#and then when you put the axe through emet-selch it's literally ardbert's spirit and all that light

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

the first introduction we have to primals, at the start of the game, tells us that they're:

gods

summoned by the beast tribes

using crystals aspected to the deity's element

and a specific summoning ritual

that are unilaterally aether-hungry and destructive

and then almost every primal after that spends its time going no, actually, that's a really narrow and kind of inaccurate definition. shiva and shinryu demonstrate that anyone can summon a primal, if they know how to and they have the ingredients. the game also implies, though doesn't really outright state, that primals aren't actually the gods they claim to be and don't even really have. a single coherent consciousness. they're more of an influx of aetheric energy defined by the circumstances of their summoning. as evidenced by the summoning of bismarck acting nothing like how bismarck would rightly act, and hraesvelgr flat-out telling ysayle that she's never actually communicated with the real shiva, she's just tricked herself into thinking she did, and then also the fact that when the kobold child gets in the way of titan's summoning it throws the entire consciousness out of whack.

the final summoning of garuda, and then shinryu and tsukuyomi show that you don't even need specific belief in the primal you're summoning for it to work. any kind of fervent faith will do, though it's arguably easier to use a deity as a focus because if you don't know in advance that it's possible, "i'm going to create a big monster with my mind" is sort of a difficult jump. you don't even need it to be the belief of people in your immediate vicinity, because yotsuyu uses the history of the mirror she's given to do it all by herself.

also, you can use yourself as a vessel for a summoning, and still retain your consciousness and survive the primal's dissolution, as shown by shiva, and both shinryu summonings, and tsukuyomi. and then there's susano: a kami who arguably effects his own summoning once you bring the three treasures together. and all of those circumstances, along with ramuh, show that primals, while needing a constant influx of aether to sustain themselves, are capable of retaining a consciousness beyond hunger.

so okay, to recap, our new list of primal understanding is:

they're beings formed of a massive concentration of aether

created by some intangible force of united belief

and a single focal point with a desire to create a primal

so to jump back to my original point, the climactic emet-selch fight. at the point right before the battle, the protag is like, beat. the entire party has been comprehensively stomped, and the WoD can't even muster the strength to take another step, consumed as they are by the light within that's finally winning against them. y'know, the massive amount of light aether that was enough to create five lightwardens and change the entire sky.

also, as the talos-building and then your departure from the crystarium showed, at that point, nearly every single person in norvrandt believes with their whole heart in the Warrior of Darkness. maybe not you, specifically, not everyone, but they believe in the nigh-mythic hero bringing back the night, and they believe in the person who's gone toe-to-toe with the lightwardens, beings who can't even die without perpetuating themselves and destroying their attacker, and everyone in novrandt wants you to win, motherfucker. they believe in you.

so we've got aether. and we've got faith. and we've got a single focal point to channel both those things. the final rub is element. the game isn't really... 100% clear whether the primals have to match the elemental energy you use to summon them, (or if it is they care little enough about it that i don't remember), but it definitely influences them, and if you want a specific thing to be created you're probably gonna want to go with the elements that match it. also, dumping a bunch of light into most things fucks it up, like, a lot, as the sin eaters/lightwardens and the whole of the empty demonstrate. the only exception to this that you're aware of at this point is the WoD, who was already primed and able to hold a whole bunch of light via hydaelyn's blessing. (true, you fell apart at the end there, but you were doing really good for three or four wardens, which is three or four more than anyone else can claim!) so even if you do have everything else you need for a summoning, you're gonna need a focus that can actually sustain it without turning into a mad monster.

and what do you have but ardbert, the spirit shade tied to your being, who's been following you around inarguably extant but unable to act without a body. a mother fucking Warrior of Light.

do you see what i'm saying!! you summon him!! you pour all that Light into his spirit, taking everyone's faith in you and turning it into a net for him, using your single fractured body and soul as a focus, passing the torch on to someone who can hold out against the light for a little bit longer. just long enough to see the job done. you bring the fallen hero of the first back for one last dance.

it's arguable that this is actually exactly what happens and it just would've been really fucking cumbersome to show in a cutscene but if shb ended with the WoD summoning ardbert like a primal it would have been a really epic and perfect climax of all the stuff they've been building up about primals throughout the rest of the game

[shardweavers]

Chapter Seven - Sparks of Insight

As she leaned back in the tub and sank down, some of the Miqo'te Warrior of Light and Darkness's short, black hair (which shaded into teal at the tips) floating on top of the water, Shoto was consumed by one singular thought:

What in the wide multitude of hells am I doing? Or thinking? 

Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Emet-Selch, alive and well, by all appearances, was presently resting in the adjoining room. Or, at least, he was alive and well now, because of what she'd done. Her mortal enemy, the one who'd nearly destroyed Norvrandt, and simultaneously the one who'd taught them all about the lost civilization of Amaurot and the truth of the thirteen shards, had literally dropped into her lap in the form of a shoebill.

...She was never going to take shorebirds with weird eyes for granted again.

This would've been enough of an overwhelming thing to process, and the information overload was only compounded by the strange reverberation in the Echo from touching his hand. Even now, she couldn't quite process it. 

It had felt...so strangely familiar, and yet so alien…

What it reminded her of most was the final battle; that moment, when the spirits of Ardbert and the other Warriors of Light from the First, when she and her friends had...combined with them?

Rejoined…?

Feeling Ardbert's aether resonate with her own, back then, it had given her that same feeling. A sense of familiarity, and a sense of otherness, at the same time. It seemed impossible for these sensations to coexist, and yet they had. She was sure it had contributed to how despondent and out of sorts she'd been feeling...well...since then.

...But was it just a feeling?

Ever since that day, she'd felt like strange things had been happening around her since then; little events that made her feel as if something was... 'off', although she still wasn't sure if they were just her wandering mind or not. Still, since they seemed to happen both on the Source and here on the First, it had to be related to her, not just where she was. 

She had meant to talk to Angel about it, but she hadn't wanted to worry him; like as not, it was just after-effects of the Light they'd absorbed, back then, back when they'd gone to the Tempest...

Thinking about what had happened in the Tempest, about Amaurot, returned her mind to the events that had just transpired in the other room, with the Ascian. She lifted her hand up out of the water to examine it.

Hades...Emet-Selch...he mentioned the Eternal Bonding Ceremony. But the Amaurotine one. 

That it was a literal, actual eternal bond between him and this…”Azem”...? 

Her thoughts trailed off as she continued to look at her hand. 

When they'd touched, it'd been like a jolt of emotional electricity down a long-forgotten cable. It'd brought back all that sudden anguish she'd felt when she watched him die, when she heard those words, “remember us, remember that we once lived.” When he'd said that, it'd felt like a part of her was dying, like her heart was being ripped out. Tears had fallen freely down her cheeks as she watched the Ascian fade away into nothingness...just thinking about it made her breath hitch and forced her to wipe away a new moisture from her eyes.

...And at the time, she'd thought, why does this hurt so much? Why is victory so bitter?

Sitting up again, she now thought maybe she understood. When they'd touched again, it had been...warm. Gentle. Kind, a kindness that was so bizarre to feel from the sneering, acerbic Paragon that if anyone had told her only a week ago he was capable of it, Shoto would've laughed in their face…

Was...was it that her own soul was truly that similar to Emet-Selch's soulmate from the past...? To Azem's? 

Shoto smiled ruefully to herself, shaking her head. She couldn't be sure, but it fit, didn't it? It wouldn't be the first time the Echo had shown her a vision of someone like herself, but not herself. Maybe that was one question solved, amongst many; at any rate, her wrinkled fingers told her it was probably time to end her bath.

As she hoisted herself up, though, the room spun, and she had an overwhelming sense of panic and sadness, a sudden feeling that hit her like a wave. The Miqo'te braced herself, gripping the edge of the tub. ‘What is this?!?' 

