Author's Notes: Wow. This is delayed. Sorry. April was the absolute worst. COVID-19 is shaping up to quite the monster.
I don't know if I will be back on schedule in two weeks, but we'll see. Anyway, here's the next chapter to stave off that hunger for you 15 or so readers.
Please enjoy. PM if any questions.
Delthea ran as fast as her feet would carry her, the old heel of her boots clacking against the neatly paved stone pathway of the station. After passing under the grand archway past entrance, she dashed down the large flight of stairs leading to the station's boarding area, gliding her hand over the rails to make sure she didn't slip.
It was fortunate she packed light, her small duffel bag tightened snugly at her shoulders. Running around with anything larger or heavier would have been impossible. She saw how much Hilda was struggling with that suitcase of hers. Even if she wasn't sick like before, Delthea wouldn't have been able to carry the suitcase, let alone with one hand.
But Hilda somehow managed, even if she was muttering something under her breath about Balthus the whole time
Seriously.
Though the queasiness in her stomach had subsided a while ago, a general uneasy feeling clung to her body. It was like a warning her body was broadcasting to her, telling her that she wasn't exactly 100%. That much was obvious. The day had been a doozy thus far.
But more than that, she felt something else. The weight of the journal—and the important train ticket it carried—felt like boulders in her small hands. While she was running, she was thinking of ways she would be able to casually give the journal back to that girl, Lysithea.
Here's the journal that fell out because we dug through your stuff. Sorry!
"Like hell that's gonna work!" She screamed internally, jumping down the last couple steps. Her feet rattled from the impact a bit, but she wasted no time in picking up the pace. She started weaving through the milling crowd. She had to hop over suitcases strewn in front of her just to avoid tripping. As the sole carrier of the journal, she had to avoid falling—and losing what she held—at all costs.
Delthea had split up from Byleth and Hilda. Initially, all three of them rushed to the station as a group, but Byleth suggested they search the station separately to cover more ground. With only about four minutes left since they arrived, they were out of options. They split at the entrance. Byleth would cover the western end of the station, leaving the eastern side to Hilda and Delthea. And for some reason, the journal was left with Delthea.
To be accurate, Hilda left it with her. She claimed that Delthea would be more careful than she was and be able to cover more ground, given that Hilda herself was lugging around a gargantuan suitcase. Delthea wanted to argue on how easily Hilda was able to move with her bag in tow, but there was no time.
She had to get the journal—and the ticket it held within—to Lysithea.
"Excuse me!" Delthea announced, squeezing her way through the waves of students. They all gave her dirty looks as she passed, but their gazes paled in comparison to one Lysithea left her with earlier.
Why did she look at me like that?
The answer was obvious. They messed around and technically looked through her stuff. Anyone would be upset with that alone.
But at the time, Byleth was the only one who had any of Lyisthea's possessions in hand. He was checking up on the black case that fell out of Lysithea's bag when Balthus arrived in tow with her. If Lysithea truly was angry at them for touching her stuff, which she clearly was, she should have been glaring at Byleth.
But she didn't.
Even though she gave everyone a scathing remark before storming off, Lysithea funneled her seething eyes only towards Delthea. Well, technically not just her. Lysithea did look at Balthus before looking at her, but her gaze then was nowhere near the boiling point as it was when she looked at Delthea. It felt too angry. Like it was something personal.
Does she know me?
Not possible. Lysithea wasn't from the village and Delthea didn't really venture beyond her home all that much.
Her village was a small rural inlet at a fork where the rivers met the sea. Despite neighboring a fishing harbor with many ships going in and out, her village was pretty secluded from the rest of the world. That wasn't to say the village was ignorant of the larger world. Word does have a way of getting around, even in a small and limited place like her home. The inn's guests did a good job of helping with that.
The family inn was situated close to the riverbanks, giving guests a picturesque view of the river's fork to the sea. It was a big reason why people even came out to that far side of the world.
Because of how small her village was, everyone in the village knew—or at least had heard of—one another. If Lysithea really was from the village, her name would have rang a bell. All it did now was ring up a headache.
"Sorry, please let me through!" Delthea exclaimed, slipping by a group of people waiting by the support beams that held up the station's magnificent glass ceiling. They were too bewildered by the brown-headed blur to even register a proper response or insult.
