#flameindream / o1

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // crimson flames danced through the air , bright and beautiful as the dance of the strange creature whose hands bid the flame do its beckoning. a truly wondrous sight. one that stirred old memories from deep within — of ancient fires and a canyon filled with the ghosts of people that were once known... and now , were lost to the sea of time.

how intriguing ... that this performer could stir such deeply buried memories. . . ( and so on a whim of compulsion , byleth neared the amphitheatre stage when the crowd had begun to thin with the performance's conclusion. )

".... excuse me," she ventured , stilling just shy "i wanted to tell you that your dancing is beautiful. i'm ... not certain i have ever seen such mastery over flame before."

@flameindream

[mischiefmodig]

God of mischief, Man of chaos. Born seemingly of the unpredictable, uncontrollable winds and ways that had befallen the universe since its very birth. Lover of the darkness ( searching for the light within ).

Loki had been doing as he was often known among palace engagements, merely observing from the shadows. To him, this was merely a civilization akin to Midgard, but none of these people acted as that realm. The answers they gave him were tedious, all the same. No, to find what he needed, he must look beyond this realm.

There were those who stood out against the placid scenery. And though are few, they may be what he needs.

One such creature took his fancy. He did recognize the species of his own world, but the moth-like features and graceful steps were certainly intriguing to behold. More than that... it had a divine nature about it.

He took care in his approach, something of his old teachings came forth of how to perform appropriate greetings, despite desiring to remain anywhere away from the festivities. ( Now was not the time to seek his own comfort. )

❝ Excuse me, good sir. ❞ Loki called, smile donning face. Hands clutched behind the back. ❝ I hope you may forgive my intrusion, but I seek to inquire of your origins. In truth, you rather stand out among these mortals. ❞ Surly, the creature already knew that.

@flameindream \ / godly encounter

[magnusmodig]

𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 trawler docks. sea salt sprayed through the air from greyed and tumbling waves afar. from the weather-worn docks it stung at thor's skin from where he stood , arms folded over his chest as his eye took in the sea , the sky , the distant waves — and the barrier islands that kept the sea from storming the coast in the midst of its winter weather.

a gull squawked overhead. then , a gravely voice cut through the current , boisterous and loud from just behind thor , at the longest end of one of the piers.

"allow me to tell ye a legend of this here very coast," said a sailor whose eyes gleamed with mirth as he waved a weathered hand across a small crowd of onlookers. "a myth of the ISLE ITSELF , though th'origins be lost to time."

as the sailor gave room for pause , thor found himself turning his head towards the sound of his booming voice. finding himself intrigued , the asgardian slowly made his way closer , and nestled himself towards the back of the small gathering of mortals that loitered there.

"many a soul did tell of misadventures 'cross the sea , and even just to the cove thare yonder. there be fruit that make ye tongue babble , and labyrinthian ruins would make the lost's knees tremble. but none thus far is quite so intruigin' as the tales o' the fire gem grotto."

@flameindream / hearth's rising !

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // he spoke , and byleth could almost see the sparks of the very imaginative things that fluttered in his very wings. something about the way in which he spoke simply stirred a small wonder in her , though perhaps it was a childish thing to seek and to be amused by. but how could byleth truly help it? for all her years of travel there was very little that could be learned when one's lifetime was spent wielding steel and dagger , and whetting her blade with blood and ashes.

perhaps it was a selfish and a belligerent thing to want to know more about the fanciful things this grimm spoke of. perhaps it was her own mistake. heartless thing that she was , born of those ashes and blood – perhaps indeed she was as unworthy of such wondrous reprieves. ( lately , byleth had become more than certain of at least that much. ) . . . but then byleth's time surrounded by anything OTHER than such fancies had been SHORT — and cut even shorter by the emperor's desire for conquest. ( could she not desire to know something more than war? was that not what dimitri would have wanted for her once ? )

and so , as the flame in her cheeks died down to a manageable burn , she chewed the inside of her cheek before deciding to be selfish just this once.

"so you're a traveling performer , then. is that a 'troupe'?" she asked. half-tempted to cut herself off there , byleth hesitated .... THEN: "what is that like?"