The panic she felt did not seem to fade; it was almost overwhelming. And yet... 

These weren't her feelings…! They were like the emotions from the moment she'd just been musing upon; the difference was that this time, it wasn't gentle or warm, but feelings of intense unease. 

Grounding herself and trying not to focus on the seemingly unstable room, Shoto nimbly left the tub, drying herself off as best she could and as quickly as she could, with her eyes shut tight. Throwing her clean clothes on almost literally, not bothering to properly fasten them, she pushed open the door from the bath and peered out, her ears back against her head, not sure what she expected to see. 

Emet-Selch was still laid on the bed, fast asleep...but he was moving in his sleep, shifting about and murmuring. Shoto slowly moved over to the bedside, and the feeling, in turn, seemed to intensify. She was sure of it, now; this proved it, to her at least. She was feeling what he felt! The Echo from Azem had granted her some level of connection to him…

Perhaps she should've felt repulsed. But she did not. Instead, she felt suddenly, deeply curious, and reached a hand out on impulse, hovering over his shoulder; she almost instinctively wanted to wake him.

'He looks like he's having some kind of nightmare...?' 

Shoto paused as his words became clear.

"Please...don't go...Perse--" 

And then, with a swift intake of breath, Hades' amber eyes opened suddenly; Shoto backed up in surprise, her arms pulled up to her chest in an instinctive and traditional Miqo'te posture. His gaze met hers as his panic subsided, and he frowned, his brow furrowing. 

Shoto cleared her throat and looked away, folding her arms behind her as she broke the awkward silence.

"Erm. I-I came over to check on you! Since you were moving, and talking, in your sleep."

She decided quite consciously not to mention the panicked feeling she'd felt flowing off him, which was thankfully subsiding, though it was replaced with a sense of frustration from the Ascian.

For his part, Hades arched his eyebrows, his lips curling into their typical insincere smirk that was half a sneer.

“Well! How terribly considerate of you, my dear Warrior of Light. And here I thought I was still your dangerous, wicked enemy.” She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he snickered; the Miqo'te sighed in defeat, her ears flicking and her tail lashing. Of course he would be difficult about this. Ugh!

For his part, Hades brought a hand to his forehead, hoping the woman was distracted, and was dismayed to feel how damp and sweaty he found it. His clothing felt damp, too; he must've sweated right through his finery. Damn. Perhaps his body was feverish, a reaction to the stresses of...reincarnation? Resurrection? Whatever useless term the shattered wanted to use for his current situation.

Of course, with this accursed weakness, I'm not so different from them, am I? Thanks ever so much, dear Emissary.

Letting out a breath that threatened to become a sigh, he shifted and sat up, only to find that Shoto had, indeed, noticed the dampness of his clothing. Damn and damn. The sigh was released into the world as he shrugged in her general direction.

“If you're still in the mood to spread kindness, I wonder if I might take a turn using your bath?” he inquired. She blinked, then nodded.

“O-of course. It's all yours,” Shoto said, as she motioned towards the bathing area. The Ascian went to swing his legs over the edge of the bed...and she began to move to help him? She stopped when she registered the intensity of his gaze. Once more, Hades arched his eyebrows, and this time his smirk deepened.

“Now, now, I'm not an invalid, here,” he chided. “Believe me, I am quite capable of making it into your bathtub on my lonesome...Unless, of course, you had some...ulterior motive to your charity?”

“Wh-what?!?”

Emet-Selch fluttered his eyes almost coquettishly. “Really, I'm flattered that you're so keen to have your hands all over my body, but--”

“You…! Ugh! That's not it at all!” Shoto almost shouted, her expression clearly irked and her cheeks a brilliant red. He couldn't help but laugh, his grin triumphant as he almost promenaded over to the bathroom, shaking his head.

“I jest, I jest! Haha, you mortals are far too easy, sometimes,” he remarked. Offering a wink and a grin, he shut the door, leaving Shoto to fume.

WELL. Someone had some nerve after what she'd done for him!

