance, trying to find Alisha, stopping the hellions at the ceremony, and suddenly agreeing to be the Shepherd. They were all memorable memories; but the one that stuck out the most during that time was-

“Did you have any other questions, O Curious Seraph?”

The sound of Mikleo’s voice cut off his thoughts and he blinked back into reality. Mikleo’s gaze was unwavering , but inquisitive, waiting for Sorey to answer. Sorey began to laugh and shook his head. “Nah. Shouldn’t have expected less of you to give the most detailed expression without me asking.”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “You can always trust me to read your mind without you asking, you know.”

As soon as Mikleo let that last part roll off his tongue, Sorey locked eyes with Mikleo, who stared back, sudden realization dawning over him. Mikleo looked away and towards the city, crossing his legs as he did so.

It was an interesting predicament they always found themselves in. When approaching a serious topic, they both knew what was about to be spoken of without even saying a word. So when a short silence befell between the both of them, they both accepted it and did not speak until one did.

Just as Sorey leaned forward to prop his elbows on his lap in front of him, Mikleo sighed.

“But of course, you couldn’t trust me back then, huh?”

Scenes of their dispute came fresh to Sorey’s mind as if it just occurred yesterday; the determination to fight in Mikleo’s eyes; Lailah’s expression of concern and uncertainty; his own heart pace increasing with frustration and anger of trying to make Mikleo not a part of his journey.

To say the least, they were heartbreaking expressions he would never want to see on Mikleo or Lailah’s expressions ever again. Moreover Mikleo, whom he had grown up with, been friends with, been lovers with-

Sorey shook his head and sighed. “You know it wasn’t like that, Mikleo.”

Mikleo let out a small laugh. “Yeah. I know now, obviously. We were seventeen, Sorey; far too young to know anything about the world that was around us at the time.”

Sorey nodded, remembering. What bothered him the most, though, was his lack of silent trust he usually had with Mikleo during that one argument. To Mikleo, their argument happened centuries ago, lost within the sands of time which Mikleo had experienced. To Sorey, though, it felt as if it only happened within the past year, still fresh in his mind.

Mikleo glanced over at Sorey, who currently seemed to be wracked with many thoughts. He leaned over and lightly flicked Sorey on the forehead, to which he responded with a low “Ow!” as be began to rub his forehead.

“Idiot. You can always trust in me to guide you and be that someone when you need a shoulder to lean on. Besides, someone’s gotta take care of you in this state; doubting Sorey is a no-good Sorey.”

Sorey furrowed his eyebrows. “What if I just like thinking?”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Please, I’ve known you long enough that you’re just a man of action and doing; words aren’t your greatest specialty.”

To this, Sorey laughed and relief washed over Mikleo like a wave. He smiled as he watched Sorey nod and agree towards Mikleo’s statements, green eyes glimmering with life. Mikleo knew Sorey still had a ways to go with alleviating the emotions of uncertainty within him since being a Seraph required much more emotional willpower than being a human, but, Mikleo realized, Sorey won’t be alone in the process.

He’ll have Mikleo by his side, with an undeniable trust and duty on Mikleo’s part to watch for Sorey no matter what.

He smiled even more at the thought of being with Sorey to watch him grow, when he suddenly realized he was being watched. Looking towards Sorey, he noticed Sorey was merely sitting there and just watching him with a look of content in his eyes.

Mikleo began to shift uncomfortably and looked off to the side. “W-what?”

Sorey grinned. “I know I’m no good at words. So would you trust me if I did this?”

Mikleo turned his head to face Sorey and before he knew it, Sorey leaned forward, placing a light kiss on his forehead. Without moving back to his seat, Sorey began to whisper softly.

“This is an apology for our conflict all those years ago.”

He proceeded to kiss Mikleo’s left cheek. “This is a thank you for always looking out for me during our journey.”

He moved on to Mikleo’s right cheek. “This is for waiting for me throughout all these years.”