"Ahaha, but such an insightful discussion it was, so hardly can you be blamed!" Grimm lightly shakes his head and chuckles, the note of it lacking judgment. Poor thing, colored so like a dainty red tulip all of a sudden.

If she really was anything akin to him... even in just this short moment, she was already far more pleasant to converse with than most of his kind. In memories harkening back, he can think of very few. Mostly, those memories were full of abrasive, dull, or aggressive beings...

"Byleth Eisner... I shall remember your name. As for myself, I am Troupe Master Grimm—a traveler of dream who shall one day see the whole world, and share with its people the arts of beyond their home. To offer the joys of performance... and hopefully, bestow even a marginal amount of wonder to dour days."

And his other aims beneath the surface left unsaid that mortals could only speculate at, of course.

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // when byleth was a professor at the officer's academy , one of the tasks she had set for herself was helping the monks and acolytes tend to the advice box. there , her students — from all three houses — could send in advice anonymously. ( though byleth was able to pin the writing , and the worries , to a name and a face eventually. ) the questions and concerns all tended to range.

my strength causes my weapons to break after training sessions. do you have a way to remedy this , professor?

it's been a turbulent year . . .

there aren't any REAL GHOSTS at the monastery , are there , professor ?

responding to the plethora of concerns was always difficult , even at the best of times. even when she recognized the penmanship of one of her blue lions , the fear of letting them down was ever-present , hovering just over byleth's own shoulder. but at the end of the day , with a little bit of time , and a lot of patience , SOMETIMES she would catch a smile gracing their faces when her answer was satisfactory.

this ... felt the same. and as she listened to grimm speak , as she watched him parse though his thoughts , byleth settled into the easy rhythm that came with assisting any of her students.

"some do say that potential is a great treasure," she said, "if you need an opinion to make your decision : i think you should pursue this. i think the people here would be receptive to your efforts to learn. you're clearly ... deeply involved with these talents. and you'd likely inspire that same feeling in others , too."

"...I suppose that would stop you," Grimm chuckles. "A fine plan, that sounds like. The more you learn of this place, the more equipped you will be to handle whatever arises. And the guard is a fine place to obtain that knowledge."

The Troupe Master hums a little note, resting his hand back in his lap. He can't ever imagine himself doing anything else, and it was so easy to let himself glide back into familiar routines. But something scratches at him within, the same voice that urges him to constantly hunt for new music, new stories... The one that ushers him away from boredom.

"Hm... Likely will my path mirror that of back home. My dancing, my music, my culture studies. Perhaps I will dip a claw into acting when I have the time. Though..." he brings a thoughtful hand to his chin, "A chance for me to weave something new this would be as well, is it not? A wealth of information I have to pass on after my long years; instruments, singing, dancing, acting... It could be a potential."

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // he was very encouraging. in some ways , it was almost relieving to hear his amiable faith , even if it was BLIND. the fabric of her skirt wound between her thumb and fore-finger. if you desire to teach , then i would say you should . yes , byleth supposed in actuality it really was that simple.

but BATTLE was engraved into her bones. her hands were stained red with bloodshed. now more than ever – as the flames of war continued to consume fódlan somewhere far away from here . . . . byleth wasn't so certain anymore if she was really the best example. ( or if she had ever been. )

. . . swallowing her doubt , she let her own misgivings fan out of her in a long , slow exhale through her nose. grimm , although he was a stranger , MEANT TO GIVE HER COMFORT , and it would be rude to decline it.

"well ," she began, "right now i suppose the only thing really stopping me is a lack of students." it was said with a small laugh half-hidden behind byleth's fingers. "but that is a problem that has a solution , in time. until then , i think i'd like to get to know this world as best as i can , and help safeguard the peace here." she paused. "will you continue to dance here? on the stage?"

Grimm watches as Byleth seems to hesitate equally. A place so far from home where no obligations were clasped upon wrists was as perfect an opportunity as any to decide the course best taken... but then again, one's own mind could sometimes be chains just as iron.

"Law enforcement. Ah, I believe such positions were more commonly called knights or guardians in my world," he muses on the culture difference. The drive to protect was rarely a bad thing, but the way she says it was so... uncertain. And yet it was decisive, so final in that was what Byleth thought she should do. Grimm stares searchingly at her face, as if trying to ascertain what her true dream might be.

