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[PP | F13] Regret & Reservation


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The sickening sound of the ground's sludgy surface suctioning to Elora's shoes made the player's stomach swirl with a nervous nausea. It had taken all morning for her to muster the courage to confront the worries that had been gnawing at her conscience for days...perhaps weeks even... It had all been a blur, from the moment that she awoke in the tavern, to now, as she trudged through the mire that would lead her to Angel's Point. What am I even doing?, she found herself reconsidering, He hasn't even tried to come see me. A sharp sting of regret pierced her chest in an instant. He tried to reach out to you, and you didn't even read the message. 

I was - I am so afraid...I didn't want him to see me after...after everything that happened...after how perfect it had been before...It was easier to pretend that that was all just a fling, or some kind of dream. I didn't want to reopen the wound. Either way...It's obvious that things are over...I fucked it up, and ran away agai -- Suddenly, Elora's forward foot slid out from beneath her, falling inward as mud rose to swallow her leg from ankle to calf. "AGGH! L-LET GO!", she shrieked in panic. Her fists reflexively slammed down and into its congealed surface, causing a spray to soak her face with filth. "I-It's ok, I'm not going under. It's ok -- I'm fine -- It's ok", she fearfully repeated the mantra as a familiar coldness began to consume her. Frantically, she lodged her gloved fingers into the ground, clawing and upheaving large clumps of silt until she could finally yank her leg free from its hold. It's not, she admitted as her thoughts were drown out by an ocean of tears.

 

Tag: @Freyd

Spoiler

Elora
Level: 31
Paragon Level: 3
HP: 660/660
EN: 100/100

Stats:
Damage: 23
Mitigation: 30
Accuracy: 2
Battle Healing: 33
Loot Dice: 1

Equipped Gear:

Skills:
2HAS R5
Light Armor R5
Battle Healing R5
Charge
Energist
Searching R1

Active Mods:
Stamina
Ferocity
Resolve
Meticulous

Inactive Mods:

Active Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:
Concentration

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild:

Wedding Ring:

 

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A muscled, heavily callused hand grabbed Elora from behind, covering her mouth and whipped the rest of her harshly down into the same muck that had suctioned her foot into the ground.  What first resembled one of the shambling diseased humanoids that plague the thirteenth floor surprised her when it spoke.  Or, at least, tried to through a set of pearly clenched teeth and Scottish brogue so thick that most could barely understand a word she was saying.

"Urr ye trying tae bring doon hauf th' flair oan yersel'.  Shut yer gob 'n' wifie up, or ye'r aff tae git us baith murdurred.  Ye'r that lassie Freyd's ne'er gaun oan aboot, bit ceaselessly seems tae dwell upon, aren't ye?  Edwina, or somesuch, wannit?"  A shift in the ever-present miasmic fog that blankets every inch of the floor revealed tightly bound blonde braids.  The rest of the short, stocky figures form was clad in heavy armor that made her look like a crazed Viking on a flustering laundry day.  "Stoap glaring 'n' juist nod!  Ah will git yer shank oot, if ye kin keep yer banshee's wail silent fur a minute."

Raising a bushy eyebrow until Elora confirmed with a jostle of her head, Quip slowly released her grip and then turned her attention to the fastened boot.  With unexpected tenderness, following her abrupt arrival, she eased Elora's foot from its wear.  Then, switching back into furious rage mode, she reefed on the boot with all her might, causing her arms to bulged impressively until a lengthy, sickening *schlorp*  sent it flying upward with unexpected force.  It came crashing back down right next to Elora's head, splattering both of them with muck.

Suppressing a slightly maniacal chuckle, the stout warrior-woman held out her hand to help Elora back to her feet.

"A'm Quip.  Nice tae mak yer acquaintance.  Noo, let's git th' hell oot o' 'ere afore something tries tae sloch us.  Ye kin fill me in aboot Freyd 'n' a' his nonsense while we donder. Yea?"

@Elora

Spoiler

Quip
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 4
Mitigation: 6
Thorns: 9


Equipped Gear:
Vanity Curved Sword
T1 Rare Heavy Armor (MIT 1, THORNS 1)

Skills:
1hCS R1

Active Mods: none
Inactive Mods: none
Active Extra Skills: none
Inactive Extra Skills: none

Battle Ready Inventory:
Starter Healing Potions 9+50 HP]*3


Housing Buffs: n/a
Guild Hall Buffs: n/a
Scents of the Wild: n/a
Wedding Ring: n/a

 

Edited by Quip
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  • 2 weeks later...

It's -- Oh, it's one of the Australians, Freyd's friend who works at the shop, decided Elora as soon as the whirlwind of shock subsided enough for her gather her bearings. "Yergh --", she started unsuccessfully through the filter of a hushing hand.

"Edwina?!", snapped Elora as soon as the woman granted reprieve. She winced upon realizing that she'd neglected to heed to the aforementioned agreement. Sighing, she continued with a stifled whisper,  "Come on, at least I had the curtesy to remember your name. We can skip the introductions..." 

"Ye kin fill me in aboot Freyd 'n' a' his nonsense while we donder. Yea?

Elora hesitated, then slowly worked to return her foot into the hold of the mud-clotted shoe. "Thank you for helping me, but I'm really not sure that I should even be out here...I came to check on Freyd, but -- well, I don't know..." The shaken player rose to her feet, fashioning her spear into its holster on her back, "Does he even want to see me...?" She felt deflated, and even a little ashamed to be asking the question out loud, especially to Quip. Either she was being ridiculously over-pessimistic again, or she was going to receive an answer she'd rather not accept. Whatever the reason, she hated that she had laid out her fears, just like that. "Sorry --", she blurted, then picked a direction to begin walking towards, "I don't know why I'm feeling like this. I think I just feel some sense of urgency. I would normally be ok with just letting things happen as they should, but...." Her mind began to flood with images of the end, a trance that threatened to take hold of her all to frequently. "There's just not enough time to not figure things out. It could all disappear so quickly."