Had she visited the inn before?
If she had, it wasn't like Delthea to forget a guest's face or name. Reading Lysithea's name off her letter didn't elicit anything. Hilda and Byleth had both said something about how respected the von Ordelia name was in the Channeling community, but even that didn't resurrect any potential memories.
Despite Delthea's lack of interest in Channeling, she wouldn't have forgotten an odd tidbit like, especially about a guest.
Her family's inn did house odd visitors from time to time. Rich and eccentric folks occasionally turned up on her far side of the world. Something about the village's seclusion appealed to them, Delthea supposed. It was why someone like Jerry turned up on her side of the world.
Maybe rich people wanted to run away from their troubles sometimes. And the secluded, idyllic appeal of the countryside was their haven. Jerry certainly seemed to enjoy it, going so far as to pelt Delthea with loads of questions about everything, from life to food to interesting locales.
But trouble always seemed to catch up wherever you went, no matter how rich you were. Jerry barely stayed for a quarter of the stay he bought, leaving after an urgent phone call. He left as quickly as he had come, and told Delthea to keep his deposit and tip.
That was only about a week ago, around the same time she first awoke to her Channeling.
And now, like it seemed for Jerry, trouble had a knack for following her.
And talking about trouble, time was running out!
Delthea's eyes darted around the station. Clocks hung over the three tunneled arches where the trains would arrive and leave through. But Delthea couldn't make out the hands all that well from where she was. The gathering crowd was just that thick.
Thankfully, she didn't have to look at the clocks. The general unrest and antsiness of the station crowd told her as much. And it told her she was running out of time.
I really need to hurry u—
"O—oogh!"
A flash of white. Stars began twirling behind her eyelids. The station warped into a whirlpool.
She collided with something. Hard.
Delthea fell backwards onto her butt with a thud, spreading her hands backwards to brace her fall.
Her hands did little to lessen the impact. A jolt ran down her legs and up her spine, accompanied by a rippling wave of pain up her thin arms from the awkward angle she landed. Everything was so sudden, it was a miracle nothing was bent and twisted out of place. She didn't even have a chance to cry out in pain.
After a couple seconds, the station returned to her vision, the stars having subsided. They were quickly replaced with tears. Delthea remembered learning as a kid how closely tied crying was with the nose, along with how sensitive it was to pain. She thought she had grown out of running face first into things.
After swiping away the tears with the palm of her hand, Delthea saw that people had gathered around her. Her little crash attracted quite the crowd. Whispers and hushed voices rippled through the people that circled around her. They were so muddled together, Delthea couldn't make out a coherent word people were saying about her. Regardless, her ears burned with embarrassment. But at least she hadn't lost hold of...
…
Where was the journal?
As stiff as they were, Delthea loosened her arms from her side and checked her hands. They were empty.
Oh no.
Think! Where was the last place she could have—
The collision!
The journal was still in her hands when she ran into something. She remembered she was still holding as she spread her hands out behind her to brace for impact. She must have lost hold of the journal then.
I have to find it!
Delthea immediately got to her knees and scoured for the journal. If she lost it, this entire ordeal would have been for zilch. She couldn't bear thinking about what sort of faces Hilda and Byleth would make to her if they learned what she had done. Hilda entrusted the journal to her after all.
… No, entrusting was putting it too nicely.
More like,—
"Looking for this?"
Delthea's eyes bolted from the ground upwards to the unmistakable outline of the beaten up journal, silhouetted against the light of the noontime sun overhead. Her prayers had been answered. She hadn't lost the journal after all! Perfect timing too, she could hear the faint whistle of a train in the distance. Basking in relief, all she had to do was ask the person holding it to hand it over and—
Then it dawned on Delthea.
What she had run into earlier wasn't a brick pillar or wall, regardless of how hard it felt like against her poor face.
It was a person.
And that person now held the journal in his hands, with a nasty look on his face to boot.
"I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, apologizing and quickly getting to her feet. She bowed her head with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I was in a rush and wasn't looking where I was going and—"
"You think I'm going to fall for that, thief?"
The moment the last word left the boy's lips, time seemed to freeze all around her. People had stopped what they were doing to bystand the sudden commotion in the station. One that starred her and this other student. The hard stares of the onlookers and the contemptuous gaze of the boy sorely drove home the sort of spectacle Delthea had so elegantly waltzed face first into.
