#📚 support: chad

[nabataprophet]

The uncertainty is infinitely worse.

It had gnawed at them ever since they escaped the Goddess' maw, only to hurtle headlong into the flames, only to be faced with even more uncertainty than what they had left behind in the name of trying to protect it; Garreg Mach burned, and Garreg Mach fell, and they still don't know who lies under its rubble and who else lies dead in the mountains' bowels.

Here, in this stuffy, dank shelter, Sophia doesn't number among them.

And neither does Chad. They shout her name as soon as they catch sight of that curtain of lavender, stumbling towards her, haggard and worn and exhausted, awash with relief and drowned in icy guilt for leaving everyone behind.

Maybe it wasn't their fault. They couldn't have possibly known. Their body wouldn't have made a difference on either front. But it still is eating them alive, because these things always have. A hand alights on her forearm, shifting up to examine her as they've done before.

This, all of this, is more than just a bloody handprint, and in that moment, they fucking left her. What does it matter they had everyone's best interests at heart? All their fury and fire for nothing.

"You're—" they begin, then fumble. "I'm sorry, I—" Their hands seize, freezing to not accidentally wring her along with them. Did they leave her with just as much uncertainty? The thought cuts to the bone. They don't know what to say.

"I'm s-sorry," they repeat, suddenly a shaking mantra. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Sophia had always secretly feared that one day she would fail to foresee something truly terrible would happen. In Arcadia, it had always been stressed to her that whatever she saw did not matter terribly, because this is Paradise, hidden behind a magic veil. Who would attack Paradise, when they couldn't even be sure it existed?

Until they had.

If her power had been stronger, she could have seen it coming. She could have seen it coming and then—

—then... what? What could she have done that would have changed things in any meaning way? Rushed out by herself just to get captured or die in vain out in the desert? Isn't knowing and still being unable to do anything just a different kind of helplessness?

What happened last night is the same. Even if she had known, the outcome would still be the same. They would all still be in this shelter, battered and bruised.

The sound of her name being shouted is all the warning Sophia gets before the last face she had been looking for appears. She knows they're coming this time, so she does not jump even when Chad grabs her wrist. She lets them examine her for injuries without complaint, passively allowing them to look over scrapes and nicks that are long healed over. The only blood there is her own, a dried remnant of the magic that had torn at her skin out on the field.

There is no bloody hand print on her wrist today.

This does not seem to soothe Chad any. If anything, it seems to make them feel worse and they apologize to her on loop for reasons she's not entirely sure of. Everyone else had just said or implied that they were happy to see she made it out okay and left it at that. What could they possibly have to apologize for?

You see, Sophia has another secret fear.

It is a simple irrefutable truth of her life that she will outlive all of her human friends. She accepted this truth a long time ago, back when she had only been a little bit taller than Fae. Who (what) she is necessitates a certain degree of detachment from others, a hardening of the shell around her heart to protect against the lifelong heartbreak she is destined for.

She knows this, but she is still afraid that her friends will leave this world long before they should. She is afraid that her friends will die young and that there will be nothing she can do about it. She is afraid that her friends will die and be frozen in her memories in their youth, never getting to reach adulthood. Even she will be an adult some day in the far distant future, but the same isn't true of her friends that die young.

But Chad is alive and that's all she can ask for.

Reaching for their hand, Sophia interlaces her fingers with Chad's. Her fingertips are still a little cold from casting Apocalypse multiple times in a row, but her touch is gentle. She squeezes gently.

"...It's okay."

I'm okay.

[nabataprophet]

eldest daughter gender anonymous

The Ethereal Ball is nigh! The planning committee is hard at work preparing for the second biggest event of the year and asks for volunteers to help make it happen! There’s plenty that needs to be done, from picking out the menu to securing the supplies you need for the dance cards.

@lycianlynx

Festivals, excursions, and now balls—the list of experiences Sophia has grows by the day. Back in Arcadia, balls were something contained to books and stories about the outside world from Igrene. Perhaps the biggest surprise is the amount of prep work that goes into setting up for a ball, a fact conveniently left out whenever they were described to her. She watches, bemused, as people run to and fro making preparations an entire month in advance, checking fabric scraps against one another to compare colors and running through lists of different food suppliers.

