Symonne had waited a day before agreeing, if just to appear hesitant. She idly wondered where Velvet stayed to come and go like this, but her thoughts were more focussed on making sense of the weird precautions taken with them. She figured she might as well adhere to them, but did not miss their idiosyncrasy.

Taking a last breath of the much cleaner air, she dematerialised and settled within Nica. Her senses numbed somewhat, direction being relegated to only vision and hearing; then only hearing, as the elder's eyes were covered by a blindfold. "The air feels different," Velvet commented while rustling around doing something. "There is a domain around Ladylake now, isn't it?"

Her bit of conversation drew a chuckle from Nica; Symonne already knew why, not that she could chime in right now. Nica said about the same thing, anyway. "The gentle shepherd returned to town just earlier today and introduced a new Lord of the Land, so- "Eight headed is the lord of the land- Symonne shuddered and pushed the thought away; she really should not have challenged Laphi to read that book out loud. She missed the rest of what was said outside until she heard her name: "Are you alright in there, Symonne?"

Nica's question distracted her a little, which was why she focussed on it; the other two Normin pulsed something akin to worry as well, which told her enough about how noticeable that shudder of hers was. "I'm fine."

"...if you say so. Lead on, sweetie."

What followed were dull minutes of nothing but sounds. Symonne still weaved a light illusion on Nica's request, to make it seem to passersby as if her eyes were not bound to prevent undue attention. She sometimes felt seraphim nearby, but they moved on with the crowd. The noise of said crowd grew more quiet as time went on, then almost vanished entirely. It should not do that in the middle of day, she knew; perhaps they left Ladylake?

The fact she could soon feel enough mana ahead to constitute several seraphim was puzzling. Symonne tried to strain her senses further, but failed to pick up much from any of the individual people. They closed in, no words were exchanged for some reason, and then even more mana flared right in front of her. Just what was this all?

A lurching sensation later, she figured whatever happened was done. Except that Velvet told Nica to keep walking, on and on and on... until it was time. "You can come out, Symonne." She did just that immediately, a deep curiousity burning within her now. Who were these people really, who were those seraphim, what was that arte she definitely felt acting up?

More importantly however, why was she in Lastonbell?!

The architecture was different, more rustic than Ladylake's smooth surfaces and channels. She could have mistaken it for a different part of town, but Lake Perniya was nowhere to be seen. The royal castle was gone. And there was a belltower on full display. Only a single one of which existed on the entire continent, at least one of such magnificence. Lastonbell lay two months' worth of ceaseless travel distant from Ladylake. They should not be here.

Symonne discreetly created a needle from her mana and rammed it into her thigh; pain flared through the appendage and she had to suppress her instinctual reaction to heal it immediately. Yet even as her body throbbed and wavered, she found the scene around her unchanged. Unless someone she never heard about displayed illusions more potent than her own, which not even enough force or pain could dispel, this truly was Lastonbell. The only ritual she even knew of that could create such an illusion had been forgotten for a millennium, with herself being the only one who still even knew of its existence.

Velvet began to walk and Symonne followed almost numbly, her astonishment plain for all to see. Nica chuckled, having taken off the blindfold and looking around the city. "It has been a while since I was here, sweetie."

"I'm not surprised." Velvet huffed, then exchanged greetings with a group of men walking past. Then a gaggle of children. A lot of people seemed to know her here, Symonne noted even through her befuddlement. Rounding the first corner since her emergence and finding a knight approach Velvet to chat, Symonne forced herself to think. What kind of arte did she know that would allow such travel?

The answer was simple: only one. A lost arte, a powerful arte, an arte so potent she wished she could just refuse the reality she was staring at. But it remained, unchallenged. She had woken up in Ladylake, now she stood in Lastonbell. Nothing but a gate of travel allowed this. Which, now that she thought about it, made a lot of odd little things form a coherent picture. She never ran into Laphicet on her walks, yet suddenly he showed up on Nica's doorstep. The same with Velvet. Both of them kept appearing and disappearing while apparently doing something in the interim. Velvet's mysterious prodigy whom Hyaci never heard about, it all made sense with this.