It wasn't that hard to figure out. The boy in front of her was dressed to the nines, decked out in a marble white uniform that had a blinding effect on anyone who gazed upon it. Hair of platinum blonde and perfectly fair skin, the kind only money could buy, the boy's appearance and aura screamed upper echelon, a world that was nothing but alien to poor old Delthea.
She was a commoner who had stepped on the toes of one of the elite. And this elite in particular was outing her as a thief. Though his attire was as brilliant as the sun, his eyes were as dark as pitch, containing no room for warmth, no space for mercy. Though uncommon back home, Delthea had run-ins with these types before, none of them barely amounting to tolerable.
The smart thing would be to apologize immediately but that wasn't going to work in this instance. He was accusing her of a crime she did not commit. Clearing that up was going to be a headache and a half.
"You've got the wrong idea," Delthea explained calmly, keeping her hands raised to the side. Though the pressure from the student and the growing crowd was immense, she stood her ground. "Look, I'm really sorry I ran into but I didn't steal anything."
The snob shook his head, scoffing with the sort of authority that Delthea would've found laughable in any other circumstance. Right now, she sure as hell didn't feel like laughing. The boy rapped the weathered journal against his partially gloved hands.
"There's no way a mere commoner like yourself would ever possess an object like this."
Delthea blinked.
"... A journal?"
"No, you fool!" the boy roared with indignity, taken aback by her less than plussed reaction. He held the old journal before her, much more closely this time. Any closer and he would've bonked her nose. "It has not escaped the trained eyes of mine that this booklet is enchanted!"
Delthea could hear some gasps and murmurs rustle through the crowd. Well, that was news for her too. Lyisthea's journal looked like any old keepsake the girl kept around for sentimental reasons. To hear that this barely held together leather booklet was enchanted or whatever was something she definitely didn't expect.
"As you can see," the boy continued, preaching to the crowd, "even someone of my pedigree cannot open this journal." His gloved hands tried tearing open the booklet, as if they were the maws of a beast greedily gnashing at its prey. However, true to his word, he could not get the journal to flip open no matter how hard he tried.
"Leave it to a commoner to steal something without knowing its value—"
"Didn't steal it."
"Enough with your excuses!" the boy yelled, pointing one end of the journal towards her, righteous fury flowing through his veins. "Since this does not belong to you, I shall confiscate it for its safe return to its rightful owner." His eyes suddenly had a dangerous glint in them as they shifted towards her. He reached behind his back.
"And," he continued, in a devilish tone, "I shall apprehend thieving commoner scum like you."
Delthea didn't quite understand it. But at that moment, without even properly registering, a signal surged through her body, firing off every synapse available. All warning her that she was in imminent danger.
That this boy, despite his rambling, was very indeed dangerous.
But before things could escalate, a calm voice cut through the icy air like a blade.
"Let's not get hasty now."
Faster than Delthea could blink, another person appeared on the scene, having intervened on her behalf. The white-uniformed boy turned his frigid glare towards the unwelcome intruder.
"Who do you think you—"
Before he even finished his sentence, the uniformed boy's righteous fury and his indignant gaze thawed in an instant. As a matter of fact, the entire crowd surrounding them seemed to grow hush-hush at this sudden intervention. The fair skinned boy's face looked a lot paler with every passing second. As White Uniform was probably thinking of wearing a brown uniform today instead of white, the newcomer casually pried the old journal out of the boy's hand before presenting it before Delthea.
"I believe this is yours?"
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. Unlike her accoster, this outsider gave her a gentle, apologetic look, his baby-blue eyes shining with sincerity from beneath his blonde bangs as he beckoned for Delthea to reclaim what she had lost. She wasted no time in retrieving the journal.
"You're making a mistake! That can't be hers!"
It seemed the other boy still had some fight left in him, despite shaking like a leaf. The outsider calmly shook his head.
"Let her prove it then."
All eyes were on her once more.
"If that isn't hers, she wouldn't be able to open it, correct?" Blue Eyes stated. White Uniform gruffly nodded.