Stupid Ascian! Stupid Paragon! Stupid...shoebill!!

Although, that was just like him, wasn't it? 

The Seeker grumbled to herself, fighting her blush down as she removed the sweaty sheets from where he had slept. She put them in a hamper nearby, then found a set of fresh linens of a matching cream color in a nearby armoire. Once the bed had been remade, she laid down on it with a long sigh of her own, her hands behind her head.

'What a day this has turned out to be,' she thought, as she wondered what exactly she was going to do about Emet-Selch. 

How would she tell the others about him, about...any of this? 

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb with a quiet sigh, 'Why do I always end up in these kinds of situations?' 

Her head still hurt, and she let her eyes close as she tried to relax even a little, sort out her thoughts and her feelings. At least she felt like she'd begun to understand the strange influx of emotions from their final battle, and the sense of loss and pain she'd felt from Hades' death, the grief from seeing that axe pierce his body…

Azem. That name. She wondered if she might learn anything else about it, if they returned to the Tempest? He'd re-created all of Amaurot there, including Hythlodaeus, so perhaps she could learn what that name meant, and how they connected to her. It wasn't snooping, not really; it was trying to solve the riddle of her own connection to this lost Amaurotine, why the Echo had shown her Azem's visions.

Though there was another name he'd been murmuring...With grief in his voice, he'd called out for Persep--

Shoto realized she had dozed off while laying on the bed when a sudden shift of weight was felt beside her. Her eyes flew open again to find Emet-Selch seated on the edge of the bed; he had leaned over to watch her.

“D-Didn't you just--”

“I would think turnabout is fair play, my good Warrior of Light,” he replied smoothly, spreading his arms in a familiar and faux-innocent manner. His smile was maddeningly enigmatic--it hovered somewhere between genuine and sarcastic, between cruel and kind. A rather large part of her wanted to shake him and demand to know his angle! She should at least tell him off for taking liberties, she'd been genuinely concerned, and he had no such excuse!

As she sat up to do exactly that, though, she realized what he was wearing; a light grey robe, of sorts, that was a little too short for his build, showing off the pale expanse of his muscular thigh. It kept him decent, but it was haphazardly draped open, with part of his jacket over his shoulder; undoubtedly for added warmth. Crimson spread violently across Shoto's face again, her ears backing as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was absolutely not helped by Hades' snort of laughter, although, perhaps to his credit, he did try to keep his chuckling contained.

"Ah, forgive me, I'm a bit limited in the choices of clothing you have available in this room of yours," he said with a flourishing gesture around the room... but, after a dramatic pause, he grinned, and leaned a bit closer, "Though I dare say, is that a blush I'm seeing from you, Hero?" He leaned forward a bit more, only a few ilms away from her--too close! "So, do you like what you see? Are you regretting--"

The Miqo'te's heart hammered in her chest as her tail lashed, "I regret absolutely nothing, and what I would like is for you to be fully clothed!" Shoto replied; she was fully aware that her actions spoke otherwise, her eyes moving swiftly from him back to the side, the blush still very present on her face. 

Emet-Selch just shrugged and gave an almost gentle sigh. "Tut, tut. You are no fun. But I was truthful, my dear hero, I don't have very many options--" he said with a laugh...but that seemed to be a bridge too far for his still-fragile body, the amused expression becoming a grimace of pain.

All her annoyance melted away, and Shoto moved off the bed so he could lay back down, though the Ascian seemed almost disappointed.

“Come now, you don't have to move at my expense." He kicked back, and rested one arm behind his head; the other draped across his abdomen.

Shoto watched as he moved to lay down; she wondered why he hadn't just healed himself. The Miqo'te sat back down on the edge of the bed, as she watched him lay himself down, her cheeks still pink. Wasn't he a sorcerer of eld, as he'd triumphantly proclaimed during their battle? His magicks far surpassed anything she could even think of wielding, yet here he was, still vulnerable, still recovering. He was a Paragon, an unsundered being, so why…?

What was he hiding from her?