She had to learn more. Did Velvet find those two connecting gates and learned to use them? No, Symonne discarded that last part immediately. If anyone, Laphi did. The better question was whether these were the only gates they had, or if there were more. Where those potentially existing gates led.

Perhaps it was intuition, perhaps just paranoia, but Symonne felt certain that there was more to this than just two artes left over from the Age Of The Gods.

Her thoughts kept racing for several more blocks; she ignored most of the conversation as it was just chatter and Nica having fun by playing grandma as usual. She considered her options, but found herself not feeling threatened; if anything, she was truly just burning with curiousity how all of this could be. Odd. Perhaps, she reasoned, an existing network of teleportation artes would benefit her own work. Would benefit the cause. That might just be it.

In time, as noon approached again because Lastonbell lay further east than Ladylake, she was led to a fenced off backyard; above it towered a building that dominated the street it stood on, which appeared familiar to Symonne. She could not tell where she saw it before, though. Most of her memories from before meeting Nica were fuzzy at best, another change she had yet to fully understand. Velvet produced a key and opened the door in that fence, then led the other two inside. Into the house and up a staircase, into something that looked like a living room, if with most of the furniture pushed aside. Symonne idly studied the few personal effects in place, a single painting of a bowl of fruit, some flowers carefully tended to, and a pair of knit socks halfway to completion.

Those were all the impressions she could gather before they reached that room, where two people were already waiting for them. One was Laphicet, smiling at her the moment their eyes met; Symonne could not help but feel a little more at ease, knowing she had a friend here in whatever she got herself into.

The other was a young woman, one whom Symonne would not have pegged for fourteen, had she not known. Knowing her age, she noticed the few traces of a yet not fully mature body that remained after her puberty. They were well hidden, with the usual clumsiness of growing rapidly or the influence of her still developing sexuality completely absent. As if she were older, far older. A calm gaze she had, meeting Symonne's lilac eyes evenly with her bright blue pair. Her peripheral vision provided the fact this girl wore a sword strapped to her waist, then Symonne noticed the pendant. Her clothes were plain greys and browns otherwise, so the somewhat intricate carving hanging from her neck stood out a bit, as did her bright blonde hair.

Symonne could not tell at a glance what kind of motif it was supposed to be, so she discarded the notion for now. She had no real time for more observations anyway, seeing how the momentary silence began to drag. The girl wilted somewhat, but then she took a deeper breath and bowed her head politely. "I was already told of your arrival, it is a great pleasure to meet you both. My name is Margaret, and I have been studying the blade under Velvet."

Symonne added a way of speaking that stood at odds with usual peasant vocabulary to the pile of inconsistencies; they normally would have bugged her, but she already knew the answer.

Meanwhile, Nica darted forward at speed and cooed. "My, such a proper young lady! Velvet already told me so much of you, sweetie, but you are even more adorable in person!" Margaret blinked, obviously bewildered by the sudden praise; Symonne chuckled quietly while Velvet snorted, neither of them even trying to stop the elder from her usual spiel.

Making use of the moment, she took a step toward Velvet; Laphi did much the same and Symonne threw a raised eyebrow to him primarily. "A gate of travel? How did you get your hands on something like that?"

The boy made a bit of a face and sighed. "Figures you would put two and two together. Is now the time to say it?" he asked toward his sister, who did not answer him. "I take that as a yes. So, Velvet, 'I told you so'." A pause, followed by a huff. "Feels weird to say that myself."

Symonne did not need to ask clarification to understand who had the idea with the blindfold. Instead she nudged her friend with a little smile. "What, is it usually you who gets that one?"

"More than you can imagine," Velvet muttered in response. Then she shook her head. "The gate of travel, well. We found one and Laphi figured out how to operate it." So about as expected.

"And how to make more," Laphi added with a grin. "We put a few up during our travels last year." So about what she feared.

Yet, this opened another question Symonne really should have asked earlier. She focussed on Laphi now, feeling actually inquisitive for the first time in a while. "You allegedly learned Ancient Avarost on your own and are capable of not only operating but also replicating a lost arte. How did I never hear of you before?" Due to her focus, she failed to notice the Normin exchanging glances and Margaret's attention turning to her.