Taking that as her cue, Delthea slowly and deliberately let the journal fall open in her hands. With how silent the crowd had gotten, everyone heard the aged pages of the booklet flutter from cover to cover. Unlike White Uniform and his self-purported high pedigree, Delthea had managed to open the "enchanted" journal without any issue.
A rippling gasp surged amongst the crowd. White Uniform hung his head low, his platinum blonde hair falling over and masking his face. It was then that Delthea noticed Blue Eyes had been holding White Uniform's arm behind his back the entire time, the same arm White Uniform had reached behind himself with earlier.
Blue Eyes unceremoniously let White Uniform go, who then stumbled forward with the sort of grace unbefitting someone of his pedigree. Blue Eyes must've been holding onto his arm pretty rough as White Uniform's sleeve was tousled and crinkled severely, contrasting against the rest of his pristine white uniform. It was probably really painful too, seeing how White Uniform massaged his wrist and slowly flexed his bare fingers, pale from lack of circulation.
… Bare fingers…?
But now, with the matter settled, the crowd began to slowly disperse, retreating back into the recesses of the train station. Delthea let out a massive sigh of relief as she hugged the journal tightly against her chest, thankful it was back in her possession.
"Are you okay?"
Looking up, Delthea saw while everyone else, including White Uniform, had left the scene, Blue Eyes remained. Among all the people that were there before, he was the only one who had not looked down on her or with disdain. Where she was vilified before many as some petty thief, Blue Eyes defended her. And now, he was the only one to lend out a hand. Had he not been wearing a maroon-red uniform, he would have looked like a picture perfect knight in shining armor.
Delthea sheepishly nodded, brushing her hair over her ear, tinged pink with embarrassment.
"Th-thank you," she said, bowing. "If you hadn't jumped, I don't know what would've happened."
Her words made Blue Eyes look over his shoulder, his brows furrowed. "That boy should've apologized for his slander." He turned to her, eyes completely serious. "Should I bring him back here?"
"I'd… rather not see his mug again, if I'm honest." Delthea spat, making no attempt at hiding her derision over the encounter. "But thanks."
The boy's eyes widened with how easily she was letting White Uniform off the hook but cracked a slight grin seeing her regain some of her gusto.
And to be honest, she wasn't exactly in the clear in all of this. If she had been paying attention to where she was going, Delthea could've avoided this entire ordeal.
"Regardless, I'm sorry you had to endure that." The boy apologized on behalf of White Uniform, courteously bowing to someone who was far below his station. Before anyone would notice the weird scene, Delthea quickly shook the boy's shoulder for him to stop and stand back up. It was one thing to have a noble yell at her but having one bow to her was a bit too much, especially if they didn't do anything wrong. Delthea's mind wandered back to the image of a knight.
Though two boys seemed to be cut from the same regal cloth, carrying with them an air of sophistication and nobility, the two couldn't have been more different. Though White Uniform, in spite of his polished mein and appearance, gave her a taste of how ugly this world could be, Blue Eyes gave her some hope that not all nobles were like that. Seeing him sheepishly scratch the back of his head at her insistence to stop apologizing warmed her up to the thought.
Still, it was a stark reminder. This place wasn't home. It wasn't going to welcome her with open arms, much less care if she was mistreated. Remembering how easily the crowd was swayed when she was painted a criminal and a thief sent chills down her spine. Did everyone here picture commoners in that sort of light? she wondered. She sighed. It'd be a tough impression to crack.
Then again, she had been fortunate to meet some people who didn't instantly judge based on appearances. Blue Eyes (who she still didn't know the name of), Byleth, Balthus, and Hilda. In the short time they were together, not once had they mistreated her on the basis of her background. Thinking that only further reinforced her belief that things wouldn't be as bleak as was originally making them out to be. So long as she kept her head up and didn't step on other people's toes then—
"Weren't you in a hurry?"
Delthea suddenly became keenly aware of the baggage she was quite literally carrying in her hands. There was still someone she had to make amends with.
It was Blue Eyes who had asked, nudging her as she was zoning out in the middle of the walkway. In the meantime, he had gone for the luggage he had set down on a nearby bench, slinging a long, slender case of some sort over his back while a leather bag occupied his shoulder. He stared at her inquisitively.
"Do you know where the boarding area for the train is?" If she couldn't locate Lysithea directly, the least she could do was get to the general area most passengers would be. It wasn't the best plan but it was better than nothing at all. Judging by the train whistle earlier, she'd probably only have a small window to catch up.