She was so lost in thought that she failed to notice a quiet, almost timid knocking at her door, and only realized--with a sudden pang of panic that was very much her own--that someone was there when she heard the quiet voice of Angel, breaking the silence.

"Shoto...? I brought an herbal remedy from Chessamile... a-and some food from the Markets."

Her head snapped towards the doorway.

Twelve preserve me.

She'd completely forgotten that Angel would be stopping by to help her with the bird. To help heal the gods bedamned shoebill. The Miqo'te looked back to the Ascian on her bed with a mixture of panic and fury on her face. 

Emet-Selch didn't move, he just looked to Shoto with a smirk on his face. He did, at least, speak in a low whisper, far too soft to be heard. 

Though his words helped nothing in the least.

"Oh my my my. Well! This shall be most entertaining," he said with a widening grin, "Pray tell me, how will you explain this one, Hero?" 

“Shut up!” she hissed.

“A bold strategy, but with very low benefits.”

“Shut up!”

Angel's ears backed, then he shifted one forward as he leaned against the wood, trying to listen for sounds on the other side of the door. He could hear movement, and thought he could hear quiet voices, but couldn't make out anything that was said…?

Was one of the other Warriors, or the other Scions, in there with her and the shoebill?

"A-Are you... still awake...?" It felt silly to ask, but he did anyway, as he shifted the shopping bag in his hands. 

The voice that answered Angel was not Shoto's. Shoto did not have a sardonic drawl like that, and this voice was masculine. Masculine and terribly familiar.

“Why, the door is unlocked, dear friend!”

The Miqo'te mage froze; his hand on the doorknob, and his eyes widened. That voice...that voice…! The dark familiarity in it...It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach; one he'd learned to listen to long ago…! He pulled the door open wide.

'Who is...?' 

The door clicked open, and for a moment it seemed time stopped as Angel stepped past the threshold, and immediately looked over to Shoto's bed, his eyes locking on…

Him. 

Emet-Selch. 

The Ascian.

Angel hadn't recognized the voice immediately, but he knew the face, his jaw dropping in shock, ears pinned back, horror and dread settling into his stomach like a lead weight. Dropping the bag without a second thought, he reached to the side to call forth his mage's staff. 

"Sh-Shoto! A-Are you okay...? H-How is...?!" 

Despite his bravado, his hand visibly shook, and it took him a moment to materialize his cane in a swirl of white light. “G-get away from her…!” he managed--

But...wait.

Shoto had stood, an expression of pure panic on her face, and interposed herself…

Between them…?

“No! Angel, no, no, I'm, I'm fine, it's…” Shoto winced as she trailed off, biting her lip. All her thoughts on how to explain this were both crowding her mind and rendered completely moot as she looked between the still-smirking Paragon and her bewildered friend. “Look. It's, um...You remember the bird, o-obviously, so...You see, the bird...I…”

"I was the bird just to note," the Ascian chimed in with a wave of his hand. 

Angel's tail curled as he frowned, his eyes narrowing in suspicious disbelief. He gripped his cane defensively, but said nothing, looking to Shoto as if hoping for more explanation from a source he trusted. 

The Ascian chuckled a bit, but seemed to swiftly regret it; another grimace of pain crossed his face. "Tch...drat. Well. I guess laughter shall be more painful than usual, for the time being.”

At the Ascian's wince, Angel's ears flicked sharply, and his frown intensified, but his expression was now more...conflicted, rather than defensive. Letting his aether brush against Emet-Selch's, Angel felt the same thing that he had when he'd first looked at the shoebill; the deep, internal wound... only now, he knew the cause. It didn't make any of this easier.

"I-I...I don't understand," he said softly.

"It might be easier to, to have a seat, and I can try to explain in detail," Shoto said, after a long sigh, her expression pleading. 

Angel still kept a tight grip on his cane, and he was still scared half out of his wits. This was Hades, after all, the terrifying sorcerer they'd fought at the heart of Amaurot, a lord of the Ascians… They'd barely beaten him before, as a group... 

