"So, what do you think?" I open up, trying to break the ice that's crept up between the two of us.
After my little reveal, Gerome pulled Subaki over for something. Caeldori stood between me and her grandmother for a minute, then slunk away after neither of us spoke. So I dragged Mother back up the hill, and both of us were up next to Minerva again. The overgrown purse bag was sleeping. At least, I think so. She hasn't moved since we came up here.
Wind's picking up a bit. The blades of grass up here are swaying pretty harshly. Here you can see over the trees pretty well, but not much in the forest. Good enough for a forward camp, but not so much for scouting. What I'd give for a bit of clearance in this place, but Roseanne seems to be completely covered in lumber.
I've never seen my Mom this dumbfounded. Wasn't the intended effect but, the look on her face is so enriching. It's been five years since I've gotten to mess with her, and I'm already getting a head start.
Can't go too far though. I can save the real fun for once we're settled in.
I walk back in front of her, gripping her arms in my hands. "Look, I know this is really strange. Like, even by our standards. But there's a perfectly logical explanation."
"To how I'm a thirty year old grandmother?" Mom replies, her gaze remaining fixed on Caeldori as she went down the line checking on the troops.
I scoff, numb to the how odd everything is at this point. "You already have two twenty-something daughters, is this really that weird?"
Mother sighs, the beginnings of her crow's feet stretching their talons. "No, I suppose it isn't. But let me guess, it has something to do with a dragon?"
"...Yeah." I tell her, twisting my foot in the dirt.
"Then that's enough explanation for me." Mom assures, either because she doesn't want to know the details or she doesn't think this is the time and place.
Her eyes haven't moved an inch off of my little girl this whole time.
"She has a beautiful soul. You can feel her presence all the way up here. From the moment I laid eyes on her I could sense something was special." She assesses.
"You mean other than the fact that you both look the same?" I asked.
She shakes her head. "Not exactly. Her flying technique is impeccable, but not a style I'm familiar with. Anyone can tell that she has natural talent. She's experienced as well, but not a veteran. Still has much to learn."
"You got that all from one flight?" I ask again, surprised how she's able to digest all of this in such a short amount of time.
"Remember what my job is, pumpkin." Mother reminds me. She doesn't have to, the rank ribbons hanging off her armor tell everyone that she's someone important. Mine looks barren in comparison, just the armor and outfit beneath everything.
"Fine." I relent. "So what's your verdict?"
"...She'd be a fine addition to the regiment. Could easily become a squad leader in a year."
"Not as a soldier, Mother. As a person."
She takes a long breath, trying to sort out her thoughts into something I can understand. There's a lot there, behind the eyes there isn't any stable emotion.
"...She's more like you than I. Physically, yes, we're almost twins. But…"
Mother stops talking, lifting a finger to point in Caeldori's direction while she marches to the next group. "See how she walks? It's brisk and tense, always expecting something to happen. And pay attention to how she looks at people when speaking."
I do just that, waiting for her to engage in conversation with another person on the line.
"What am I looking for?" I ask as she begins conversing with a pikeman. Only side of her face is visible, and I can't make out what either of them is saying this far falls back into a parade rest, hands locked behind her back.
"Her eyes harden up. Behind her expression she's judging everyone." She tells me, taking pause before delving deeper. "Not in a malicious way, mind. More like she's… trying to understand them."
I keep watching, trying to catch traces of whatever she's going on about. I can't see it, but Mom's hinting that she got it from me. Maybe I'm just too used to that outlook to notice it.
"Did Miriel teach you how to psycho-analyse people while I was gone?" I ask, half joking. Laurent's mother always had an uncanny ability to tell what made people tick, even if she didn't understand why it made them tick that way.
Mom laughs at the idea. She drops her soldier's posture and smiles, letting herself relax as we both stand in the middle of a war zone. It's something I was never able to do, I walked on a knife's edge even outside of combat.
"In conclusion, she seems like a lovely girl who puts far too much on her own shoulders." Mother surmised. "It's… hard to believe that I'm really a Grandmother. But as you said, this is quite strange."
I breathe a sigh of relief. She doesn't hate her, good. After that standoff I was worried something had happened between them both when she'd gone to get help. But maybe that was just the initial shock of being told she's a granny.
That's one thing settled.
"...You're probably wondering why I didn't write." I comment, averting my eyes away from her general direction.