"If you desire to teach, then I would say you should!" he amiably speaks up then, patting a hand onto Byleth's shoulder and offering an assuring look to she who seemed miles away in her own thoughts. "Never have I had the time to really devote to teaching, due to running my troupe... but I think it would be fulfilling. Is there something... stopping you from returning to it?"

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // a good question. one that byleth struggled to find the answer to all the same. if life was a great sea , then hers was one that had been long besieged by storm and thunder. large tides of loss and shattered trust had crashed over the bow of the ship a thousand times , drawing cold saltwater rushing into the hull. if time had a direction for her now , she didn't know which way its winds blew. her masts were bent and broken. her sails punctured through.

there was a rhea who was not hers , and yet did not loathe her either. her students were gone. DIMITRI was gone. and alone again in a new sea ( save for darling donald ) , she supposed the reprieve from storm after storm , and wave after wave was a blessing.

perhaps , somehow , sothis had taken mercy on her.

only . . . byleth wasn't so certain she deserved that grace.

"i'm... not sure. i haven't really had the time to think too deeply about it," she settled on the words finally , a deft PIROUETTE around the subject of ASH and SALT. "i think i'd like to teach again one day ... but ... for now it might be more REALISTIC to settle with — they call it LAW ENFORCEMENT in places like these." lithe fingers fiddled with the hem of her back-panel skirt , twisting grey fabric around her finger before tilting her head to one side.

"wielding a blade in hand .... it .... seems to be what i'm BEST SUITED TO."

It was a very different life than most knew—and having a physical place to call home was the oddity to him, rather than that concept being the bugs he surrounded himself with. Grimm had seen countless cultures and views, yet this was the unfamiliar shock he'd been thrown into: a room to call his own that would remain stationary in its place like a tree's great roots, and no family of dark, laughing bugs to speak of, whose spirits lit the night more than a torch ever could.

"A new troupe..." he repeats in musing. "Full of beings from all different worlds. Colorful that would be, would it not? I suppose... I am not quite used to making my way all on my lonesome. So long has it been since it was only me."

Despite it, Grimm wasn't certain if that was the course of action he wanted to take... if he had a choice in the matter, that was. He still was dangerously unaware of the condition his body was in, not to mention where he would even obtain the sheer amount of Nightmare Essence needed for his Ritual... What if this vessel began to die, and he wasn't prepared...? An uncomfortable gulp makes its way down the creature's throat.

"...What of you, Lady Byleth? What path will you seek here?"

[mischiefmodig]

The troupe master asked the same questions that Loki had himself. It was all the more pleasant to converse with someone of the same mind. And it seemed to Loki that the creature was just as pleased... if Loki was reading him correctly. ( it was only a slight challenge with a species of Grimm's facial features )

❝ There is no telling whether we are doomed to wander a broken world, or if they expect us to fix it while these guardians continue to siphon our power. ❞ Even if Grimm had a portion of his restored, that in particular was the only thing Loki could think of as a logical explanation for their plight.

He rolled his shoulders back, attempting to loosen the tension that had built up in his muscles. Loki often got passionate about his reasons.

❝ In any case... I shall be doing everything in my power to expose the truth. ❞ He smiled. ❝ I'm honored to have your aid in such endeavors. We ought to converge once more in these coming weeks to... compare notes once again. ❞

This agreement earns Loki a warm look as Grimm continues to listen to the gathered information, little though it may be. But even that much was helpful to know, for there was surely some riddle buried within the full story.

"Well, is that not curious?" he utters with a higher tone and begins to muse on, "No explanation from the guardians, despite our presence here being undeniably for a reason. Perhaps they feel us not yet ready, or wish us to acclimate before unveiling their grand plan?"

A hand is brought to his chin, the black chitin of his claws so striking against the pale white of his face.

"Do they desire us to fix a mess such as that? Entire lands do not just become cut off. But now here is the true query—is Arcanus the mainland that the rest of the world has been detached from, or is Arcanus a mere sliver that detached from the mainland?"