After watching the proceedings for a time, Sophia finds herself swept up in the preparations herself, a stack of papers thrust into her arms to be folded into dance cards. It’s a simple task, one that’s hardly proportional to the amount of gratitude she receives for offering her assistance. All she needs to do is sit quietly in a corner out of the way and fold paper, no more challenging than flipping through the pages of a book.

She is about halfway through her stack when a cursory glance up reveals a familiar figure. Even though they hadn’t had much reason to talk back when they had both been part of Lord Roy’s army, when she spots dusty blond hair amidst the crowd, she picks her way to where they are, previous task halted. 

She comes to a dead stop in front of them, suddenly aware that she has no idea how to speak to the little thief. Although “little” isn’t quite correct, either. In the time they’ve been apart, he’s just about as tall as Lord Roy now. 

“You...You’re taller than before.”

Not a question, but an observation.

She is aware, of course, that time has passed since then, even witnessed seasons (such things did not exist in the desert) change with her own eyes. But even so, she can’t help being startled seeing Chad look differently than in her memories. It’s different than seeing the villagers of Arcadia gradually grow older; changes happening so slowly that they are hardly perceptible. 

“Have...you been well...?” An awkward attempt to salvage her attempt at conversation.

[nabataprophet]

a kiss against the cheek temple after discovering the other is napping

(they wonder about the crick she'll have in her neck when she wakes up, but doesn't have the heart to wake her. a blanket is pulled from the other side of the library and pulled up to her chin, and without thinking, they press a single kiss to her temple.

damn old habit. it's barely more than a light brush, but he starts at the realisation of what he's done with a quiet gasp, turns on his heel, and fucking books it.)

another kiss prompt x

Even if she were to read every book in Arcadia's library front to back enough times to have every line memorized, centuries of being cut off from the outside world meant that the selection would always be limited. Here, though, she could read books they didn't have back home. Is it any surprise that she would find her way to the library on her days off?

Whereas others may indulge in moderation, perhaps read a book or two before returning to the dorms or join up with their friends at the dining hall, the excitement of new knowledge is not tempered by things like physical needs. Things like eating and sleeping can be put off until this chapter is over, until this book has reached its end. There will always be time for such things later.

Gradually, the light filtering in through the library's windows fades, until the only light is the flickering of candlelight. With the passage of time, the open book in front of Sophia long since sits untouched. The girl in question slouches over in her chair, breathing softly. It is a sleep that is too light for dreams; a blessing in of itself. It is a peaceful moment of quiet, free of worries.

It's a light sensation against her temple that causes Sophia to stir, heavy eyelids fighting against sleep. She raises a hand on instinct to brush back the hair that has surely fallen out of place, but she only manages to dislodge the blanket that wasn't there earlier. Soft fabric slides down, pooling in her lap.

Blearily, she catches a flash of movement at the edge of her vision. The fleeing figure is reminiscent of a spooked cat, raised hackles and all. Despite the frantic way they scramble out of the library, his footsteps fall almost soundlessly on the wooden floor.

The blanket is a gift, then, from the little thief.

One hand closes the book and the other gingerly touches her temple once more. There truly is nothing there, but the ghost of a touch faintly remains.

...A second gift, perhaps?

[nabataprophet]

If you were to ask what Chad and Sophia should be doing, the answer is rather simple: they should be cutting down trees. The Black Eagles have their reputation to recuperate after the events of a certain candy game reached the ears of higher ups and a number of students have been sent out on volunteer work.

But it is a rather warm spring day, so instead the two of them are taking shelter under the shade of the very tree they should be chopping down. It's a shame, really. Sitting underneath the tree, they get a spectacular view of the delicate petals floating to the ground in the breeze. It's a breathtaking sight made bittersweet by the knowledge that no one in this village will ever see these trees bloom ever again.