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A surprisingly kind and sympathetic smile swept across Quip's features, softening with the appearance of wrinkles around her eyes and creases at the edges of her lips.  She'd know the sort of overwhelming emotions that seemed to be plaguing this girl.  She's watched her sister die and lost herself to the grief.  That sort of thing took its toll, and for all her brutish, over-the-top behavious, Quip had a kind soul.

"There, thare, Eddie," she said, patting the taller girl gently on the shoulder.   "Freyd's bin a richt, mirk fankle tae, sin he returned.  Wilnae blether aboot it wi' a'body, save mibbie ye. Ah dinnae think he kens whit's richt or wrong in thae situations, 'n' he hasn't pushed fur he didnae wantae hurt you."    Quip rolled her vibrant blue eyes and helped Elora along by the forearm.  "You twa juist need tae learn tae blether tae ilk ither, 'n' nae worry sae muckle aboot th' rest o' th' world fur awhile." 

Wiping her muck-covered hands on her armor, Quip led them both back to Freyd Edges, nestled in the ruins of an ancient monastery to a race of people who had nearly faded from memory on the thirteenth floor.

"DINGO!"  She barked, completely without warning and with full drill-sergeant's authority. A lanky form fell out of a recently repaired hammock, crashing down into a pile of unidentifiable junk, like so many others strewn all over Freyd's shop.

"Whuh?  Who?!"

"Where th' hell is Freyd?  Th' baw juggler haes company!"    Quip grinned and beamed a smile at her younger brother, winking towards Elora with her eyes.   "Eddie's 'ere tae set th' brassic laddie straecht, 'n' hopefully fin' some comfort fur herself.  Noo, whaur is th' lout?" 

"He's... uh..."  Dingo blinked a few times, still trying to wake up and possibly mildly concussed.  “He’s down by the pond, past the slime farm, I think?”   The scrawny boy rubbed his head in a way that might also have been meant as a welcome to the newcomer.  It was tough to tell.

***

Translations

Spoiler

"There, there, Eddie.  Freyd's been a right, dark mess too, since he returned.  Won't talk about it with anyone, save maybe you.  I don't think he knows what's right or wrong in these situations, and he hasn't pushed because he didn't want to hurt you. You two just need to learn to talk to each other, and not worry so much about the rest of the world for awhile."

***

"Where the hell is Freyd?  The moron has company!  Eddie's here to set the poor lad straight, and hopefully find some comfort for herself.  Now, where is the lout?"

 

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Spoiler

Mega-slime farm (Approach).jpg

The trail down to the pond passed through a field of cherry trees that seemed to be in a perpetual state of blossom.  Fog clung thick to the air, dampening hair and sticking clothes to skin in the same manner as a September morning, after a night of rain.  Much of the floor outside of Angel's Point carried the same feel, but the added touch of pink set against ancient white limestone gave this place a more sublime and welcoming feel.  Quip stopped abruptly after the first flight of stairs down into the bowl. 

"This is the lenth o' yi''ll need me. Follow th' path.  He's likelie planning some sort o' invasion o' th' neist flair, or scheming oan howfur tae unbalance th' entire gam economy, or somesuch.  Ye ken howfur he is, glaikit dunce.  Guid luck, Eddie.   She chuckled, ending in a cackle that gave question to her sanity, but Quip was simply good natured.  She turned and patted Elora heavily on the shoulder.  Despite her short stature, the woman was surprisingly brawny and stout.  The semblance of a dwarf leaving an elven friend at a crossroads immediately came to mind.

Spoiler

Mega-slime farm.jpg

It didn't take more than twenty steps to find the edge of the pond, which was little more than a natural bowl that looked to have once been a memorial of some kind, now sunken and collecting water from the fog and rains.  Bits of worn, oddly-shaped stone stuck up out of the ground at irregular spacing.  A series of monuments formed a reasonably wide path that could be used to traverse the deeper areas towards a small island at the centre, where a single willow tree stood.  Its branches mirrored the mood the only occupant on the island, whose trademark cowl rested low upon his shoulders.  Freyd sat with his back to the trunk, facing away from the path, uncharacteristically oblivious to the route of approach.  He hadn't even heard Elora cross the stones.  His attention seemed focused entirely on the little red bobber floating languidly in the still waters, or perhaps watching the occasional tiny ripples ride a wisp of a breeze across its surface.  The rod swayed casually in his hands, and she soon understood why.

Freyd was asleep.

***

Translation: 

Spoiler

"This is as far as you need me.  Follow the path.  He's probably planning some sort of invasion of the next floor, or scheming on how to unbalance the entire game economy, or somesuch.  You know how he is, stupid dunce.  Good luck, Eddie.

***

Freyd | HP: 1000/1000 | EN: 134/134 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 78 | ACC: 5 | BH: 55 | LD: 5 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8

Full stats:

Spoiler

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadow
Level: 31
Paragon Level: 89
HP: 1000/1000
EN: 134/134

Stats:
Damage: 24
Mitigation: 78
Accuracy: 5
Battle Healing: 55
Loot Dice: 5
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
PARA IMMUNE
REC: 8

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride (T4 MA | Holy 2 | Fallen 2)
Armor: Fallen Angel Garb (T4 LA | Mit 2 | Rec 2)
Misc: The Shadowed Rose (T3 Trinket - ACC 3 | Para Imm)

Custom Skill:


Skills:
Martial Arts R5
Battle Healing R5
Light Armor R5
Searching R4
Charge
Energist
Quick Change

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Meticulous
Untraceable

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Ferocity
Precision
Resolve
Reveal
Stamina

Active Extra Skills:
Survival
Meditation
Forgotten King’s Authority
Hiding R2

Inactive Extra Skills:
Disguise
Brawler
Photosynthesize

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+30*T HP) x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+30*T HP) x7
Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable) x1
Rhino's Horn (Reusable) x1
Hmr.Pk: The Thing Behind All Lies (T4 Demonic WH, AA, Blight, Static, Para.Ven (Off)) x1

Housing Buffs:
Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)
Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Item Stash: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
Delicious: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Skylight (Searching): +1 Rank to the Searching skill.
Angler: +1 material gained when fishing
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [0/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor [Potted Tanabata Bamboo Tree]: This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild:
Kumatetsu Statue: +1 Base Damage for a thread

Wedding Ring:

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Ye ken howfur he is, glaikit dunce.  Guid luck, Eddie."