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // it sounded so similar to her life as a mercenary... and yet nothing like it at all. byleth was used to traveling the long road with very little but the clothes on her back and the supplies carefully stowed away in her saddlebags. jeralt's mercenaries fluctuated , and so in that way , there were only a few who had stayed long enough ( and survived long enough . . .) for her adrift mind to remember their names and faces.

it was nothing like her life at the monastery either. though the time was short , there was STRUCTURE to every hour of the day. a place to return to , and familiar faces all around... but being a teacher , and a speaker of the church or seiros was a humble occupation. lively in its own way ... and with much less revelry.

green eyes scoured grimm's features as his features furrowed into something close to a frown. the way his eyes narrowed , and the fangs of his maw gleamed not with joyous passion any longer ... hm. . . .

yes. he seemed . . . he seemed to have grown disquieted by something.

". . . it all seems different from fódlan. but ... some things are familiar to me all the same." byleth said after a long pause. hands clasped neatly in her lap , the tip of her nail scraped along the edge of her index finger as she thought. then, "maybe you'll be able to make a troupe here after a while. there are more people from other worlds the same as you and me. ...if your dance earlier was made from the things you knew before , i can only imagine what you'll come up with when you've had even more new experiences."

"Yes, indeed! You know not of the word? I simply must rectify that!" Grimm spouts, the mere concept rousing him into excitability as he begins waving his hands in further explanation. "A troupe is a group of theatrical performers of various kinds—we take in all and create many different types of shows, so long as they're willing to dedicate themselves. The Grimm Troupe travels, but a troupe needn't necessarily do so... though that is part of the real fun in it, I find!"

And to be asked of his experiences by someone who seemed to hold a genuine interest set the creature's expression alight with rapture. Grimm clasps his hands together, beginning enthusiastically:

"How shall I describe it...? Well, I'd want not to live any other way. It might be arduous at times, the journey when we decide not to go by magical means... Scarce food can be in the wilds at times, especially when you hit the wastes... then always is there the matter of menacing beasts, which must be fended off—oh, I mind that not so much, for that is akin to a free meal offering itself to us—but despite all that, the joys of life are ever so apparent."

"Indulging in my passions daily, watching my charges tirelessly work and improve at their own... Sitting by the fire every evening to have a well earned dinner with every soul who thought me worthy to follow... Being so blessed that I may visit all the kingdoms of the world and be applauded by endless eyes, to learn of their cultures and incorporate them into our own shows... Preserve what they held dear. And, really I could not leave out our boisterous partying, kehehehe..."

The loquacious Troupe Master finally quiets as a sudden reality whips its way into his head, and the very mirth of which he'd spoken of drains from his face to be replaced by one quite perturbed. The Arcanus Isles was but one place, and no matter how enchanting its streets and forests and waters... it would only ever be one place. What, exactly, did that mean for one who lived for the road and everchanging sights?

[mischiefmodig]

... Loki blinked. A curious turn in the atmosphere for him, though not terribly uncommon ( he rarely trusted any form of flattery. It was not something he engaged with, people flatter when they want something ) he still accepted it in a stride. Smiling returned to his face, happy to continue pleasantries.

❝ Truly, indeed. Good company is hard to find and harder to keep. ❞ Accepting the invitation and the compliment ( Loki was susceptible to it, despite being untrusting. )

❝ Indeed, I have spent a good portion of my time reading the history texts and tomes. ❞ A slight shift into information sharing, but no less pleasant than before. ❝ Evidentially this world used to extend further beyond the borders of this island's coasts. There appear to be two powerful forces working in tandem, that the Aercons worship to some extent. Those who "welcomed" us I am certain hold more answers but they do not answer. ❞

He certainly had tried to pin one of the creatures down in the past, with no success. ❝ I have yet to find answers as to what had occurred. Except that the Aethers become out of sync on occasion... ❞ He paused ever so slightly. it was almost written as a tragedy, and yet one that happened over and over again in a brutal fashion. It was a norm, rather than a rarity - but would it always stay that way?

...So that makes one ally acquired, and one who could be considered his equal at that. That fact sits in Grimm's mind oddly—he was never a fan of other deities, beings who either swept their power across lands without any regard for those who exist there, playing with mortals like dolls... or were so dreadfully boring as to willingly sleep away eons of life. This might be a pleasant first interaction, but only time would tell him the type that this Loki is.

