"So," Velvet opened their discussion calmy, arms crossed and leaned back in her chair, "we have an in. You already made contact with them yesterday and we could place someone right with them."

Laphi mimicked her posture and cast a doubtful look back. "We don't know if I can bond with him," he argued. "I don't want to bond with him even if I can, and no matter who we put next to them will get direct attention from our target." He almost counted the points off his fingers, much to Velvet's annoyance.

"You're not wrong," she finally allowed. "It would be good to have someone on the inside, but the only person I'd trust with that is Eizen." Who was unavailable for draconic reasons. She sighed. "So our best option is to stay in the background and have the Bloodwings keep an eye on him, maybe help him out or give him nudges from time to time." A moment passed as neither sibling voiced disagreements or additions, which prompted another sigh from Velvet. "This was a shorter discussion than I expected. Do we have anything else important?"

"In a way." Laphi sorted some papers he had prepared. "Marlind reported more Malevolence recently... and Rohan is missing."

"Rohan, that was... the lord of the land there?"

He nodded. "The one. The problem with him being missing is that a drake was sighted near the city." The two of them exchanged grimaces, the implications of that timing clear.

However, Velvet raised a finger in thought to get her brother's attention. "I never heard about drakes before. How are they different from dragons?"

"No one told you?" She shook her head and Laphi frowned. "Odd. It's a more recent differentiation. A drake is basically an in-between stage between seraph and dragon. From what the others told me, they can still be cleansed but only until they grow into proper dragons. You didn't see many in our time because you couldn't tell; maybe some others you saw were actually drakes, not that anyone would see any differences before Maotelus and the silver flame appeared." He paused for a moment to make sure Velvet understood, then returned to the actual subject. "Either way, I will let them know to stay out of danger zones and be careful; we can leave this be unless he turns into a full dragon. Marlind is not too far from Ladylake, so that might give us a better idea of Sorey's capability."

"Agreed. Anything else?"

Laphi consulted his notes again. "Well, next up would be Aifread asking for intel about Rolance's trade routes and knight presences around Zaphgott Moor." Velvet inclined her head, being familiar with that subject by now.

Elsewhere, Sorey was wandering Ladylake with Lailah and Alisha. Mikleo made himself scarce the previous day and he was a little worried about where his brother went, but kept it to himself. He had other, more direct problems to occupy his mind anyway; such as how the people respectuflly bowed out of his way wherever he went. "I have to say," he told his companions after a while, "this feels kinda weird."

Lailah merely wore a lenient smile, a weaker version of which Alisha offered him as well. "It is something you will get used to," the princess told him gently. "You are the shepherd now, which affords you some of the respect earned by every shepherd before you from the start. Just smile and keep going."

He tried to heed her advice, but his face felt weirdly stretched the whole time. Yet people seemed happy enough with the whole affair, so he kept his thoughts to himself. It worked quite well and they traversed a good bit of Ladylake before someone did not move out of the way. Sorey, being in the lead, failed to notice Alisha's resignated slump. He moved toward the old woman and made to walk around her, but she stepped along and smiled up at him. "There you are, my boy! Ah, it's been so long!"

He stopped, dumbfounded. "Uhh..."

Vivid green eyes peered up at him and instead of reacting to his confused noise, she clapped her hands. "My, you've grown into such a fine young man, and so handsome," she praised before leaning to the side and taking in Alisha, her smile unwavering. "And you found yourself such a beautiful wife, too!"

This misunderstanding was growing ever worse, yet Sorey had no idea how to respond; he just stared and tried to come up with something. The suppressed chuckling around them did not help, especially when he heard another clap from behind followed by Lailah calling out: "I had no idea, congratulations, Sorey!"

Alisha kept strangely quiet until that point, but he did not want to be rude and turn around. She then spoke with her usual friendliness, though: "Hello, granny. I was just showing the shepherd around town."

If she had hoped to defuse the situation, she hoped in vain; the elder just beamed at him. "My my, you became shepherd? That's my grandson for you! Come, come, a shepherd needs to eat a proper meal!" A wrinkled hand grabbed for his and took it firmly, calloused by a long life. The old woman began to pull him along. "And no one cooks better than granny!" she finished eagerly. Confused as well as uncertain, he let himself be led; Alisha caught up to his side and threw him an apologeptic look. All around them, people were wearing exasperated smiles or shaking their heads. Some still tried not to laugh at his predicament, others had given up.