As he pulled away, the undeniable tint of red that was across Mikleo’s cheeks were evident in Sorey’s eyes, but he merely smiled at Mikleo’s reaction before finally placing his lips upon Mikleo’s. It was brief, but long enough for Sorey to know that Mikleo was finally beginning to understand his intentions. He placed his forehead against Mikleo’s, feeling the coolness of the circlet against his own forehead.

“And that,” Sorey whispered in a low tone, “was a promise to never leave your side again for as long as I live.”

The tone in Sorey’s voice was endearing and full of honesty; Mikleo felt chills run down his spine and his eyes widened at hearing Sorey’s promise. All of it was almost too good to be true, most especially since the years of waiting in Sorey’s absence were the longest. But he came to the realization that it was both of them in that moment and only them; now and until whatever may come.

Slowly, Mikleo reached forward and found Sorey’s hands, intertwining his fingers. With a smile, Mikleo closed his eyes and came closer to Sorey.

“As will I.”

Let’s say all of the things that we couldn’t before, Won’t walk away, won’t roll my eyes.

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

I don't know if you still accept drabble prompts or not, but...how about Sorey trying to keep it together but finally breaking down after his awakening, taking in Gramps' death and everything else that overloaded him during his time as Shepherd, and Mikleo comforting him the best he can?

Krissey’s Notes: ohhhhh my gosh okay I’m sorry this took so long. When I first got this prompt, the idea was so good, that I knew I wanted to take my time with it.

but this prompt also gave me the opportunity to slip in a lot of my personal headcanons about Sorey’s reaction to waking up again, particularly in a sudden new world and all that?? so really this prompt was perfect and thank you so much for giving it

WITHOUT MUCH FURTHER A DO HERE ComES THE ANGST!!

The tears don’t come until the night, when the sun passesand the world falls quiet, settling down its weary self for slumber.

Sorey can hear nothing else but the deep breathing of Mikleoat his back with the tranquility of Elysia just outside their hut door. It isa sound he has always, always known, which alone brings a strange comfort sojuxtaposed from the rest of the new world around him.

Listening, straining his ear for every inhale and exhale ofhis bedmate, he rolls onto his back. His hands fold over hisstomach. But then, eventually, his fingers find a way to his chest.

That’s where it usually begins, too. No matter how hard hepresses, he can never find a pulse.

It is usually one thing such as that, that sets off thetears. And whatever begins it, other regrets and sorrows soon follow,compounded by the heavy grief inside him. It surprises Sorey every time that he could feelso, so sad.

He wonders sometimes if this is why humans who becomeseraphim usually and mercifully don’t retain their memories.

Sometimes Sorey gets really selfishly sad about missing outon certain parts of being human that he had, quite honestly, been lookingforward to. There is a certain joy to living and growing in the way he knewthat he knows he will miss, and that he’s sorry to never get toexperience.

Sometimes Sorey thinks of Gramps, and cries anew withmemories and sorrow that he was gone. It has been years since his passing—too many to count. But what would hit him the most would be the reminder that even though Zenrus had been a father to him, he still missed thefuneral rites the seraphim of Elysia performed for him. He had slept throughthe entire ceremony, whenever they would have decided to do it. He never got tosay his proper goodbyes.

Sometimes Sorey turns over further to touch the length ofMikleo’s hair, to see if he could measure with his own fingertips just how long it had been since he saw him—justhow long it was that he had slept—and just how much time he had missed out on. Sometimes, that hurt the most:  to see with real manifest evidence how muchof his other half’s life he had slept through.

And sometimes, when the grief is heaviest, he wonders howmany times Mikleo cried while he was asleep, with pain equally so heavy andawful, that Sorey will likely never know about. How many times, while he wasasleep, was Mikleo afraid? How many times did Mikleo feel lonely?

Mikleo had to grieve Gramps’ passing alone, Sorey knew.

Sometimes, that regret alone made him sob until he couldn’tbreathe, fingers pressed over his eyes and clutching to his temple. Face hiddenin the night.