"Much the same do I feel. No fun it is to wander befuddled in a foreign land with no companion to explore it with, isn't that so? Kehehe, but I quite enjoy studying the cultures of the places I visit. You'd be such a lovely one to find my way with," the Troupe Master teases playfully, winking with a little tip of his pointy head.

"But it sounds as if you've gotten a head start. Some clue hidden within the history there must be, don't you think? Did anything about it strike you as suspicious or relevant?"

[mischiefmodig]

Master of dreams and a master of memories. To Loki, a worthy ally had been discovered ( the things they could do, the mischief they could cause ) never mind the thought for now. As it were he knew not of the Insectoid's intentions.

But there was a mote of solidarity between them. Powerful beings rendered near helpless. Loki smiled, something genuine as he was gladded by the offer to accompany him... even though Loki did not need it.

❝ I am truly grateful for your assistance. I've been able to collect a few assets, but surely in such times, allies are far more of a comfort. ❞ and far more valuable to him, though Loki found himself inclined to believe they were equals, hence the choice of words.

❝ The methods I am confident in discerning, but the reasons to which we were summoned elude me. ❞ This realm clearly contained a powerful source of magic. If it is able to summon gods and render them powerless, what aid could they possibly have in need of them?

❝ The history I have read is rather expansive. An entire fully realized civilization. And yet, I have no recollection of its mention in any of the maps of the universe I have previously studied. ❞ Until his magic was restored ( which he was already doubtful of... except that Master Grimm had his. Hopeful he wouldn't become of that ) there was no way for him to search for a rift or wormhole away.

The flame dies out as quickly as it came to exist and he lowers his hand back down beneath wings. Fingers tap against his arms in thought, always clutching information close. How much to reveal? It was likely safe in a world so far away... Details of the Dream Realm couldn't be used to harm him.

"I'd indeed call myself adept at controlling dreams, yes... and correct you would be in assuming it holds a higher purpose. It is a realm of spirits and memory, entwined closely to the beings of the waking plane."

Grimm is interested in the answers that Loki seeks, too. It could potentially lead him closer to regaining what he lost as a result of his arrival... And gaining allies is helpful in a land he may as well call himself lost in.

(Hasn't he already lost enough?)

"Truly? I am... sorry to hear that," Grimm offers genuinely, though if it were him he knows he wouldn't be easily consoled. "Well, limited as I am... If you would have me, I'd not mind joining in your quest. To be in such a position would be an insult as much to me as it is to you. If this place seeks our aid, we could not reasonably do so powerless!"

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // a comical pause. a sudden silence that cut through the space between them — and sooner than naught byleth felt an unfamiliar heat rising up her neck and blooming in her cheeks , hot and rosy as she blinked up at the creature.

"o-oh— my . . . i got so caught up in conversation with you that i was rude in the process. please , forgive me for my negligence." she said , bringing hand to heart and bowing slightly from the waist. "my name is byleth eisner. i'd like to know your name , too , if it isn't too much trouble."

Eyes give a thoughtful look, opening more ever so slightly at the soft light of a magic that caressed with healing power. It certainly wasn't an answer Grimm had been expecting; the spirit of music nurturing magic...

( When his own followers sang, did they sing with love for him? Were any of their promises real? Or was it merely a formality for them? )

Those words from the woman, along with the energy she held... evoked a certain image. Power from faith. Wishes heard and manifested in reality.

"I see... So passion it was not originally, but potential necessity. Fascinating. Yet, you unexpectedly found satisfaction and meaning in it... I find that wonderful. My own quest to understand music and performance was so, so long ago..."

"If it does not impose upon you, I would quite like to hear you sing sometime. Might you bless me with your name?"

[mischiefmodig]

Loki had his doubts. Not so much to the power of this being ( for indeed to be a master of dreams and master of show were marvelous powers to be certain ) but by how he described this particular realm. Dreams were unique to each person, born of memories, experiences, even desires or stories that spur the strange illusions that may only be accessed in sleep.