He managed to get a hold of his embarassment and wonder, but not before he was already through several streets and sat down at a stranger's table. Granny's cheerful hums sounded from the next room and his two companions were seated beside him. "What just happened?" he could not help but ask them quietly.

Lailah chuckled, but Alisha let out a soft sigh. "I am truly sorry for not warning you," she whispered back. "I did not expect for us to encounter granny Nica today." A glance went to the kitchen to make sure the elder was not paying attention to them. "Her memory is not the best and she keeps mixing up her grandchildren every once in a while. It happened to me several times before." She shrugged helplessly, but at least Sorey understood now.

Accepting his fate, he relaxed a little into the chair. "I guess it's fine then. I don't like pretending, but if it makes her happy..." He did not finish the sentence, but Alisha seemed to share his exact feelings on the matter.

They were interrupted by granny shuffling back in to set the table. Four plates were placed, one in front of Lailah, to Alisha's initial confusion. The lady seraph threw Nica a knowing smile, though Sorey failed to notice; his eyes were drawn to the bookshelf in the room's back. This, however, the elder took note of before giving him a pat on the head. "Heh, you were always an avid reader. Help yourself, my boy; the food will take a little while."

His previous thoughts forgotten, Sorey immediately stood and strolled over to the font of knowledge. His eyes were wide in wonder as he browsed through the titles and worn spines, focussed to the point he did not even notice Alisha following him. Sorey quickly found a well-read copy of the Celestial Record, his own favourite book. "Look," he told his companion excitedly while holding it up so Lailah could see it from her seat, "granny has one, too!"

Both of them chuckled for some reason, mouths hidden behind their hands. He paid them no mind and carefully put the book back; he had his own copy after all. Alisha stepped next to him to peruse the old lady's books, pulling one out of the middle and looking at it; Sorey did not pay much mind until she spoke up: "How odd, I can not read that at all."

"Hm?" When he cast more than a glance over, he realised how ancient this thin tome must be. An intricate symbol of some kind covered its front; its odd scripture appeared like something he saw before, however. The young shepherd leaned over to look and Alisha shifted the book so he could read it more easily. "Wow. It's not meliodasian script, that's for sure... wait." His eyes grew wide as an idea began to form. "Is that, is that! Granny!"

The elder leaned into the room curiously and he held up the tome. "Is this book written in Ancient Avarost? Can you read it?!"

"Why, yes," the elder told him cheerfully. Sorey almost drooled as she elaborated: "It's a well-made copy with childrens' counting songs, or so I am told. I never learned it myself, so I can't say if it's true."

"So you know someone who can read it?" He had to meet that person and learn everything from them.

"Um," Alisha interjected with a tap to his shoulder and a curious gaze at the book he now cradled in his hands. "What is so special about Ancient Avarost?"

"You don't know?" Seeing her expression, Sorey pushed his excitement back a notch. "Sorry, got a little carried away." He then held up the book for emphasis again. "Ancient Avarost is one of the lost tongues and the most difficult one still remembered. It's based on impressionist script, so each character can have various meanings depending on the feeling its supposed to portray and what characters surround it. You have to intuit how the author felt while writing something to even start translating it, sometimes you need to rearrange the entire structure of a paragraph to get at the actual meaning, too. It's incredible!"

Alisha listened curiously, trying to make sense of his description and understand how such a scripture would even work. Once Sorey had finished however, it was Lailah who spoke up from her seat: "Could it be that your seraph translated this text?"

"Huh? Wait, what?"

Sorey, his attention now drawn from the old tome, looked between Lailah and Nica; Alisha followed his gaze with some confusion, which only grew when the elder cackled and answered the question the princess never heard: "No no, dear. The woman I got it from told me about it a long time ago."

Picking up on Alisha's confusion, Sorey made a motion for where his bonded seraph sat. "Lailah is still with us and, well. It looks like granny can see seraphim?" It came out as more of a question than he intended; Sorey cast a look at the amused elder, who tilted her head at him but said nothing.

"Oh, I see."

Alisha's eyes narrowed for a moment before she averted her gaze, then released a quiet sigh and took the book back from Sorey. Closing it carefully, she ran a finger over the almost bleached out cover. Its paper was brittle, much different to the parchment used these days. Yet Sorey and her could both still see the emblem drawn on its cover; Alisha traced it with her finger. "What an elaborate design," she mumbled in reawakened wonder.