"Thanks, Quip", she smiled, trailing off with a sigh as she parted ways with the woman and started to slink down the series of stone steps. They somehow seemed less slippery than before, or at least, in comparison to the sludge she had just finished trying to wade through. It was a nice change of pace, though Elora couldn't help but wish she'd met more resistance along the way -- an occurrence that could have convinced her to turn back. Despite her waning spirit, she arrived at the shores of the silent pond. Beside it rested a recognizable silhouette. Freyd..., she meant to speak, but somehow thought instead. He looked so...serene... Should I disturb him?, she wondered worriedly, It seems so...I don't know what to say... For a moment, this was all that she wanted, to bask in a purgatory of uncertainty. Here, there were no awkward reconnections or reminitions of their time before the storm which seemed livelier by comparison. It was just him. Just her.

She opened up her user interface, unequipping then reequipping the adventuring outfit she'd always worn. Somehow, It didn't seem right for her anymore. Maybe I'm not right for it, the thought crossed her mind. Elora shook her head, swiftly motioning to equip another accessory from her inventory. A dim ray of opal light rippled from her head, indicating that the red rose hairclip from Tanabata had braided and pinned back a section of her hair. Hopefully this helps, she huffed quietly before taking a seat beside her...

"Freyd...", she muttered with a gentle, but purposeful prod of the elbow into his side.

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A red sliver opened where once his eyes were closed.  Spinning away from her in a sudden flurry, Freyd wheeled and stood in a defensive stance, failing to realize that he was threatening to do battle while wielding a fishing rod.  The bobber, reeled by the sudden motion, bopped him in the side of the head, snaring its hook upon his cowl.  

"What the...?"

Recognition dawned in those same eyes as they settled upon the figure before them in the mists.

"El... Elora?"  Emotion flooded through the words even as his heart slammed hard, twice, against the inside of his chest.  A blink followed, then another, before his drowsy mind could process that this moment was even real.  Cardinal had played so many tricks that doubt had become ingrained. 

"I..."  Words failed as the oddly-deadly implement in his grasp clattered to the ground, the line twisting and snaring itself all around him.  Freyd didn't even notice.  It felt as if he was two inches tall, sitting at some control panel inside his own head, watching this moment from behind his own eyes.  Feelings surged into his throat all at once, swelling it shut.  He didn't know how to deal with them, except to frown, wondering what was going on.

Why did she not answer me sooner?

The question had been on his mind for weeks, festering in silence.  In this, he was too innocent to fathom any meaning.  It was too far out of his experience; too raw.  

"You're alive!"  A wave threatened to overwhelm him, again.  His shoulders sank, releasing bound up tension that he couldn't even acknowledge.  Doubts had been piling up within, shunted into some mental pocket for later analysis.  He'd buried himself with work, waiting for her to be ready, and hoping that his hopes to be reunited with her could still be real.  The strain had grown, threatening to split him in half, though he could never give voice to what it was.  Something just felt desperately wrong.  Instead, his knees gave out and he slumped awkwardly to sit upon his legs.  Pain welled up in his eyes, along with fears that he couldn't even voice.  The Whisper succumbed to the thing which, in all other respects, held no power over him.

"I thought you were..."

His throat swelled shut once more.

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  ♪  Islands Under Eyelids  ♪  

Elora instinctually threw her arms up and into a defensive maneuver, suddenly sensing that Freyd might unwillingly strike her out of sheer surprise. A stupefied inquiry indicated that he'd at least partially been able to process that she was standing before him, and that an attack would no longer be warranted. "El... Elora?", she heard him speak her name and began to lower her guard.

"I...", they both sputtered as crimson eyes met with irises flooded by a cobalt ocean. "You're alive!", he shouted. She bit her lip and turned away. 

"I'm sorry --", she managed to choke out as a stinging dryness clinched at her throat and threatened to silence her. Suffocating, another wave of panic surged beneath her skin, causing its hairs to stand on end. Elora shivered as her senses desperately began to sporadically search for an escape. "I -- I shouldn't be here!", she proclaimed as definitively she she could through the filter of a shaking voice, "I was -- I didn't survive -- this is all wrong!" A gloved hand jerked up, wiping across eyelids before snarling, then ripping through the roots of her characteristically uncombed hair. Shallow, heaving breaths coursed through her chest as memories of the storm lapsed against her conscience. Not again, she pleaded with herself and with whatever cruel creator was still toying with them, Not now. 

Screams. Ceaseless cold. An eternal night.

A familiar numbness began to wash over and petrify her trembling body. I cannot run. I cannot run, Elora repeated frightfully. Her knees buckled beneath her, sending her legs slamming into the cool and congealed surface of the swamp's saturated moss. She clutched her arm and dug in with her fingernails, frantically desiring to console herself, to pry herself out of this waking nightmare.

"I am so afraid...", she admitted, small and defeated.

Edited by Elora
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When had he moved?

For one so aware of every miniscule action, so precise and methodical in his actions, so acutely aware of self, it seemed implausible to have missed his own motion.  Arms wrapped tenderly about her shoulders, Freyd's left arm cradled her back while his right pressed against the back of her head to bury her sadness into nook at his neck.  His voice, still absent, could offer no solace.  His eyes, pressed shut, could convey nothing.  Only the steady pace of his heart and pulse, the slow rise and fall of his breathing against her deeper, desperate gasps, could offer purchase against drowning.

Ironic that the steady drops of rain - clear, refreshing rain - should wash away the stupor and fear between them.  A deep breath carried with it wafting scents of dust and cherry blossom, and her.