Perhaps in the case of his acquaintance, it was an ever-present truth that multiple realities may indeed exist after all. How fitting it was to him that each reality he learned of was much more like dreams as he understood.

He watched the flame curiously. A tinge of jealousy sparked within himself ( what were the rules? Why were some gifted power while it was withheld from others. It made no sense ) but he thought better than to make note of his instincts.

❝ I see. You seem to know much about this realm in your world. Do the dreams of your land bow to your will? Surely there is more purpose to a realm of dreams than seeing the lives of those who sleep. ❞ He was curious indeed. For even though he lacked in magic, the divinity of this creature rather fascinated him.

❝ As it were I have been rendered without my sorcery. ❞ And body mortal, but he was not in the business of sharing his weaknesses so openly. ❝ I've yet to understand how the magic in this world works, but I shall receive my answers one way or another and find my magic restored. ❞ He was determined to.

Memory alteration, huh... That was a rather sinister type of magic. Grimm himself was capable of stealing memory (and with such he relieved his followers of their suffering, nourishing himself with their lives as if it were a golden, life sustaining ambrosia), but not altering it in other ways. He notes that as a possibility with this being...

"Perhaps you know it not as the Dream Realm, but it is the very same that all beings visit in sleep. Most simply have no awareness of it—naught but vague memories that fade as surely as the stars at morning."

Grimm raises a palm, a flicker of scarlet flame burning to life there, reflecting the same energy as the creature's eyes. Darkness deep and stygian, bristling with fear.

"Heh... A rare looking thing I seem to be in this land. Mammalian life must be more common in the cosmos. But as for how I have some of my strength still in hand? I... could not say. Upon investigation after my arrival, some of it functioned and some of it did not. Do you lack all of your former ability?"

He gives a quizzical tilt of his head. Had he gotten lucky somehow?

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // why? byleth did her best to give the question serious thought. oh , but that just seemed to be the question that haunted her , was it not? the shadow that lingered just out of reach , the thread she could not unravel , for the silver shine of it was just past her fingertips.

splaying her fingers across her lap , she stared at them idly. soon enough an answer did come , though byleth wasn't certain if it was exactly the sort that her companion was looking for . . .

"originally , it was to better cultivate my white magic," she admitted slowly , still looking down at her hands. briefly , they glowed white-gold in display before she released the feeling. "it's said that hymns would reach the ears of the goddess , who watches over fódlan , where i'm from. professor manuela taught the classes , and i'd wanted my own students to learn , in the case that our medicines ran out on the battlefield."

the irony of it all wasn't lost to her anymore. sothis had always heard , and was closer than the blue sea star appeared. only ... the miracles she worked weren't quite so miraculous as one might suppose in their songs and prayers. not enacted through byleth's hand , anyways.

"i guess i just enjoyed it more than i thought that i would. even when i'm just listening ... when every voice gathers in harmony together , it ... moves me. the faith of everyone gathered in the halls of the cathedral always inspired me to fight for the greatest change."

Grimm smiles at this inquiry, though it's the kind of smile that was a little too far off. One that barely touches the present. He slowly approaches to take a spot near her, the way he moves almost akin to gliding with most of his body hidden beneath wings. Upward he stares at the intricately designed high ceiling, almost wistful.

"Of course. We all must surely have words unspoken, no?" the god responds, though the question is conspicuously left unanswered. He turns his head to regard her once more. "The good professor gave you worthy advice, though I suppose it's something you can only really understand until you feel it for yourself. Tell me, dear, why did you decide to sing in the first place?"

[magnusmodig]

❝  𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐔𝐑. ❞ 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑, 𝐍𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 slight. then , frowning , the asgardian dragged his attention from the insectoid ( a strain of lepidoptera , perhaps ? ) and scoured the gathering of people. some were bold enough to be true beach goers , braving the cold for solace in the wind , the sea and the sand. others were clearly passing from the boardwalk not so far from their station , arms laden with hot street foods and the occasional cheap fairground wares. closest to the outskirts were the tackle-adorned hats of fishermen , who listened to the tale of their youth with nostalgia twinkling within their eyes.

none of them seemed the adventurous sort. merely mortals who found in their hearts that neither one of them were DARING enough to heed the tale and search for the gems for themselves.

but thor was no such mortal. he desired answers , and knew that he would not gain them from remaining IDLE whilst his brother scoured texts from the rise and fall of this realm's sun each day. when the sailor ended his tale , and the crowd - fulfilled of their midday entertainment - began to scatter , thor waited only long enough to decide himself the best course of action: walking straight up to the sailor as though he had every right and reason for being there.