But...Shoto's expression was an argument that maybe he should talk. The White Mage nodded silently; and remembering the bag he'd dropped, he hurriedly picked it up...sidestepping in the process towards the desk, which was near the bed, and leaving the bag of herbs there.

Shoto eyed Emet-Selch as they passed him, then hurriedly waved for Angel to follow her to the balcony. Angel nodded as she waved him over, following quickly, and let her pull the doors shut behind her before she seated herself at the small table. Angel dismissed his cane once they were outside, then sat across from the Scholar. 

Once they were seated, Shoto let out a weary sigh, massaging her temples.

"I don't know how I manage to get myself into these situations," the female Miqo'te said, looking to Angel with a half smile, "At least we can talk out here without," she paused, and glanced at the door as she finished, "unwanted ears." 

She looked back to Angel, took a breath, then began to tell him what had happened. "So. He was telling the truth about the bird; it was him. Of course, I didn't realize that until I got back here. He... suddenly shifted his form... after he was on the bed. I was just as surprised as you. Full of fear even. My body didn't want to move, until I saw him doubled over in pain."

Angel's ears stayed pinned as she talked. He didn't want to interrupt her, so he simply nodded to what she'd said so far. Shoto frowned, then looked down at the table in front of her. She sounded upset, and confused. Angel's worried frown remained as she continued.

"And I know, yes, something isn't right. Why did he come here seeking aid and not just heal himself? We both know he easily had the power to do so when we fought him last. I-I know I probably shouldn't have... but... I just... reacted, and I healed him." 

She bit her lip, and clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. Her expression shifted from worried to sad, "I didn't want to watch someone die in front of me again. I've had more than enough of that already." 

Once more, memories of those they'd lost floated before her eyes--and she was gratified to see that, though his ears were still tight against his head, his expression had softened, and he was shaking his head.

"No, I understand... I-I think... I would have done the same. I-I've... also..." 

He shook his head, then flicked his ears out to the side. He also remembered their friends that had left them, but his voice left him at the sudden recollection of his first husband. 

Taiga...

How helpless he'd felt then. How much he blamed himself for his death. He honestly couldn't say he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing as Shoto had if it'd been him. He idly fingered the ring on his left hand, when Shoto broke the silence to continue her story...she, too, wanted to move on from the pain of those memories. Her words drew his attention back to the topic at hand; the Ascian in her room.

"I had a vision, from the Echo, as he rested. It's strange...we've never been able to touch the memories of their kind before. I always assumed it was because they were protected by Zodiark..." 

She paused, then shook her head, "He never once tried to attack me or threaten me, even when I was completely in the Echo's thrall. What I saw... was someone dear to him." Shoto decided to leave the part about how she'd passed out on him. 

"When I asked him about the woman I saw, he was...cagey, at first, but then finally admitted that she was his soulmate, back in the times of Amaurot." She left it there. 

Angel nodded, and looked thoughtful. After a moment, it dawned on him what she'd said, then he shifted to face her more directly. "W-Wait... the Echo granted you a vision of an Ascian's past...?" He blinked, then put a finger to his chin, "You're right, we've never been able to... Th-That is... at least... the only thing I've ever seen was when they were involved in someone else's past." 

His tail flicked sharply, and he shook his head again. There was a slightly bigger issue than the odd, unknown intricacies of the Echo. 

"N-Neverrrmind... Th-This whole thing doesn't make sense. W-We can both tell that's rrreally him, so... why... why would he come to those who…?” 

He trailed off, a quiet thoughtful purr following his nervous, purr-infected speech; it was a habit the young Keeper of the Moon had when he was out of sorts or deep in thought. When he trailed off so suddenly, Shoto frowned a little, and looked down to the table.

"Honestly? Nothing has seemed quite...right since that last battle." She fidgeted slightly, unsure exactly how to start explaining what she meant, "I have...or I feel like I've been...having strange things happen around me. I thought it was just after effects of the Primordial Light that we'd housed between us, after taking on the Lightwardens, but..." The female Miqo'te looked back to Angel, "Well, I'm not so sure anymore." 