Blue Eyes tilted his head, peering over Delthea's shoulder as if he were trying to make something out in the distance. His eyes squinted.
"The boarding area for the Express should be over there," he muttered, but he didn't sound so sure. Delthea turned to where Blue Eyes was looking and there were indeed a mass of people there, milling about as they waited for the train. They had probably heard the whistle too and were getting ready to proceed with the boarding process. That would be her next destination.
"Wait."
Before she took a step towards the boarding area, Blue Eyes curiously stopped her. Just as Delthea was about to ask why, the same whistling sound blew across the station, this time much closer. That meant the train would be here soon and—
"Did you hear that?" Blue Eyes spoke in a low, serious voice.
Delthea nodded though she didn't understand why the boy was being so furtive. It was the train's horn which meant it was bound for the station and—
Screeeee~
There it was again, even closer. But something was off.
If the train's horn sounded this close, then where was the train?
Delthea spun around, looking side to side at the tracks. They laid as bare as they were before. No train, not even the telltale rumbling that it was close by. And as this realization dawned on Delthea, all the other people around seemed to have come to the same conclusion.
The sound was coming from inside the station.
It was hard to make out at first, her eardrums rattling from her heartbeat. But after a few seconds of intense focus, Delthea was sure she could hear yelling… followed shortly after by a piercing howling noise. It wasn't a noise a human could make.
A crowd had begun to gather around the epicenter of the sound, where the source of the howling noise was indubitably located. More and more people flocked towards the sound.
Though Delthea, with her limited height, could hardly make out what was going on in the distance, Blue Eyes seemed to have realized something because he was wearing a scowl over his previously gentle face.
"To think that they'd do that HERE of all places" The boy muttered, a tinge of disappointment rising in his voice. He clicked his tongue as his hands tightened around the black sling that rested across his chest. "We're bound for some unruly classmates this year."
"Doing… what?" Delthea asked, worry seeping into her voice. "What are you talking about?"
"Stay here," he commanded, planting his hand on her shoulder. "Things might get dangerous."
Her eyes went wide. "Things might get what?"
But before she got an answer out of him, the boy began wading his way through the sea of people in front of him.
"Hey!" Delthea cried out, calling out to him. "Wait!"
But her words fell on deaf ears. He only continued pushing through the crowd. With every step, Delthea saw less and less of his receding figure. Well, she wasn't going to get any answers just milling about, twiddling her thumbs while something serious was going down in the train station.
She chased after the boy.
The train still hadn't arrived, despite the scheduled time listed on the ticket. Delthea prayed that it would stay that way for the time being.
Following after the boy was a much easier task than she thought. Similar to what Byleth did earlier, the boy cleared his way forward with ease. With that physique of his, anyone foolish enough would be pushed to the side. But it never came to that. In fact, the people here seemed to give the blonde-haired boy a sizable berth as he walked through. They all moved out of his path. The boy was much more ahead than she was but the path the crowd paved gave Delthea ample space to catch up without getting tangled.
Just like how it was in her case, Delthea wondered if Blue Eyes just had a penchant for hunting down trouble and putting a stop to it. Though it would clear up why he was actively chasing trouble, it didn't explain Blue Eyes surly demeanor. This felt different from when he helped her. This felt a bit more personal.
As she got closer, Delthea began to catch wind of the circling whispers around her, left in the boy's wake.
"… no freakin' way…"
"… was that him…?"
"… had to be…"
"… but where is…?"
The whispers partially explained why people moved out of the boy's way and why everything went so quiet when Blue Eyes intervened on her behalf against White Uniform. He seemed to have a reputation. What sort of reputation that was, Delthea couldn't really sus out. She didn't hear enough. A part of her wanted to stick around and breathe in some more of that juicy gossip but she'd end up getting lost in the crowd if she did. She had to stick close.
The boy never realized Delthea was trailing him the whole time. All he cared about was the strange noise they heard earlier and something about "unruly classmates."
Delthea remembered the faint yelling she heard. She couldn't make out the words being thrown around but noticed how the entire station became quiet because of it. To do that, it couldn't have been some petty argument. It seemed way too serious to be brushed off as such.