As beautiful as the flowers are, these trees will continue to spread if left untouched until all of the native plant life and even the villagers themselves are displaced. As sad as it is to get rid of them, these trees were never meant to be here. Their existence in this village must be fleeting or they will continue to pose a problem for years to come.

Even so, Sophia can't help feel a little bad for them.

"..........?"

Glancing away from the falling petals, she catches sight of Chad fiddling with... something.

@lycianlynx

pocket full of posies

anniversary 2024: axe +1

[nabataprophet]

continued from here

The regret is not instantaneous, but it does set in fairly quickly. The little thief does not carry the conversation as she had hoped, just stares at her wide-eyed like a startled cat. It’s only fair, she supposes, because even with a shared past, they had never spoken directly to one another. They had existed in the same place at the same time, but that did not guarantee a connection. They were acquaintances at best—strangers who merely knew each other’s face.

“...Yes, I was... asked to help,” Sophia confirms and the conversation (if it can even be called that) fizzles out, the sound of the other volunteers bustling about filling in the silence. She really hadn’t planned any further than offering up a greeting and then returning to their respective businesses.

“There aren’t... balls in Arcadia, so I wanted... to participate in the preparations,” she offers as a belated explanation. “It’s my first time experiencing something... like this. Um, have you... ever been to one before?”

Forget a friendly relationship, she lacks even the most basic information about them. A more worldly person might’ve been able to at least recognize their accent at the very least, but she lacks even that.

...Is there even a single thing she knows about the person in front of her?

@lycianlynx

eldest daughter gender anonymous

[nabataprophet]

Perhaps there is a small comfort in knowing they also come from a small village, because Sophia's tense shoulders relax slightly.

"Araphen..." Sophia repeats. After leaving Arcadia she had taken in interest in maps of the outside, so she could vaguely place that location. "That's... in Lycia, right?"

Everyone else she had asked had acted like it was only a matter of course to throw such a grand ball ("Huh? Of course they're holding a ball! They do it every year! Where did you say you were from, again?"), but Chad's more grounded reaction really helps keep things in perspective. For commoners like the two of them, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a glimpse into the events that nobles found so commonplace that they didn't even feel the need to mention.

Chad asks a harmless question, desperately trying to continue the conversation, but Sophia freezes anyway, eyes wide.

"...Parties...?" Has she ever been to a party? Certainly not the kind of parties that required this much setup or dressing up in fancy outfits. "Um, when Igrene was younger... I helped celebrated... her birthday a few times...? Oh... and since Fae wasn't allowed to go outside, sometimes... I would go over and decorate for her."

That last part hardly constitutes a "party", but surely it counted for something that she at the very least knew how to put together decorations. See, she was sheltered, but not that sheltered. Even a priestess from a hidden village like her had experienced parties before!

...Kind of.

"You... have been to parties before, then...? What were they like?"

eldest daughter gender anonymous

[nabataprophet]

Sophia nods, "Oh... that sounds like we did. There are fruit trees... that grow near the oasis. We used the fruits... to make sweets for special events. Cookies with date or apricot jam... things like that."

Nothing too fancy, but tucked away in their secluded little world, the children didn't know any different. It's hard to be envious of something you don't know exists.

She falls silent again hereafter, letting Chad stew in their reminiscence alone. Even if it's only for a moment, they look much happier than they had been, talking about the home that had raised them. But the moment is over soon, fond expression dropping from his face.

In this big empty hall, the two of them are children so, so far from home.

The other people milling around the hall pay them no mind as they go about their own business. No one has a moment to spare for those who seem to be doing just fine on their own. Fiddling with their own crafts, there is no need to step in and provide instruction.

"...I haven't either. Importing food is a little..." Sophia trails off. Chad has seen for himself the process of getting to Arcadia, so there's no need to elaborate any further on the matter. "I think I would... like to try them at least. When I go home... I can tell Fae about it."

The little girl would surely clamor to try it for herself, but even if Lord Roy were to take pity and try to send some for her to try, surely all of those expensive foods would be too delicate to survive the journey through the desert, sandstorms and all.

"...Will you... tell them?" Sophia asks hesitantly.

eldest daughter gender anonymous