❝  you tell a fine tale , my friend. though the sea crests and falls within your veins , you may well make good coin as a spinster of stories. from where did you hear this one? ❞

the sailor grinned , wrinkles forming beside grey eyes. "'tis a tale passed from generation t'generation t'those who make their coin right 'ere on these fair waters."

thor looked up from the sailor to the sea , misty and vast. the cold winter winds tousled with the waters beneath its fair wing. thor could almost hear the impish gale tittering away as the grey waves snapped up to meet it.

"some days 'r fairer than others."

❝  aye. and the .... crystals... ❞

"gems."

❝  gems. you say they are found beneath those shores? there? ❞ he pointed towards the coastal islands that dotted the far perimeter of the isle. the sailor grinned and nodded. ❝  do they spawn anywhere else? ❞

"the only place you'd find them beauties be with th'readin' woman lumin cinder. but you ain't gonna get her t'part with 'em."

Despite the similarities of the general feel, none of the contents of this tale are very familiar to him—the names, the magic. The locals often used the terms, but...

The Troupe Master subtly turns his head to eye the stranger the moment a voice sounds besides him. It was a worthwhile question, one that the sailor neglected to speak the answer to. A story with mystery would bring folks coming back to hear, after all, entranced by the whimsical idea of knowing more.

"Difficult to say..." Grimm responds, quiet at first to listen if the sailor would say more. "The term 'fire gem' implies some connection to flame, but as for how it might protect—light, perhaps?"

The thought takes his mind elsewhere, the sound of the crowd fading out as he brought eyes up to stare through the people in front of him. Bittersweet memories held in scarlet of carving his own protective charms of flame... gifts for those special friends they'd likely never cross paths with again, and... his final blessing to those who chose to leave him for whatever brighter pasture they sought.

"...I suppose no way is there to know unless we catch sight of one for ourselves."

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // byleth watched ( and listened ) with an almost childlike fascination to the tale that the creature wove. to speak what cannot be spoken / to see what cannot be seen. perhaps THAT was what had drawn her to his performance? or perhaps that is what she saw in the crimson flames he had held aloft.

( a tale of flame &. dance . a memory that lingered just at the edges of her mind , flickering like candlelight — of a city she could never quite place , of beloved ones she could not name , nor recall the details of their faces. or perhaps not she , but another. though then... they were as one. )

"professor manuela used to say a similar thing. she always tried to be sure that i 'sang from my heart'. i always assumed it was just because that was what she had to do when she worked at the opera. but i guess i was mistaken. it seems a lot more complicated than just that." a lithe hand flit to her chin , and curled in a small fist just over her lips. there were some things that still eluded her. like seeing what cannot be seen.

byleth sighed , and then hoisted herself atop the amphitheater's stage until she was seated delicately at the edge. "— what were you dancing for , then? did you also have words you hadn't spoken?"

The Troupe Master listens thoughtfully to this anecdote of someone she clearly held in high regard. An opera singer... a genre that truly captured the essence of mortals, in his opinion. To hear of someone handing that love to another who hadn't truly known it before then... it sets a warmth in his chest.

But the admittance from her then earns a laugh from the creature, the kind of fond laugh you make upon seeing someone reach out for a dream.

"Now that is the conundrum, is it not? How do we show that which cannot be seen? Speak what cannot be spoken?" Grimm puzzles, standing up straight and letting his head fall to the side. "Those forms of art in particular use one's body as the delivering instrument, and thus easier you may see it. Look closely enough... and every inch of tension you'll spy, every sliver of what's hidden forced to the front. A microcosm of one's being, gifted life for but a short moment—captured, held there, and then released. In that, when it comes from the heart... That is when I believe a soul is most visible."

He holds out a clawed hand, slowly opening it palm upward as if to demonstrate the flowing of that energy being let go.