Lailah joined them to peek at it while Sorey already peered at the cover. This crest consisted of a succession of five rings, each smaller one placed within the next bigger one. The smallest was a dot, the biggest had diamonds drawn at each cardinal direction like a compass; halfway between each diamond sat another that turned into an arrowhead directed outward. "If its childrens' counting songs and written in Ancient Avarost, that might be Avarost's crest or something," he suggested.

Neither Sorey nor Alisha saw Lailah's expression cloud over. The only one who noticed was granny, who left the room instead of telling on her. They ultimately left the ancient tome alone, as no true interpretation revealed itself. Unfortunately for them, Nica's seraph made no appearance despite Sorey's asking to meet them. "He is shy," she explained and wondered if they actually believed it.

Now that the group of three left to investigate something closer to Marlind, she was cleaning up a little. That intriguing book remained on the table for now until she could sort it back in; the preservative artes did their best, but its age made great care a necessity regardless.

That was when Symonne returned, seeping in through the window like mist and then taking physical form; Nica greeted her with a warm smile and a pat on the head. "Welcome home, sweetie. It's cold today and you have been out for a while, do you want to warm up a bit?"

The seraph shook her head at that and regarded the room, the smell of food, the plates. "I'm fine. Did you act senile again?" Her matter-of-fact tone drew a soft huff from Nica.

"Why yes, dear; you just missed the gentle shepherd and princess Alisha by a few minutes."

Symonne had little more than a shrug for that. "What a shame."

They traded these barbs drily, just as they always did. Nica knew Symonne was happy with that. The girl began to open up over time, just as usual. She hid a grin nonetheless, knowing that her trap had long since snapped shut. The old adage remained true; people could fight pain, but they could not fight happiness. She had never forgotten that lesson and never would, and so Symonne would fall to her whims through kindness and love.

When she turned back to return that book to its spot however, she found Symonne rooted to the ground. Her face had lost all colour, returning to a state almost as pale as when they first met. Her eyes were locked onto the crest on display, unblinking. The crest of Innominat.

Nica hesitated for a long moment, considering how to approach this. A voice whispered to her from within, guiding, and she began by slowly pulling the book away. Careful not to damage it, she returned it onto the bookshelf. Then she stepped around Symonne and got into a good position. Nica reached out carefully and, instead of gently shaking the girl like others would, she grabbed under her armpits in a single motion and pulled her up, locking the seraph's arms.

Symonne shuddered and her head whirled around, glassy eyes searching for threats. Her form wobbled but remained as it was, whatever terror haunted her stopping her from manipulating it. She thrashed and fought against Nica's grasp with violent force that tore something in the elder's arm, but she held strong. There was no screaming and the thrashing ended after that first attempt. They stared into each other's eyes for long moments until Symonne averted her gaze.

"You can let go now, I am fine."

She did not sound fine, but Nica decided not to point it out. She lowered the girl to the ground and wrapped her in a tight embrace, small hands clutching her old robe. Nica stroked Symonne's back to comfort her. "Surprisingly fine, but that is something seraphim have over humans. If you were one of us, there would've been screaming and punches and artes."

"I am aware. I have seen quite a few such people."

She still clutched Nica's robe despite the blank statement, unwilling to let go just yet; the elder said nothing about it and held Symonne, glad that the reaction had not been worse. A human in her position was already bad enough, but a seraph could cause great destruction if agitated; yet seraphim, by their spiritual nature and longer lifespan, could heal greater wounds than most humans could.

She kept her thoughts on Symonne's state to herself and pulled the girl along to sit on the couch with her. An absently weaved healing arte saw to whatever tendon she tore when restraining the girl, all of her attention on comforting her. "There there, it's okay. You'll be okay, Symonne." Her charge almost rolled into a ball on her lap, head resting on the old woman's chest with a tired resignation.

"I won't pry," Nica started gently after a time, fingers running through Symonne's hair. "But bottling it all up isn't going to help you. I will listen if you want to talk about it." She received a soft nod that was more felt than seen, but Symonne kept her silence.

Nica knew she would need to strategise with the others some more; they had made great progress over the months, but there were still areas they needed to be careful about. Yet Nica was optimistic; she believed in their combined effort and experience.