There were many times Sorey found himself sobbing silentapologies, gasping them into the air, fingers shaking, so utterly sorry for abandoning the light of his life when Mikleo had already losteverything else only moments beforethat final fight. Sometimes, Sorey felt like he had made the most horrible andselfish mistake to sleep the years away instead of find another way to achievetheir dream—together.

The grief came regularly each night in Elysia as Sorey foundit harder and harder to sleep with a body that no longer required rest. Themore hours he spent staring into the darkness with his thoughts as his onlycompany, tormented by memories of a five-hundred-years-ago yesterday that therest of the world had long forgotten about—that Mikleo might have forgotten about—he felt out of place. He felt astranger to his own home, to his own skin.

But above all, he knows he has made the gravest error ofall:  he abandoned the one person mostimportant to him, most likely when Mikleo needed him most.

“Sorey?”

Sorey turns from where he stands at the cliff’s edge, aprecipice along the southern skirts of Elysia that he remembers fondly fromtheir journey together. His loose button-up flutters in the wind as he seesMikleo walking towards him. The water seraph’s long hair is pulled back in aponytail. When the wind lifts it up, it frames his pale, moonglow face likewings, and Sorey thinks how pure of heart Mikleo must be, that he managed tosurvive all he did and still stand before him wholly untainted.

Even after five hundred years.

Sorey turns back around to view the world beneath. In thebreak of dawn, the world is quiet and crisp. The sun has only just begun tocreep over the horizon, and the sky yields to its burning hues of red and gold.

“...what are you doing out here?” Mikleo says slowly as hereaches his side.

Sorey can feel the burn of his eyes on his profile, and hedoesn’t know what to say. He blinks once and bows his head. His eyes fall uponthe way his fingers clutch at the cuffs of his blue sleeves.

Mikleo continues after a long pause. “Sorey?” And when hestill doesn’t answer, the water seraph drops his voice. Maybe he knows. “Areyou…okay?”

Sorey shakes his head.

Mikleo exhales; it’s a careful breath, but in part relieved.“Bad dream?”

Sorey shakes his head again. But then his face tightens. Hefrowns carefully, and considers whether or not his answer is true.

Mikleo waits, as patiently as ever.

And it makes Sorey suck in a sharp breath.

Like the sun shining its rays down on their sorry worldbelow, even in the world above the world, Sorey realizes that he’s been makingMikleo wait for more time than they had ever even spent together. And all atonce, he thinks how selfish he must be for doing that to him, for turningaround and when the waiting period was over, expecting Mikleo to just pick himback up and accept him back into his life like nothing had happened. Likeall those years didn’t make a difference; like things didn’t change after allthat time. Feelings didn’t change; concerns didn’t change.

Like a waterfall, follows the thought:  no more.

“I can’t believe you didn’t just—forget about me,” is the first thing he can think of to say andit’s nonsensical. Mikleo seems as surprised as him that it came from his ownmouth but now that it’s there, from it, spouts so much more.

“Y’know, I didn’t dream while I slept,” Sorey says and heshakes his head. “I closed my eyes and I opened them and then suddenly, the worldwas different.” He looks to Mikleo,and his eyes take in how much older helooks, how much taller he is. Thelength of his hair. Sorey looks away, back out over the edge. He shakes hishead, and the wind picks up his bangs.

He hates the way his breathing starts to get short.

Mikleo’s eyes go wide, and Sorey can’t conceive why.“Sorey…is…that what’s bothering you?”

Sorey just shakes his head, and chokes on his next words.“No!” he first says, and it’s stronger than he meant it to be. He can feel hisown throat go hoarse at the single word. He clenches his hands into fists. Heshakes his head again. “Yes? I—I don’t know. I just—I didn’t think it would belike this. I really didn’t.”

Mikleo stares at him. There’s a beat before he asks, just asquiet as he has been, “Didn’t think…‘it’ would be like what?”