"I am, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready." Mother assures, not pushing me into any long winded discussion as to why I've been avoiding her these past few months. She's always been good at that, pressing me when I need to be pressed and giving me space when I want to be left alone.
"Yeah. Yeah, I will once we're safe." I promise. "But… in the meantime, could you go talk with Caeldori and Subaki?"
I can feel her eyes focus in on me before I even turn back to look. My hands pop up defensively, trying to shield myself. "N-not that I'm trying to get you to leave! I just…" I fumble, trying to find the words to explain what I want. "...I want you to get to know them. They're both amazing people, Mom."
She keeps looking at me, radiating mirth. I feel like there's a thousand eyes melting me into the ground. What's got her in such a good mood?
"I swear, this is the longest you've gone without berating or insulting someone." She jabs, my arms dropping limp. Her giggle fills the air, before she comes over and takes my hands. "And what are you going to do, dear? Hopefully not stand here and sulk as usual."
"I don't sulk!" I protest immediately, feeling my face get warm as I start tearing back. "Why do you care, anyway?! What I do isn't your damn business!"
Mother just giggles even more, clearly enjoying how much of a hard time she's giving me.
"There's my little girl." She croons, lifting her hands up to straighten out my hair. "Even though you're all grown up, don't think I can't read you like a book."
I groan, but don't resist, letting her make myself look a bit more presentable after the long day I've had. Even if she's treating me like I'm a kid again, even if she's doting on me like I never left.
Maybe it's good that some things haven't changed.
Things are pretty quiet for the next half-hour.
The people on guard duty have been keeping the risen at bay pretty well. We send platoons of people out at a time, searching for anyone who's missing and bringing them back where it's safe… -ish. The situation's getting stable, now. But it's still pretty bad.
Mom and Sumia tell me it'll be a while until the rest of the pegasus knights arrive. Until then, I'm sitting alone next to Minerva while trying to plan this all out. The map's opened up in my lap and I'm twirling a quill between my fingers.
Our hovel is about forty minutes to the east of the main camp. I've already had the infantry break out the shovels and start digging trench-lines along the outside. Headcount puts our numbers at about three hundred and fifty. That isn't including the Valentians we took in.
It's tricky. We need to last long enough for help to arrive, but we also can't let the risen just walk right past us and hit the camp. What sucks is that every time I try to lead them away in the other direction, they always start marching back west.
So if we can't make them leave, and we can't let them pass, then we need to take them out. Not possible with our current forces.
Once the fliers are here though…
If they can just keep the packs separated, I can send groups of my people out to surround those smaller gatherings. Enough to take them out, then pull back. Repeat that over and over again until their numbers dwindle. Then we can pull back to camp and get the wounded treated.
But that doesn't shake the pit in my stomach. Something is making them keep coming towards us. As long as that's out there, more'll come. Maybe not now, but soon.
Ugh. Come on, Sev. You've spent your life hunting these freaks, don't lose your cool.
"Keeping the archers in reserve only makes us more outnumbered." Someone tells me, the sudden sound making lose my grip.
As I pick my quill up from the grass, and look up to see a tall man that looks vaguely familiar. He's wearing a thick brown and green padded vest, fluffy brown hair and sharp green eyes. Extremely defined jawline, not a mark on his skin. His posture's straight, but it's not prissy either.
I realize who it is, and remind myself to stop undressing the people who want to kill me with my eyes.
"What happened to your armor?" I ask him, rolling the map back up so he can't see more than he already has.
"Ruined in the last risen raid." Moltke laments, adjusting the cuff-link over his wrist. "Thankfully we dispatched them without losses."
"Good to hear your people are holding their own." I tell the Valentian genuinely. Don't know why, it'd make my life a lot easier if they got themselves killed. But for some reason I decided to be hospitable.
"We are not, frankly. If we were alone out here, we would have likely perished hours ago." The Lieutenant answers, keeping himself focused on me. "Regardless, you requested my presence Major?"
I grunt, patting the grass next to me and spinning around so we're facing one another. He sits without any protest.
"So. Situation aside, you're still my prisoner." I begin, ignoring the horn call that blares out at the base of the hill. "I fully intend to take you back to our camp when this is over."
"As I expected. We're allies only by circumstance." He tells me, validating it for me as well as himself. After our last spat, he probably has an itch to run me through.
I roll with it, not really wanting to waste time on getting him on my side. "Great. In the spirit of that, I have some questions you're going to be answering."