"You're here.  You're safe."  His cheek pressed against her ear, the tip tickling him slightly and calling the slightest of smiles to his lips.  "You don't need to be afraid anymore."

Will you promise to slay all the monsters?

Every one of them, if I could.  Starting with you, Montjoy.

The shadow gave an inverse grin, his mouth transparent against a form of shadow, and nodded his approval.

"Tell me," he asked, gently caressing her hair without knowing why.  "Speak what happened and let it out.  It can't stay inside you."

He knew that truth well.  How many years had he buried his own burden?  How deep had he suppressed his own demons.  Confronting them had staved off madness, as much as it had snatched his own soul from the very edge of oblivion.  Elora's voice carried the same tone of doom and dread.  She helped him find himself - a boy lost in a prison of cold, dark machine-like logic.  How could he not offer to help her face her fears, in exchange?

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  • 2 weeks later...

"You're here. You're safe." 

A sharp inhale wavered before Elora broke into dissonant sobbing. She collapsed into him, clutching the folds of his cowl between the knuckles of her trembling fingers. Shoulders fell and rose sporadically as uneven breaths coursed through her diaphragm, and she succumbed to despair. "I - I - I -- was s-so scared", choked Elora as best she could, "T-there was -- so many people d-died -- I didn't know what to do - I t-tried to help, but then I -- I was pulled under, a-and --" Burying her head face into Freyd's shoulder, she struggled to snuff out the sounds of the screams, the sensation of asphyxiation. "I a-always knew that we could die here -- or out there -- but I - I wasn't ready to -- I didn't want to accept that..." 

Her cheeks radiated heat against his as they flushed furiously and trickled with tears. "When it all ended -- I thought that it wouldn't effect me -- or that maybe I'd somehow be proud of the life that I lived --", her voice cracked again, "But it didn't feel like any of that. I was so ashamed -- uncertain -- It's so hard to describe, really..." In spite of her shivering and sniffling, Elora's breathing seemed to steady.

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  • 3 weeks later...

"So... it was real."  Freyd's gaze focused upon the hazy outline of shadow cast by them both upon the still surface of the water.  Montjoy stared back, unwavering, unsympathetic, and cold. 

"I saw images of you falling while we battled against the floor boss, reflected on the surface of the black floodwaters.  You cried out, silently, but I couldn't reach you.  It seemed like an illusion - another one of Shadow's games and taunts."  Elora felt the muscles in his back and shoulders tense, like a weight had been added, or perhaps just the memory of it.  

"There was nothing I could do.  Everything except the boss room had already been engulfed.  We were barely holding on, ourselves.  Everything save a few fading lights we'd scavenged to ward of the darkness was just... gone."  Silence followed.  The slow, rhythmic thump of his heart, and hers, pounded in his ears.  Freyd's eyes closed, as a rare wave of feeling swelled and threatened to overwhelm him.

"I'm so sorry."

He didn't mention how the flood had taken them too, in the wake of Shadow's defeat, or of the price he worried might still be due for the gambit he'd played during the fight with Orgoth.  The taint he'd endured, and shared with the mighty minotaur champion still haunted his dreams.  

There may yet be a reckoning for that.

I know, Montjoy.  I know.  But she doesn't need that burden, especially now.

Resolve resurfaced.  It was Freyd most defining trait: that irrepressible need to carry on, no matter what.  His eyes re-opened without fear of staining from the same black tears that had etched themselves upon his skin during the boss fight, eating at him and threatening to devour his very soul.  Gently, instead, he wiped hers away with hints of feelings left unspoken, but conveyed through the tenderness of touch.  He would be strong, for her, and because his nature couldn't fathom any other option.  Inside, a fledging heart leapt, but found no purchase.  Freyd still didn't know how to express its outbursts, and lacked experience upon which to draw.

"You faced your death, Elora."  The words were calm and steady, reassuring and proud.  "That's never easy, but you've done it and survived.  You'll be stronger for it." 

He hesitated, the words assembling themselves, unbidden, upon his lips.  A warbly waver caught in his throat as he spoke, parching his voice such that his words were barely more than a whisper.

"I'm... so glad... that you're still here."

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"Shadow's...? Was that the name of...whatever caused all of this?", she managed to mutter as her weary conscience struggled to string the information together.

"There was nothing I could do...We were barely holding on, ourselves...", he continued. She listened, absorbing his accounts as he carefully wiped the tear-streaks from her cheeks. He saw me...did he see them all? Everyone who was swallowed before them? He said that where they were was the last place to be submerged, does that mean...?"

"I'm... so glad... that you're still here."

She nearly brushed the sentiment off as worry began to bubble up inside of her. In an instant of silence, she tried to search for the words to reciprocate his relief. "I'm glad I'm here too", hardly seemed appropriate. "That's not --", she'd already lingered too long. Now it would just be awkward to say what she had truly intended to. Instead, she raised her hand and gently cusped it around his own. It was the only way she knew how to salvage the intimacy of this moment, to convey to him in passing that she understood, and that she cared. 

"Freyd...what happened back there? To you -- and to the other members of Firm Anima? What about all of the other Frontliners?", pried Elora as her sorrowful expression morphed into one of concern. She slowly began to withdrawn from the crook of his shoulder, her eyes fixing on his to search for an answer. "Were you hurt?", she wavered, hesitating for a moment before raising a gloved hand to brush the veil of tangled bangs away from his forehead. It felt so...unfamiliar to study his expressions so closely. Freyd had always had an aura of...intensity...surrounding him that made her cautious to question many of his motives and to test his patience beyond a reasonable limit. Somehow, today, he seemed...different. Identifying how proved difficult for her. It felt as if something had begun to show through his placid appearance, like cracks spiderwebbing over the surface of summer pavement. 

"Are you ok?"