“I didn’t think…” Sorey pauses. It’s hard to get the wordsout. But he says them anyway; Mikleo deserves closure and deserves release fromthe obligation he’s subconsciously held him to—all in the same breath. “…I didn’tthink I’d wake up to a world where I didn’t fitanymore. Y’know?”

The words go out through a tight, strangled throat. Sorey standsthere a moment more as the tension in his face gets harder and harder and hecan’t hold the tears back. He raises his arm to cover his mouth and the firstfragile ones break free.

When he next speaks, his voice is muffled, “I can’t sleepanymore.” He shakes his head, swallows and lets his arm fall to his side. Theworld starts to become hard to see. The tears distort his vision. “I know I don’thave to anymore, but…even if I could.I think I wouldn’t. I think I’m afraid to. I think if I sleep, I won’t wake upagain. Or—when I do wake up—I’ll wake up and the world’s different again—” –and you’redifferent again— “—and I’m afraid this time there won’t be anything I recognize.”

This time there willbe no one there in that uncertain future who still loves me.

Mikleo doesn’t say a word, but he listens. He stands thereon the precipice with Sorey, his expression hard to read.

“I lost…everything, Mikleo—evenwho I am—and I didn’t think thatwould happen.” He had thought so few things when he first accepted theresponsibility of being Maotelus’ vessel.

He should have thought more.

Sorey’s hands turns into a first and he sniffs. The tearscome faster now, and his voice turns shaky. “I’m not human anymore. I’m not the Shepherdanymore. I don’t know what I’m here foranymore. I don’t know why Maotelus brought me back as a seraph. I don’t knowwhy he let me keep my memories. I don’t—” –and perhaps this was the part he wasmost afraid of— “—I don’t even know if I’m still your best friend anymore, or if you still love me, because it’s been half of a millennia—and I don’t know what to d-do if—if I’m not—”

Mikleo’s hand touches his arm, and turns Sorey around toface him. “What do you mean you don’tknow if I still love you?” he asks, like it’s obvious.

And it flows out of Sorey; he could stop the tide if hetried. “I wasn’t there, Mikleo…! Forfive hundred years I slept, and I left you aloneright after Gramps died!”

He lets that sit in a hanging, awful silence, before it alltumbles forth, with a sudden fire and ringing pain that wasn’t there before.“Right after your mother died again—andthen me—” It’s a hard sob that breaks free. “I don’t know how you don’t hate me. I wonder if you do. I wonderwhy you don’t. I tossed the responsibility of the world on your shoulders when I decided to sleep, and I left you alone for—for forever, and I’m sorry! Iwasn’t there for you! I missed so much of your life—I missed countless birthdays—Imissed Rose and Alisha dying—I missed—!”

His throat gets too tight to talk, and he barely gets out,“I missed everything! I’m so sorry!”before he shakes too hard he can’t say another word.

Sorey sobs.

It’s unlike any other cry he can remember in his human life.It feels supremely inhuman, the wayhe feels like he’s crying from the depths of his soul and on out. He can’tremember crying this hard before, at a loss so deep and so grave and so sweeping.

But Mikleo doesn’t remove his hand from Sorey’s arm.

Instead, he pulls him closer. He wraps his arms aroundSorey.

And for the first time since waking up in this new andunfamiliar world, Sorey feels something like home.

“…I wasn’t alone, you know,” Mikleo whispers to him.

And Sorey clings to Mikleo, his arms wrapped tight aroundhis one anchor. He can’t form the words to respond back, but Mikleo continueson anyway, as if not expecting him to.

“When Gramps died? After the final fight?” He shakes hishead and Sorey can feel the soft movement of his chin against his shoulder. “Youdon’t have to feel like you abandoned me, because you didn’t, Sorey. Because of you and because of our journey together,I had friends who helped me afterwards to grieve him….and to grieve you. Rose, Alisha, Lailah, Zaveid—even Edna.”There’s a small rumble of a laugh in Mikleo’s chest. It’s so familiar, Soreyfeels more tears bubble to the surface. “They were there for me. And I wouldn’thave had them if it weren’t for you.”