"You mean to interrogate me?" He asks, bewildered, before suring himself up and shaking his head. "I refuse. As a Knight of the One Kingdom, I will not sully my honor by betraying knowledge that has been privileged to m-"
He stopped talking as I clenched my right hand into a fist. Ignis ignites, the Brand burning back alive once more. Purple, translucent flames dance all over my glove.
"Sorry, say that again? You were monologuing and I stopped giving a damn." I hiss, trying to replicate the voice from my head. If I can't hide this mark anymore, then I'm gonna at least use it to get what I want.
His bluster fades as my threat registers, and Moltke becomes far more docile.
"That's what I thought." I hum, letting the flames die. "I don't care about your battle plans anyway, with the Risen here I'm sure your General's already scrapped everything."
He's unresponsive, so I snap my fingers in his face. "Hey, hey. Pretty boy! Eyes here!"
Moltke stumbles back into consciousness, and I can finally get some answers.
"We'll start with the basics. You said your home only recently joined up with the Valentians, right?"
"Correct." He answers quickly.
"Why." I demand.
"Stability." Moltke readily informs. "By joining the One Kingdom, we gained access to her resources. My homeland's trade routes are guarded now, and they've readily partaken in rebuilding the damage left behind."
"You told me the Risen have never made it this far south before." I recall.
"Not the Risen. The Civil War." He tells me, adjusting his legs for a better seat. "With Walhart's fall, the old dynasts quickly returned to their old habits. People all over Valm began kill each other for the Empire's scraps. Our homes were already damaged due to the Ylissean League's invasion… after that we destroyed all that remained."
I sigh, thinking back to the end of our Valmese campaign. Chrom didn't want to stick around once Walhart had been killed. The way he saw it, any action we took would just seem like we were trying to form our own Empire. So, after Say'ri got crowned and everyone was accounted for, we left. Decided to leave this continent's destiny in its own hands.
The whole place was ready for a power vacuum. We were so scared of helping, we hurt them more than we ever wanted.
"Some nations were spared the conflicts." Moltke recalled. "Chon'sin, Roseanne and Zofia namely. But most of us were left floundering in the Conqueror's wake."
"Guess that explains why you're all so keen to follow his heir." I observe.
"That is part of it." He admits. "However… King Albein is not like his forefathers."
Yet another vote of confidence for this guy. "I've heard a lot of people tell me that, and yet no one's explained why."
"For starters, no one here is conscripted. Every soldier you see is a paid volunteer." He explains. "The One Kingdom decriminalized the Church of Valm, we were allowed to worship Naga and Duma again."
Another god who's name I don't know, but I don't want to interrupt his speech.
"They sent gold and workers to repair our lands, and not once have their soldiers bared arms against our citizenry." Moltke wraps up, letting me speak in turn.
"He's still annexing other countries by force." I reply.
My counterpart becomes conflicted, his brain working overtime as he tries to rationalize this. "...I will be honest with you, Major Volkner. Roseanne is the only nation I know of that we've invaded."
"What?" I ask, stunned.
"Every other vassal state joined willingly." He reveals. "Two years ago, Roseanne refused membership. The King lamented, but he issued a proclamation saying that we would leave the Duchy be."
"So he lied." I quickly rationalize. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to look like the good guy while holding a knife behind their back.
Moltke just shakes his head. "No. I fully believe he wasn't planning to attack from the onset. My own regiment was originally garrisoned in the north, defending the frontier. It was only recently that this invasion was cobbled together-"
He quickly shuts up again, but his wording gives away far too much. 'Cobbled together', so the army we're facing already isn't that organized. Their lack of good equipment reinforces that, which also means that their logistics are also probably a mess.
But then there's everything else adding together. The people in Nellis willingly allowing soldiers to take over their homes, Beril's violent rejection of Walhart, and now Moltke saying no one else
has been attacked.
All of that, magically happening just as the Risen rear their ugly faces back up. Cherche's theory now sounds like reality to me.
Something. Someone, changed the status quo. Someone's trying to cause another war in Valm.
"We're being played." I mutter.
"Come again?" Moltke asks.
"If everything you're saying is true, then your King would've never invaded Roseanne. It seems completely out of character for him." I say.
"Many of us were confused with the sudden shift in policy, but we didn't wish to question orders." Moltke answers in agreement.