Why it all mattered to Blue Eyes, she could not guess nor was she all that interested. What she was curious about was the commotion. Her mind swirled with thoughts, trying to guess what the problem could have been. But no matter how hard she thought, each guess was shot down by one singular detail:
The weird howling noise.
No human dispute could ever produce a sound like that, not even lovers' quarrels, as heated as those could get.
Before long, Delthea had caught up to the boy. It was an easy enough task, given he had stopped in his tracks. Pushing past several shoulders one final time, Delthea reached the edge of the crowd, finally arriving at the source of all the commotion.
"Wh-what the hell is this?" she muttered in confusion.
Two students, a well-dressed, long-haired boy and a hooded girl, were standing off. To be accurate, the girl was standing still while the boy paced side to side, like a predator would stare down its prey. In the boy's hands was a curved instrument, a glowing beam of light traveling from one curved end to the other. It looked fierce as much as it was otherworldly. Delthea could hear its growl-like humming from where she stood. The boy had it poised and ready, holding it in front of him, pointed at the hooded girl.
That oversized black hoodie looked familiar…
… Holy sh-. She'd apologize for her profanity later.
"Lysith—What the?! Hey!"
Just as Delthea was about to call out her name, someone pulled her back into the crowd, away from the edge. Their large, cold fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vise, refusing to let go no matter how hard she slapped the hand away. Spinning around, she glared at the person who gave her the rough treatment.
It was Blue Eyes.
"Ow!" She yelped, continually smacking the boy's hand. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"
The boy's eyes widened as his grip immediately loosened. He probably didn't mean to grab as hard as he did. Seizing the moment, Delthea pulled her hand free without any further resistance.
"What happened to that gentlemanly attitude from before?" she grumbled, massaging her sore wrist with her thumb. "Don't tell me you treat all girls like this."
The boy shook his head, "N-no! Of course not—Wait, that's not important! What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, 'what am I doing here?'" she snapped. "You just up and left without explaining anything."
The exasperated boy took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. The air around them was already tense. Delthea's jabs didn't help in the slightest.
If the mood wasn't so serious, she would have found herself amused at his antics, would have found it cute, even. But the new glint in his eyes told her that he wasn't exactly in the mood to fool around.
"You shouldn't interfere," he finally said in a measured and hushed voice. "You're going to get hurt." He put a lot of emphasis on 'hurt'.
"Hurt? What are you talking about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She then nudged towards the scene with her head. "And what exactly is going on?"
The boy sighed, rummaging his hand through his blonde hair. "You're not familiar with Channeler traditions."
Delthea narrowed her eyes. The boy was right. She wasn't familiar. But the tone of his voice rubbed her the wrong way. He probably didn't mean it but it still came off as condescending, driving a wedge between them, reminding her she was an outsider.
However, this wasn't the time to get hung over stuff like that. Swallowing back her sullenness, she nodded.
The boy cupped his chin. "Then let me explain what's about to happen."
Delthea had been through quite a bit in the last several hours of her life, a lot more than what she bargained for when she first embarked on this trip. As such, after witnessing and experiencing so many various things firsthand, she felt like very few things could surprise her at this point.
"It's a Channeler's Duel."
She was wrong.
"A what?"
He didn't look like he was pulling her leg. His eyes, as clear as they were, were dead serious. Unshaking.
"It's a duel between Channelers." He explained, pointing at the two students who stood out amidst the throng of people. The crowd began to step back, giving them ample room, or as much as they could in a place as cramped as this.
She gulped.
"D-duel as in… fighting?"
The boy nodded. "They're usually conducted between Channelers to handle disagreements and slights to their honor. You jumping in would only throw you in the crossfire." He then glared at the two students, narrowing his eyes. "And I feel that this is a bit more personal."
Personal.
Delthea was reminded of how Lysithea glared at her back at the baggage kiosk. What sort of mess did that girl get herself into?
Delthea tugged on the boy's sleeve, getting his attention. "Why though?"
To that, the boy sighed bitterly, a cynical look on his face. "Traditions die hard. Especially Duels… Though they say that fighting is the great equalizer amongst Channelers."
She turned back to the unfolding duel. The long-haired boy was at least a head-and-a-half taller than Lysithea was. On top of that, he had that strange looking thing in his hands, still glowing ominously. Lysithea stared him down with nothing on her but the clothes on her back—including her backpack, can't forget about that.