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"Shadow, the Malevolent."  The name sounded slightly clownish when he said it out loud, but the boss had proven himself to be a real and mortal threat.  "I never found out much of his backstory.  Everyone on the front lines was too focused on psyching themselves up for the fight to spare time for explanations."  A flick of his wrist sent a flat, polished, black stone skipping over the pond's surface.  The ripples reminded him of faces surfacing on roiling black water, only to be swallowed by liquid despair.

"He'd possessed a minotaur champion named Orgoth, who was an absolute titan of a thing.  Through force of arms and a certain clever gambit, we helped to free him."  Freyd's hand twitched, unbidden, as if the fling another stone, but realizing that its charge was already spent.  "I... connected myself to the darkness within him.  It bought us time and gave him the respite he needed to shake off Shadow's influence, but... at a cost."  

Even Freyd, practiced as he was at maintaining his façade, could not fully conceal the pain of recalling that moment.  It laid bare the thing that had been nagging at him since before the raid.  A tangent bought him precious time to rally his wits.

"Raidou made it.  Haine and Kil did too, I think.  All of the captains were present and survived."  A sheepish sideways glance into her eyes admitted that he'd dodged her actual question.

"I'm... conflicted.  I have been for some time, which isn't like me at all, but something unexpected happened before the raid."  Pressing his face into both hands, he swept back his crop of unruly hair.  It tumbled back into his eyes, ignoring such a paltry effort to interfere with its favoured state of dishevelment.  Turning to catch her gaze, he found it odd to have to struggle to meet it.  Here was a man whose glare could wilt flowers at thirty paces on the clear and shining summer's day, and yet he couldn't bring himself to say the words.  The notion of such a weakness was enough to stir fires of determination within, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers.  They were black.  Not merely the irises, but black in their entirety, like staring into the depths of the abyss, or into the darkest recesses of an infinite void.

"I've survived this world by emptying myself of everything: all connections and cares, and every feeling I have ever known.  I did it because I feared the darkest impulses within were unbalanced.  There was nothing noble to temper them, and I've lived what happens when they come out.  Not just here, but in the real world.  I didn't care about anything or anyone.  Even worse, I denied myself the possibility of caring, save in pretense and to the extent that it served whatever goals I'd set for myself."

Freyd's gut churned as he spoke his confession.  It made him sound horrible, but it was the truth, and he wouldn't hide from it.  

"It was the only way to be sure that I could do whatever was required - pay any price, or suffer any cost, to achieve whatever end.  Raidou bade me promise to carry on if he ever fell, and take Firm Anima forward to the top of this damnable castle.  I think I agreed because I knew had the will to do whatever it would take."  Pursing his lips, Freyd eyes darted over hers, seeing his visage reflected in those light blue eyes, hating yet desperate to work through the conflict he saw upon it.  Shame welled within.

"I'm not okay.  I can't possibly be okay if this is how I define my existence.  And I learned that by spending time with someone whose sheer joy of life was matched only with her uncertainty in herself."  A smile mustered, displaying his pride in her growth.  Elora had come so far.  

"You've shown me how to find meaning in life itself, not just progressing through a system towards an abstract goal.   I've learned to feel again."  The words fell like boulders crashing into water.  He'd never admitted it to himself out loud before.

"I could be a person again, instead of whatever thing I'd let myself become out of fear and loathing for the dark potential I knew lay within.  But, doing so means exposing a weakness in the armor I built around myself - that soulless machine that could plow through anything to achieve its purpose.  For all its power, the one thing that it cannot do is care."  

Pangs of something rang through his chest, compelling his eyes to close and teeth to clench.  Dozens of shadowy silhouettes suddenly manifest in the pond all around them, Freyd in shape and size, but fully black as pitch.  They stood, silently watching whatever this was, as if waiting for some sort of command.  Above Freyd's head, the green crystal icon darkened, first to orange, then red, and finally to light-consuming black.  Freyd's eyes opened wide as he gasped for breath and it all vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.  Gone were the copies, cast back into the void, and the crystal over his head was restored to its former emerald sheen.  Freyd's form rippled, for a moment, in the manner of a gemini changing its shape.  Confusion swept over his features as the forces within him threatened to rip him asunder.

"I don't know who or what I am anymore!"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Cobalt eyes followed the flick of Freyd's wrist, then the smooth stone that escaped it. She studied the ripples that spawned from its wake, barely able to prevent herself from becoming entranced and distracted by their mesmerizing movements. Her sights snapped back, followed by the occasional nod and stifled sighs that indicated she was still making an effort to listen intently; she was relived to hear that the other members of the guild had likely survived.

"I'm... conflicted.", he pivoted somewhat abruptly.

"About what?"

 "I have been for some time, which isn't like me at all, but something unexpected happened before the raid."

What? The kiss?, she nearly blurted out before biting her lip. He evaded her gaze, causing a surge of concern to resound through her chest. "You can tell --", she lifted her hand, then suddenly withdrew from him. What were -- how had his eyes --? Elora's heart caught in her throat.

"I've survived this world by emptying myself of everything: all connections and cares, and every feeling I have ever known..."

T-that voice -- it's still Freyd's...but his face...What the hell is going on?, she gaped, frozen in some sort of state that she could only describe as shock.

"...Not just here, but in the real world.  I didn't care about anything or anyone."

Her stomach sank, then began to feel sick -- a sensation she hadn't experienced for so long. She felt as if she were in danger. And for what reason? Freyd had never hurt her -- would never hurt her. He was her guildmate, her friend, her mentor...

"...You've shown me how to find meaning in life itself, not just progressing through a system towards an abstract goal. I've learned to feel again...But, doing so means exposing a weakness in the armor I had built around myself - that soulless machine that could plow through anything to achieve its purpose. For all its power, the one thing that it cannot do is care."

Heat began to return to her face as the blood in her body finally seemed to regain its circulation. In a flash, her arm tore through the air, summoning her spear in an explosion of light far too spectacular for the low-leveled starting weapon. She forcefully shoved over Freyd, then swung at the shadowy mirages just as they managed to disappear. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the rapidly-changing coloration of the marker above his head.

"WHAT THE F*CK, FREYD!", shouted Elora, her voice shrill and shaking with fear and anger.