Not questioning authority feels especially weird, given the past. "They didn't give you a reason why?"
Again, Moltke takes pause, choosing his words carefully before speaking. "...There had been rumors of your troops raiding our villages. Someone said they'd found the body of a man wearing Roseanne's uniform in the ashes."
"That'd doesn't make sense." I declare outright. "Virion wouldn't attack another country. He definitely wouldn't have his soldiers kill innocent farmers."
"I am inclined to believe you. From the discussions I've had with your men, none of them understand why we are even here." He answers, chafing under the duality of our situation. "At first I believed it was because their leaders were hiding the truth."
"Gee, thanks." I mutter. Even if that's literally what I was thinking five seconds ago.
"But this conversation has been quite enlightening." He amends. "Unless you're lying to me."
"If Virion was the kind of man who'd do what you're accusing him of, my country would've never come to his aid." I say again, feeling the urge to defend the Duke and my home. "We're only here because he's a good man."
"Hm." Another pause. "...Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Ylisse is known for being morally just."
His eyes shift down, then. Squaring themselves on the back of my right hand. "That being said, they allowed Grimleal into their officer corps."
"I'm not-" I groan, not wanting to go through this song and dance for the umpteenth time. "Look. I'm not the most religious person out there, but I'm in Naga's camp."
I remove my glove, letting him see the dull purple brand. "This… thing on my hand? I was born with it. It's a birthmark, not a tattoo."
His eyes focus deeper onto mark. Looking closer, he can probably see how the purple on my hand is skin instead of ink. Pores and lines run through it like it's always been there. Because it has always been there.
He sighs, but looks back up at me. "I shall give you the benefit of the doubt, fellblood. You've earned that much."
"Thank you." I tell him honestly. In the spirit of kindness, I try to give him some in return.. "And I'm sorry for… all the threats."
He shook his head back and forth, like he couldn't believe he was saying this. "Yesterday we were all trying to kill one another, I can forgive lingering distrust."
"Then you're a better person than me." I tell him, offering him the hand as I stand back up on my own two feet. He takes it, and I heft him alongside me. From the corner of my eye, I see Cynthia darting her way up here.
What happened now?
"Get the wounded behind the line!" Subaki yells, motioning for the defenses to break free and make an opening.
Another blob of survivors found their way back here. Even this long after we were scattered, smaller groups have been trickling in piece by piece. Two or three people a part, covered in muck and scared beyond belief.
This one's really bad though, larger than usual and everyone's broken in some way. Not just hurt, but the way they look in their eyes is almost inhuman. It's a larger mosh, about ten of them. But they didn't find much strength in numbers.
The burns are what weird me out. I didn't see any undead mages before, and we can't really fight against them now.
As they're dragged back and set up in the safest place possible, I hear mother and Sumia take off towards the sky. Something's gotten their mounts' attention. Meanwhile Cynthia and I assess the damage. Six of them laying down next to one another. We go down the line, seeing what we can do.
First one's got their legs missing. Yes, legs, plural. Never seen normal risen do that before either, but today's been a back to school session. Stopped the bleeding, but there's a fifty-fifty chance they'll survive shock.
Next one's missing an eye, and the rest of the right side of her face. That much I can save, even if she'll be a freak of nature for the rest of her life.
Cynthia's got the other three, so I go on a knee and check this last boy. Leaning close, I see that it's none other than my old insubordinate punching bag.
Vincent's got claw-marks going all the way down from his neck to his crotch. I can see the lining of his ribcage, his armor's completely ruined. Somehow, he didn't bleed out on the way here. But he is bleeding, and his guts're exposed to the world. We don't have water here to keep them moist.
Cynthia trots over, going green as she sees the state the backwater nobleman's in. I roll my eyes, never understood how she hasn't built an immunity to this stuff. But she reels it back in, and tries to activate her stave.
My hand clamps down on the orb, shaking my head. "Don't."
"But he's-"
"Already dead, and I'm not wasting medical supplies on a corpse." I inform her coldly, before pointing back towards her own patients. "Are they good to go?"
"They're alright…" She says, volume dropping as I condemn the kid to the afterlife. Her gaze doesn't shift away from him, just staying squared on his faintly rising and lowering chest.
"Then get them back to their platoon and on the line." I order. She still doesn't budge, so I step in front of her to break line of sight. She gasps at the sudden motion, dazed, before she turns around and slowly starts to move away again.