She shook her head. "Equalizer, my butt." She thumbed towards the ridiculously long-haired boy. "How the hell is any of what I'm seeing fair? He's got a damn' weapon!"
Blue Eyes was unfazed at her outburst.
"And yet the girl does not have a scratch on her."
Delthea turned back. Blonde boy was right. Lysithea may have been shorter, unarmed, and physically unimpressive next to her opponent, but she looked about as clean as a whistle. Not a single splotch of dirt or dust could be seen on that oversized sweater of hers.
She didn't cower away from her opponent either. Instead, she stared him down, unfaltering, and stood her ground. The only thing that moved was the long strands of white hair that peeked out from her hood, swaying from her measured breaths.
"She's… not nervous at all," Delthea pieced together.
"If it really was unfair," the boy continued, observing the scene, "that boy should've already won, no?" He folded his arms. "So why hasn't he?"
Delthea wracked her brains around. None of what she was seeing made any sense. How was the long-haired boy not winning?
"Brute strength and weaponry alone aren't enough to decide the victor in a Duel." The blonde boy explained. "This is a duel among Channelers, after all."
Channelers.
The word reminded Delthea of the fireball she conjured in her hands back home. She remembered vividly how brightly it burned between her fingertips, glowing like a miniature bonfire. The brilliant flames tickled the palm of her hand like mere fireflies. Delthea thought back on how funny it was when Luthier couldn't come near her. Though she couldn't feel it herself, it must have been quite hot.
… Hot….?
It was then that Delthea realized the true and terrifying potential of Channeling.
The comments Hilda and Byleth made about Lysithea's family name came flooding back to her. How gifted and powerful the von Ordelia family and its Channelers were. How Lysithea had placed super highly in some sort of Channeling competition. How utterly calm Lysithea was.
If all that were true, then—
"Looks like this will decide it all," The blonde boy announced, his voice low and serious. His focus has intensified, along with everyone else's in the crowd.
Delthea looked on. Lysithea's leg had shifted, like a martial artist getting into position. Her shoulder turned to face the opponent as she pulled her left hand in towards her.
—then this duel was going to bring down the station on everyone's heads.
Delthea looked towards the glass roof. The sun was awfully brilliant. The roof wouldn't be able to withstand what was about to happen. Looking around, she saw that everyone had their eyes glued to the duel that was about to erupt. None of them seemed concerned that the station was going to collapse on them. No one figured out that one of the duelists happened to be THE Lysithea von Ordelia, and the potential havoc she was about to unleash.
Not even Delthea was sure—she had never seen a duel before!
Delthea reflexively swallowed back her nervousness. It did little to help. She wanted to run away. But she knew that somewhere in this crowd, Byleth and Hilda were there. Balthus too probably, but that guy looked like he could withstand something crazy.
Though she had only known them for a brief while, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving those two to what was about to happen—even if Hilda threw the journal into her lap.
Delthea had to do something. But what? She wasn't going to throw herself into the fray, the blonde boy warned her as much. Besides, she was still pretty green when it came to her Channeling powers. Still, she had to stop this duel while there was still time. While this brief yet fragile standoff was maintained.
"What can I do to stop this?" Delthea whispered to herself, trying to figure something out.
If only there was something that could stop Lysithea in her tracks… she thought.
Something powerful enough that even the second best Channeler would have no choice but to pause.
Did something like that exist? Delthea's powers alone weren't enough. These weak hands held powers but they were undeveloped. All they held now was a journal.
…
A journal she could open at will.
With trembling hands, Delthea unclasped the book's front cover and opened to a random page. It felt so wrong, but what else could she do? Her eyes quickly glossed over the entry she opened to. It was only dated to a few weeks ago. A fresh entry.
Which meant it'd probably sting just as much.
A nervous smile trembled along her face.
Her original mission of returning a lost belonging would have to be postponed.
Because who would've thought that this very journal would be her ticket out of this mess?
END
(A/N): Thanks for reading. I have already started progress on the next chapter and its in some major editing stages. Hopefully it can be here in two weeks.
Anyway, if you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, my PMs are always open (replying back is another animal though).
Please stay safe and healthy everyone.
Have yourselves a damn good one.