"I don't know who or what I am anymore!", he confessed through a flurry of uncertain and unfamiliar expressions.

Elora returned to his side in two swift steps, sparing no hesitation to drive the butt of her staff into his shoulder and pin him to the ground. She had half a mind to stick him with the other end instead. "ARE YE FINISHED WITH WHATE'R THE HEEL THAT WAS, OR IS OGROTH JEST GONNA COME'OUTTA YEW AGEN AND TRY'TA KILL ME?! JEESES CHRIST! A 'weakness in your armor' -- What the f*ck are you on about?! Do you have any idea how many people I've used and I've hurt just so that I could get A THRILL out of it?! Do you really think that being this f*cking emotional is any easier than not feeling anything at all?!" Elora's eyes widened and bore into his as they burned with a fiery passion unlike anything he'd seen before. "Hell -- I WISH that I couldn't feel any of this sh*t! Do you know how much it would have helped me -- if I wasn't so overwhelmed by every single f*cking little thing that someone whispered about me -- about how I couldn't handle keeping up with partying and with passing in school -- or about how I was stupid enough to fall in love with a f*cking sociopath! I've TRIED to avoid thinking about any of -- about EVERYTHING that's happening here, and about how f*cking happy I'd be if I could just escape it all! But you know what -- I f*cking can't! I can't escape ANY life that I live because my baggage will ALWAYS follow me!"

Pressure was finally released from Freyd's upper torso as Elora hurled her spear off to the side of them in a fit of frustration. Her shoulders quickly sank as she finally seemed to simmer down and unwind from the tension of everything that she was feeling.

"So you know what, Freyd? I don't care if you don't care, because you've already showed more kindness to me than most people have --", her voice broke off as she rose her hand to cover her mouth and turn away from him, "And you've taught me...how to care about other people...or at least, to realize that I can become the kind of person for them that you have been to me..."

Edited by Elora
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Knees caving in, a backwards fall was timed to appear as fluid motion just ahead of the haft reaching his chest.  If he timed it right, the system would interpret it as sparring or some alternate form of contact - anything but an attack.  Frazzled as his heart might be, the machine-mind inside was always on, processing every input and dispatching responses to be executed with cold, calculated precision.  Yet, in this moment, its only motivation was to spare her the consequence of an accidental orange marker. 

That dark thing at his core screamed for retribution.  They had been attacked.  She was a threat!  Threats had to be put down mercilessly so as never to rise again.  It still held enough sway that Freyd's arm twitched at the impulse, but nothing more.  Whoever or whatever he was, or would become, Takeshi was a creature of will who refused to succumb to the conflict roiling within him.  Above, looking like some crazed celtic warrior-maiden, Elora unleashed a tirade of truth and revelations that she had struggled with since long before their first meeting.  This was who she was, laid bare in honest passion.  He found it beautiful.

"I f*cking can't! I can't escape ANY life that I live because my baggage will ALWAYS follow me!"

Raw oblivion sparked and sought to surge outward from behind his blackened eyes, held back by defiance and giving way to sympathy laced with understanding that reached into his very soul.  Bulging outward, those orbs of infinite hard edges finally softened, even as they tried to devour him from within.  Even in the midst of her rant, pouring her soul out out at him in the middle of a swampy bowl, Elora couldn't help but see pride mixing paradoxically with humility in her friend's face.  He knew her better than she realized.  Whereas she had given into bitterness, he had simply locked all emotion away, never to be seen again.  Neither approach had worked, but some miraculous stroke of fate had brought them together to help them both to realize and overcome their failings.

"So you know what, Freyd? I don't care if you don't care, because you've already showed more kindness to me than most people have -- And you've taught me...how to care about other people...or at least, to realize that I can become the kind of person for them that you have been to me..."

Confusion.  He had?  How?  Sensations flooding through him overwhelmed the machine.  Memories meshed together, pulling back in his utterly blown mind to reveal a pattern of being that had been there since the start, subtly weaving their lives into a map that could lead to something more.  Rarely are any so fortunate as to fathom the constellations of fate, and never without consequence.  Finally easing his guard, he gazed at her, an avatar of magnificently fierce fragility surrounded by a halo of fog and light.  Angels could never compete with such a vision.

"I..."

His voice trailed and warbled.  Lips pursed and looked ready to burst, suddenly interrupted by the sound of shattering glass.  Freyd's entire form seemed to shimmer for an instant, then shattered in its entirety, like a mob at the moment of death revealed to be nothing more than a two-dimensional pane of digital glass.  Like the rest of him, the slowly swirling crystal of polished obsidian over his head exploded.  Before Elora could react, the entire scene slowed to a crawl, Freyd's fragmented form frozen in the middle of its own destruction.  Blossoms still swayed on the nearby cherry trees.  Rippled still radiated in the water as small insects sacrificed themselves as snacks to whatever lay beneath the surface.  Reality gave way to the surreal.

"Oh dear," came a familiar voice from behind her and to the left.  "You've broken Humpty Dumpty, have you?  I hope you brought some glue."

There, standing on the last of the stones that had helped her cross to the island in the pond was an oddly normal-looking young man, but set in completely the wrong context.  A crop of tousled black hair capped a long narrow face with thick, arched eyebrows bearing down on a pair of blue-grey eyes that bore both mirth and wisdom well beyond their years.  Wire frame glasses perched on a thin nose gave him an air of depth and quiet intelligence. Angular features were set upon a wiry build that stood relaxed with the sleeves of his storm-grey henley rolled up.  Both hands were stuffed in the pockets of a pair of black slacks that had no place in this nightmarish prison world.  Without a doubt, he was Freyd, or Freyd was him, or…

“He calls me Montjoy," the man interjected, "after the arrogant French herald from Shakespeare’s Henry V.  I’m to be taught humility, apparently, though I suspect my purpose is actually to teach him the same, with a hefty dose of conscience."  Turning, he sent her a sympathetic smile, far more compelling than Freyd's faltering earlier attempt.  "Congratulations, Elora.  You’ve made quite the breakthrough yourself, it seems.  He's immensely happy for you. If only we could show him how to express it in a less shrapnel-laden manner.”