He tilted his head slightly.

"Wh-What do you mean...?" Angel stuttered, as his tail curled into a circle. Shoto flicked her ears, then moved her hands to gesture as she explained.

"It might sound silly, but... while I was at my house, yesterday, for example, I noticed a vase that I've wanted to put flowers in for a while. I distracted myself with thoughts about how nice a red flower would look in it. I felt like I could picture it perfectly.”

She took in a deep breath. “And then, when I looked back to the vase, a red flower had just sort of... appeared in it. I thought I was going crazy. That maybe it was there all along," she shook her head, "but similar little things like that have been happening ever since...Ever since Amaurot. So I'm not so sure, anymore."

Angel put his hands on the table and fidgeted with his eternity band again.

"I... I don't think it's silly... I talked to Ice..." he shook his head, trying to clear it a bit, "That is... I trrried to... talk to Ice, but... he didn't seem to... get what I meant. He just said he felt strongerrr," Angel took a breath, then folded his hands together to keep from fidgeting as much. 

"Something similar happened for me. A-A small fish... One that wasn't in my aquarium. One that I didn't remember even seeing before. A strange bird on a shelf, when there shouldn't have been any way for them to get in." He flicked an ear, "Small animals, mostly... in odd places. They all seemed... new? I-It wasn't like when I would find strays and bring them in." 

He bit his lip again, and pinned his ears back. There was one other thing he'd noticed, but wasn't sure if it was related or not. It was still too strange not to tell Shoto about it, though. "But... the strangest thing... is that... I swear I keep seeing Tora playing around, but he runs off before I can..." He let his voice die off and shut his eyes, and was quieter as he continued. "I-I know it's an impossible thing, since he was..." Angel stopped, then fidgeted a little. His nervous habit of purring in his speech seemed especially prevalent on this topic, "I'm not completely surrre... if it's rrrelated... but I-I," the male Miqo'te shook his head harder and cut himself off. "N-No. Th-That's not the point... I-I've also been having strrrange things h-happening that I can't account forrr, is what I'm trying to say.”

Shoto's eyes had gone quite wide, clearly surprised and a little elated...as well as worried...that she wasn't the only one these...events...were happening for. When he mentioned the kitten he'd lost, Tora, though, her ears drooped and her expression turned soft and sad with the memory of the poor little thing.

“I understand, I understand,” she said, gently placing her hand on his own. “Honestly, it's kind of...it's kind of a relief to hear I'm not the only one it's happening for! I was wondering if…”

“Yeah, but...Why is it happening, now that we've established it's probably really happening?” Angel murmured, his tail flicking. “It doesn't feel like when, like when my black magic was running rampant. 

A soft, indignant voice whispered coolly in Angel's ears, one only he could hear.

《Hey, now. I don't "run rampant"...anymore.》

'Not now, Anubis,' Angel thought in response.

Purring still in agitation, he shifted a little in his seat. 

"...Sh-Shoto... I hate to suggest.... but... do you think... we should... ask...?" The White Mage trailed off, but nodded to the door a little.

'Should we ask the Ascian?' felt like a question he'd never have thought to ask before now... yet, given their current conversation, it felt like the only question he could ask.

Shoto thought for a moment on Angel's suggestion of consulting with Emet-Selch. As much as she didn't like to admit it, he might be the only one who could understand these strange little happenstances. And, as she'd been admitting to herself in the bath, there was a connection...between these odd little events, these flowers and little animal guests, and the memory of the Amaurotine woman the Echo had shown her. The memory of Azem. They felt the same, and they felt similar to the emotions she'd felt flowing from the Ascian himself, too.

There was no guarantee he'd help them, of course. She could always try to remind him he owed her for healing him…? But even if it was a shot in the dark, it was better than nothing. 

And as a side benefit, it neatly put off having to explain the wounded Ascian in her room to all and sundry.

"Well...I don't have a better plan. We can try."