Vincent starts coughing as she leaves.
I return to my previous posture, looking the kid in the face. Hard to believe the snot-nosed runt I beat to a pulp's this same kid I see now. The look in his eyes is the same as it was in that spar, scared. He knows as much as anyone he won't last the hour.
Like last time, I pull out my canteen and give it a shake. He tries to open his mouth as best he can, and I waterfall what's left into his mouth. Half of it splashes off his cheeks and goes onto the ground, but enough seems to make it in. He coughs again, water probably going down the wrong pipe.
"I can get a Cleric." I tell him, screwing the cap back on. "Last rites, if you care about those things."
Vincent nods, but opens his mouth again. Instead of taking stuff in, words come out. Soft and faint. Quiet enough that I've got to put my ear close so I can make it out.
'Safehouse' and 'farm' is all I understand. The rest is too garbled to make sense of.
At some point, he stops talking. I can see him blink and breathe, but I think forming words is too hard for him now. So I stand back up, turn around and leave to find a Cleric.
'You should've killed him.' The voice rings out in my head.
I scoff. 'Why, so you can finish the job from last time?'
'...He doesn't deserve to suffer.' It answers, making me halt in my step. For the first time since this thing's dug itself into my brain, it actually said something human. I shake it out of my mind, not wanting to give my insanity more of a stage than it's already stolen.
He doesn't deserve to suffer. But he doesn't deserve to die, period.
Mother and Sumia touch back down on top of the hill. Caeldori and I both run up so we can see what made them fly off.
As we make our way to the top, we see that a third pegasus is there with them. It's laden with supplies, extra staves and first aid kits hanging wildly off the saddle. Along with stuff I recognize. Maps, a fire tome, some ration bars. Getting out of the saddle it's a scruffy blonde… Priest?
Holy crow it's Percy.
"Percival!" Caeldori cries, her speed doubling mine as she sprints up the hill. My daughter practically shoves her grandmother out of the way, instantly going to the healer and tackle-hugging him.
Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay, that's setting off a million alarm bells.
'We're killing him.' The voice tells me.
'Agreed.' I think back.
I keep going, moving past my two seniors and ignoring my two juniors as the former tries to get my attention and the latter are trapped in their own discussion. Instead I stop in front of the Pegasus, hands on my hips.
Just as I suspected, Camus.
The little shit snorts, air blowing out of his nose. I'm probably fuming, because I can tell he's wondering why I'm so upset. As if he doesn't know, abandoning me here for hours on end. My hand goes up and I grab his ear, twisting it and pulling him close so my eyes are boring right into his.
He still doesn't see the problem. If anything he's getting angry with ME. Like I'm the one who did something wrong. Not him, leaving without telling me why or if he'd even come back. Along with all my supplies, charts, extra rations. No, no. He just comes and goes as he pleases! Not like we're supposed to be partners or anything! I'm the one who's being irrational!
Then it hits me.
...I'm having a mental argument, about a relationship with a horse.
This is, officially, the stupidest thing I've ever done.
"Er, Severa?" I hear Sumia ask. "Why are you standing off with that pegasus?"
I turn to see both her most Serene Stumbleness and my Mother looking at me like I'm a basket case. They're not wrong with that assessment, doesn't mean I'm not offended.
"Because, he's a feather plucked jerk." I tell them, giving his ear another sharp yank. He doesn't seem to feel it, but Sumia clearly gets more upset I keep manhandling him. Mother just watches on, frowning in disapproval but not making a scene of it.
"Ugh, alright." I groan, releasing my grip on him before giving his snout a pat. "Mom, Auntie, meet my fleabag of a partner." Yet again, Camus whinnies as he's mentioned. I shoot him a look to pipe down, but it isn't like he's gonna start listening to me now.
"He's quite vocal." Mother observes.
"I've never seen this coat before." Sumia muses, walking forward and running her hand along Camus' dark orange fur. "It's not native to Valm or Archenea."
"Well, I found him here. So he's probably from one of the local islands or something." I brush off, not really interested in knowing where my living nightmare came from. Right now he's on cloud nine though, with Aunt Sumia rubbing the back of his neck and whispering into his ear. Gods, she has an almost creepy effect on animals.
Mother stays back, in fact her mood seems to worsen as something comes back to her. "Explains what you're doing in that armor." She questions.