Stepping lightly and casually onto the earthy soil and bracing a polished shoe against one of the thicker protruding roots, Montjoy plucked a shard of static breaking Freyd from the air and spun in on a fingertip.

“Oh, Takeshi.  For such a stuffy sourpuss, you sure have a flair for the dramatic.  He’s actually head over heels for you, you know, but he’s completely hopeless when it comes to expressing such things.”  A sad, gentle smile affixed itself to his lips, eerily familiar to Freyd’s more mischievous grins but far more genuine and disarming.  Montjoy's eyes were far purer and more honest in their intentions, not layered with an onion-worthy combination of interwoven schemes  like Freyd's always seemed to be.

“Well, maybe not completely, but don't tell him I said so.”
 

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"Oh dear, you've broken Humpty Dumpty, have you?  I hope you brought some glue." 

Elora's aghast expression was curtailed by one of concern. Briefly, her eyes darted over to her weapon; it was too far away to conjure to her hand in only a moment's notice. Thousands of thoughts tremored through her mind in an instant. Who is that? Another player -- maybe one of the diseased that live on this floor -- or it could be -- 

A stranger, she decided as spinning heels firmly planted her to face the mysterious individual. “He calls me Montjoy,", he began to introduce himself as he scrutinized her through slate-colored eyes. "Congratulations, Elora. You’ve made quite the breakthrough yourself, it seems."

"How do you know my name? I don't enjoy playing guessing games during unwelcome reunions."

He flashed her a cordial smile. She didn't trust it.

“Oh, Takeshi", he sighed as careful feet carried him to where Freyd's fractured body was still glitched and suspended like a scattered mosaic. "For such a stuffy sourpuss, you sure have a flair for the dramatic. He’s actually head over heels for you, you know, but he’s completely hopeless when it comes to expressing such things.”

Takeshi...? Who is...? Is he talking to...Freyd..?, wondered Elora. She shook herself from the speculation. "You haven't answered my question. Who the hell are you -- or -- what are you? Are you a Gemini?" Freyd had mentioned having to strike down his darker half for a second time after sparing with the Sundered Spire and comforting Mari. There was no reason for her to doubt its possible return. Christ, it doesn't matter what he is! Freyd needs help!, she reminded herself. Montjoy's inspection of Freyd's irresponsive form prompted Elora to stride over to him and snatch the spinning shard from his fingertips "Give me that! You -- I don't know if we're gonna need it to fix him! Hell -- I don't even know what the hell this is. What if he's dead? What if some sort of bug is messing with the system and it's going to MAKE him dead ? I need to get him to the Guild! Rai -- yeah -- Raidou would know what to do!" Elora crouched down and began to use her cupped hands to, unsuccessfully, corral the floating fractals into a copy of their former shape. Her expression indicated worry, frustration, and determination all at once; However, In spite of numerous uncertainties and distractions, her fingers moved deftly and diligently to salvage whatever solutions that she could from the situation. 

"Well? Are you going to help me?", she finally remarked to Montjoy.

Edited by Elora
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“I know your name because he does.”  Montjoy’s smiling face turned slightly to point at Freyd with a flicker of his pale azure eyes.  His voice was calm and soothing, no hint of threat or alarm carried in its tone.  

"You haven't answered my question. Who the hell are you -- or -- what are you? Are you a Gemini?"

“I answered honestly: he calls me Montjoy, though I am as much Freyd as we are both Takeshi.”   The man spoke simple truth wrapped in such a tangled, convoluted weave of context and fate that made it sound more like an unintended riddle.

"Give me that! You -- I don't know if we're gonna need it to fix him! Hell -- I don't even know what the hell this is. What if he's dead? What if some sort of bug is messing with the system and it's going to MAKE him dead ? I need to get him to the Guild! Rai -- yeah -- Raidou would know what to do!"

Regarding her with heartfelt sincerity and genuine admiration that she cared so much for her broken friend, he paused to take a breath.  Would that Freyd could learn to do the same.  Perhaps he could, in time?

"Well? Are you going to help me?"

A strange serenity came over him.  She recognized it instantly: that same focused intensity as Freyd, but where his was the harsh and singular precision of a laser, Montjoy’s was a deeper, all-pervasive wisdom and calm.  And, it was familiar.  She’d felt it when she fell asleep against Freyd’s shoulder while hiding from Valentina, and every time Freyd talked her down from an avalanche of  raging passions.  Every time he lifted her up.  Every time he did what she had just declared in anger that she would do herself.  It felt exactly the same.

“I’ve been helping both of you for a very long time,” Montjoy replied softly.  “Just as you’ve been helping him to learn to hear me.”  Raising his hand, he dropped the shard back into place.  It rippled across the rest of the fractured field, causing a cacophony of clicks and clinks as they fused back together into a single whole.  Restored, Freyd’s image reflected Montjoy’s stance, like two figures watching each other in a mirror.  They were two sides of the same person, split as if through a prism and staring back at one another.

“I’m no gemini, Elora.  I’m him - only just the tiny part of him few might recognize as a decent human being.  You have a talent for seeing that in him.  You always have.  And it’s very likely to have saved his life.”

Hand still reaching out, he splayed his fingers and pressed them to the glassy surface.  Freyd’s image did the same, matching digit for digit.  Montjoy’s image shifted, in an manner eerily similar to the morphing flood of shadows that so recently sought to swallow their world.  When they receded, Freyd stared upon Freyd.  That which had been Montjoy was Freyd again and the double merely his reflection.

“I had the weirdest dream,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of marvel and epiphany.  The voice was identical, being both Freyd and Montjoy’s.  “I was getting beat up by Ugzeke, this big, stinky troll boss thing, and then there were these figures I’d faced from my past.  You were there, and Marvin.”  His face eased.  “And my grandfather.”