Sorey shakes his head, but Mikleo doesn’t let him pull away.He tightens his hold, and he said again, “Yes.If you can believe it, I am gratefulfor you, and I don’t resent yourdecision, Sorey.”

He holds on for a moment longer, a beat of silence driftingbetween them, before he admits quietly, “I mean, yes, I was sad to not haveyou. Yes, I missed you.” Missed you so much that words cannot spanthe depths of that ache. “But I would never hold or have held that againstyou. Not in five hundred years. Not even in a million years.”

Sorey can feel Mikleo take his next breath, and he holds onto hear it. To feel it against his own chest. “You going to sleep was the onlyway to achieve what we’ve been dreaming about for all our lives up until thatpoint. And you know, maybe the reason you didn’t dream in all that time andmaybe the reason it’s so hard to sleep right now, Sorey, isn’t because you’reafraid to wake up. Maybe it’s because now, you have nothing to dream for.”

Mikleo loosens his hold and pulls back. Sorey looks up,lifting his head and tear-stained cheeks.

And Mikleo’s gentle smile that greets him is like the sun.

“…gosh, there’s so much more I want to tell you,” Mikleoconfesses to him, and he raises his hands from Sorey’s back to his face, tocradle the lines of his jaw with his own palms. His thumbs wipe away Sorey’stears.

Sorey sniffs. He raises a hand to cover one of Mikleo’s own,holding it to his cheek. Hope kindles in his chest at those words, a soft andlight-winged burn. Something to dream for, huh? “…y-yeah…?”

Mikleo’s smile widens. “Yeah,” he breathes back. “After all,it’s…all I’ve been dreaming about forthe past five hundred years. Talking to you again. Sharing space with youagain. Having the other half of me back.”

Sorey sucks in a sharp breath at those words. “…yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sorey swallows hard. Despite all that Mikleo has said so far, despite all the promise of more that Mikleo wants to share with him too, the Shepherd-turned-seraph finds himself asking, “You—you mean still—”

“—Sorey.” And the single, familiar, chiding call of his namemeans so much more than any other word could. “I never stopped.”

A shuddering, shaky breath. A wet, incredulous laugh.

Sorey brings his forehead to meet Mikleo’s own, the risensun warm on their faces and their backs. And ironically, it’s him who feels released. It’s Sorey whofeels finally free of guilt and worry and shame.

“Not even in five hundred years?” he asks, breathless withthe impossibility of it.

But Mikleo always could do the impossible. And he alwaysdid.

“Not even in a million,” Mikleo promises.

The kiss they share tastes of home.

[tmariea]

Hearts and Lace

Summary:  Mikleo forgot to get Sorey something for Valentine's Day. Luckily, Rose and Zaveid have a perfect idea.

Written because it’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m jumping on the bandwagon.  And, damn, this was a ride. I slammed out nearly 2k words in two hours for this thing.

Inspired in part by a lovely Valentine's Day pic by @retrsh​, and my cousin - who continues to be a terrible (and wonderful) influence.

Read on AO3

“So.”

Mikleo looked up from where he was reading a book in the common room of the inn where they had stopped for some rest.  Rose had situated herself in a chair across from him, and her face was nothing if not intent.  “What are you planning to do for Sorey for Valentine’s Day?”

“Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, human holiday, mostly for lovers.  Usually, it’s a time to profess your love by giving flowers, or chocolate, or… other things.”  She waggled her eyebrows at this, which Mikleo elected to ignore.

“I know what the holiday is.  I just didn’t know it was coming up.  The seraphim in Elysia didn’t celebrate, and before this year, I didn’t have much of a reason to either.”

“Not just soon, Mikky my boy,” said Zaveid, who had waltzed into the conversation without a care, and leaned himself on the back of Rose��s chair.  “Today.”

“Do you really not have anything?”