Laphi opened his mouth to speak, but then he faltered and frowned deeply. Symonne waited, a bit of worry about maybe pushing too far somewhere in the back of her mind quickly silenced; he would be fine.

Velvet then put a hand on his head and looked at Symonne with a curious lack of emotion. "Because we lived in a little village of three dozen souls, far away from where anyone would hear about him."

She made to ask, but stopped herself. Something about this was off, in a way she knew she should not poke but forgot why exactly. A moment passed before the memory sparked in her mind, of how seraphim were sometimes born from the death of a human. And these not only acted as siblings, they were. The picture was clear enough. "I see. I'm sorry for bringing that up." She actually was sorry, too. It had been a while, Symonne realised; she never minded pushing people into their issues to see whether they broke or grew. Yet here, she had nothing to gain from doing so; she did not want to hurt her first friend, either. Thoughts she decided to examine later, but which she would forget to ever get back to.

Taking a deep breath, Symonne took Velvet's nod for forgiveness and turned to Margaret, who was eyeing her curiously again. "Now, let's see what we have here." She strolled forward, right into Margaret's personal space; the girl leaned back a little when Symonne tiptoed to get even closer. Her cheek warmed in a heartbeat when the seraph girl cupped it with one hand, studying her; there were more signs of youth up close, traces of acne that still persisted but were hidden away under strategically placed strands of hair.

Symonne remained in that pose for an amount of time she knew was uncomfortable for Margaret, trying not to laugh and not to draw it out too long. She was trying to get the human girl's measure. to see how far she could go to fluster her without creeping her out. The thoughtful noises she made as she 'examined' Margaret might have helped a little bit.

When she decided it was enough, Symonne went for the finishing blow. "So you are the girl I heard about," she opened and ran a thumb over Margaret's cheek, then let go and took two steps back with a sly grin. Margaret did not blush noticeably, though what little could be seen of her ears under that pretty hair seemed rather red. Symonne chuckled over how much she fidgeted. "I have the feeling we will have a lot of fun together."

"That was her only concern?"

Velvet probably had not meant to say it that loud, but Symonne heard and threw her a wink. "Not the only one, but it's a good start." Margaret had begun to pout at this point, cheeks puffed out and arms folding up. "A journey means I don't have a Laphi to tease, and here we have a fine substitute to suit my needs."

She winked at Laphi as well for good measure, who averted his gaze despite not being the focus of her teasing. Velvet just huffed while Nica cackled, a wrinkled hand ruffling Symonne's hair. "Now, don't be too hard on the girl, yes? She is still young."

"I would much appreciate that," Margaret mumbled from the side. Still, she did not refuse her after the revelation, so either she had been given ahead warning, or this was more important to her than a bit of embarassment. Symonne could work with either of those.

"Don't worry too much, it's not fun if I do it all the time." Else she would have gone for an enthusiastic hug to greet Laphi; on second thought, that was an opportunity she wasted today.

Margaret sighed softly and shook her head. "It is just as well," she ultimately told them, gaze still on Symonne. "Some embarassment won't kill me and if it keeps you happy, I will bear with it." She held out a hand to shake, which the seraph girl took a moment later; she admittedly felt a little bad about it now, with how ernest Margaret was about the whole thing. Symonne made a mental note to go a bit easier on her for a while.

Curiously, Margaret had a rather firm grip for a human girl. Symonne took note of that but missed how her partner-to-be thought much the same in that moment. The others had retreated somewhat and left them to get acquainted, which Symonne made use of to focus on Margaret. It was time to figure her out and how she compared to Shepherd Sorey. "I'm curious. You wish to travel, but what will you do when we are attacked by hellions? Especially those who were once human and could be restored by the shepherd?"