Confused, I look down at my outfit. Her tone becomes eerily similar to how she spoke to me before I left, when she was putting me through hell with all the Knight drills. When she stops being my Mother and starts being the Captain.
Before I can ask why, Caeldori hops up next to us. I can barely make out Percy already running down the hillside. Opting to not further my mother's discontent, I decided to switch out this conversation with one that won't leave me stewing in inferiority.
"Where's Percy going?" I ask, silently lamenting that I won't be able to give him a piece of my mind.
"He's going to try and help the injured." She tells me, gesturing over to Camus. "Apparently, our friend here flew all the way back to base. Percy was able to figure out something was wrong, so he saddled up with as many supplies as he could and flew back."
"Awww, what a smart wittle guy…" I hear Sumia croon, along with hearing myself gag.
Great, now I need to thank him for ditching me. Could this day get any more demeaning?
I go back over to Camus, shooting him one last dirty look before digging around in my satchel to pull out a map.
The one I've been using up until now was really Moltke's, I just stole it from him when we took the prisoners. This one's a lot more detailed, all of the patrol routes and checkpoints I had planned out are doodled across. Of course all that planning's useless, now. But I'm not interested in the plans.
Instead I keep scanning around, further and further. Until I find it. Renais Homestead, a big crop farm a little bit to the north. Vincent's last words come back to mind.
"Mom. Can you take Caeldori somewhere real fast?" I ask.
Both of them, along with Sumia, move over to get a better understanding of what I'm saying. I tilt the map forwards, pressing my finger to the large rectangular place cut out. "It's about a twenty minute flight. Way, way too far for footmen or horses."
"Very much so." Mother muses, she's probably double-checking the math in her head. "We could go there, but why?"
"One of my men said something about a farm." I explain, rolling the parchment up and stuffing it back into the saddle. "It was important enough that he needed to tell me while he was choking on his own blood."
"Rather grizzly image." Mother notes, Sumia and Caeldori also going about as green as Cynthia did before. Still, she nods agreeing. "Alright, we'll go. But you're coming with us."
"Uh… Mom. I've kind of got, y'know…" I point down the hill, towards all of the soldiers I'm supposed to be commanding. "It's just a scouting mission, I can't leave my people."
"I'll watch over them while you're gone." Sumia offers. Before I can tell her otherwise, Mother speaks up again
"That sounds like a great idea, thank you Sumia." She says, smirking. Both of them on the same wavelength, trying to get me to go along on this errand.
"Wait, wait! I didn't agree to go!" I start protesting.
"Then consider it a royal order." Sumia tells me. Again, I open my mouth to try and protest against this, but all I get in response is one of her blood-freezing glares.
I shut up then and there. Not many people know this, but Cynthia's mother is terrifying when she wants to be.
A/N: Two months later...
Yeah I haven't really been following my schedule well, have I? Originally this chapter was going to be a bit longer, but I've decided to parse it so I can post something instead of waiting until the end of December.
Anyway, uh, I was NOT expecting the response that I got from last chapter. Easily the most reviews I've ever gotten in one sitting. So in the spirit of such, I'll get some responses out as usual.
Sigmatic: *Bows*
CrusaderJerome: Well, I'm glad I can make the most of this serial method. I try to do a mix of giving enough information that people feel satisfied, while also dangling things at the end to keep them invested in the next chapter.
Dandaman5: Pulled a sneak on ya didn't I?
severak: You're closer than you think. Next chapter, you'll see.
MidnightToDusk: Glad you're enjoying yourself! A lot of people do ship Odin and Elise. Sadly, I'm not among the crowd, but I see why. I'm gonna keep Owain and Inigo's spouses very much in the dark, but they will be outright stated when it becomes relevant. Eventually.
Silver556: They're gonna be getting their own Homecoming stories. Originally, this fic was titled 'Book One'. Decided to change the subscript to Rupture due to it being more fitting.
BrandedKing: You know me, I pride myself on characterization. That and comedic timing.
shorty: Breathe, man, BREATHE
A: Thank you very much
ColdT: And thank YOU very much. Can't believe people like this enough to be making accounts for it!
Ocharlos: The wait's over. From here on out, Cordelia's sticking around. So we get to see more of her dealing with her new role as Grandmother, and the person she's become in this post-Grima world.
Anyway, next chapter is gonna be very plot dense. I feel safe in saying everyone's gonna be quite on edge.
But until then
o/