Mikleo sighed and brought his hand to his face.  “I told you, I wasn’t keeping track of some human holiday.  I hardly think Sorey will even notice, as wrapped up as he is with everything else going on.”  He said that, but he couldn’t be totally sure.  On the one hand, Sorey had a talent for being scatterbrained about certain things.  On the other hand, he was the world’s worst sappy romantic.  He would go crazy for something like this.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you all sorted,” Zaveid drawled.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”  Any idea Zaveid proposed was bound to be disastrous.

“Are you sure you don’t even want to hear the idea?  It was partially mine, too.”

That was more comforting.  Rose could be boisterous, but usually she wasn’t too out of control.  Unlike a certain wind seraph who made it his life’s goal to spy on women’s saunas.   “I will listen.  That’s all.”

“Great!”  Rose bounced up out of her chair and grabbed Mikleo’s hand, dragging him up as well.  The book he was reading toppled from the arm to the seat and sat there looking forlorn, his spot undoubtedly lost.  “I’ve got a Sparrowfeathers caravan coming in to town now with just the thing.”

Even if he had wanted to escape, it would not have been an option; Rose had him gripped too tightly for that as she dragged him down the street.  Zaveid trailed behind the two of them in his typical leisurely, sauntering way.  It didn’t take long to reach the market square, where the three of them found themselves at the Sparrowfeather’s cart parked off to the side.  Rose waved at the driver, and then led them around the back where other crew members worked at unloading boxes and satchels.

“Hey Felice,” Rose called to the girl, who was overseeing the process with an inventory sheet in hand.  “Do you know if that lace came in with this shipment?”

She consulted her list, and then pointed to a box which was still stacked on the left in the cart.  “Mind me asking what you plan to use it for, Boss?” She asked, as Rose rummaged in the box in question.

Rose emerged a moment later with a triumphant ‘Aha!’ and a large spool of undyed lace ribbon in hand.  She turned back to Felice with a smile, waving her prize in the air.  “Just helping a friend with a Valentine’s Day present.”

Felice covered her mouth with a hand as she giggled.  “It must be for someone very special, then.”

“Oh yeah, our dearest Shepherd is going to love it.”

“I didn’t know the Shepherd had someone special.”

“You don’t know the half of it.  Count yourself lucky,” Rose said, while Zaveid roared with laughter behind them.  It was good that humans couldn’t hear or see them; he would certainly be cause for alarm.  She saluted Felice and thanked her for her hard work before turning back toward the inn.

“Can you please refrain from spreading our personal business all over the country?” Mikleo asked with a sigh.

“Sure,” Rose replied at a whiplash pace.  “As soon as you stop making your personal business audible to everyone in the party.”

He turned red and sputtered a bit, and Zaveid was laughing again.  He raised a hand to his forehead.  He was beginning to regret taking Rose up on her offer.  If the flavor of the afternoon was anything to go by, this present was going to be ridiculous, embarrassing, or both.  “What, dare I ask, am I supposed to do with that ribbon?” he asked, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice.

Rose passed over the spool of ribbon, which Mikleo took with the air of someone handling an object which was likely to explode.  “You’re Sorey’s present,” she informed him.  “So once we get back to the inn, go to the room, and wrap yourself up.”

Honestly, that didn’t sound as awful as it could have been.  He regarded the ribbon for a moment and contemplated how that would even work.  “Why would I give myself to him?  I already have.  And what am I supposed to do?  Stick a bow on my head?”

“No, you wear it, in strategic places.”  Rose accompanied this statement with another eyebrow waggle.

He revised the image in his head, and decided it looked just as strange.  He didn’t quite see what was so appealing about tossing some strands of ribbon over himself.  “I’m sure that’s just going to look strange with my clothes.”

“Oh boy,” Zaveid said, “And I thought Sheps was the choir-boy pure one.”

“Mikleo.  You’re not going to be wearing any clothes,” Rose informed him, and suddenly a lot about this conversation started to click.

Mikleo’s cheeks were starting to get hot, and he thanked the Lords that very few people could see him in his distress.  “Alright, thanks.  I’ve listened, now I’ve decided that I’m still going to pass.”