Freyd pursed his lips, bearing a wistful smile even as his eyes grew glossy.

“He helped me make my choice.  And so did you.”

Lifting his face to look upon her, she instantly noted the change.  Gone was the cold, calculating intensity concealed behind probing crimson orbs - lenses that prevented any sense or reading of the person hidden within.  Staring back at her with unbridled joy and adoration were two steely eyes of blue - the same she had just witnessed upon the face of his other selves.  Elora had seen all of him.  It was a unique achievement.  And thanks to her, after all this time, Freyd had finally become whole.

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  • 1 month later...

“I answered honestly: he calls me Montjoy, though I am as much Freyd as we are both Takeshi.”

It was as if, at that moment, Elora could feel all of her scattered thoughts sliding into place, like pieces of an intricate puzzle interlocking to construct a completed picture. She didn't know how to respond. Instead, she returned to the self-designated task of repairing Frey...Takashi... The name resonated with her in inexplicable sanctity. It feels like I've learned some sort of secret that I was never meant to know..., she began to assess the feelings of shame that followed the flushing of her cheeks, I guess that, eventually, I would have learned...

“I’m no gemini, Elora. I’m him -"

Her sideways glance at Monjoy was quickly averted once she realized that he was returning the stare.

"...You have a talent for seeing that in him. You always have. And it’s very likely to have saved his life.”

Elora shook her head as the words of affirmation were swallowed by static, the cacophony of a growing worry. No..., she found herself silently denying his praise and the possibility of a parallel truth to be revealed. Somehow, the very thing that she had sought out for years failed to satiate her desire for acceptance. It didn't feel...real...earned, deserved... What...what was missing? In this alternate reality, she had strived to construct the illusion of a confident and carefree heroine, an idealized self. Maybe...that's just it. None of this is REALLY me. Just like Freyd, I've been trying to fulfil the responsibilities brought on by all of this...If only he knew...how useless I really was... With a staggered exhale, she attempted to shove all of the doubts to the back of her mind. If just for a little while longer, she wished to play pretend. 

"Glad I could help...", she uttered insincerely through an undulating veil of insecurity. Just then, the mirrored mirages melded together and returned to a singular state. 

“I had the weirdest dream”, a renewed, yet familiar voice announced, “I was getting beat up by Ugzeke, this big, stinky troll boss thing, and then there were these figures I’d faced from my past. You were there, and Marvin...and my grandfather...He helped me make my choice. And so did you.”

"And what was that?", she asked him curiously. Elora couldn't help but smile at Freyd as he struggled to regain his bearings. Naturally, her sights took opportunity of his obliviousness and zig-zagged across his body in an attempt to assess any lingering similarities of Montjoy's appearance that had blended with his own. Nothing notable stood out, accept, had his eyes always been so...? 

She leaned forward and squinted, then suddenly snapped back into place as Freyd's countenance confronted her.

"Sorry, I was just --", she looked away, "Your eyes look really pretty..." After a brief moment of dreamy admiration, she added,  "I MEAN -- not that they didn't before! I think both -- both of your eye kinds look really cool!" Elora was clearly floundering in her efforts to continue the conversation.

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"Both of my eyes?"  Freyd arched a brow while furrowing the other, instantly marking the similarity to Takeshi she had sought.  It was there.  Everywhere.  Having seen the true him, it was impossible not to recognize it in everything gesture and action.  Even the cadence of his speech matched perfectly.  He clearly remembered nothing of her conversation with Montjoy, mere moments ago.

"I... uh..." struggling to re-sync into their conversation, he reached up and caressed her cheek with his hand, tracing the lines of her face with his index and thumb.  For the moment, his façade had faded and melted away, revealing the simplest and purest of joys in his face as he read and memorized her features.

"I chose who I want to be.  I... err... how do I even explain this?"  It was odd that he would even try.  Freyd was know for deflection when it came to his thoughts and intentions, not for laying them bare.  Closing his eyes, he gently pulled her closer, touching his forehead to hers, as if physical contact might beam his thoughts and intentions through where his words would fail.  It gave him the courage to try.

"I want to be the person you see in me.  The one you said you want to be yourself.  If we can each see it in the other, maybe, together, we can help each other see it in ourselves?"

Re-opening his eyes, he peered deeply into hers, seeing his own blue irises reflected in her own, and realizing the change for the first time.  His lips twisted and eyes watered, registering the significance.  His heart had finally won, thanks to her.  A genuine smile spread wide, from ear to ear and he laughed a tearful laugh of earnest happiness.

"Thank you, Elora.  Just for being you."

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She couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face as Freyd's hand reached up to cusp her chin. She did, however, resist the urge to kiss him so that he would have the opportunity to finish his sentences. But damn is he making this difficult, she huffed as he pulled her closer and rested his forehead against her own. S-stop thinking about it, just pay attention!, she tried to command herself.

"I want to be the person you see in me. The one you said you want to be yourself. If we can each see it in the other, maybe, together, we can help each other see it in ourselves?"

"I -- uhm --", started Elora before her voice broke off in an awkward cough.

"Thank you, Elora. Just for being you.", he said sincerely and through a wave of surfacing emotion. A wavering breeze revealed to him that both of her hands were raised and had begun to wave in some sort of strange attempt to ward off whatever embarrassment she was experiencing. 

"My words can't talk, it's too difficult...", she admitted aloud. Elora wasn't sure what to make of it all, this unfamiliar and vulnerable version of Freyd. How ironic it was that she had stumbled into a situation where SHE was at a loss for how to express herself. "I'm just --", her voice warbled as she tried to search for what to say, "I'm just so happy and thankful that you're ok." Slinging her arms around his neck, she gently pulled him closer and into a comforting kiss. Elora's fingers combed through his messy locks as she considered what Aincrad would have in store for them next. Although their struggles were far from over, she desired to slow down and enjoy the simple serenity of being reunited with the one that she cherished.

"Let's stay here a little longer..."

Edited by Elora
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