Margaret's smile faded and was replaced by a soft frown as she considered. Due to her focus, Symonne could tell the moment she was done deliberating; her shoulders tensed and straightened, the contemplative expression made way for determination. "Any hellion that was not once human, I would cut down with your aid. For any other, it depends on whether they can be reasoned with; those who do evil knowingly, I would also destroy. The rest, I would leave be for the shepherd to cleanse."

"Interesting." Both the answer itself and the seriousness that was so unusual for a teen. "Why is that? Wouldn't you want to save everyone?"

She got a hollow laugh in response. "Not everyone can be saved at the same time and you know that as well as I do." Symonne did. "Sometimes, in choosing to aid one, another is forsaken. I can only try to save as many as possible and weed out whoever would threaten them."

"You don't sound happy."

"Just because it has to be done doesn't mean I have to like it."

She was beginning to see what Velvet saw in this girl; the desire to make this world better, the heart to see it through, and an unwavering conviction to take on even the world itself to make it change. Yet at the same time, even with memories of another life, this girl was yet raw material. A will never challenged was not strong, merely consistent; a heart never hit was not unbroken, merely whole.

Margaret was much like Shepherd Sorey in that they both held a strong purity. She was quite different from him in many other ways. Like him, she would need to prove herself and not break on the challenges ahead. Unlike Sorey, whom Symonne and Nica agreed would have his convictions tested severely before this was over, she saw Margaret passing those tests with distinction. More than that, she wanted to see her pass them. Or, in the event she broke, to be present if it happened.

Breathing slowly, Symonne nodded. Her decision was mostly made at this point. "One last thing I am curious about right now. What exactly is your goal?"

A long pause followed as the two girls stared at each other; Margaret twitched a little, seeming to pick the words to speak. Once she had them ready, she began slowly, surely: "My goal, right now, is undetermined in the short term. I need to learn more about this world first and help who I can on the way. After that however, I already know that I wish to become Maotelus' pactkeeper."

Silence reigned after her declaration; Symonne faintly noticed Nica's grin over the girl's boldness from her peripheral vision. She wondered what she should say about this; Maotelus was as good as fallen, corrupted by Heldalf and forced into submission by Malevolence. Sealed beneath Artorius' Throne, the former grand temple to the Great Lords, now a nest of darkness most foul. Yet it was a goal and an ambitious one at that; Symonne had certainty now, knew that this girl would get involved with Heldalf's plans. Yet her words were so full of conviction that Symonne wanted to aid her anyway; not against the Lord of Calamity, but at least on the first steps of her path. Within her concious mind, she decided to delay reporting on this until it was necessary.

Her decision made, Symonne decided to end this bit of interrogation. She considered pushing the girl into asking question about her instead of acting as if only Symonne's choice mattered, but knew it would be dishonest. In this moment it was her who held all the cards; if she refused Margaret, there was nothing she could do.

"Very well. I'm curious how far you will actually go."

She held out her hand without another word, palm facing up. Margaret beamed and gingerly reached for her, but did not manage to do more than touch before Nica distracted them from the other's warmth.

"Out with you, children. This isn't a show from here."

Their attention went to the elder, who shooed Velvet and Laphicet out the door; neither of them complained. Bienfu and Grimoirh returned to their vessel while Nica turned to the two girls. In that moment, the bond Symonne had with her dissolved like water turning to mist, fading away in an instant. Now she felt cold, more so than she ever remembered being. Alone.

She had changed more than she thought, feeling this distraught over being unbonded.

Nica strolled over to them with a gentle smile and covered their joined hands with her own. "Even with memories of past pacts, I'm going to run you through it for your first bond in this life," she told Margaret, who nodded and stood silent, eyes on the elder. "You already know the arte to bond with a seraph?"

"Yes."

"Good." A glance to Symonne. "No pact name, as before?"

She rolled her eyes. "True name, as before." Never pact names, never.

"Very well. Now listen, little Margaret." She squeezed their hands with calm. "A pact between human and seraph traditionally begins with a plea or prayer, if just to assert your goals toward the other. Following that, you cast the bonding arte and allow your chosen partner to tie her mana into it; only then will you receive her true name, at which point the bond establishes with that true name to tie her to you. You can offer a pact name at that stage, but Symonne doesn't want one." Margaret nodded a few times as she listened, but said nothing. In her own mind, Symonne noted that the plea or prayer was for something like them, with neither side having known the other beforehand; bonding with a human one knew well did not require to make one's intentions clear.