“Oh come on, it could be fun,” Zavied suggested with his characteristic leer.

“Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

“I don’t know, I could got get him some chocolate from the market or something.”

“And how do you propose you’ll do that?  I’m not going to be your middle man on this one.  I already gave you a good idea, so it’s not my fault if you don’t take me up on it.”  Rose dropped her hands on her hips, posture reinforcing the note in her tone of voice that said this was final.

Mikleo groaned.  Maybe he should just skip the whole holiday after all.  But the likelihood that Sorey would show up with a bouquet of flowers or some fancy dessert was far too good to risk it.  “Fine.  But if you try to peek – that counts for the wind too, Zaveid – or let any of the others within a league of the inn, I swear I will douse you in water in your sleep every night.”

“Damn, Mikleo, I’m just glad you’re one of the good guys,” Rose said, but she held up her hands in concession.  “I will get everyone to clear out for the whole afternoon.  And as an added bonus, we’ll even find our dear Shepherd and send him your way quickly.”

They parted ways on the street before the inn, Rose and Zaveid to go on a Sorey hunt, and Mikleo to prepare.  He wondered if he would ever stop blushing, or if he was just resigned to be red in the face for the next week or more.  And yet, he trudged his way up the stairs and to their room, the edges of the spool of ribbon digging into his hand as he gripped it.

Once in the room, he stripped quickly so as to not delay the inevitable, and folded them onto the chair in the corner.  Then he sat on the bed and inspected the ribbon.  It wasn’t even as wide as his finger was long, and being lace, it was riddled with holes.  This wasn’t going to cover a single thing.  A quick glance down at his own chest told Mikleo that his blush had worked its way down to there, and didn’t seem like it was going anywhere soon.

Next came deep breath, and a hearty dose of determination.  This was for Sorey, a way to show his love and appreciation, albeit in a rather physical way.  Well, presents need a bow, he thought, going back to his original idea.  But maybe his head wasn’t the best place.  Instead he brought the loose end around his neck and tied a large bow there, before beginning to unwind the spool about his torso.  Ridiculous, all of it.  How did he let himself get talked into something like this?

And yet, his fingers were warm against the chill of the room and the lace soft and silky as he wrapped himself up.  Sorey wouldn’t have any idea he was here, waiting for him like this.  What would his face look like?  What would he say?  How would he touch him afterward?  Maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought.

Mikleo bit his lip against the groan that threatened as he let the lace gently drape across his groin, still not doing a single thing to adequately cover his anatomy, and then pooled it over his legs.  He set aside the now-empty spool and settled back to wait.  How long would it take for Rose and Zaveid to find Sorey?  Amidst the fantasies swirling about his brain, it didn’t seem long at all before he heard the key in the lock.

“Hey Mikleo,” Sorey said casually, as he opened the door, “Rose said you wanted to see me about… something.”  His voice died in his throat as he made it into the room and took in the sight before him.  The bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand drooped to his side, as his mouth and eyes fell wide.

Mikleo licked his lips against the dryness in his mouth, and did not miss the way Sorey’s breath caught as he did.  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, hoping that the cockiness he tried to put into his voice actually made it.

Sorey swallowed.  “Lords,” he said, his voice unstable, and then swallowed again.  The flush on his cheeks was rapidly spreading across to his ears and down past the collar of his Shepherd’s cloak.

“I’m your present this year,” Mikleo said, letting his fingers trail across the soft length of ribbon over his thighs.  “What do you think?”

Sorey set aside the bouquet of flowers on the desk in the room, with an air of someone who barely realized what he was doing.  He made his way toward the bed, stopping just close enough to touch.  “Does this mean I get to unwrap you?” He asked, voice dropping low as one hand reached out to brush along the bow.

Mikleo swallowed, feeling the tips of Sorey’s fingers just barely graze his skin as his throat moved.  Oh, maybe this had been a good idea after all.  “Well, what else are you supposed to do with a present?”

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