Margaret offered no questions even with prompting, so Nica nodded to herself. "I will take my leave now. The words you speak to each other should remain yours, and no one else's." Her voice was kind, but there was an odd note in it which Symonne could not decipher. She decided to ignore it, figuring it may be wistfulness or something of the like. Perhaps remembrance.

A few soft steps and the clacking of a door later, they were alone, eyes boring into the respective other's. Margaret stepped back and opened her mouth, but hesitated; with their touch broken, Symonne knew as well that it was time.

The girl took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed momentarily. A trickle of mana coursed through her and formed into a spell matrix, circular and silvery. It gently rotated between them, transparent like glass petals. Then she put her hand on it from one side, palm facing Symonne. "I am Margaret Randgriz," she intoned, "and I aspire to turn this world for the better no matter what. To improve the lives of all the people in it, human and seraph alike. No matter how far I have to go, even if it will be ultimately futile. I ask for you to join me as a partner and friend, for however long you wish to be." The mana pulsed with each sentence spoken and a corona of silver formed atop the girl as the arte manifested itself. Symonne could not help but smile over Margaret's earnestness; it was a good plea, in her opinion.

She put her hand on the other side of that matrix, channeling her own mana into it; there was easily more of it, mixing with Margaret's and turning the 'glass' a navy blue. "For the time being," Symonne answered, "I wish to see where your ambitions may lead you, for many trials await on your path. Your partner I shall be, and friends we may become in time. As such, receive my name, Kyurib Ishuk."

Her true name rang deeper within Symonne, her spiritual nature bound by it since it had been given to her a millennium ago; the spell matrix began to shine brightly and rotated between their hands, filling with intricate lines as her very nature weaved itself into the arte. Symonne felt herself being drawn into the spell and let it happen; her body lost coherence and flowed forward like a gentle wave, through the 'glass' and into Margaret's hand.

From there, Symonne spread through the girl's body; she remained concious, her nature adjusting the new vessel to become more sturdy on its own. Within moments, her ears were Margaret's ears, her eyes were Margaret's eyes; she could not see the girl anymore, merely watch and listen through her vessel's senses. Just as with Nica, yet also different. Her mana flooded through every pore of Margaret's body, suffused it, made it more.

"Kyurib Ishuk."

Margaret tested the name, her voice sounding different from within. "Symonne of the springs? That is such a beautiful name."

There was nothing but awe and Symonne simply huffed, knowing that their bond transmitted her voice to Margaret; she felt happy that her name was liked, though. "It doesn't really matter, but I appreciate it. You and I will be together for a while, so... what are you doing?"

To some surprise on Symonne's side, Margaret had looked at her hands and clenched them to fists a few times, but then immediately made use of her improved mana channels. Most humans only had atrophied ones or none at all, but she apparently knew that channeling mana became easily possible with a seraph. An arte circle formed on top of her palm, gently rotating.

Symonne recognised it a moment before the arte completed and gentle, white light filled Margaret's eyes. "Testing your old knowledge?" She did not really have to ask, seeing the use of one of the most simple artes in existence, but there was a certain curiousity there. Symonne wanted to know who her new partner had once been.

Margaret's vision shifted slightly, likely a nod. "Yes, something like that." She paused momentarily and the light winked out as its mana flow was cut off. "Say, would you be up for a little bout before I go down? I would like to see what you're capable of."

Had Symonne eyes, she would have rolled them in that moment. Children.

"No need for now, we can do that afterward. Lie down and rest up, that will serve you better." She then left her vessel and formed back into her regular body. "You will be out of it for some time as your body gets used to the adjustments, between one and five days usually."

"I am aware. Please get along with Velvet and Laphicet in the meantime, okay?"

Symonne chuckled and winked at Margaret. "It's not my fault he pouts so cutely."

The other girl joined in her laughter after a moment and they left the room together.